#chris evans au

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Lady Blue |

Falling in love with your best friend wasn't something you ever anticipated, you had a role to fulfil and your hand was sold. Yet your heart longed for him.

✧Pairing✧ Knight!Steve Rogers x Princess!Reader (Fem)

✧Warnings✧ Fluff, A Little Angst, Talks of Arranged marriage, John Walker (ew), Name Calling, like the teeniest bit of violence, Hurt, Brief mention of injury, Sweet ending

✧Word Count✧ 2.1k

✧Author Note ✧ I WROTE SOMETHING THAT ISNT SMUT!! — happy birthday Stevie Rogers 🥳

You don’t know when it happened, when that little crush became something more, when the hugs became intimate and the kisses were on the lips rather than on the cheeks.

Steve Rogers, your best friend. You’d been born beds apart, your mother a queen and her best friend a noblewoman. You weren’t sure if they planned it or it was fate but they both ended up with child and gave birth almost exactly on the same day.

Steve was headstrong, and a leader. He always made sure you were safe and protected, it was cute how doting he was because ‘he was older’. You were quick to comment how it was only by a few hours.

You were inseparable as kids, spending most of your time in the fields of blue flowers that decorated the walk to the large castle. It’s how you earned the name, Lady Blue - a flower crown of blue atop your head always.

Your infatuation grew for him as you aged into a teen, you weren’t around each other as much because of duties taking up most of your time but you remembered something about absence making the heart grow fonder and you could attest to that.

Steve was away most of the time on the other end of the city, training in the ring to become a knight, his dream. You were stuck in the palace, studying history and languages to be a great queen although you spent much of your time staring out of the window and imagining you and Steve doing the same things you did as kids. Living.

You lied.

You remember exactly when it happened.

Steve's graduation, he finally wore his purple cloak and had his royal etched sword around his hip. Drinks flowed left and right, the night filled with laughter and singing, all muffled behind the thick glass doors leading out to the courtyard where you and Steve sat watching the birds bathe in the fountain.

“How was it?” You asked, both hands soothing over his larger, calloused one, running over each scar and healing wound he donned.

He breathed out slowly, as though you were one of the small birds that he had to tiptoe around so he didn’t scare them off. He knew that you would never be scared of him but he couldn’t shake that feeling, you were so dainty beside him. To think that once upon a time you were a head taller than him.

“It was fine, made some friends” he nodded off to a pair of iron-clad men clinging to each other singing an old folk tune. “Sam and Bucky, they’re wild but they are good guys.”

The air around you thickened if it were possible, something going unsaid between you two, a rope pulled taut that threatened to snap. Steve’s eyes studied you, thoroughly enjoying the sight of you by his side. You looked beautiful, eyes twinkling in the moonlight as your eyes returned to the fountain, your hair shining. You had grown up and become such a beautiful soul that he knew you were.

“I missed you.”

“Hm?” You looked up at him, confusion and curiosity carved onto your features.

“I thought of you all the time being out there, when it got tough and I needed some of those princess bear hugs you gave me” You giggled at his words, bringing about his chuckle. Your knees knocked as you leaned closer, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I missed you too Stevie.”

“Princess” he murmured after a moment, taking a few deep breaths to quieten his pounding heart, although when he looked down at you it skipped beat after beat anyway.

“Ser Rogers” you teased with a cheeky smirk, the sparkle in your hues growing as you almost challenged him to speak. I dare you, your eyes cried out to him.

Steve was never one to back down from a dare.

His lips were on yours before you could even think, embracing yours in a way that left you dizzy before shocking you into action and kissing back with the same ferocity.

Snap, that rope between you broke.

After that night you’d both chosen to keep your love a secret, your father was strict and unforgiving, he would not stand for his daughter dating someone lower than a future heir despite it not being your choice. Even years later, both of you adults still sneaked around like you did when you were teens.

Your door shook with heavy knocks, Ser Barnes’ voice booming from the other end.

“My Princess, the King wishes to see you at once.”

You groaned and let your eyes fall shut again until soft kisses trailing up your shoulder and neck brought a smile upon your face.

“Come on Lady Blue, can’t disappoint Father now” he joked, deep voice raspy from sleep, vibrating against your ear.

