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literaryavenger · 4 months

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Captain America: The Winter Soldier - 3

Summary: You find out the truth about Fury and, after he brings you up to speed, you make plans to take down Hydra for good.

Pairing: platonic!Steve Rogers x F!Reader, platonic!Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader, platonic!Sam Wilson x F!Reader, platonic!Nick Fury x F!Reader, platonic!Maria Hill x F!Reader

Warnings: Language. Pierce being a dick. Mentions of death. Mentions of fighting and fire arms. The Winter Soldier, he's a warning. My poor attempts at being funny. Idk, everything else in the movie?

Word Count: 3.8K

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The ride is quiet until Steve, who was shocked into silence until this moment, says “It was him.”

You look at him on your right but his gaze is to the floor. “He looked right at me like he didn’t even know me.”

“How's that even possible?” Sam says from in front of Steve. “It was, like, seventy years ago.”

“Zola.” Steve answers without skipping a beat. “Bucky's whole unit was captured in '43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and…” he trails off, looking up at Sam.

“None of that's your fault, Steve.” Natasha says and you turn your attention on her.

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.” You're too busy looking at Natasha’s palling face to be sad for Steve.

“We need to get a doctor here.” You say, your eyes landing on the blood on her shoulder, which apparently Sam noticed too.

“We don't put pressure on that wound,” he says, turning to the agent next to him “she's gonna bleed out here in the truck.”

The guard pulls out an electric rod and looks like he's gonna use it on Sam but, suddenly, he pokes the other guard with it.

You're all so fucking confused until the guard takes out his helmet to reveal a groaning Maria Hill.

“That thing was squeezing my brain.” she looks at all of you while you let out a breath of relief, but she lands on Sam and then looks back at Steve, pointing at him. “Who’s this guy?”

“Long story” you say and, when she narrows her eyes at you, you roll your own. “I’m handcuffed too, I’m obviously on your side.” you say while raising your cuffed hands and raising an eyebrow.

She softens but relented only after receiving a nod from Steve, confirming what you're saying.

She helps you escape and soon you're entering a seemingly abandoned facility, Natasha leaning on you for balance.

A man you recognize as one of the doctors that were operating on Fury runs towards you and you frown.

What the hell’s going on?

“GSW. She’s lost at least a pint.” Hill says to the doctor.

“Maybe two.” Sam adds.

“Let me take her.” the doctor says, but Maria stops him.

“She’ll want to see him first.” she says while she leads the way, the doctor helping you carry Natasha.

Hill takes you to a room where you’re all shocked to find Fury lying in a bed, alive.

“About damn time.” he says and you almost cry after hearing his voice.

You all sit down and, as the doctor starts to work on Natasha’s wound next to you, you all listen intently as Fury explains what’s going on.

“Lacerated spinal column,” he ends by listing his injuries “cracked sternum, shattered collarbone, perforated liver, one hell of a headache.”

“Don't forget your collapsed lung.” the doctor says from Nat’s other side.

“Oh, let's not forget that.” Fury says sarcastically “Otherwise, I'm good.”

“They cut you open,” Natasha says, you knew she took it hard after all. “your heart stopped.”

“Tetrodotoxin B.” He says like it was obvious. “Slows the pulse to one beat a minute. Banner developed it for stress. Didn't work so great for him, but we found a use for it.”

“Why all the secrecy?” Steve voices what you're all thinking.

“Yeah.” you add, obviously hurt. “Why not just tell us?”

“Any attempt on the director's life had to look successful.” Hill answers for him.

“Can't kill you if you're already dead.” Fury seems amused with himself, then gets more serious. “Besides, I wasn't sure who to trust.”

You try not to take that too personally and, glancing at Natasha, you can tell when she meets your eyes that she's trying to do the same.

Fury gives you guys some time to process everything before you move to a room with a table to start strategizing on how to move forward.

“This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize.” Fury says while looking at a picture of a young Pierce. “He said, Peace wasn't an achievement, it was a responsibility. See, it's stuff like this that gives me trust issues.” He finishes looking at you guys.

“We have to stop the launch.” Natasha says, ignoring Fury’s last remark.

“I don't think the Council's accepting my calls anymore.” He says while opening a case containing three chips.

“What's that?” you and Sam ask at the same time, glancing at each other.

“Once the Helicarriers reach three thousand feet,” Hill says, turning her computer around and showing you “they'll triangulate with Insight satellites becoming fully weaponized.”

“We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own.” Fury cuts in.

“One or two won't cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational” she hesitates for a moment “a whole lot of people are gonna die.”

“We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is HYDRA. We need to get past them, insert the server blades, and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left-” Fury gets cut off by Steve.

“We're not salvaging anything.” he says sharply. “We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick. We're taking down SHIELD.”

“SHIELD had nothing to do with it.” Fury says defensively.

“You gave me this mission, this is how it ends.” Steve has his Captain voice on and you know there's no room for discussion. “SHIELD's been compromised, you said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.”

“Why do you think we're meeting in this cave? I noticed.” Nobody else says anything, just watching back and forth from Fury to Steve.

“And how many paid the price before you did?”

“Look, I didn't know about Barnes.” Fury says after a moment.

“Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that, too?” He's almost glaring now. “SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes.”

“He's right.” Hill simply says, nodding.

Fury looks at Natasha, but she simply stares back and he knows he’s not gonna have any help from her, so he turns to you.

“You’re okay with this, Agent?” he asks you and you don’t even have to think twice about it.

“We took an oath to protect people, Fury.” you tell him, holding his gaze. “If taking down Shield does that, and I believe it does, I’m game.” you shrug.

He then turns to the last person in the room.

“Don't look at me.” Sam says, also shrugging. “I do what he does, just slower.”

You grin at him while Fury scoffs a little.

“Well,” He starts, sitting back and sighting, looking at all of you before staring back at Steve. “It looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain.”

After you make our plan, Steve goes outside for some air. You and Sam watch him leave, then look at each other, a silent question hanging between you two.

“You go.” you tell him and he nods before following after the supersoldier.

When you turn around you’re met with Fury and Hill’s curious looks and Natasha’s smirking face.

“What?” you say annoyed, crossing your arms defensively in front of you.

“You and Wilson, huh.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Romanoff.” you tell her as you sit back down. “He’s a nice person, you know as well as I do how rare it is to find that in our line of work.” your gaze shifts to the table but you can still feel their gazes on you.

“You couldn’t have known, YN.” Fury says, seemingly reading your mind. Your eyes snap up to his, he's never called you by your first name.

“I should’ve, Nick.” you exchange the favor. “All the closed meetings, all the shady attitudes… I should’ve seen it. I’m trained to see it.” you're frustrated with yourself, with all the adrenaline out of your body now you’re left only with guilt.

Surely if you’d have seen it sooner you could’ve done something. Maybe the outcome would’ve been different.

“They tricked all of us.” Nat says, glancing at Fury and resting her hand on your shoulder.

“You’re a good agent,” Hill interjects, “don’t doubt yourself because of those traitors.”

“You’re right.” You nodded after a moment, putting your hand on top of Nat’s on your shoulder and looking back at Fury. “You’re all right.”

As you finish the details of the plan, only one thing is missing.

“How do we get the Director there?” Hill asks after Sam joins you, informing you that Steve went looking for a uniform, whatever that means, and would meet you there.

“Uh, I have an idea.” you says, leaning back in your chair and smirking.

They all suit up and leave after making sure your comms work.

“Be careful.” you hug Natasha before they leave “All of you.” you add looking over her shoulder at Hill that nods and Sam that grins and then winks at you.

You go back to the room where Fury is and he asks, “So where’s our ride?”

“On its way.” you simply say, checking your phone.

You can hear the others through the comms as they meet up with Steve, his own voice coming to your ear as he puts his own earpiece in.

“Where’s Y/N?” he questions the team.

“Awe, you miss me already, Cap?” you say and can hear the other’s laughter.

“You wish.” you can practically hear his eyes rolling.

“I do wish.” you answer, laughing. “I’m with Fury, don’t worry we’ll be there in time.”

You’re both suited up too when you hear loud noises coming from outside, Fury gives you a confused look but you just smile and wiggle your eyebrows playfully as you lead the way to the roof.

A helicopter lands and the pilot gets out and makes his way towards you, shaking your hand before heading downstairs where a car is waiting for him. You make your way to the pilot’s seat and Fury takes the co-pilot’s seat.

“Where did you even get this?” He questions you after putting on the headphones while you start the helicopter, ready for take off.

“You’re not the only one with connections, Director.” you answer, glancing at him with a smile and can hear him laugh next to you.

The whole time you can hear the team’s conversation, everything’s going according to plan thankfully, and nobody’s gotten hurt yet.

Just as you hear Natasha say “don’t worry, company’s coming” to who you assume is Pierce you land the helicopter on the landing pad.

You and Fury make your way inside and Pierce is nothing short of surprised at seeing Fury alive, much to your delight.

“Did you get my flowers?” he says sarcastically and, when Fury only glares at him, he turns his attention to you. “Agent.”

“Asshole.” you greet him with a smile.

“I'm glad you're here, Nick.” he turns his attention back to him.

“Really? Cause I thought you had me killed.”

“You know how the game works.” Pierce says, as calm as a sociopath.

“So why make me head of SHIELD?” Fury has to know.

“Cause you were the best and the most ruthless person I ever met.”

“I did what I did to protect people.”

“Our enemies are your enemies, Nick. Disorder, war. It's just a matter of time before a dirty bomb goes off in Moscow, or an EMP fries Chicago. Diplomacy? Holding action, a band-aid. And you know where I learned that?” He doesn’t give him time to answer, clearly enjoying his evil mastermind speech. “Bogota. You didn't ask, you just did what had to be done. I can bring order to the lives of seven billion people by sacrificing twenty million. It's the next step, Nick, if you have the courage to take it.”

“No,” Fury says, taking Pierce to the retinal scanner, guns on him from both Nat and you “I have the courage not to.”

“Retinal scanner active.” the computer says.

“You don't think we wiped your clearance from the system?” Pierce says smugly.

“I know you erased my password, probably deleted my retinal scan, but if you want to stay ahead of me, Mr. Secretary,” he takes off his eyepatch to reveal his scarred eye and you grimace. “you need to keep both eyes open.”

They both look into the retinal scanner, with Fury using his injured eye.

“Alpha Level confirmed.” The computer says “Encryption code accepted. Safeguards removed.”

You can hear Steve and Sam talking in your ear as you hold Pierce at gunpoint while Nat finishes uploading the files online.

Sam saying to Steve that he’s heavier than he looks makes you smile, Steve answering “I had a big breakfast” makes you almost snort because Sam made him that breakfast, but you stay professional.

You hear Sam apologizing to Steve after being grounded, his suit broken, and then Maria telling Sam that Rumow’s heading your way. Sam says he’s on it and then you hear Steve trying to plead with Bucky before he starts fighting him.

“Done.” Natasha finally says “And it's trending.”

Just then Pierce sets off the pins he gave the council members, causing it to burn a hole into them. You, Natasha and Fury point your guns at Pierce but he turns to Natasha.

“Unless you want a two inch hole in your sternum, I'd put that gun down.” Natasha doesn't back down though “That was armed the moment you pinned it on.”

You all reluctantly lower your weapons.

You can hear Sam saying “Man, shut the hell up” and frown, then you hear him fighting probably with Rumlow and you sincerely hope Sam lands some good punches.

“Lieutenant, how much longer?” Pierce asks into his radio.

“Sixty-five seconds to satellite link. Targeting grid engaged. Lowering weapons array now.” you hear the response.

You hear Hill counting down too. “Thirty seconds, Cap!”

you can hear Steve get out a strangled “Stand by.”

You hear him struggle, then he says “Charlie-” but gets interrupted by a gunshot and you hold your breath, already imagining the worst and barely hearing Pierce talking into his radio.

Just as they’re about to give the order to fire you hear Steve again saying “Charlie locked.” and you feel like all three of you let out a breath of relief at the same time. Although your relief is short lived as you hear Steve telling Maria to fire.

You all look outside as the Helicarriers start going down.

“What a waste.” Pierce says, disgusted at the sight in front of him.

“Are you still on the fence about Rogers' chances?” Nat says as smugly as she can with an active weapon pinned to her chest, but Pierce is having none of it.

“Time to go, Councilwoman.” he grabs her arm “This way, come on. You're gonna fly me out of here.”

“You know, there was a time I would have taken a bullet for you.” Fury tells him as they start to leave.

“You already did.” Pierce glances back at him “You will again when it's useful.” before he can even finish the sentence Natasha activates a small disc that emits an electric shock through her whole body and disables the pin, giving you a chance to kick the phone out of Pierce’s hand while it reboots.

Fury takes this time to pick up a gun and shoots twice at Pierce, then walks over to you as you kneel next to Natasha who’s unconscious on the floor.

“Romanoff!” he says “Natasha!”

“Tasha, come on!” you say desperately.

She slowly opens her eyes. “Ow.” she lets out, before looking up at you two. “Those really do sting.”

You let out a breathless laugh and help her up, glancing back at Pierce dying behind you, a quiet ‘Hail HYDRA’ coming out of his mouth.

You help Natasha into the helicopter, before taking the pilot’s seat again, Fury next to you.

“Please, tell me you got that chopper in the air!” you hear Sam say.

“Sam, where are you?” Natasha asks him as you try to look around for him.

“41st floor, north-west corner!” he sounds like he’s out of breath.

“We're on it, stay where you are.” You say, making your way to him.

“Not an option!” You can hear him pant like he’s running and as you look up you see him jumping out a window, so you tilt the helicopter just enough to allow him to slide in through the door sideways, and then you straighten just as fast, getting out of there just in time as the whole building comes down.

“41st floor! 41st!” Sam yells once he’s caught his breath.

“It's not like they put the floor numbers on the outside of the building!” You yell back at him while glancing behind you as he glares at you.

“Hill, where's Steve?” Natasha says in the comms “You got a location on Rogers?”

You fly around the wreckage, all of you trying to locate Steve although it feels almost impossible with all the damage left by the Helicarriers.

How can you find him? How could he even be alive after not only that fall, but all of the pieces still falling from the sky? He could’ve been knocked out, he could be at the bottom of the Pontomac, slowly drowning-

“There!” Sam interrupts your pessimistic thoughts as he yells and points at a figure along the shore of the river. “That’s him!”

You land as close as him as you can, running out with Sam beside you, Nat and Fury a little behind. As you get close you see that it is indeed Steve, kudos to Sam for his falcon eyes.

The more you get close the more you worry, he looks bloody and beaten. When you’re finally kneeling next to him, you’re praying that he’s alive.

Sam’s hand flies to his neck and you can tell he lets out a relieved sigh, before turning to you. “He’s got a pulse.” he says and you mirror his action.

You pick him up together and take him to the helicopter, placing him inside while Nat takes the pilot’s seat this time and goes straight to the hospital.

With Steve being in the hospital and Fury being technically dead, the joy of being summoned at a committee hearing falls on you and Natasha. After being sworn in, the Committee General asks the first question.

“Why haven't we yet heard from Captain Rogers?” You and Natasha look at each other and she answers.

“We don't know what there is left for him to say. I think the wreck in the middle of the Potomac made his point fairly eloquently.”

“Well, he could explain how this country's expected to maintain its national security now that he, and you, have laid waste to our intelligence apparatus.”

“HYDRA was selling you lies, not intelligence.” you interject.

“Many of which you both seem to have had a personal hand in telling.” you hate to admit it but he’s got you there.

“Agents, you should know that there are some on this committee who feel, given your service record, both for this country” Scudder then looks directly at Nat “and against it, that you belong in a penitentiary, not mouthing off on Capitol Hill.” he says and it takes everything in you not to snap at him as you clench your jaw.

Natasha can see it in your face as you look at each other, so she goes ahead and talks first.

“You're not gonna put me in a prison.” her eyes are still on you “You're not gonna put any of us in a prison. You know why?” You know she's asking you to finish her sentence.

“Do enlighten us.”

“Because you need us.” you say without missing a beat, looking away from Natasha and directly into the man’s eyes. “Yes, the world is a vulnerable place, and yes, we help make it that way. But we're also the ones best qualified to defend it.”

“So if you want to arrest us, arrest us.” Nat says after a pause.

“You'll know where to find us.” you finish.

You both get up and walk out, exchanging a small smile that's quickly hidden for the benefit of the cameras.

A few hours later you and Natasha get to the cemetery just as Fury’s walking away, smirking at each other when you catch the end of his sentence.

“You should be honored, gentlemen.” you say as you get closer.

“That's about as close as he gets to saying thank you.” Natasha finishes for you.

“Not going with him?” Steve asks you as he meets you halfway.

“No.” you both say at the same time.

“Not staying here?” only Natasha answers this time.

“Nah. I blew all my covers,” she glances at you “I gotta go figure out a new one.”

“That might take a while.” he points out.

“I'm counting on it.” She smiles. “That thing you asked for, I called in a few favors from Kiev.” She hands Steve a file. “Will you do me a favor? Call that nurse.”

“She's not a nurse.”

“And you're not a SHIELD agent.” you say and he smiles.

“What was her name again?” he asks.

“Sharon.” Natasha says and you add. “She's nice.”

Natasha kisses Steve on the cheek, hugs you and when she turns to walk away, he looks at you.

“Your face looks better.” you notice. “Well, as good as it can look, considering...” you trail off vaguely motioning to his face with a fake disgusted look and he laughs.

“Yeah, the serum can only do so much.” you laugh too, but then you hear Natasha and you both turn to her.

“Be careful, Steve.” she tells to him “You might not want to pull on that thread.”

And with that, she’s gone.

“You’re not going with Nat?” he asks you as you turn back to him.

“I figured you might need a hand.” you nod to the file in his hand and Steve opens it as Sam walks up to you guys while you steal a glance yourself at the photo of Sergeant Barnes in it.

“You're going after him.” Sam says and it's not a question, it's a statement.

“You don't have to come with me.” He says, his eyes on the file.

“I know.” Sam says, after a moment of silence you finally look away from the photo of 40s Bucky and you see both men looking at you expectantly.

“Chasing a 96 year old brainwashed assassin?” you says, a smile starting to grow on your face “Sounds fun.” you state and Steve nods.

“Really?” Sam deadpans. “What are your weekends like, YLN?”

You only smirk at him in response, then you both turn your attention back to Steve, his eyes back on the file.

“So,” Sam says, “when do we start?”

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bestworstcase · 2 days

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ALSO. IRRELEVANT SIDEBAR. i seem to be the only person in the fandom who a) took it as a given that ‘the girl who fell through the world’ was at least a century old and thus predated the great war by at least two or three decades, and b) didn’t think the author’s identity being unknown was odd enough to require an explanation.

and i’m wondering now if the xkcd average familiarity curse Got Me bfgrbxcjk

alice’s adventures in wonderland! that book is One Hundred Fifty-Eight Years Old. it was published in november 1865. through the looking glass was published six years later in december 1871. CAN YOU NAME THE AUTHOR?

if you answered “lewis carroll,” bzzt! incorrect!

(well, correct in that the books were indeed written under that pseudonym BUT I MEAN HIS REAL NAME.)

alice’s adventures in wonderland is a hundred and fifty-eight years old. it has never been out of print. it’s been translated into a hundred seventy-four languages and it’s one of the best known works of nineteenth century english literature in the world. it’s been adapted many, many times for stage and radio and film and video games. “retelling the true story of alice in wonderland” is like an entire niche fantasy YA subgenre; i could name seven different examples off the top of my head. it’s as close to UBIQUITOUS as it’s possible for a story to be in a world with seven billion people living in it.

and… in a world where the non-pseudonymous identity of the author is thoroughly documented and easily accessible via the internet, the average person who Fondly Remembers watching the disney animated film or having the book read to them as a kid doesn’t know that ‘lewis carroll’ was a pen name.

his real name was charles dodgson.

and the reason the average person doesn’t know that isn’t any kind of individual failing or whatever, it’s just that the book was published almost a hundred and sixty years ago under a pen name. the pen name is what’s on the cover. most people don’t go Looking for biographical information about the authors of books their parents read to them as kids unless they have a particular reason to be interested. such as high octane nerdery.

(i own the 150th anniversary edition of the annotated alice and have read it cover to cover multiple times. and i’ll do it again. i am an Owns Books About The Math In Wonderland kind of nerdy about alice.)

—the point. being. the real world has a lot of things going for it in terms of historical preservation that remnant does not, chiefly the absence of a Fuck Ton of monsters trying to eat everybody all the time and making international travel and communication horrifyingly dangerous on a good day. the CCTS has only existed for a few decades; before that, sharing information between kingdoms was matter of “send an armed convoy and hope they don’t get killed and eaten by The Horrors en route.”

so the scholars of remnant are at, to put it mildly, a serious disadvantage in terms of information being retained over time.

anyway. ‘the girl who fell through the world’ is established very clearly to be remnant’s equivalent of our alice’s adventures in wonderland, in that it is a quite old children’s story that became MASSIVELY POPULAR worldwide, to the point that nearly everyone alive has at least some familiarity with the plot, many remember it as a cherished childhood bedtime story, and the more bookish characters can quote favorite passages from memory.

which is to say, it isn’t just The Story is an allusion to the wonderland story. the book’s ubiquity is also modeled after alice’s ubiquity, and the lack of popular knowledge about the author’s real identity likewise takes its cue from the fact that in real life most people Don’t Know who charles dodgson is.

so!!!

it’s not at all unreasonable to think that ‘the girl who fell through the world’ is probably meant to be about as old as alice’s adventures in wonderland—about a hundred fifty years, which would mean lewis published it around sixty years before the great war even started. (he also presumably didn’t publish it as a child; if he was about the age dodgson was when alice went to print, this would have been around twenty years after the fact.)

and it’s also not unreasonable to think that lewis, like charles dodgson, published his book under a pseudonym. or anonymously, but given how certain jaune is that alyx wrote the book, even though it was lewis taking notes and lewis saying he would write the story for jaune to find his way home…

i’d put my bet on lewis having written his book as “A.L. [Surname].” A for alyx, L for lewis, a symbolic way for her to come home with him. but the girls upon discovering the ever after is real and alyx was real would of course think “oh, ‘AL’ as in short for alyx” and the use of initials is also ambiguous enough for jaune to worry his way to the conclusion that he did, after alyx poisoned him.

fast forward a century and a half or so in a setting with no internet for most of that and hordes of man-eating Nightmare Beasts inhibiting international communication and… yeah of course the Real Name of beloved children’s classic author A.L. Whoever isn’t common knowledge outside of academic and hobbyist carrollian-equivalent circles.

#this post brought to you by me having the thought #‘but why are we surprised the book is way older than the great war. it’s aaiw.’#followed by ‘………your experiences are not universal’-ing myself GRBFJSJK #anyway. if they’re going where i think they might be going with lewis #he’s theodore’s great-grandfather #and his children were of the generation that fought in the great war #<- HIGHLY speculative but trust me it tracks.

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that1nkyone · 1 year

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Hang on, I gotta talk about the Platypus for a sec

So it's a pretty well-known fact that once colonialists started invading Australia in the 1700s, they came across a lot of fauna that made them go "what the fuck is this." A lot of the default reaction for England back then was 'shoot it and take it back home,' or 'put aboard a ship and hope it's alive when we get there.'

But I wanna talk a little about the details of that, and how I'm a little cheesed off with the Naturalists of Old when they first saw a platypus.

For one, it was dead. And dismissed because there's no way that beak was real. Those cheeky colonists were definitely playing a prank and wasting their time.

And then a few more come in, this time preserved as well as they can be in spirits. And people start saying "okay, well... what is it? Is it a bird? The bill makes me think it's a bird." "These aren't feathers." "It swims? It's an amphibian, which is a Reptile, as we all know (they didn't think these guys Seperate until quite a bit later)." "This thing is also clearly amongst the Lower Beings of God's Creations (Creationism was still a big thing in scientific circles)."

Paper upon paper was written about this new creature, and suddenly nobody could agree on what to classify it as. Their ideas of the natural order started suddenly collapsing and being thrown into disarray.

Because of this little guy.

The Naturalist Science scene was going berserk halfway across the world because their fundamental understanding of nature was being turned on its head by this tiny mammal - who they were still trying to decide whether it was a mammal.

The English were having arguments with the French, but some were collaborating ideas based on what data they'd gained (some French and English naturalists met up in Australia during the war to share a drink and talk about Platypuses). Because this strange duck-billed creature surely had no place in the Chain of Being, their point of classification for species that they'd used for the past hundreds of years. And if it did, where the heck did it belong?

Did it lay eggs? How did it swim? What was the bill for? They didn't know the answer to any of these questions because all the specimens they got from Australia were Very Deceased, either being shot and put in spirits, or dried out. The poor platypus was being done in a lot for the sake of research.

And look, I know methods were Different back then, and it wasn't easy to transport live specimens or have the technology to preserve specimens over half the planet. With that said, I do want to point something out:

While this huge crisis is happening, in January 1812, a man named Patrick Hill gets the bright idea to like... ask the elder of the local Indigenous tribe about them (my source records him as Cookoogong, but not all sources about First Nations from early colonial texts are accurate.)

And Cookoogong's like "Oh, these guys? Yeah, so, they do lay eggs. They have long, deep burrows. We know how to get to them. There's a spur at the back of their feet. We don't really eat them for food. We call it the mullingong.*"(also malangong, depending on what tribe/dialect) Cool. Mystery solved.

Except:

It took over seventy years for this information to become accepted as scientific fact.

Not just because of the inherent biases of the Colonials being backwater people and prisoners in a funny little land far away, not just out of a need to get more data before confirmation, but because almost nobody in Europe took the word of the native population in Australia.

And in between that 72 year gap between 1812 and 1884, there were so many instances of the First Nations people giving vital and essential pieces of information on correctly identifying the features and habits of this land mammal as European Scientists had a massive meltdown and argument over whether an animal they'd Never Seen Alive gave milk or not.

Hell, Charles Darwin made the trip to Australia, and was inspired by animals like the Platypus to start questioning whether all life was truly static and didn't transition or adapt to changing circumstances.

The platypus made Charles Darwin start questioning his beliefs in Creationism, and going on to begin his steps towards the theory of evolution.

And then there's Harry Burrell, who had the bright idea of like, not killing specimens every time someone wanted to see it up close. He was one of the first recorded people to try and keep platypuses in captivity, and thoroughly learn their preferred lifestyle, diet and breeding habits from careful observation. He would learn how to make platypuses Comfortable, and how to transport them safely.

His protege, David Fleay (pictured below), would go on to ensure the first successfully bred platypus in captivity - 'Corrie' (born to parents Jack and Jill).

what I'm saying is, the story of trying to Classify the Platypus ends in "Nature is just fucking weird, we're going to try understanding it as best we can, and maybe we should ask and respect the opinions of the people who have lived alongside something we don't understand for thousands of years."

The platypus is literally referred to by Mervyn Griffiths, an authority on monotremes, "The animal of all time."

Anyway, in summary: - Colonialism fucking sucks and Sovereignty was never ceded.

- The Platypus is an Amazing Creature and sorta Toppled Creationism in the scientific community??

#th1nks #First Nations #Platypus #if anyone wants to fact check any of this please do because I wanna know more

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royallyprincesslilly · 2 years

Text

Title: All Grown Up Now {One Shot} ***

Older Brother’s BFF & Old Frat Brother Chris Evans x Reader AU

Warning: 18 + Content, Lots of Cursing, NSFW, PLENTY PLENTY OF WORDS, SMUTTT, Slow Burn

Words: 14.3K

Summary: Nope!

Note: Y’all know what pic this was inspired by. The girlies who get it, get it. Shout out to @caramara3 for shamelessly egging me on with this. XOXOX. Worked out well to be a b-day fic. Happy 41st to our collective man! LOL

Thank you all for reading. I appreciate you!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Friday-

“What do you mean you have plans?”

You sat in your brother’s living room scrolling through Netflix on his seventy-inch TV. A TV that you’d given so much flack over him getting but it was now one of the best things in this apartment. You scrolled through your list selections under your very own profile under his account. It didn’t matter if you had your own account in your own apartment that was one floor up on the opposite side of the building. You passed some C-list action movie then a made for tv movie you’d saved months ago waiting for the perfect time to watch it.

“It means what it sounds like. I—have—plans,” your bother enunciated as he passed behind you crossing to the other side of his apartment from where his office was to where his bedroom was.

“What sort of plans? You didn’t even invite me.”

You purposely added a little more whine to your voice. You wanted to lay it on thick.

“Not tonight, Binky.”

You kissed your teeth at the annoying nickname, your mind immediately running to the one who’d first given you the moniker. Heat spread across your chest then traveled down your sternum to your belly. It made you wiggle in your spot on the couch. You’d always hated the name. It wasn’t a name given out of affection; it was one given to tease. When you’d been given the name now maybe ten years ago you were just in your twenties and hadn’t grown into the adult you were today.

Cringing at the memory of yourself from twenty you closed your eyes and huffed out a breath.

“That fucking name,” you whispered.

“What, still haven’t gotten over the name?”

Your brother’s voice came from right beside your head, making you jump. You glared at him, grabbed a pillow, and swung. He ducked, dodging that and the second and third swing.

“So much anger,” he teased.

“I don’t think it’s fair for you to drop me for some last-minute plans.”

He snorted, “They’re not last minute. I told you last week that this weekend was not going to be a hang out weekend. I told you it was my monthly guy's weekend.”

You vaguely remembered this conversation, but you weren’t going to tell him that. Again, you kissed your teeth.

“Should you be having a guy’s weekend with a whole girlfriend? Yvette is cool with this?”

“Oh please, V don’t own me. I’m my own man. I can do what I please, go when I want, see who I want. I wear the pants.”

As he continued, the true wearer of the pants waltzed inside the apartment using her spare key and quietly closed the door leaning on it to allow his rant to continue. Smiling, you hopped onto your knees in the couch wanting a good view of what came next.

“Ah, so ah you run tings, tings nuh run you,” you egged on.

“Damn right! Mi a bad man!”

He gave his best Shottas voice, and it took every single ounce of control to not bust out laughing.

“V know what it is.”

Your brother walked out of his bedroom and the scent of bergamot, musk and patchouli spilled out into the wide open common area.

“What was that?”

Your brother jumped back lifting his hands in a defensive stance, “Baby!”

Yvette crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side waiting for him to answer.

“Me? I wasn’t saying nothing.”

Unable to hold it in any longer, you busted out laughing.

“Speak your heart, don’t bite your tongue.”

He narrowed his eyes at you then shook his head. “You couldn’ta told me she was here? You know I’m your bother right. blood, me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Remember that when you wanna throw slurs around,” you said rolling your eyes in exaggerated fashion and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“You mad petty. Just cause I called you binky?”

He approached Yvette and you watched them embrace then kiss. They’ve been together for six years now and they still didn’t live together but it didn’t seem to matter because they looked more in love today than they’d ever been.

“Why you gotta tease her with that damn name? You know she hates it.”

He chuckled, “It’s just a name. It means nothing.”

You didn’t believe that one bit. The person who’d given it to you could have been labeled as your nemesis. It wasn’t anything hostile—or too hostile. He just annoyed you at every single opportunity. Either it was a snide remark here or a sly comment there and they all were about your age, your height, the aura you gave off or the fact that you were the youngest. It was annoying. Then when you made jokes about how old he was, he went harder with the teasing until you were roasting each other then you were pouting and glaring at him. it always happened that way.

“You know he gave her that nickname to tease her about acting, looking and being a baby,” Yvette stated, addressing the elephant in the room.

“I mean, she is the baby. Out of all of us she is the last born and not to mention dead last. Ion’t know why mama and daddy thought it was a good idea to have another kid twelve years after me. Twelve years.”

You rolled your eyes then took up a pillow and lunged it at his head. When it made contact he snapped his head back to mimic whiplash.

“That was cold. I coulda pulled a muscle. So violent. Baby my neck hurt now.”

You watched Yvette baby him. They were adorable but damn was it annoying sometimes.