Even after all these years each moment you spent with him felt like you were falling in love with him for the first time, diving straight off the deep end and into your sheets with him.

You stood, helping him into his gear so he could slink off and allow your handmaidens in to help you dress.

“I love you” he whispered into the top of your head, placing a chaste kiss there before tilting your chin up to slant his lips against your own. Despite the shortness of it, you were left breathless when he parted, turning on his heel professionally and making his exit.

A ball of dread settled in your stomach at the thought of today’s meeting with your father. For months now he’d been adamant that you were to be married by the end of the year and set about finding suitors, each time you rejected them he’d bring up another. But you loved Steve too much.

You knew it wouldn’t last forever, it couldn’t. You were noble, bound to marry a prince and join two kingdoms in matrimony. He was a knight, he swore an oath to protect you from harm, nothing more.

All of that knowledge didn’t help it hurt any less when you stepped into the throne room, your eyes landing on potentially the worst prince your father had brought to you yet.

The king from the neighbouring place and his son, John Walker. A self-proclaimed prophet that was bound to rule all over the land.

“You will marry Prince John Walker” your father announced, the smug sneer on the prince’s face had you wishing you’d had breakfast before coming here so you could have something in your stomach to throw up.

You were bound to marry a pompous, arrogant, narcissistic man and leave the man who’d loved you since day dot.

You wouldn’t stand for it.

“I will not marry John” You challenged, something you’d only done a handful of times in your life. Your father’s nostrils flared, his jaw clenching and eyes wild.

“Excuse me?”

“I will not marry him” You repeated.

“You don’t have a choice young lady” he rose from his throne, stomping down the steps until his face was in yours. Your legs wobbled as you tried to stand your ground against your father's presence.

“You will marry Prince Walker, you will join our kingdoms and you will bear his heirs, I am sick of you rejecting everyone I introduce you to so I made the decision myself.”

“I won’t” you yelled this time, hurt and angry bubbling into rage “because I love another.”

The words slipped out your mouth, your hand slapping around your face far too slow to catch them.

The room fell silent. Pin drop silent. Steve stood at the entrance of the hall, head hung low to hide the reddening of his face, his hands clamping into fists at his side.

“Who?” Your father’s hand clamped onto your chin, your jaw throbbing in pain at the hold.

“Ser Rogers” you hissed, falling into a pile of clothes and pain when your father’s hand let you go.

“You wench!” he spat in disgust.

You tried to argue, tried to plead with your father but he shrugged you off.

“Ser Barnes, take my daughter back to her room, I want some time with Ser Rogers. Alone.”

You didn’t struggle as Ser Barnes picked you up from the floor, hoisting you over his shoulder. You couldn’t even look at Steve when you walked by.

Ser Barnes set you down on your bed softly, patting the top of your head as you stared off into space, tears rolling down your cheeks. He left and came back with a small glass of water and a muffin which you refused to eat.

Once Bucky left you crawled up to the head of your bed, stuffing your face into your pillow and staining it with black from your mascara. Your door was on constant watch in case you got any big ideas. The Blue Daisy’s had bloomed but you couldn’t leave, you weren’t allowed to leave.

As day turned into night you shifted to look out at the setting sun. Your dinner lay untouched on your table, your focus set firmly on the world outside, families rushing to pack up their markets before the evening rain.

“Lady Blue” you recognised the voice.

“Bucky?”

“Can I come in?” He asked. You hummed your confirmation and the huge brunette slipped in.

“Steve—he’s being shipped off. Tonight.” He explained his stormy eyes on you, watching you process the information.

“So what? It’s not like I can stop it” You answered bitterly, a shell of the woman you usually were. There was no hint of cheer or teasing in your tone like there once was, it had all been left in that throne room.

You took note of his heavy sigh before he inched further into the room, Only then did you gaze up at him. In his hands was a set of clothes, the kind commoners wore along with a large black cloak and a purple velvet pouch.

“Do you love him?” He asked, eyes searching yours.

“More than anything” you replied without hesitation.

“Then we better move.”

“W-what do you mean?” You stood, head tilted and brows furrowed. You just barely caught the clothes that Bucky threw at you.

“His ship leaves in an hour, if you don’t hurry and get changed we’ll miss it”.