“Anyway, I’m dropping this off since I won’t see you till next weekend. Remember you not some fresh and green single man. Don’t act up!”

Your brother lifted his hands in surrender.

“I never act up. I’ll be on my best worst behavior.”

You snorted and Yvette slapped the back of his head playfully.

“When are you meeting up with the rest of them?”

He looked at his watch, “C should be here any minute.”

Your spine instantly straightened.

“Wait what. Here?”

“Yeah. He’s staying for the weekend.”

Your eyes widened. He’d conveniently left that piece of information out. You began moving getting ready to get your ass outta there. You didn’t want to run into him. You were not in the mood to go four rounds.

“Running away huh. He said you’d run.”

You paused then glared at your brother who didn’t look stressed, in fact, he looked entertained. “You’d think he’s your brother with this sibling rivalry you got goin on.”

“Blasphemy!”

“Why do you hate him so much?”

It’s not that you hated him. You hated his type. The type that came off cocky and charismatic with just a few words and the stance of their legs. The type that knew they weren’t hideous and knew they could talk anything with ears and a basic understanding of the English language into bed, the type who seemed to captivate everyone around them with nothing more than a smile. You’d seen his type everywhere; you knew them well and you weren’t impressed.

It didn’t have anything to do with his mesmerizing eyes that were deeper than twenty thousand leagues under the sea, or that he was so tall that he easily towered over you making you feel smaller than you were, or that well past thirty his body was anything but a dad bod, or that his smile could melt all the ice in the artic significantly speeding up global warming. Hell it didn’t even matter that on several occasions through the years you’d gotten examples of not only his strength, but his charm, and seen glimpses of that non-dad bod that made your mouth dryer than Egypt. None of that contributed to the reasons why he annoyed you. Right?

“He’s annoying,” you simply stated shrugging your shoulders.

Your bother and Yvette looked at each other with quizzical looks. Clearly they didn’t know what you meant. Your brother shrugged making a move to walk away but Yvette’s eyes lingered on you like she knew something you oblivious brother didn’t that only women would know. she didn’t say anything though.

Suddenly the bell rang, and you froze in spot.

“That’s him now,” your bother informed. Yvette was the one to open the door and in walked all six feet of him.

“Bro!”

Your bother echoed him and the two approached one another getting into their frat secret handshake which was a whole-body mini dance sequence full of moves that looked like they belonged in a Morehouse step group. You knew your brother had moves but seeing him do the moves and pulling them off made your belly flutter. The fuck, you thought. When the two men hit the woah you actually had to sit down. the fuck, you thought again.

“Yvette, how are you?”

He hugged her keeping the smile on his face.

“How are you Chris?”

“Good, good. You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Back off C, we may share most things but we ain’t sharing my woman,” your brother spoke up. Chris snorted.

“Don’t worry. Caring is sharing but I don’t want you to share her, you two belong together. Now other things--,” he trailed off making your bother chuckle.

His eyes landed on you and his half smirk and smile fell. You watched as his eyes looked you up and down once, then twice. Before those cornflower steel-tinged eyes made a third trip he shook his head slightly then glanced at your brother.

“Is this--.”

Your brother nodded. You straightened your back feeling the scrutiny of his eyes. They felt like weights. It felt like he was inspecting you, measuring you up to the last version of you he saw which was over four years ago.

“Nah, you’re fuckin’ with me.”

“Nope.”

“This is b—binky?”

You rolled your eyed hard then sighed. Here we go, you thought.

“No way. Wow.”

He took two steps closer, but you didn’t budge from your seat though some part of you wanted to stand tall knowing your heels would afford you plenty of height on him. Bolting upright your stomach sank. While you were taller, you still didn’t reach his head. which meant he still towered over you. Asshole, you thought.

“Wow, binky. I’m—wow.”

“I have a name and Binky isn’t it.”

Chris smirked then smiled that winning smile of his. You wanted to snort.

“I know your name; it’s just Binky has always suited you better.”

You planted your hand on your hip sticking it out knowing your stance accentuated your curves.

“Even now?”

Chris smirked and he looked like he wanted to scan you over again, but he didn’t. Instead he backed off.

“It’s good to see you Binky. Four years is a long time.”

You ignored the way your stomach flipped from the deepness of his voice or how you wanted to suck your bottom lip from the intense smells coming off of him. You even ignored the way his oddly patterned tan, black, cream and orange shirt hugged his massively toned biceps or the trimness of his waist and desperately ignored the way his black slacks fit him. Damn, the man always knew how to fill out an outfit.

“Not long enough,” you muttered.

The smirk on Chris’ face said he’d heard you loud and clear.

“Or too long. Miss four years miss a lot,” Chris said from his new spot next to your brother, arms crossed over his chest with on hand up, rubbing just underneath his bottom lip and his eyes flicking up and down your frame.

It was then you noticed the slight bit of grey in his beard. An evil smirk spread across your lips.

“Four years was enough time for you to grey I see old man.”

Chris smirked as your bother laughed loudly.

“Alas, not everyone can be blessed with young blood with not one grey hair on any part of their body.”

You shifted to your other leg resting your hand on the other hip. Feeling the win for this round, you smirked but caught his eyes once again skimming you, slower this time.

“You know what they say, with age comes knowledge and with youth—inexperience. Is that how it goes Binky? The corner still your favorite place to be?”

You scowled and glared at him.

“At least I’m not desperately hanging on to my frat days,” you muttered sitting back down with your back to him.

Again the win felt like yours. Then you felt the heat beside your head.

“No need to, I’m at my prime and the best shape of my life---I could teach frat boy me some things.”

He said it just below a whisper, but his voice held plenty of taunt in it, plenty of—something else. Glancing to the side at him your eyes met bit neither of you spoke again.

“All right, everyone to their corners,” your brother said pulling Chris back.

You stood and tried to shake off his words, and the way his eyes pierced into yours.

“Well I’m going home. Enjoy your boy’s weekend,” you said walking to the door.

Yvette kissed your bother once more and followed you.

“I’m sure I’ll see you again before the weekend is up binky. I’ll be here for four long days.”

You slammed the door behind you and clenched your jaw.

“It should be a crime for him to still have his good looks,” Yvette said before she pushed the button for the elevator. You didn’t respond. You were not about to agree with her no matter how much you did in fact, agree.

“He likes when he gets to you. I think he lives for your sparring.”

“He needs to live for his Centrum Silver vitamins.”

Yvette snorted and laughed loudly getting on the elevator that opened going down. Before the doors closed she leaned closer.

“More than ten years and still you two drive one another crazy. Ya’ know, there is a way to get rid of the tension between you that only requires a flat surface and doesn’t involve speaking.”

It took a few moments for you to get it, but your jaw dropped when you did. Yvette smiled as the elevator doors closed and another opened ready to take you upstairs to your apartment. Did she just suggest you hate fuck your brother’s best friend?

~~~~~~~~~

Five hours later, her words were still on the brain even though you’d done several things since leaving your brother’s apartment. You’d managed to get through your end of the week cleaning, get ahead on a few love, romance and fashion articles for the web magazine you worked at, accomplish an hour or two of shopping at your favorite mall, grabbed take out from your most loved restaurant and even ate it while you and your friends facetimed and group watched a few episodes of your friend watch show all the while drinking down several bottles of wine and trash talking everything and everyone you knew.

There were no way Yvette’s words should still be in your head but there they were wafting around and even floating in the air of your apartment.

Ya’ know, there is a way to get rid of the tension between you that only requires a flat surface and doesn’t involve speaking.”

As you finished yet another glass of wine, your mind wandered to some of those surfaces. Your eyes dropped to the coffee table in front of you, the rectangular dining table in the dining area, the kitchen countertop that was just in view thanks to your open floor plan, the window seat in front of your large bay windows hell even the floor caught your eye and the ottoman resting on it. Shit you thought, grabbing the wine bottle, and bringing it to your head forgoing the glass altogether.

“Eh-em, excuse me Ms. Ma’am, what was that sound that came from you and what the hell are you doing to that bottle?”

Your attention went back to your iPad and Nicole’s question. Then you realized your tongue was swirled around the spout of the bottle and your hands gripped around the thick middle.

“It’s not a dick, Y/N.”

They all laughed in an uproar. You rolled your eyes then took a mouthful of wine and put the bottle beside you.

“Where was your mind just now?”

You stayed quiet.

“Was it on a certain tall, white, and handsome best friend who is now in town and showing out all over social?”

Your fingers itched to grab your phone to see what Mona was talking about. Was he showing out? Resisting the urge, you grabbed the bottle instead and took another swig.

“Are you talking about her nemesis, Chris? Y/N I heard he got finer than fine,” Delaney piped up.

“Got? The man had always been fine. If anything he got finer. What is he thirty-five?”

You snorted. “Try forty.”

The peanut gallery tuned in all talking over one another debating if he truly was forty and why he didn’t look it and wondering if he performed like it. With each debate your curiosity piqued. To be truthful, your curiosity had truly piqued four years ago when you’d seen him shirtless in swim trunks and rocking a chest full of tattoos. You knew he liked tats and that he’d even added a few over the years but that is what you thought he had—a few. A few it was not, the man was tatted up like he was part of the Irish mob, rocking an enviable six pack, swole biceps and an ass to bounce two nickels off of to make ten cents, and sporting his Boston accent all over the place.

Your intense reaction to him was one of the reasons you avoided him the four years. If he came to visit you made yourself scarce, never appearing around him. In the four years he’d probably seen you a handful of times all over facetime and from the neck up. remembering his frame from earlier you realized now that he’d bulked up even more. You took another gulp of wine then grabbed your phone. You were a strong woman but why be strong when you could give in. You found his social media and looked at each of the eight pictures he’d posted since you’d left the apartment. There were two shots of him and your brother, one of them in a party bus with their other friends, men you’d seen plenty of times, most from your brother’s college days. The six that followed show the decent into debauchery the night had taken.

They were surrounded by drinks, bottles, women and food. The last picture he posted was of him seated and a bottle girl in his lap holding a rather large bottle of Dom as it sprayed into the air. His hands were wrapped around her stomach, and they looked happier than two turtle doves. Chummy, you thought giving your eyes a quick roll.

“See em’? He is thotin’ tonight,” Toni added.

A mixture of saltiness and annoyance filled you. The man had been a thot since the first day you met him with you were barely eighteen. A memory of accidentally interrupting him with not one but two barely dressed big breasted girls that eerily looked alike. They hadn’t noticed you when you walked in and continued the three way kiss they were taking part in while their hands entangled with one another’s feeling over their bodies.

The carnal sounds of their kissing and moans filled the room and you should have looked away immediately but there was a ten second lag where his eyes met yours while he continued to kiss the possible twins. The look in his eyes was such an intense one that it made a deep part of your belly bubble and tingle like a freshly uncorked bottle of champagne shooting an effervescent waterfall of sugar and loose inhibitions out over a crowd of rowdy partyers. Before the feeling intensified, you bolted from the room. Thirty minutes later, your brother officially introduced you to each other and the look that you’d noticed in his eyes thirty minutes ago was hidden better but still glimmers could be seen. It was mischief.

Every time you saw each other you saw that look—every single time.

“Y/N!”

Snapping out of the memory you returned your attention to your group facetime.

“Girl you know that man is fine!”

They all laughed together as you brought your wine bottle to your head and that is where it remained until it was empty.

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Saturday-

The honks from outside could be heard clearly and were steadily getting louder with each passing minute. You tossed to you side and groaned. Another loud blare of a car horn echoed around you, and you flopped to your back. A loud disgruntled groan left you as you slapped a pillow over your head. Even that wasn’t enough to grown out the four honks that came after.

“What the fuck!”

You kicked off the blankets in huff of aggression then flung your eye mask to the side of the room and stomped to your large industrial steel factory style windows and lifted the latch that allowed you to open it. Sticking your head out, you let it rip.

“People are trying to sleep!”

You were ten stories up and probably looked like a nut job, but you didn’t care. This was just disrespect at this point. Slamming the window shut you hurried to your bathroom eyes still mostly closed. After a quick squat on the toilet, you stood in front of the half body vanity mirror looking at your blurry reflection. Groaning, you rolled your neck then began washing your hands. With your toothbrush in hand, you lazily brushed wishing you were still in your bed wrapped in the cozy blankets and back in the dream you were rudely woken from.

You drifted back to the last scene of that dream. You were sitting comfortably in your living room lounging around and in walked brother’s asshole best friend also known as Chris. He wore the tightest white shirt and medium wash jeans that hugged his waist so right. In his hands he carried a trey of treats—strawberries, small diced melon and wedged apples and pineapple. When he approached he took his place behind you then began feeding you the fruit teasing your lips with their juices.

When he tipped your chin up and brought his lips to yours, a small moan escaped you. He kissed you with expertise, and a passion that stole your breath but when he brought those lips to your neck you melted. Chris’ hand cupped your right breast then trailed lower and lower until they disappeared inside your barely there lounge shorts. You gasped and arched off of the couch, his name a whisper of a cloud on your lips.

Slowly your face came into focus in the mirror and horror filled you.

“What the fuck!”

You leaped back as if his reflection shone back at you.

“What the fuck? What the fuck!?”

You spit the toothpaste out then rinsed your mouth as if you were trying to rid it of more than toothpaste—maybe his kiss. As you thought of it again you gagged.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?”

You pressed your face close to the mirror and peered into your eyes.

“Get a fucking grip. You hate him. He’s disgusting.”

Those facts were not enough because you still saw his lips.

“He’s your brother’s best friend and he’s a whore!”

Still your head was not letting it sink in. It was still stuck on his lips, the imagined feel of them, the taste of his mouth that looked like it could taste of sugar and spice and every single thing nice. Your head was lost—a goner. Groaning you grabbed your breast the one he’d cupped in your dream. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip and your reflection caught your eye—it was that reflection that had you tearing your hand away from your body.

“Get a grip! The dick might be good, but you don’t want no parts of it!”

Nodding, you wiped your face and mouth then walked back out on a mission for the strongest cup of coffee you’d ever made in your life. It was not you regretted those three bottles of wine. It wasn’t like you didn’t know what to expect, you knew that particular brand of wine crept up on you then knocked you down hard. Rubbing your forehead, you finished the distance of your long hallway then turned into the open concept living room, dining room and kitchen. It was then the scent of the coffee hit you like a pillow to the face.

From where you stood you saw no one and wondered why you smelled coffee. You took a few steps toward the kitchen but stopped when the empty bottles and take out caught your eye on the coffee table in the living room.

“Fuck.”

Changing course, you walked into the living room, bent, and gathered the four empty bottles of wine and the now empty food container. When you turned, you stopped in your tracks. There in the kitchen at the long concrete top island stood Chris with wide eyes, a dropped jaw, and an equally as frozen stance as you. Oh my god, you thought. He wore a crisp white t-shirt and the same medium wash denim jeans as you’d dreamed less than ten minutes ago.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

Neither of you moved a muscle, you just stood there taking one another in. The way the shirt fit him accentuated his ripe and in his prime figure. He wasn’t full of shit last night when he’d said it. He looked it. your eyes trailed to his trim waist and the sliver of flesh peeking through thanks to his raised and outstretched arms. A tattoo looked back at you and from where it was you knew it was a new one—one you hadn’t clocked the last time you’d seen him shirtless.

You were so lost in your examination of him that you didn’t realize until now your eyes weren’t the only ones roaming. His were slowly raking across your figure. that was when you thought to look over yourself. You didn’t make it too far before your eyes stopped at your breasts that were pretty visible through the cropped sheer pink lace tank that not only was low cut in the front to show off the swell of your breasts but see through enough for the shape of them and color of your nipples to be impossible to hide. It all came back then. The bottoms you were weren’t bottoms at all. it was a matching lace thong.

You snapped your head up and knew he’d seen it all.

“Oh fuck!”

Your loud voice did nothing to break his gaze. Still his eyes were glued to you, even when you dropped the things in your hands to cover yourself the best you could.

“Chris!”

Stirring, he dropped the things in his hands to the counter then slapped his hands to his eyes.

“Fuck!”

“What the fuck!”

You were panicking now and the only thing you thought to do was run. So that was what you did. You ran from the living room right back to your bedroom, mortification filling you. You buried yourself in your bed under the covers and screamed into your pillows as you tried to come to terms with what just happened. Everything played in slow motion in your head and every single detail only made you feel more embarrassment. He’d seen you practically naked. He’d seen your body.

After a few short minutes you leapt up and crossed to your floor length mirror and looked at yourself. Yep, there was no way he hadn’t seen anything. Your apartment was well lit and bright, and you were even standing before the windows that gave you the best natural light for your selfies. You thought back to how his eyes roamed your skin and you groaned. He’d taken in every detail. Spinning around, you looked at your bare ass then clasped your hands over your mouth and screamed.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

Thanks to you being bent over to get the bottles, he’d seen your ass too. You stood there still and now in shock. Your brother’s best friend who you’d been dreaming about appeared in the same outfit from your dream and seen you practically naked.

“Oh god.”

You paced your room trying to figure out what to do. How were you going to go back out there? How were you going to face him from this day on? You pulled out your robe then tied it tightly against your body. It was then you thought on an important note—what was he thinking about your body. You hated it but you wondered how you stacked up to the tens of women he must have slept with in his lifetime. You groaned then slapped your head.

“What does it matter, Y/N? it doesn’t. It’s not like you’re ugly. You’re happy with your body. All your exes loved your body, you love your body. It’s a hot body. You’re hot!”

You nodded then shook your head. You sounded like an idiot.

“What the fuck is he doing here? How the fuck--.”

Your anger took over and you stormed out of your room ready to kick his ass. When you stepped into the living room again he bolted off your counter. You noticed his face was red.

“What the fuck Chris!”

He raised his hands and backed up as you got closer.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? What the fuck are you doing here? How the fuck did you get in here?”

He held up a key that you knew was your brothers. Your jaw dropped.

“Fuck no! Where did you get that?”

“Your brother. He gave it to me. He said you guys have breakfast every Saturday morning and said it was cool,” he rushed out.

Narrowing your eyes, your anger reached new heights.

“So you just what decided a little breaking and entering into a woman’s apartment without her knowledge was a good way to start your Saturday?”

“I didn’t break and enter. I have a key.”

You rounded the corner of the island and you saw he knew the error he’d made. Raising his hands again he backed away.

“Y/N,” he cautioned. “Wait---wait---I called. I left a message, I even texted.”

You paused and sighed in frustration. You’d long blocked his ass.

“Fuck!”

“Check your phone you’ll see. I didn’t mean to—over step and see--,” he stuttered. You spun around glaring at him.

“See what? What’d you see?”

The struggle his eyes were going through to remain topside was evident. It would have been funny in any other situation but not right now.

“What’d you see?”

“Nothing! I saw nothing.”

After a few moments, you backed off and left wide space between you trying to ignore how your skin tingled being close. The silence stretched and introduced awkwardness into atmosphere. You groaned and caught whiff of coffee again then moved to pour yourself a large mug. As you fixed your drink you took in the spread of breakfast foods across the island. There were corn muffins, bagels, scrambled eggs with cheese, croissants, sausages, bacon, smoked salmon shavings, an assortment of jams and jellies and a few other items. When your eyes landed on the fruit selection you took in the pineapple, apples, melon and strawberries and you groaned.

“Oh fuck!”

You turned your back to it and took a big gulp of the coffee ignoring the burn on your taste buds.

“I know corn muffins and the turkey variety of bacon is your favorite,” he said in a timid voice.

Good you thought, he wasn’t so self-assured right now.

“I even got the fruits you like. Pineapple and strawberries are your favorites right?”

You didn’t answer and chose to ignore the fact he knew your favorites. He was not going to charm himself out of this blunder.

“Come on Binky. How do you think I feel seeing my practical sister--.”

You spun around so quick the liquid in your mug sloshed over the rim dripping onto your fingers. You ignore it.

“Excuse me? Your sister? I’m not your sister. We have no relation.”

Chris’ eyes locked with yours. “You’re right. I guess since it’s been so long—I see you—saw you kinda--.”

“Like a sister? Is that how you see me?”

Chris’ eyes dropped to your chest and seconds later he darted them to the side then sat on the stool on the other side of the island. Whatever he was going to say was gone.

“I’m sorry.”

The door then opened and in walked your asinine brother who would give someone your apartment key without thinking anything of it. He trusted this fool that wholly. He probably didn’t think any harm could come of it.

“Hello, hello, hello! I brought the cheese Danishes and the thing.”

As he got to the island he stopped and glanced between the two of you. “Uh—is something wrong?”

You clenched your jaw and took a big gulp of your coffee trying hard not to fling it at him.

“Did you wake her up, C? She only gets cranky when she’s woken up.”

If only he knew, you thought to yourself taking the stool nearest you and dragging it the furthest from Chris.

“Here, maybe this will make up for this,” your bother said sliding a pastel pink wrapped gift your way that was topped with a white confetti dotted ribbon.

“What’s that?”

“A gift. Chris got it for you.”

You paused and glanced at him. He averted his eyes.

“Open it.”

“I don’t want it,” you said before you thought about it.

“Come on, Y/N. This rivalry you have has to end. He thought about you on his way here and brought you a gift. Accept it. It’s definitely not like you to turn a gift down.”

You glared at him then rolled your eyes. He made you sound like a gold digger.

“Tell her Chris.”

“It’s okay man, if she doesn’t want it I don’t want to force her. I’ll just return it.”

He spoke without looking at you. Was he now ashamed of what just happened? As he reached for it, you got the urge to grab onto it like it was your precious and you were Gollum, so you did touching his hand in the process. Chris’s eyes met yours for a moment and it wasn’t shame you saw there. It was something sweltering, something complex, something--. Before you could place it, Chris yanked his hands back as if your flesh were hot coals and averted his eyes again. What was that?

“Open it,” your brother said through a mouthful of food.

Slowly you untied the ribbon then rested it beside you then got started on the wrapping paper. You took your time taking Chris in as you did it. He looked nervous, maybe even anxious like he was worried you wouldn’t like it. Your curiosity piqued even more. After a few minutes, you had the gift box in front of you ready to open. When you did, your breath hitched. Flexing your fingers, you hesitated.

“What is it?”

Before you, was a lamp like fixture that was all gold and intricately designed. Your bottom lip quivered so you snapped it between your teeth. You took in the lamp and smiled as you saw the replicas of star constellations you knew well. It was the night sky. You lifted it out of the box noting the heaviness. It was possibly real gold.

“What is that?”

“The constellations in the night sky,” you softly said.

From your peripheral you saw the side of Chris’ mouth quirk up just a touch. It was then you noticed the gold dome could be removed, so you lifted it and another intricately designed gold design appeared. This one was different from the first. Again you lifted it and revealed another, then another. In total there were four and you understood instantly.

“Why so many?”

“Because the constellations in the sky are slightly—,” Chris began

“Different depending on the season and when you look,” you finished.

Your eyes met and the anger and annoyance you felt for him minutes ago faded. This was a thoughtful gift. You loved the stars and constellations. You didn’t know he knew that about you.

“Is this real gold?”

Chris cleared his throat then nodded. This was an extremely thoughtful gift you thought. Pulling yourself together you cleared your throat, straightened your back then began packing the lamp away.

“Thank you.”

“You like it?”

Meeting his eyes you held it gaze.

“I love it.”

Something flashed in his eyes and that something made your stomach flutter. Both of you looked away from one another at the same time. Your brother clapped his hands once and smiled.

“Finally. A truce. It only took over a decade.”

Now you wondered something else. Why would he get you this? It was thoughtful, personal, some would even say intimate. Why would he bother?

After breakfast you showered and dressed then joined them for a shopping trip that they insisted on. Every store you went into, they followed. Normally your brother would moan and groan about shopping with you but with Chris as his company he had plenty of entertainment. Chris didn’t even look bothered by your store hopping antics. He quietly walked around not groaning once about the items you piled into their hands.

When you tried on outfits and modeled them your brother was the one with most of the critique while Chris remained silent. Though his mouth was shut, his eyes took in every detail of the outfits you chose. Every so often you noticed his eyes on you from across the store, noticed how his eyes weren’t as scrutinous as they had been before. Now there was something else there, something that felt dangerous to suss out.

Nearly two grand and five hours later, the three of you sat in a restaurant for lunch. While your brother and Chris talked about some baseball game, you scrolled through your phone ignoring them. Bringing the straw in your glass to your lips your chewed it. The burn of eyes bore into you making you glance up to find Chris’ eyes on you—or your mouth. The darkness of his gaze heated your skin more than the sun shining through the window beside you. Dropping his eyes, you looked back to your phone unsure when he began affecting you like this.

“Y/N?”

You turned to find Elijah standing there with a wide smile.

“Elijah.”

“Hey there beautiful.”

You stood and gasped as he pulled you into his arms for a tight embrace. The scraping of a chair against the floor echoed in the restaurant and you peeped back to see Chris standing with a confrontational look on his face.

“It’s cool. What’s good Elijah?”

Elijah and your brother dabbed each other up while you studied Chris and his odd reaction.

“Elijah is our Binky’s boyfriend.”

“Ex, you interjected unsure why you felt the need to clarify.

Elijah chuckled nervously making you feel a little bad about it. “Yeah, ex,” he reiterated.

“This is Chris. She’s like a sister to him.”

There goes that connection again. Like a sister. Hearing it now you wanted to cringe.

“Oh cool, cool. Elijah man, nice to meet you.”

He held his hand out and waited for Chris to shake it. It was a slow process but eventually he took Elijah’s hand and shook it.

“A beautiful woman can’t have too many brothers looking out for her.”

An audible gag escaped you and their eyes fell to you. “Sorry. Ignore me.”

“Am I seeing you tonight, peaches?”

Automatically you felt embarrassed at the nickname he’d given you after the first time he’d tasted you.

“Wow, Lijah,” you warned gently slapping his toned gut.

“What’s tonight, Binky?”

It was Chris who asked standing taller. You looked between him and Elijah wondering why the testosterone levels hade jumped.

“Freaknic party,” Elijah informed. “Peaches always makes an appearance.”

“Aight, cool, then we all should come. Right?”

Chris looked to your brother who looked confused but nodded. He didn’t look at you though.

“That’s cool right Elijah?”

It’s all good. The more the merrier. Anyway peaches, hit me up.”

His smile was wide and so damn sexy. He made it easy to forget what you’d broken up.

“We’ll see.”

He laughed then dipped down and kissed your jaw.

“Aight, stay up man.”

With that Elijah was gone and you all were sitting again.

“Why does he call you peaches?”

Your eyes met Chris’.

“Cause none of you ever wanna use my name. You so damn nosey!”

You went back to your phone, but you still felt his glare and it was hotter than the sun—much hotter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t think anything of lunch as you began to get ready for your night. You went through the bags of clothes and shoes you’d bought earlier and tried to find the best one. When you were elbows deep in clothes you noticed a bag from a store you hadn’t gone into. As you dug into it, you pulled out a shoe box and marveled at the impressively blinged out pair of heels.

“Wow.”

A card at the bottom of the box caught your eye and when your read the words you knew who they were from.

Saw these and thought they’d look nice. Pink is a good color on you, binky.

-C

You scoffed. The man wanted this heel right between his eyes or better yet right between his legs. Mischief sparked in you. You’d show him. You pulled a slinky pink metallic dress from one of the bags and laughed to yourself. Let’s see if he’d still call you a baby now. For the next hour, you primped and primed yourself layering scents, applying your make up, adding some body glitter and even making your hair into the perfect specimen of seduction. Tonight was probably going to be Elijah’s lucky night but just for one night. Was it fair to him? probably not, but you didn’t care right now. You wanted to get your rocks off, shit it was verging on to a need.

When you got to the club you smiled and hugged everyone you knew. Everyone complimented your look telling you how good you looked. Eating up the praise you took a few selfies and posted them to your social media. No use letting the look go to waste. From behind you, you heard your name. Turning, you gawked seeing your brother and Chris standing there. Instantly Chris’ eyes scanned your body before he clenched his jaw.

“What’re you two doing here? I thought this was boy’s weekend.”

“It is. We just told everyone to come here tonight.”

“I don’t need a chaperone.”

Your brother shook his head and looked you over.

“No just a gate keeper dressed like that.”

You glared at him. “Don’t need one of those either.”

“Don’t worry, you got two,” your brother said motioning to Chris beside him.

Kissing your teeth you turned and walked away knowing they’d see the low back of the dress. You gave no fucks. You felt the eyes drawing to you as you walked through but when no one approached you knew Chris and your brother were close behind you scaring everyone away. Sighing you slid into a booth and they both slid in beside you, sandwiching you in the middle.

“You’re fucking kidding. Space.”

“Nope, not tonight.”

Elijah came over then wearing a black and white ensemble and a smile.

“Hey there peaches.”

You smiled widely. “Elijah, finally. A drink?”

“Of course.”

“You pushed yourself up onto the booth seat knowing your entire thigh was on display but not caring. Elijah reached for your hand, and you took it stepping onto the table and escaping the clutches of your chaperones.

“See ya!”

Laughing you let Elijah lead you away only glancing back to stick your tongue out at both of them. No one puts baby in a corner—or in this case, the middle. Once at the bar, Elijah looked you up and down and licked his lips.

“You showin’ out tonight, huh?”

“Nah. Not even a little.”

He laughed and shook his head. “I can imagine your brother and like a brother are losing their minds tonight.”

“He is not my brother,” you said on an exasperated breath.

“So what is he?”

You looked back to where they were sitting and found your brother’s attention elsewhere with his other friends that were now swarming the table, but Chris’ eyes were locked on you, and he looked pissed.

“He is my brother’s best friend—that’s all.”

Elijah came closer to you dipping to your ear. He was so close you felt his lips against the shell of it. Before that would have made you shiver—or something. Now, there was nothing.

“He doesn’t look at you like that’s all.”

The fuck, you thought. Glancing at Elijah he nodded. “Just sayin.”

You looked back to Chris and still his eyes were boring a hole into you. You snorted; Elijah was mistaken.

“You’re wrong. He even said he sees me like a sister. Calm down.”

Elijah wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you against him. “Just making sure you know what’s up, girl.”

You laughed. A few minutes after your first drink was in you, Elijah led you to the dancefloor and this was where the fun began. Elijah had always been a good dancer and he liked to show off often. You allowed him to lead you into a sexy, dirty dance and let him touch on your waist and back. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t touched on before. When you were flush against him, Elijah nipped your neck then whispered in your ear about how sexy you looked and how delicious you smelled. You wondered how long he’d been here and how much he’d had to drink.

Turning you pressed your back and ass into him and winded your hips. Elijah could handle himself and liked to let you know it and he didn’t let you break him not even for a second. You laughed.

“See girl, I can handle your ass.”

You snorted. “Boy, you can’t handle it. Hence you being an ex.”

Laughing at his reaction you pushed him away then walked off the dancefloor. From the corner of your eye, Chris caught your eye leaning against the railing of the balcony. Had he been watching this whole time? You approached him once you climbed the steps.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Not as much as you.”

“You’re welcomed to go. I bet you can find a scene more your style, or maybe a bottle girl can sit on your lap here too.”

He scoffed. “IG stalking?”

“Never. No man deserves that.”

Not even me?”

He leaned a little closer with one eyebrow cocked.

“Especially you.”

He laughed to himself then took a sip from his glass.

“Why’s he an ex?”

“Why are you so nosey?”

“Just curious. It must not have been anything bad because you’re still—close.”

“Not that close. Every once in a while we hook up but it’s nothing.”

You saw the muscles in his jaw clench and your curiosity piqued.

“Is that a problem?”

He studied you and the scrutinous eyes were back. It was astonishing how one look like this from him made you feel small and submissive.

“We all got needs right? Maybe don’t tell your actual brother that though.”

“Ah but I can tell you—my nonactual brother. Right?”

He looked at you again a half-amused smirk on his lips. “Yeah. Your nonactual brother.”

You both chuckled to yourselves. After a few moments, you looked at him and took him in. He wore a nice coordinated blue outfit, a fitted sky-blue sweater vest inside a slightly different shaded blue blazer with matching pants. It was another good fit. Blue was definitely his color. Hearing him clear he throat; you found his eyes on you as your eyes were below his waist admiring the shape of his ass in those well fitting blue slacks.

“Em. Uh—thank you again for the—gift.”

“No worries. Maybe you’ll think of me when you use it.”

“Is that what you want? Me to think of you?”

Your eyes locked again. He slowly sighed. “You’ve changed a lot in four years binky.”

You could hear the stress in his voice as if it was the last thing he’d expected or wanted.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Chris looked away and spoke as he raised his glass to his lips. “Incredibly bad.”

“Why?”

“Nothing good can come from it.”

You were confused. What was he talking about? He turned to walk off but stopped.

“You coming, binky?”

Shaking it off, you followed him back to the table.

The night was spent drinking, laughing and dancing your ass off. You knew your brother’s friends were a good time, but you’d forgotten how fun they were. In between joking around with them you danced with a brave few who breached the huddle to ask you to dance. When that happened everyone’s eyes were on you watching to make sure none of them pulled anything. It was endearing but you weren’t some fragile dove who needed protecting. More times than not, Chris watched you, but he didn’t speak to you again and when your eyes locked his jaw clenched. It was bewildering, a puzzle you wanted to piece together.

A few hours later in the middle of a dance with your brother, he pulled Chris over telling him to take his place while he refilled his drink. Both of you stood there in an awkward way unsure how to initiate a dance let alone together. Slowly you began dancing but your bodies remained very far from one another. In all your years of knowing each other you’d never found yourself in this situation. You doubted you’d even been on a dancefloor together.

Suddenly a fight broke out behind you, a large body was hurtling right to you and the next thing you knew you were against Chris’ body with his arms wrapped around you. Your eyes met and everything happening around you faded away. There were no bodies, no commotion, no fights, hell even the music was gone. In the darkness of the club, you could still make out the exact shade of blue his eyes were—light icy blue. Good God, you thought noticing the way he held you.

His hands gripped your waist and hip and the way he gripped you gave you an impression of just how big his hands were—they were mammoth sized. Your belly quivered, and the searing heat from those paws only made it worse. You could feel your nipples pebble underneath the thin material of your metallic dress, and you wondered if he felt it too. The grip of his hand on your hip tightened and for a moment his eyes tinted darker—much darker.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

For the first time you noticed your back was pressed to something and that was when you realized that in the commotion, Chris had gotten you off the dancefloor away from danger and you were not tucked into a dark corner. A very dark corner. Chris’ eyes never left yours and from the way your body pressed to his you knew he was built under that shirt. He was in the best shape of his life. Your eyes dipped to his chest where the hints of his chest tattoos peeked out along with a little bit of chest hair. He smelled good.

“God damn,” you whispered.

Chris groaned and the rumble of it only made your nipples harden more—painfully so. They were practically begging to be touched.

“You—you okay?”

You met his eyes again and bit your top lip. “You?”

Chris’ eyes dropped to your lips and the longing you saw in his eyes made you press against him more.

“Jesus,” he hissed out.

“What?”

“Unfuckinbelievable, you’re oblivious,” Chris forced out.

The hand that was on your waist was gone and now pressed into the wall, caging you in.

“Oblivious to what?”

He looked at you and he almost looked like he was pleading with you for something. His hand on your hip tightened again and a flutter against your belly stole your breath. Before you could register what it was or acknowledge it, you heard him start with the first syllable of your name, but it was so low you could miss it, but what came out was not your name.

“Binky.”

He pulled away from you, steadied your frame, then dropped his hands. Keeping his head low he spoke.

“Let’s get you back.”

As he walked away it was then you realized why he only ever called you Binky and it wasn’t to tease you. It was to keep himself in check. That was an erection you felt against your belly. He wanted you.