You could’ve kissed Bucky.

The shipyards reeked of fish and shit, but you couldn’t care about that. Not now. Hopping off of Bucky’s white steed you pat its neck before looking up at him.

“Thank you, Buck, I don’t know how I can repay you.”

He smiled, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles.

“You can get on that ship and live your life Lady Blue. I’ll see you soon” he flashed you one of his pearly white smiles and turned the horse, setting off the way he’d come.

You darted onto the ship, eyes scanning the faces of workers and guests until they fell on the man that you were doing all of this for. Any doubt that boiled in your stomach melted away leaving only one thing remaining, that deep love that Steve gave you. He didn’t turn until you were standing in front of him.

“Princess?” his shocked voice sounded as he looked up at you. He looked tired, his skin pale and a nasty bruise was forming over his cheekbone. No doubt thanks to your father.

“I’m here” you squeaked as he pulled you down into his arms, his warm body and vanilla scent putting you at ease instantly despite the incessant rocking of the ship.

“You're here” he replied, words vibrating against your hairline before he tilted your chin up and stole your lips in a kiss. Just like he had stolen your heart.

“So you do that…yep and then you twist the stalk around…that’s it!!” You cheered as your son finally wrapped the flower correctly, his big blue eyes almost disappearing behind his lids as he squealed in excitement.

“What’s all the yelling about huh?” Steve emerged, tanned skin glowing, covered in a layer of sweat and dirt, an axe resting over his shoulder.

“Daddy look” your son preened, raising the bundle of blue flowers high in the air so the blonde could see.

“Ahhh is Mama teaching you her old tricks huh?” He smiled, kneeling to place a soft kiss on his forehead before doing the same to you.

“Mhmm gotta make sure he can help me every year, isn’t that right baby?” You plopped your finished flower crown onto Steve’s head before ruffling your son's curly locks.

Despite the running, the fighting and the endless struggle to get to where you were now, you could say you’d do it all again to be sat between your handsome husband and his doppelgänger son—in a field of blue daisies. You would do it all again to be home.

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the ravenous rupture

fused with the foe, chapter five

a/n: and that's it for fused with the foe! but don't you worry, our wonderful king and queen will return in both of the next instalments of the series ♡ (the release date for the next one is already up on the masterlist)

summary: “I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, smut, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, love confession, crying, kissing, loss of virginity, semi-public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, dirty talk, oral, fingering, handjob, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, aftercare

word count: 3895

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Raising yourself up onto your tip toes, your fingertip still didn’t even manage to graze the spine of the tome you were trying to reach, only the tall shelf it stood on. 

But just then, before you could turn to get a chair to balance on, an inked hand came into view and grasped the book for you. 

“The Biology of Soil: A Farmer’s Comprehensive Study of Dirt,” Barnes dryly read the title out loud, “sounds absolutely riveting.”

“Don’t mock,” you snatched the leatherbound tome out of the knight’s hand, “it is interesting!”

“Of course, it is, your majesty,” he bit down a chuckle, “my apologies.”

A soft laugh couldn’t help but bubble out of you as you exited the library, “you know, you remind me a lot of my brothers.”

Walking at your side, he shot you a squint, “is that a compliment?”

“Well, I meant it as so, but I guess it could also be interpreted as an insult, all depending on which brother.”

Sinking further back into the plush armchair, your eyes danced from star to star as they glinted back at you through the big library window. 

The full moon was so bright that you hadn’t needed to light a candle in order to make out the sentences in the open book that rested in your lap. 

But suddenly, the creak of the heavy double doors to the chamber found your ears and when you twisted your head to discover who it was, your frame immediately sprung up from your comfortable seat. The forgotten tome tumbled to the floor with a dull thump as the embroidered dressing gown you wore over your ivory chemise fluttered around your legs as you swiftly stood.

“Your majesty–, Steve, I mean, Steve,” you clumsily corrected yourself, “hi, hello.”

“Evening,” he simply smiled, slowing his stride as he watched you bend down to pick the hardback off the floor. 

Hugging the book to your chest, you blew out a breath, “what–, uh…” you eyed the loose linen shirt he had sloppily tugged into his trousers, “what are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged, “thought a boring novel might do the trick,” letting his fingertips kiss the ends of each bookcase as he neared you by the window, “what about you?”