~~~~~~~~

The best laid plans often go awry. That was the theme of your night. By the time you made it back to your apartment it was nearly three in the morning, and you were alone. You’d left with every intention of getting Elijah behind you to relive an itch that had crept up on you, but you’d left alone with more of an itch and plenty of confused questions. After wracking your brain for answers and clues, you decided you were drunk and imagining things. There was no way your brother’s best friend and your nemesis had gotten a hard on from you. There was no way he wanted you like that, no way he saw you like that. Right?

Sitting on your kitchen island with your bottle of Patron to your lips, you thought over the events of the night. You analyzed every word spoken from his lips. Ten years ago they weren’t so full, or so hypnotizing. You began to wonder if he’d had work done on them or had he just used them so much over the years that they’d just gotten better. You took another gulp of the fiery tequila and held your breath as the burn engulfed your mouth. As you thought over your night you kept coming back to the look of disapproval on Chris’ face. He looked annoyed whenever you were around anyone else, but looked angry when you were around him. What kind of confusing shit is that?

“Nothing good can come from it.”

His words echoed in your head.

“What the fuck did that mean?”

Then you remembered him saying you were oblivious. After another gulp you groaned.

“It was a fucking erection. He was hard.”

You didn’t imagine that shit or wish it so. It was so. Faced with it, you had to take another swig. As you did you heard the faintest of knocks on your door. It startled you so much some of the Patron spilled over your chest and down between your breasts.

“Shit,” you hissed sitting quietly craning your head to hear better.

When no sounds followed you dropped back across the island and stared at the ceiling. In the silence of your apartment and under the haze of the smorgasbord of alcohol you’d drunk through the night you finally faced the uncomfortable, terrifying, but certain truth.

“I am attracted to him.”

Another truth quickly followed. “I want him to want me.”

This one you said on a whisper as if you said it with bass the walls would hear and carry the confession down the hall, down the stairs and right to his ears in your brother’s apartment where he was probably knocked out from his own alcohol haze. Sighing you closed your eyes.

“You’re just drunk and horny, Y/N. That is all.”

Deciding maybe all you needed was to rub one out, you propped your heeled feet at the edge of the island spreading wide for no one but your smart fridge. In your mind’s eye you imagined there was something there and that someone just so happened to have Chris’ face. Rather than pausing to think why, you forged ahead and decided to use the mental stimuli. Your fingers crept over your breast, squeezing and taunting your nipple before dipping down between your legs. You slid your slinky thong to the side you trailed the tips of your fingers over your slit. A hiss escaped you when you found what you knew you would—a wet slippery mess.

“Fuck,” you croaked.

You had intended to go slow and tease your release but that one touch and the vision of Chris standing there watching you tipped you over the edge. Your finger circled your clit using the moisture there as lubricant. After a few tight circles, your spine tingled and your knees fell back even more.

“Uuugh. Chris,” you whispered.

You imagined his cocky smirk and you slipped two fingers into your heat and pumped immediately upon entrance. Your back arched off the island and that was all it took for you to be off to the races. Your moans and pants filled the space and steadily became louder and more desperate. You squeezed your eyes tightly holding on to the image of Chris in your mind and how he would look watching you get off. Would he like how wet you were just for him?

“Yes, Chris. Chris—haaaa, I’m so wet. Yes—make me cum, I wanna cum.”

The fingers now making fast, wide circles on your clit and the two fingers buried within yourself picked up speed and the sound of your wetness squelching around your digits echoed in the kitchen. You were so fucking wet it was unbelievable. No one had ever made you this wet. You could feel the pressure building within you, feel the tension and icy hot tingles that resembled the painful pinpricks of an asleep limb. You felt like this was going to be a massive orgasm.

Gasping you held your breath as the sensations overtook you and carried you wherever the hell they wished. You screeched and clamped your legs together, but your hands kept moving and inching you higher and higher and higher until your chest burned from lack of oxygen.

“Aaaah, Chris, fuuuck!”

Opening your eyes just a sliver an upside-down image of a blue blazer clad man standing just at your door flashed before you closed them for a few moments getting lost in the absolute bliss you felt. Your body felt weightless, like it was floating as tingles skittered all through you making you feel like you were magic itself, sheer powerful and ethereal magic. Your eyes fluttered open again and the figure still stood there. Through your blurry eyes you recognized the face—Chris.

You smirked, a wide gleeful, intoxicated smile spreading across your face. You were so out of it you were still imagining him as you rode the waves of pleasure, pleasure that heightened because of his face in your mind. You bit your bottom lip, withdrew your fingers then brought them up holding your hand out as if you wanted the imaginary figure to taste them—taste you. Your eyes closed again and seconds later you swore you felt a warm mouth enclose around your dripping fingers. Soft pressure wrapped around them then you heard a heady groan.

“So fucking delicious.”

You smirked again. “Mmmm.”

A soft lips pressed against your wrist then a sharp nic. Then your hand clattered to the island. Your eyes felt heavy and body barely there, fluttering your eyes open again you looked around, but you were alone. It was just you, sprawled out on your island countertop daydreaming about and cumming to the face of your brother’s best friend. You were so fucked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Sunday-

You groaned deeply as, Evan, the masseuse labored over you. He pushed into your flesh kneading your tense muscles not taking it easy on you per your request. Every time he applied enough pressure to realign a spine you groaned.

“Are you sure it’s not too much?”

“No—I need—all of this.”

“Stressful day yesterday?”

You scoffed remembering your actions last night. After your release on the island top and a quick nap that you awoke from in a fevered frenzy due to yet another wet dream. This wet dream led you to the shower where you once again found a release. Then when you thought you’d get some relief to sleep it was not to be, you went for round three and four back-to-back. You’d woken up this morning high strung and on edge. The softest material on your breasts sent you into arousal, everything sent you that much closer to needing to stick your hand down your pants. You’d never felt this out of control in your entire sexual life. this prepubescent boy shit did not happen to you.

“I guess that’s a word for it.”

“Well, I’m a good listener if you want to talk about it.”

Putting words to the things going through your head were dangerous. Did you have the balls to face it? should you even face it? You wouldn’t see him again probably for another four years. did your current malfunction matter in the grand scheme of things? Once he left you could push it to the side and bury it in your closet never touching it again. Your horniness of today could be forgotten tomorrow. That was just what it was after all—horniness. Nothing more.

It’s not like you wanted to go on dates, spend weekends together, cuddle in bed while whispering your secrets and fears, or have Sunday dinners with family, or exchange birthday gifts, Christmas presents or even kiss at midnight on new years. You didn’t want boo’d up or couple antics. Right? This was Chris Evans after all. Your brother’s best friend from college, his frat brother whose sordid past you knew all about. This was the man who’d teased you about everything, the way you dressed, wore your hair, did your nails, walked, talked, ate. Hell he even teased you over the men you dated or spent your time with.

“It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with it,” Evan said breaking through your thoughts.

“That’s not it Evan,” you said before you sighed. “The thing is I think I might want to—to have sex with my brother’s best friend.”

You closed your eyes allowing the words you said to float in the open air for the first time ever.

“Sooo—have sex with him.”

You snorted then laughed loudly. He made it sound so simple. Men, you thought.

“I’m sorry am I being obtuse? “

You glanced back at him, “Obtuse, Evan?”

“What? Men read too.”

You snorted and nodded laying back down. “You right.”

“Seriously. What’s the problem with that? There must be something that’s a no-no about it.”

“He’s my brother’s best friend—my older brother’s best friend.”

“So he’s old? How old?”

“Maybe forty.”

“Forty? Is this a young forty or didn’t age well forty?”

“Young in the prime of his life forty,” you replied.

“Girl you better buss it open.”

You laughed again hearing Evan voice the words you’d screamed at yourself internally.

“I don’t see a problem.”

“So it’s not a no-no when you think of my brother?”

“You’re not fucking your brother.”

You nearly vomited in your mouth.

“Sorry, but am I right or right?”

Sighing you nodded.

“Don’t let an older man scare you away either. I am currently boo’d up with this man who is nearly sixteen years older than me. I was apprehensive at first but honestly we have a lot in common and the bedroom—sheets on fire.”

You squealed for him.

“Now you gotta be honest with yourself. Is it you wanna fuck him or be with him?”

“Nope. I don’t wanna be with him,” you quickly corrected.

“Okay then it seems you know what you want. Get it poppin’.”

Were you over thinking this?

Two hours later, you were in your elevator arms filled with shopping bags and a slightly new outlook. You’d been getting ahead of yourself. You had no confirmation that this was something real and not imagined in your horny brain. You were here operating like it was said and done but it wasn’t. He could seriously not even want you like that. He could really just see you as a sister and then that would put all this in perspective. You were getting way ahead of yourself.

Once the doors opened on your floor, you walked to your door and found a package sitting there. You found your name and your brother’s name on the box and instantly knew it was a care package from your parents. They were crazy. They only lived thirty or so minutes away. They could easily bring things to you but that one time when they walked in on Yvette and their son was one time too much. They vowed to not do stop bys anymore unless it was scheduled in advance. You usually opened them together then divided the spoils.

Grabbing the box, you turned right back around and walked back into the still waiting elevator. A few moments later the doors opened on your brother’s floor. It didn’t take long to get to his door and when you did you used your spare key. You walked inside and placed your bags down then put the box on the dining table. After taking out your EarPods you heard a muffled voice.

Freezing you listened trying to decipher whose voice it was. You took slow steps to the closed doors. Your brother’s was silent, but you could not hear clearer. It was coming from the guest room. It must have been Chris. For some reason you didn’t think he'd be here. You knew your brother was out getting a cut and just expected him to have taken Chris along for the experience. Guess not, you thought.

You made a move to leave but then you heard a deep, guttural, exaggerated and plenty accented “fuck.” Your head snapped to the door while you stayed right where you were. A long hiss came next and a yelp. Curiosity took over then. With steady and cautious steps you approached the door of the guest room listening extra carefully. A loud groan followed nearly startling you out of your skin stopping you in your tracks. When the door didn’t open you closed the space and leaned on the wall pressing your ear closer.

“Ahhhh, yeeeees!”

Gahdamn, you thought. You had no idea his voice could get so deep. That was all it took for your panties to moisten. You pressed closer needing to hear more. It was obvious what was happening. He was getting a nooner out. You heard strangled whimpers and several huffs of breath—pants. He was panting and he sounded so desperate. You thought of the way he stroked himself. How did he like it? Slow and tight? Fast and lose? A mixture of the two? Was he going fast now? What was he thinking about? Did he rub his thumb over the tip to tease himself more?

“I’m so fucking hard for you. Yes! Play with that pussy.”

Your fingers tingled with the desire to move; you knew where they wanted to go. Fighting the urge you pressed your ear closer. His pants were no breathy, eager, and so fucking sexy. He moaned again, hissed then yelped. With that one yelp your hand clamped over your breasts. You’d never been happier to have gone braless. You slipped your hand under the hang of your crop top and teased your nipple.

“Arch that back. Fuck I’m gonna cum. Ah, shit! Delicious.”

You could hear his strokes now he was going for it, and you would have given anything to watch him go. His moans became muffled as if he were clamping his hand over his mouth. He said something muffled that you couldn’t make out, so you got closer. You were practically pressing your ear to the door now.

“Fuck! Y/N!”

The shock of it made you gasp. Realizing you’d made a sound you slapped your hand over your mouth. Before you could rush off the door flung open and there he stood with a flushed face and in a white men’s tank and black sweats. Neither of you spoke, you just stared at one another. His chest heaved like he’d been running but you knew that wasn’t why. Your eyes fell to his chest where his gold St. Christopher’s chain hung around his neck just between the peeks of his chest tatts. Had you been immune all these years? Had you worn some unknown talisman that blocked you off from all of this and now it’s effectiveness had worn off? Where the fuck was all this coming from?

“Uh---,” Chris began.

“I didn’t hear anything,” you rushed out turning to walk off, but Chris’ hand grabbed your wrist pulling you back and right up against the wall. Your breath hitched from the action but when your eyes met his, your knees nearly gave out.

“No? Nothing?”

Your eyes locked, you didn’t dare speak so you shook your head.

“Nothing at all?”

He stepped closer. You could feel the heat rolling off of him, coaxing your body index to raise. You were in deep shit.

“Nothing? Not one word, or a sound, or—a name?”

His face came so close all you had to do was take the remaining two or so inches. Still, you didn’t move or speak.

“Is this payback? Me hearing you, now you hearing me?”

Confusion swirled in your head but slowly you understood. Last night. You didn’t imagine him at the door. You didn’t imagine him watching you with your back arched off the counter. Your eyes bugged. If you didn’t imagine that then—he’d watched you get off with his name on your lips. Lips. His mouth.

“I can still taste you. Guess I know why he calls you peaches now.”

Holy shit. Your knees chose that moment to give out, but he was right there holding you up and against him. You could feel his hardness. He was still hard. Chris looked from your eyes to your breasts that were painfully pebbled and pressing against his scantily clad chest. His jaw clenched again.

“Jesus fucking Chris, binky.”

With that he pulled off of you backed to the opposite wall to press his back against. He looked like he was in pain.

“Get outta here.”

He said it softly, but you stayed where you were.

“And if I don’t?”

His eyebrow flicked up and those blue orbs scanned your body as he licked his lips.

“Then I am going to do something that your brother will kill me for.”

Still not moving you bit your bottom lip. “Such as?”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Something you don’t want.”

“What makes you think I don’t want it? I could want it—very much.”

Chris took a step to you, stopped then backed away. “Get outta here, Binky. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I have a name.”

“Oh I know your name.”

“When will you use it?”

Chris cocked his head to the side. “This isn’t a fucking game. Not one of our battle of the wits or words. This is--.”

“What is it Chris? Is it you wanting to fuck your best friend’s sister as much as she wants to fuck you?”

He sucked in a breath, dropped his head back and put his hands on his head rubbing his face.

“You’re going to—go Binky. This isn’t happening.”

With that he walked off going back in the room slamming the door behind him leaving you in the hall to face the rejection.

~~~~~~~~

That night you decided a home night was what you needed. The last place you wanted to be was around Chris or your brother. So after a rejuvenating bath, you put on your comfiest set, lit every candle you owned, turned on your mellow out playlist and indulged in one of your favorite bottles of wine. The quiet was welcomed. You had no problem being alone, a lot of times you preferred it. With the lights off and the celestial lamp Chris gave you on you found your nerves easing. A lot had changed this weekend. He wanted you as much as you wanted him, but he had a point, if he acted on it their friendship could be ruined. Was one night really worth that?

Your hormones said yes, it’s well worth it but they’d been friends for such a long time. They were really close. The trust between them was on a whole nother level. It would be crossing a line. Right? You guzzled the wine not stopping until it was empty. As you walked across to the kitchen to get another bottle you decided to avoid him for the remainder of the time he was here. That was the only way for this to fade away. Space and time were all that was needed for this all to be a distant awkward memory. Hell maybe one day you’d both laugh about it.

You walked back to the living room, but the bell stopped you. After a quick glance at the clock, you approached it. It was after eleven. You weren’t expecting anyone tonight. Peeping through the hole you looked into Chris’ face. He was staring right at you. Slowly you backed away.

“I know you’re there.”

Still you remained quiet and brought the wine to your head.

“Come on, Binky.”

“What do you want?”

He didn’t speak automatically, and you went closer wondering if he’d left. As you went to the peep hole you heard his voice and stopped.

“God help me---you.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

He released a groaned sigh. “You know what it means.”

“Good night Chris.”

“Fuck. Don’t be difficult. I know you want me as much as I want you,” he said lowly.

“Did you expect this to be easy?”

He groaned. “Nothing is ever easy with you.”

“So speak your heart or go on and jerk another load.”

“I want you. I want to—touch you, to smell your neck, to hear you whisper my name as you take my cock. Jesus Christ, I want you to take all of this cock. I can’t stop—thinking about it—about you.”

Your belly did somersaults.

“I want to taste you—again and again.”

It should have been shameful how wet you got hearing this. You still wanted to hear one more thing. So you waited. After a minute Chris sighed.

“Y/N.”

It was a strangled whisper. Bingo, you thought as you unlocked the door opening it just a little. Chris looked you from head to toe then licked his lips.

“Say it again.”

He walked inside, kicked the door shut with his foot then said your name again. Gahdamn his voice was deep again. You continued to back away from him, but he followed, stalking you like a predator. When you felt the island at your back, you put the wine bottle down and allowed him to close the space between you.

“Are you sure?”

“You sound scared old man. I thought you were in the prime of your life.”

His lips quirked and seconds later he was on you lifting you then plopping you on the countertop.

“You and this mouth.”

“What about it?”

Chris grabbed the nape of your neck bringing your face to his and whatever sly comment you had ready to fire at him disappeared on your tongue. The look in his eyes made you feel like he was going to devour you.

“Mouthy girls need their mouths stuffed. Is that what you want?”

You nodded. Chris’s hands came to your crop top and before you knew what was what, he was ripping it in half revealing your bare breasts to his eyes for the first time.

“Fucking Christ!”

When his lips came around your nipple you arched back jutting them further out for him to feast. He did just that. His mouth and tongue sloppily devoured your pert nipples licking, nibbling, biting and marking. You didn’t care, it felt too good. Your moans tumbled from your lips and filled the space around you. When you felt liquid streaming down your chest, you opened your eyes and found him pouring the bottle of wine you’d been holding over your skin. His mouth was there to slurp up the liquid. Any droplets he missed his tongue took care of. When he dipped his tongue into your belly button, you instinctively draped your legs over his shoulders.

The bottle clattered to the countertop and his hands found your G-string panties and again the material was ripped. He grabbed your thighs and pressed them apart back to the counter and stared at your sex. The way he looked at you should have made you self-conscious, but it didn’t. You wanted him to look. You wanted him to know that this pretty pussy was always here, and he’d been missing out.

“Such a pretty pussy.”

“It tastes good too.”

Chris smirked then buried his face between your legs. His intention wasn’t to tease you. No, it was to shut you up. He’d told you plenty of times your love of talking back would one day get you in trouble. You wondered if this was that day. You gasped loudly when he sucked your clit into his mouth and applied so much pressure you thought he’d bruise you.

“Ah, fuck!”

You gripped his head, digging your fingers into his hair using it to steer his head. Chris wasn’t having it though. He wanted full control. When you began bucking against his lips sliding your wetness across his lips and beard he moaned. Pulling his head back he locked eyes with you then spit on your pussy. Holy fuck you thought, he was nasty. It wasn’t long before he motor boarded your pussy, making you drop back onto the counter completely. Writhing against the cold surface you panted, moaned, whimpered, and cursed every imaginable curse in the English language.

“Fuck Chris!”

“Mmm, this pussy is delicious.”

He quickly flicked his tongue against your clit then sank two of his digits inside of you.

“Goddamn you’re tight, Y/N.”

He pumped his fingers into you a few times each time taking them further and further, when he used his thumb to swirl your numb you saw stars and not the light show currently going on above you from the lamp.

“Fuuuuck!”

Before you registered it you felt him rub himself against your sex. Snapping your head up to look your jaw dropped seeing him for the first time. He was hard, girthy and bigger than you expected. Your eyes met again, and his brow was cocked but he waited.

“Fuck me.”

Chris scoffed then spit on your pussy once more, though you both knew it didn’t need any more moisture. You were one category below a Tsunami. He pressed forward sending the thick tip in and lord hard mercy you didn’t think you could take a slow decent. Locking your ankles behind him, you pulled him in sucking his full length into your body.

“Holy Fuck!”

The wideness of his eyes said he was just as shocked as your body was. Though it was humming from bliss, his size was a bit of a shock. The two of you must have been feeling the same thing because seconds later Chris’ lips were on yours locking you into a kiss—your first ever. He didn’t kiss the way you’d expected either. This was the kiss of a man with experience, a man with swag, a man with passion. As his tougne swirled around yours, you began rolling your hips moving your body like a tsunami wave fucking him as he stood there. When he whimpered you knew you had him, however he pushed you down onto the counter, gripped your hips then plowed into you.

“Oh god!”

He moved with precision as if he knew just what your body needed. With every thrust, he nudged that special spot within you that you knew you’d be begging him to hit again and again.

“Yes, yes, there! There! Fuck—me!”

His thrusts sped and his grip tightened. When he moved his hands from your hips to your thighs he splayed you open like a freshly gutted fish and went to town. The bright spots of light you saw behind your eyes intensified and you knew you were close.

“You feel so good—better than—Uuugh!”

Suddenly a look of aggression came across Chris’ features and that was when he lifted your bottom half off the countertop hitting a whole new angle. That was when your first orgasm erupted from you. You clamped down around him. The action that would have made any other man cum only made him fuck you harder. You yelped as he pulled you up then yanked you to the edge of the counter so only half your ass sat. He sunk into a slightly squatted position then pistoned upward like his cock was a rocket shit and your depths was the expanse of space that he wanted to fully explore, claim and mark.

Your skin tingled, lungs burned, and ass hurt from the press of the hard countertop into your flesh, but you ignored it. It was all worth it because the pleasure you felt was something otherworldly, something transcendent, something alien.

“God damn Y/N, you make me want to cum, but I can’t. I can’t stop fucking this tight juicy little pussy.”

You gripped his shoulders then slid forward a little then began riding him as he pummeled your pussy with everything he had. Chris shouted then released a sound that to you sounded like a growl. You didn’t know and didn’t care. All you knew was you were rounding on orgasm number three and your body was still on fire begging for more.

“You take this cock so well princess. So—fucking—well!”

Squeezing him you let your release take you and when you heard him whine your fourth overpowered you. Chris held your hips right where they were then used your body as he saw fit. You could tell from the look in his eyes he’d lost all control, all senses and was only chasing the same rainbow waterfall that you’d touched several times already.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me baby, cum for me. Give this tight pussy everything you have.”

“You want it?”

“I want it.”

“You want this cum, Y/N?”

“Yes, fill me up, mark this pussy up!”

Chris squeezed your hip and ass, laughed forward once, then twice and on the third thrust you fell apart at the same time he did. The gush of him filling you up was so overwhelming that your body gave out. Chris’ quick thinking brought you back onto the counter just in time. He flicked his hips forward with baby thrusts still reveling in his release. You didn’t know how long you stayed there but you knew everything was different now. Slowly you began laughing. Chris weakly popped his head up, resting his chin between the swells of your breasts. As you laughed they softly slapped against his face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing—just—just thinking.”

“What?”

He raised up but not by much, just enough to take your nipple into his mouth and suck, bringing fire right back to your flesh.

“This is what I’ve been missing out on all this time.”

You felt him lurch inside of you beginning to harden again if he had even ever softened.

“Not satisfied?”

You scoffed then shook your head. Chris raised his brow.

“I’ve always been a greedy woman—and this pussy--,” you squeezed him for emphasis.

“Is even greedier.”

A slow smile spread his lips. “Greedy girls get fucked within an inch of their life.”

“I’m counting on it.”

You at up and crashed your lips to his. Chris lifted you holding you in the air with just the tip of his intrusion filling you as your lips and tongues danced together. Your eye caught the time and you smiled on his mouth.

“Happy birthday old man.”

He groaned then dropped you down onto his cock full force. You screeched as he filled you completely with the brutal help of gravity.

“Prime of my life. I hope you know that you will get no sleep tonight.”

You smiled.

“The lord did say there is no rest for the wicked.”

You kissed again and he carried you through your apartment. Sleep was the last thing you wanted tonight.

The absolute last thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#all grown up now one shot #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans one shot #chris evans birthday #black fanfiction #chris evans au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader

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lgg5989 · 1 year

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One beer universe request the dagger squad gets invited to bob n readers hometown for a holiday and they meet the rest of bobs family and get to know the shy WSO more from stories and pictures from his childhood and teenage years.

OMG dear, I am sorry this took so long! I think I finally got it to a place I like it though. :D

I hope you enjoy and to everyone in the US have a great and safe Thanksgiving!!

Bob was nervous to say the least. The team hadn’t been approved leave over Thanksgiving, and many of their families couldn’t travel to San Diego because of other commitments or a lack of funds to get there. So, being the small town boy he was, Bob invited them all over for a meal.

You had been running around the house like crazy, picking up clothes, organizing the bookshelves, and cooking the meal. He had been tasked with keeping Eddie and Katie occupied so that they couldn’t destroy the clean home you had created.

While the other families couldn’t join their aviator for the holiday, Bob’s dad had booked his ticket in advance, having made the plans to join them for Thanksgiving a few months prior. While you put the finishing touches on the house and meal, he took the kids to the airport to pick up one Arthur Floyd.

Bob stood with Katie on his shoulders and Eddie’s hand in his at the baggage claim. His head swiveled to watch for his father, a man who was tall and thin like himself, the same gold framed glasses he had kept from the seventies, and his usual tan jacket a staple for the aging Floyd.

At the same time he heard someone call out, “Bobby,” Eddie’s hand was pulled from Bob’s and there was a cry of, “Pops!”

Bob watched on with a smile on his face as Eddie raced towards his dad, the older man picked him up in a tight hug.

“Edward-o, my boy, how are you?” he asked, one arm holding Eddie against his side and the other pulling a suitcase along behind him. With Eddie now occupied with another adult, Bob reached up and took Katie down from his shoulders, she was missing her nap and promptly tucked her face into his neck, her little eyes fluttering closed.

“We’ll be in the car soon baby girl,” Bob whispered to her, rubbing her back with the hand not holding her to him.

When his dad made it to him, he pulled Bob into a hug, “Hey pops,” Bob greeted, trying to keep from jostling Katie too much.

“Hey Bobby,�� his dad answered, “How’s Y/n?”

“Good, she’s at the house. We invited the team over tonight, since they couldn’t go home,” he explained as he took the handle of his dad’s suitcase, rolling it towards the loading zone where he parked the car.

The ride home was uneventful, the two men talked quietly, catching up while Eddie and Katie slept. When they got to the house, Bob was surprised to find that there were already a few cars parked on one side of his driveway.

When they came inside, they found Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and Hangman, some seated and some standing in the kitchen, talking with you as you finished cooking a few dishes. As they entered the living room, stripping off their jackets, the group turned to see the newcomers.

“Hey guys, this is my dad, Arthur or Arty for short,” Bob introduced, “Dad, this is Coyote, Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy, and Hangman.”

“Good to meet you all,” Arty said, rubbing his hands together, “I’m going to bet that those aren’t your Christian names.”

Everyone let out a laugh, “No definitely not,” Phoenix said, extending her hand to the older man, she smiled, “I’m Natasha.”

“Ah you’re Bobby’s pilot then!” he said, “So good to finally meet you dear.”

“Thank you sir,” she said, a wide smile coming over her face.

“Oh don’t bother with the sirs, I believe all of you outrank me, if anything I should be calling you ma’am,” Arty said before making his way into the kitchen and pulling you into a tight hug.

“Hi Arty, I’m so glad that you could make it,” You greeted him, sinking into the warm embrace of your father-in-law.

“You look good dear. I’m just sorry your momma still hasn’t come around,” he said quietly into your ear.

You gave him a sad smile, “That’s alright, just as long as you promise to come for Christmas.”

“Like you could keep me from my grandbabies!” he said playfully as Eddie appeared at his side.

You let out a laugh, “I would never even dream of it!”

From your spot in the kitchen, you listened as the pilots talked to Arty. The man was a Navy veteran, which they had all picked up on. He had been drafted into Vietnam at only twenty-one. They might all outrank him, but they listened aptly to his stories. Eddie was content to sit on his pop’s lap, a toy jet in his hand.

As Arty started to delve into more personal stories, you felt Bob come up behind you, “Need any help honey?”

“No, I’m all good,” you said, smiling as Arty began to regale the group with stories of Bob’s childhood. He told them about the time Bob had defended a little girl from bullies when he was eight, how he had won the science fair when he was ten, and how at fifteen, he had been made kicker of the varsity football team. You knew without a doubt that Bob was his father’s pride and joy. With the pair of them losing his mother so early in his life, all they had was each other.

“I swear, I had never been more proud than to see him out on that field,” Arty said, “Until he joined the Navy of course.”

At that moment, the timer you had set on your phone went off. You turned the blaring sound off before pulling open the oven and checking the temperature of the turkey. It was just at 165°F, perfectly cooked. Slipping on your oven mitts, you pulled it out of the hot oven and set it on top of the stove.

Surveying your kitchen, you ensured that every dish was accounted for, before turning back to the living room, which was now alive with more chatter.

“Alright y’all, dinner’s ready!” you called, moving aside as the group of aviators got quiet and began to file into the small kitchen. Everyone stopped, turning to look at you.

“What?” you asked, confused as to why they were all looking at you, “Do I have something on my face?”

Phoenix shook her head, “No, you just cooked us this delicious meal, you deserve to go through the line first.”

You stood still, watching as she offered the plate she held in her hand out to you, “Oh, that’s not necessary. You all are guests here, I can wait. Besides I need to get the kids’ plates and-”

Suddenly, there were a pair of hands wrapping around your waist, “I’ll get it honey,” Bob said, his voice low in your ear, “Get a plate, enjoy our company.” With that, he placed a kiss just below your ear.

You shuffled forwards, grabbing a plate and filling it, watching as the rest of the pilots, followed up by Bob and Arty did the same. The dining table you had was not large enough for everyone, so you all found seats through the house, some positioned themselves at the kitchen table, coffee table, while others were just eating with the plate on their lap.

Eddie climbed up into the empty seat next to you, Arty setting a plate down in front of him, “Be good for your momma buddy, I’m going to go get some food too,” he said before giving you a pat on the shoulder and making his way back to the kitchen.

Once dinner had been eaten, and the pilots had insisted on cleaning up, you were changing Katie into some clean clothes when you heard Arty say, “Oh, I love this one!”

Glancing over, you noticed that he was pulling a thick, leather bound book off the shelf, opening it to the first page. You recognized it immediately, and smiled widely at the book.

Arty cracked it open while he took a seat on the couch. The rest of the aviators slowly joined him once their duty in the kitchen was done. He began telling more stories of Bob, showing them all of his baby pictures, the sports he played, the last photo they had as a family, the first prom Bob took you to, the photo of him walking across the stage at his high school graduation, one of Eddie’s first ultrasound print out, and one from the day you eloped.

Everyone’s faces changed with each story, but it made your heart warm that Bob’s coworkers were getting a better understanding of him little by little.You knew that your husband wasn’t the loudest person anywhere you went, and he often kept his personal life to himself.

By the time you were ready to serve dessert, Bob’s ears were pink from the attention being on him, deciding it was time to step in before Arty talked about Bob all night, you stepped back into the living room.

“Dessert’s in the kitchen when y’all want it!” you said, a smile on your face, “Does anyone want me to turn on the game?”

“Could you turn on the Cowboys game?” Jake asked, causing the rest of the group to let out a collective groan, Rooster’s louder than the rest.

You rolled your eyes at their antics before picking up the TV remote and putting the game on. This spawned more stories from Arty about Bob’s high school position and how he had been, sadly, cut from the Navy team during his time at the Academy.

With that comment, Javy turned to Bob, “I didn’t know you played for the Navy football team.”

Bob nodded, sipping his beer, “Yeah, just for a bit, I had to commit to my family,” he said, a smile on his face, “It’s hard to do that when you’re on the road all the time.”

It was at that moment that the Cowboys scored a touchdown, and Jake, having been half listening to the conversation, launched himself off the couch and cheered loudly. Payback, who had nodded off in the corner of the sectional, jerked awake at the other man’s yelling and shot him a glare, you and Phoenix shared a look before both bursting out into laughter at the interaction.

As the squadron started to trickle out of your house, you sent them all off with leftover plates in hand. Once everyone left for the night, save Arty, who was staying in the guest room, you made your way into the bedroom.

You were rubbing in your face lotion, leaning close to see yourself in the mirror. Bob let out a laugh when he stuck his head into the bathroom and you jumped when he appeared in the mirror.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

You gave him a wide smile, “Hello love.”

Bob came up behind you, his hands wrapping around your waist to hold you to him, “You don’t think the guys will see me differently do you?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused as to what they would see different about your Bobby.

He snuggled his face into the crook of your neck before speaking quietly, “Just about the pictures Dad showed them.”

“No honey, I think if anything, they understand why you are the quiet wallflower I love,” you reassured him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

You felt more than saw him smile into your neck, “Are you ready for bed?” he asked.

“I think so, my feet are killing me,” you answered in an overexaggerated voice, slouching your shoulders to really get the point across.

Bob laughed, his face still pressed tightly against you, “You are so dramatic.”

You hummed, “But that’s why you love me.”

As you both climbed into bed, settling beneath the covers, you laid your head on Bob’s chest, listening to his deep breathing. Just as sleep started to take you, you heard him whisper, “Thank you, for everything you do.”

The last thing you remembered as the world faded into peaceful dreams was mumbling out a quiet, “I love you.”

#bob x reader #bob floyd x reader #bob top gun #top gun bob #bob floyd #bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

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veryveryverytemporarily · 3 months

Text

So I wrote this ficlet for Christmas then didn't post it because I wanted to add to it, but then the converstaion with Aaron about ghosts made me realize I'd written the same idea haha. So here it is anyway...

‘Oh, Aaron, I was hoping I’d see you. Can I have a word? Not here, outside?’

There was something about her eyes, so he’d put back the mince pies he’d been going to buy and followed her into the night.

She’d kept walking until she was out of earshot of customers choosing vegetables, and then she’d turned and looked up at him, face lit by sparkling angels high above them on Main Street.

‘It’s about Christmas.’

‘Did my Mum put you up to this? I’m not joining her for the Dingle dinner this year, I’ve told her that.’

‘No, not your Mum. This is about my Christmas, well, mine, and yours, too.’

She was searching his face, and something about her expression made him suddenly breathless. He took a step backwards, buried his hands in his pockets.

‘So, wh…what then…is it that you want me to babysit Harry? Is it that? ‘Cos you know I will...,’ he could hear a tremor in his voice.

‘No, Aaron, not that.’

Her eyes were like saucers looking back at him and he felt his strength seeping into the night.

‘There’s no easy way of telling you this…,’ she said.

‘Telling me what?’

She reached up and held his sleeve, he could feel his heart blundering around in his chest even before she spoke. Hadn’t he had enough knocks?

But he knew what she was going to say, and when she did speak, her words were just an echo, as if time had splintered and sent him ahead so he opened his mouth…

‘It’s Robert,’ they both spoke in unison.

‘…isn’t it?’ he added weakly, looking down at the glistening black surface of the road where he could see stars reflected.

‘Yes,’ Vic was still holding his sleeve, anchoring him. ‘Robert’s coming home. He’s been released.’

He stood at the top of the drive going down to the Mill. Watching.

He saw his Mum outside wearing dark glasses against the afternoon winter sunshine and a warmer round her wrists. Paddy, calling out to her, wrapped in a red scarf, held Evie’s hand as they made their way over towards the entrance of the Woolpack.

Bundled up in a kid’s fur coat, Evie saw him from the distance, smiled, and waved.

He waved back, then when Chas turned in his direction, he looked away. He had no space in his head for the aggro. Not today.

So, instead he returned to watching the turning at the top of the street. Watching for a taxi.

‘I’ve got a return flight booked to Southampton to bring him back. He said he’d manage on his own, but he’ll be disorientated in the big wide world and I want to make sure he gets here alright,’ Vic had said. ‘I don’t even know how much cash they give them, the discharge grant or something, I read about it on the families forum.’

‘Seventy-six pounds,’ Aaron had stated.

‘And then what? Left to fend for yourself on the street if you haven’t got family?’ Vic observed darkly.

‘Well luckily he’s got you,’ Aaron had answered, swallowing. What he’d wanted to hear her say was ‘And you.’ But he wasn’t Robert’s family anymore, was he? What would Robert want him to be?

His stomach felt hollow. What if Robert didn’t want him around at all?

‘Wendy’s going to have Harry until I’m back,’ Vic went on.

‘Does she know?’

Victoria shook her head with a frown as she focused on extracting a blue shirt from its wrapping, and changed the subject.

‘I got him this, and those boxers, and socks,’ she gestured with her chin, ‘and that sweater and these jeans, do you think they’ll be alright?’

She held the jeans up.

Aaron blinked and nodded.

The wool sweater Vic had got for him was midnight blue. He’d reached out when her back was turned and touched the cuff of it.

Darkness dropped swiftly. In his head, the street was haunted.

Like an ancient battle ground, wraiths, and phantoms: In the haze beneath the fur tree with its fairy lights, Aaron could see them.

Finn for one, hair combed and neatly dressed with his cupid’s bow pout, popping over to the Wooly for a pint of Christmas sherry.

Jackson waiting by the bus stop, raising a can of beer to his mouth, still asking the eternal question - Did you love me?

And there was Gerry; goofing about, trailing along behind him as he went out running - but no, he mustn’t think of Gerry because that would make him think of Liv. And thinking of Liv was impossible.

He straightened his back.

A way behind him a door opened and lit the drive so he could see his shadow on the sparkly tarmac appear and disappear again. He heard footsteps and boyish voices, and then Suni and Nicky passed him with a courteous but cautious evening, and close behind them Ethan, who stopped, eyelashes fluttering over shining cheeks.

He had to admit that he’d been flirting. Now he felt incredulous. One day he’d apologize, but not tonight.

Ethan was talking but he’d had to say pardon because he hadn’t been listening.

‘It’s Suni’s first venture out since, well, you know. We’re taking him for a pint; do you want to join us?’

‘No,’ Aaron answered abruptly, and then added, ‘Thanks but, no, anyway.’

‘Oh, well, have a good night then,’ Ethan replied.

Aaron hardly registered his confused frown as he walked on. None of it mattered, he was deleting his recent past, like scrubbing out lines in a badly written text.

He was looking to his real past; all the memories; a heady treasure trove full to overflowing, lost but maybe if wishes could come true, he might hunt it out and unlock it all over again - and x marking the spot was a small cottage on Main Street.

As if on cue the full beam of headlights rounded the corner and a taxi crawled into the street and slowed to a stop, engine turning.

He reeled forward, his heart erratic.

But then Suni, Nicky and Ethan appeared again and he realized his mistake.

He stroked a hand down his face and tried to calm his breathing as the taxi reversed accompanied by the sound of receding laughter, and left him to the silence and the ghosts.

And then in his pocket his phone buzzed. Vic leaving a text.

I thought you’d be here. We’ve been back ages.

He’d been trying on the clothes and his long pale fingers were pulling down the hem of the sweater over his midriff, when Aaron stepped in over the threshold.

His skin was ghostly white, his cheeks hallow. His hair was long and he’d got some sort of beard going on. For a moment it was hard to reconcile this man with the image he’d been carrying round in his head of the husband he’d lost.

But his eyes; grey -green like the sea at Filey on a blustery spring day, staring back at him like he would sweep away all his defenses, his eyes were all Robert.

And it took all his strength not to reach out and hold him, like a possession: His possession. His man; his only man, finally here in front of him.

#my writing #robron

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midnghtprentiss · 11 months

Text

tenesse whiskey - spencer reid

a/n: this is my first spencer reid fic! i hope you all like it (sorry for the mistakes, emglish isn't my first language

spencer reid x fem!readed

you took a whole look at your relationship with spence since day one and everything you go through (based on tenesse whiskey by chris stapleton)

warnings: none only fluffy!

You first met Spencer because of your old friend Emily. You two met each other at an event the university you teach promoted and the FBI was invited, she was the one who represents the BAU. After that you became really close friends. And one day she invited you to a dinner at her place.

In this dinner she introduced you to Spencer. The two of you clicked right away. You were so intrigued by his mind and he was so overwhelmed by your personality that it was the perfect match. He was going back to teach in the same university as you which means you were going to see each other frequently.

It took Spencer three days to show up at your office with coffee and the most beautiful smile you've ever seen. You heard the rumors about him being the new hot professor on campus and you decided to keep it cool for a while.

"I heard you have classes until seven, do you want to have dinner?" You remember him asking a little nervously.

"Sure, I would love to! You can wait for me here if you want to." He nods and you smile.

He never waited for you in your office. He was waiting for you in your class. He watched the whole thing. He was absolutely enchanted on how you speak, look and behave in front of that whole class, explaining something so hard like it was nothing. After this day he tried to watch all of the classes he could, he even asked questions out of curiosity.

You loved every interaction you had since day one. The way he was interested in every detail of your life it was the fuel of something. You have dated before but neither of those men were interested to know you that much.

Spencer realized he was in love on a random night where he was in your apartment for a 'work date'. Both of you were always together, of course you hooked up a few times but never serious, only causal.You were reading a paper and the way your hair was falling on your shoulder, your lips curled and you were wearing sweatpants with his plath shirt. So relaxed next to him almost like it was a natural thing between you.

"You're staring, Spence." You looked at him with a smirk.

"I think you are the most beautiful woman in the world." His words hit you harder and you covered your face. "Seriously, you can make a whole room shine just with your smile. I am so in love with you."

You laugh at his confession and he didn't even get mad. He knew you were trying to find the words.

"Well, it's your lucky day because I'm kinda in love too. Take it or leave it."

It took him more than three years, five months, seventy days and sixteen hours to propose to you. His hands were shaking so much and he was afraid you would tell him no — like that was even an option. He planned a whole speech but it was all gone when he saw you in the backyard of your new home, with a glass of wine and his favorite book. He didn't say a word. Which is unusual because he always has something to say. He gets down on one knee and shows you the ring.

"Spencer, don't fucking play with me right now." Your voice was so shaky when you noticed what that meant.

"I'm so serious every time I say you are the love of my life. I want to spend the rest of my days with you, I don't care what we are up to for the future, just know that if you are there with me nothing is impossible. I want to give you love, peace, children. You brought me back to life, you rescued me from reaching the rock bottom. Everyday is a new blank page of a book and writing on those pages with you is the privilege of my existence. So, will you marry me?"

In the end of his words you were sobbing so loud that it took you five minutes to answer what he already knew.

"I do! Oh my god, yes!" You kissed him, throwing yourself at the man.

You got married next weekend in your house. The laugh filling the air, your closest friends were there to cheer you up. Rossi officiated the wedding and he was so happy doing it. Everything was perfect the way you dreamed.

Two years after that you were having the extra bedroom turning into a nursery. Your pregnancy was a little unexpected - from you. Reid wasn't surprised at all. He noticed how tired and sleepy you were, you were eating strange things and you were nauseous in the same way JJ was when she was pregnant.

Now you are lying on the couch, swollen belly watching your favorite movies while your husband works in the kitchen just to keep an eye on you. You were seven and a half months, you were feeling bigger than ever but every time you complained Spencer just shysh you.

"Oh for fucks sake." You paused your movie and made your way to the bathroom again. It was the sixth time in less than an hour.

"Remind you to never let you put a baby on me again." You swear at him and he laughs loudly.

"Sorry, my bad." He was so madly hypnotized by you and the way you glow.

You made your way to the kitchen to make a little snack for the next few minutes until you got up again.

"Like you really believe you're sorry." Your marvelous smirk made him smile even more. You made your way to him, passing your arms around his shoulder. He gently rubs the hands in your belly.

"You know you're giving mommy a hard time?" You love when he speaks to the baby. He reads in a book that if the parents keep talking to the baby in the belly it is so much easier to keep them calm after birth. You can't count the nights when you woke up.to him reading and having actual talks with your baby. "At least she's still safe here."

He was mesmerized by how little Amelia kicked when both spoke to her. "If I peed my pants again I'll let you sleep on the couch." You teased him.

"You can't leave the bed without my help. Which means you can't sleep without me." He was so right, you just rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek before walking towards the couch.

That was the life you always wanted. With the man of your dreams and the sweet taste of happiness just like a strawberry wine.

#spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x bau!secret wife #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff

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maidragoste · 5 months

Text

Promises

THG AU

Victor!Aegon II Targaryen x Victor!Reader

Summary: President Snow announces that in the next Quarter Quell, the tributes will be reaped from among the victors.

Logically I should have posted the Jace games first but it's been a while since I posted anything about Aegon and I was excited haha

Edit: The first chapter of the Jace games is now available.

Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Please, if you enjoyed this reading, let me know in the comments or in my inbox, that always motivates me to continue writing 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

You were in the house of Viserys Targaryen like the rest of the victors from your district. Of course, you had to drag Aegon's drunk ass out of his house and bring him here first. Everyone was waiting for the broadcast about the seventy-five Hunger Games. All the Hunger Games were bloody but this year was the third quarter quell and in each quarter quell they modified the rules with the purpose of making the games even more brutal and more difficult to win. In the last quarter quell instead of sending two tributes per district they sent four so you couldn't even imagine what they planned to do now.

You locked eyes with Rhaenyra as you heard her father laugh at his own joke. She, like you, seemed to be anxious about the announcement because she kept spinning her rings.

“That's enough,” you said when you heard Alicent, Aegon's mother and Viserys' wife, sigh for the fifth time when she saw that her son wouldn't stop drinking. You tried to take the bottle from him but he slapped you and looked at you annoyed. Rhaenyra was ready to intervene but you waved her hand at her telling her you could handle it. “At least you can share a little,” you complained.

Aegon looked at you suspiciously. It wouldn't be the first time that you asked him to share his alcohol with you and then didn't return the bottle or in any case threw away all its contents. He groaned as he watched you pout before handing you the bottle. You smiled at him making a small smile appear on his face. Even so, he watched you carefully as you drank his whiskey, when he thought it was enough he abruptly took the bottle from you, causing the liquid to drip onto your chin. He laughed at your annoyed look as you wiped yourself with your hand. Rhaenyra shook her head at their foolishness.

President Snow finally appeared on the screen. Aegon's laughter stopped as did the conversation between Daemon, Viserys, and Harrold. At first, there was nothing out of the ordinary, as every year he talked about the uprising against the Capitol and how significant the games were until…

"On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol"You didn't know why but you couldn't help but get tense, you felt your stomach drop, you tried to calm by telling yourself that surely it was just the drink you had that was bad for you and you leaned back from the couch, listening even more attentively to the speech. "the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

You heard Alicent's screams. You watched as Rhaenyra got up from the couch and left the house. You flinched at the sound of breaking glass. The president's voice was no longer heard and the smell of whiskey filled the place. Aegon was no longer next to you, he found himself banging his head against the wall as he screamed. You felt like your heart was going a mile a second. You had a lump in your throat and your chest hurt and all you wanted to do was join in the screaming and smash things but that wouldn't help. Aegon needed you, Aemond and Daeron were busy trying to calm their mother down while Viserys carried a frightened Helaena to her room and Harrold along with Willis was trying to stop Daemon from destroying the kitchen as he had done with the vases in the living room.

You stood up and didn't bother to dodge the glass as you walked towards the youngest male victor in your district. You tugged at the back of his shirt, managing to move him away from the wall for a brief moment.

“Aegon! Stop” you shouted in a broken voice as you saw her hit herself again.

Hearing your voice like that Aegon turned to see you. There was now a bloody gash on his forehead and his eyes were manic. For a brief moment you thought he would attack you but all he did was pull your body towards his and entice you into a tight hug.

“We can't go back. I can’t go back” You felt his body shake as he sobbed and your heart broke for him. You knew Aegon's head couldn't handle surviving another arena, he spends all his time drinking to stay groggy and avoid thinking about all the people he killed. Even most of the time he only managed to fall asleep after having been drinking non-stop. "I can not do it"

“You won't,” you promised, caressing his cheeks, your head already hatching a plan. District One has five living male victors: Viserys, Daemon, Aegon, Willis Fell, and Harrold Westerling. There were chances that Aegon's name wouldn't come up in the reaping but if it did then Daemon could offer himself as a tribute. He would do it if you volunteered in Rhaenyra's place and if you promised to help him keep his girlfriend from District Four alive.

“I can't lose you,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. Maybe he was lucky and his name didn't come up in the reaping but you had less chance. You and Rhaenyra were the only living victors in the district. If your name came up he knew his sister wouldn't show up as a tribute. She may not depend on being drunk to keep her calm but he had witnessed how she would sometimes wake up screaming and the dark circles under her eyes were evidence that she could sometimes go days without sleep.

And those words ended up destroying you. You started crying with him. You wanted to be strong but you couldn't. You didn't want to go back to the arena either, you were supposed to be free after winning the games, and you didn't want to kill again, much less people you know. You may not be friends with every victor but during these years as a mentor, you had at least spoken once with each one.

Your stomach twisted as you thought that maybe it was one of your friends who would finish you off. Would they be merciful and give you a not-so-painful death? You didn't believe it because you knew that the people in the Capitol liked the show, they got bored with a simple death, and they wanted to see blood. So if Arryk, Tyland Johanna, and Sabitha wanted to live they would have to put on a show to gain sponsors.

Perhaps the easiest thing would be to commit suicide in the games, you would bring dishonor to your district—you wouldn't be the first, people still didn't see Viserys as a true victor after having betrayed his cousin by killing her while she slept—but at least you wouldn't have to kill anyone. The president couldn't punish you, he had already taken away your loved ones after you refused to prostitute yourself and killed the one who was supposed to be your biggest sponsor, he had only wanted you to come out alive so he could obtain your body.

You could die by eating some poisonous bug, plant, or fruit like Jacaerys Strong and her district mate had tried to do at the last minute. Supposedly they had done it because they were in love and didn't dare to be in a world without each other but you were sure it was an act. You could come to believe that the girl is in love but the boy does not seem natural with every display of affection in public.

“It's not fair,” you whispered in disbelief when you realized that they were all being punished because of the last victors. They had done their act of rebellion by threatening to eat poisonous berries so that there would be no winner of the games after announcing that the rule that there could be two winners if they were part of the same district was revoked. “It's not fair,” you moved your hands away from Aegon's face for fear that in your state of fury, you might end up scratching him. “I want them dead.”

You were too deep in your head to notice Aegon looking at you in dismay. Tears didn't stop flowing from your eyes but there was no longer fear in them but fury and determination. You have the same look you had during your Hunger Games.

You may die in these hunger games but at least before you leave you would make sure to make the so-called lovers of District Twelve pay for ruining what little peace you and Aegon had. You would make them wish they had died in their games.

These days it seemed like all you felt was anger. Angry at President Snow, at the Capitol, at Jacaerys Strong, and the girl from Twelve. But right now the one you were angry at was Aegon. The day after the announcement about vassalage was made, all the victors agreed that they would train together and get in shape for these games. The only one who had continued training all these years was Daemon, so the rest had a lot to catch up on, especially Viserys and Harrold—because of their age—and Aegon—because of his alcoholism—so when it was about to be a week and the idiot still didn't leave his house, you got angry.

You entered his house with the key he gave you a year ago. You found him sleeping on the couch with several bottles, some empty and others still unopened, on his table. You bit the inside of your cheek to avoid waking him up by screaming. The best thing would be to take advantage of the fact that he was asleep to get rid of any alcohol that was in the house. You started by inspecting the entire house and ended up throwing the contents of two flasks that were in his bathroom, five bottles of whiskey that you found in his room, and five bottles of vodka in his kitchen, down the drain.

When Aegon woke up he found you putting the bottles that were on his table into a garbage bag. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and once his vision fully focused he slowly stood up. He walked towards you and he hugged you from behind. Feeling your body he tensed he left a kiss on the back of your neck hoping you would relax but instead, he earned a slap on his hands that were on your waist. The blonde grumbled and walked away from you, finally realizing your bad mood.

“Go take a bath” you ordered without looking at him and continuing with your cleaning task.

Aegon listened to you, of course, he left before grumbling, revealing his displeasure at your cold tone towards him, hoping that once he was clean you would let him hug you and kiss you. At the thought of having your sweet lips, he soon took a quick shower and didn't even bother to dry his hair well before coming down to meet you in the kitchen. I smile at you when I see that you have made him eggs and toasted him bread. Before eating he wanted to look for a bottle of vodka to accompany the meal but he found his shelf empty.

“No more alcohol,” you declared, making the blonde turn to look at you with a frown. “Don't even try, I got rid of everything” you said when you saw him opening another shelf.

“You have no right!” He reproached you, pointing his finger as he walked towards you. You didn't flinch at his angry look nor did you try to escape when he placed both of his hands on the table, leaving you caged between his body and the table.

“You told me you couldn't lose me” The man looked at you confused without understanding what this had to do with you taking away his alcohol “So I'm training and I'm trying hard for these games for you” You felt heat on your face because of what you were about to say, you weren't used to being so open with your feelings. “I want you to do the same for me. I want you to train with me and the rest of the victors. I want you to promise me that you will give everything you have to win these games because I can't lose you either, I couldn't bear to live without you” Your voice broke at the end and you closed your eyes.

You needed Aegon to promise you so you could be a little calmer, you had already spoken with Daemon and he accepted your deal but you were still afraid that he would betray you at the last minute, you needed to know that Aegon would not give up if he went to the arena.

Feeling his chest warm at your words Aegon grabbed you by the waist to bring you even closer to him and captured his lips with yours. It didn't take long for you to move your lips in tandem with him. While he got drunk with the sweetness of your lips and melted before your touch, he couldn't help but think that this was the way he wanted to spend his last days, by your side. He also wanted to hit his past self for not taking advantage of every moment he had with you. If only he had made the effort to be a decent man and become someone worthy of you he would have told you a long time ago that he loves you. But he didn't and he didn't want to tie you down to spending the rest of your life with a useless drunk so he kept his feelings to himself and settled for those shared nights.

A growl left his lips as you broke the kiss. He tried to kiss you again but you moved your face making him pout.

"Please, Aegon. I need you to train. I need you to try and fight for us."

He hated that look in your eyes. He could see the fear and sadness in them. And knowing that he was one of the reasons you were unhappy made him feel a pit in his stomach. He didn't like the idea of having to fight Daemon and obey his orders, but he would do it for you.

"I will do it, I promise"

Maybe later when he is crying and with sore muscles he would regret it but seeing how your eyes lit up and the bright smile you gave him he didn't believe that would happen.

"I love you" he finally confessed his feelings and smiled when he saw the surprise in your eyes "I love you. I love you. I love you" he repeated while he spread kisses all over your face.

A mixture of laughter and sobs escaped your lips. You were happy to know that he also felt the same as you, you had long wanted to hear those words, but your heart ached knowing that you would not be able to spend the rest of your life at Aegon's side. It was a bittersweet feeling.

"I love you too," you declared through tears.

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an-unknown-writers-world · 1 year

Text

Mr. Christmas

Warnings: None really – cheesy

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x wife!Reader

Characters: Brief mentions of Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, Penny Benjamin

Word Count: 1,125

A/N: Just something super cheesy steaming from the Brett Eldredge song Mr. Christmas – honestly I’ve just been struggling to get into holiday spirit myself. Usually a little Brett Eldredge is prefect for getting my in the spirit and that’s just not doing it this year.

Text me when you pull in, please. I have a surprise for you. That was the message you received from your husband when you told him you were headed home.

He had been acting weird since Thanksgiving, and just when you thought he couldn’t get any weirder, he had practically begged you to spend the day with your uncle Pete. You were overdue for a bonding day, so you didn’t object.

The situation got even stranger when you overheard him making arrangements with Natasha and Bradley to meet at the house when you were gone. Part of you wanted to be worried. But Jake had never given you a reason to question your relationship or him, so you wouldn’t do him or yourself the disservice of not trusting him. But that certainly didn’t reduce your anxiety as you pulled into your driveway.

You didn’t want to wait for a response, so you picked up your phone to call him instead of texting.

“Babe, is everything alright?” Jake answered the phone, worry unmistakable in his tone.

“I’m fine, just sitting in the driveway,” you replied, turning off your car.

“Shit, did I miss your text?”

“No, l didn’t want to wait any longer to hear your voice.”

He chuckled, “flattery will get you nowhere, Mrs. Seresin.”

You hummed happily, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being called that”

“I’ll be right out, Mrs. Seresin.” you could hear the smile in his voice.

Your relationship was controversial in your family and group of friends. You had been together for over a year but married after just ten months of dating. You and Jake felt it was right, but everyone else was hesitant that you were rushing into something that neither of you understood.

This was your first holiday season as a married couple, and it was nothing like you had expected. You went from living in a state with four seasons to San Diego, which only had one. Seventy degrees didn’t really scream Christmas season to you. Leaving your usual holiday cheer virtually nonexistent. You cohosted Thanksgiving with Penny and thought that it would never end when usually that is something you would have lived for. One night at The Hard Deck, your uncle Pete asked when you were going to start decorating for your favorite holiday. When you responded with a shrug and a simple comment about not feeling up for it, Jake knew he had to do something to cheer you up.

Turning off your car, you were unplugging your phone and tossing it into your purse when your car door opened. Jake was dressed in your favorite gray sweatpants and a Hard Deck t-shirt, with a Santa hat dawning his head.

“Hey baby,” He smiled, stretching out his hand. “Did you have a good day with Mave?”

You took his hand, climbing out of the car. “I did. We went to the beach for a while, and Penny joined us for dinner. It was good.” You reached on your tiptoes and kissed him. “Thank you for insisting I go.”

“I’m glad you had a good day.” He closed the car door. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Jake,” you practically whined.

“I know, I know, you hate surprises. But I think you’ll like this one.” He grinned.

You stared up at him, trying to be angry or annoyed, but you weren’t. As much as you hate being surprised, Jake’s surprises tend to be your favorite moments.

“Did you go through the Christmas boxes in the garage?” You asked, flicking the ball of the Santa hat.

Jake laughed, “No, this was Rooster’s doing.”

You found yourself skeptical as you approached the walk-up to the door.

“Do you trust me?” Jake asked, pulling you to a stop.

“With my life.” You replied without hesitation.

“You have two choices- I can blindfold you, or you can let me carry you into the house.”

“Um, what?” You exclaimed, confused.

“You said you trusted me.”

You laughed, “that was before you gave me two creepy serial killer options.”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Fine, fine.” You raised your hands, laughing. “Blindfold.”

“Really?” He pouted. “Guess you’ll have to wait here while I find one.”

“If I only had one option, why did you give me two?”

“Well, I thought you’d only need the one.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling at your dork of a husband. “Fine, you can carry me.”

Jake picked you up bridal style and situated you in his arms. You kissed his cheek, just thankful to be so close to him. You knew he didn’t want you to peek at whatever he’d spent the day doing, so you buried your face in his neck, closing your eyes. Whatever it was, you knew he meant well. But that was the thing about your husband - he always has good intentions; he just might be terrible at showing that sometimes. Especially when it comes to his teammates.

He jostled you around as he navigated opening the door; you could hear soft Christmas music playing in the background. “I’m gonna put you down now. Open your eyes.”

You felt your feet hit the ground, Jake’s hands on your waist steadying you. Opening your eyes, you looked around the living room. A Christmas tree was tucked in the corner, beautifully lit with red and white balls. Green and red garland lined the banister of the stairs and the arch between the living room and kitchen. Stockings hung over the fireplace with your names written across them.

“Jake,” You beamed, “You did all of this?”

“I had help.”

“Nat and Bradley?”

He chuckled.

“You didn’t hide that part very well.” You turned, looking up at him.

“I didn’t care about that part. I just wanted to do something to cheer you up.”

You leaned up on your tiptoes and kissed him chastely. “Mission accomplished.”

The song faded into a new one, one that you loved. That’s when you realized that he had set up your vinyl record player and had your favorite Christmas album playing.

“Inspiration?” You asked, pointing to the vinyl player.

“Babe, you played this song on repeat last year.” Jake laughed, pulling you closer. “I think it still plays in my sleep.”

“I have zero regrets.”

“Considering how much you love all of this.” He pointed to the decorations and lights. “Not to mention how many times I listened to this man’s albums last year, I knew I needed to do something to help you get in the holiday mood. What does he say? Turn your heart to red and green instead of blue.”

You giggled, “Guess that makes you Mr. Christmas.”

“I’ll make your spirit bright,” He closed the distance between you, kissing you.

A/N: If you’ve made it this far - thank you so so so much for reading! My Masterlist can be found here. All work is also available on AO3

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hazel-of-sodor · 6 months

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Day 12-Of Reds and Ones

Traintober 2023