“Yeah, I can’t sleep either,” a soft sigh flowed from your lips, “my mind just doesn’t seem to wanna settle down these days…”

A gentle furrow appeared to Steve’s brow, “what’s troubling you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” you placed the book down on the round side table by the armchair. 

“If it’s keeping you up then it’s not nothing,” gripping the tall back of the chair, he rested against it as he gazed at your visage in the moonlight, “come on, you can talk to me.”

The knot in your chest tightened, “no, I can’t,” and you averted your gaze to the stone floor, “I really can’t…”

“Why?” 

“Because–…” clenching your jaw in an effort to keep tears at bay, you briefly shot him a glare as you snapped, “because I just can’t, alright?” squeezing your eyes shut, you quietly muttered just beneath your breath, “gods… how long will I have to wait…” 

Having apparently had better hearing than you’d thought, Steve then queried, “wait for what?”

Fluttering your eyes back open, you met his gaze and uttered sombrely, “…for it to pass…” feeling your heart thump painfully in your chest just from the mere sight of him. 

A low sigh slowly seeped out of his lungs before his unwavering gaze averted to the upholstery of the chair, “…I hope you know that I’ve grown to care for you a great deal. You’re a very dear friend,” he uttered with the utmost sincerity, “and as a dear friend, I wish for you nothing but the purest of happiness. I want you to experience all of the great and wonderful things that life has to offer,” his ocean eyes then drifted back up to catch yours, “don’t let our union hold you back for any of that.”

Sucking in a breath, you asked, “what do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

Averting your gaze, “…is that what you want?” you dug your nails into your opposite palm, “for us both to openly be with other people?”

“I don’t want you to be lonely and depressed,” fragments of desperation resonated in his tone, “you’ve already experienced more than one lifetime of hardships and I really don’t want this to be another one. So, when you fall in love, please don’t hesitate. You of all people deserve to experience that.” 

“…I–…” a shaky breath escaped you, “I can’t–…”

“…you can’t?” he echoed in nearly a whisper. 

“I can’t because–…” lifting your gaze, the library around you grew more blurry by the second, “because I can’t stop thinking about you,” you revealed, “from the moment that I wake to even the dreams that possess me at night. I can not shake you from my thoughts no matter how hard I try,” as you blinked, a tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, “Steve, I wish for you to experience those very joys you speak of just as fiercely. I just want you to be happy even if I’m not the source.”

Looking as if he was scarcely breathing at all, his gaze stayed fixed upon you as he uttered, “dove, why do you think I wish that for you?” your eyes grew wide at his confession, “I don’t wanna be with someone else when you are the one I want by my side,” his fingers faltered from the grip they had on the back of the armchair as his slow steps began to carry him closer to where you stood, “not just as my queen, but as my friend, as my conscience, as my judgement, as my heart,” his eyes glistened as he then declared, “I am yours, Y/n. I didn’t plan for it, I don’t even know when it happened or how, but I do know that it’s true.”

Closing the short distance that remained, you walked up and pulled him down as you began to rise up to your tip toes. As you crashed your lips against his, it didn’t take long before you felt his broad hands glide over your waist. 

Breaking the kiss, you retracted just enough to catch the beguiling look in his eye. The corners of his lips drew up dreamily just as yours did right before you dove back in.

As your fingers weaved in his beard, so did his tongue as it danced against your own, making you lightheaded as your feet began to shuffle back, though you didn’t realise that you’d even been moving till your spine crashed against a sturdy bookcase. 

Parting momentarily at the impact, a soft giggle swiftly followed your initial squeak the collision conjured. As his gentle chuckle echoed your own, Steve’s palm caressed down your features before he captured your lips once more. 

When the fire inside of you crackled and burned too hot for you to ignore, you pulled back, a glossy string of saliva still kept you connected a moment before you gasped, “Steve, I–… I–…”

Resting his palms over yours as they clutched the top of his tunic, he tilted his chin back further, “what?” creating enough of a distance between you to truly check in. 

But how you were going to ask of him what you desired remained a mystery, no matter how hard you scrambled your fuzzy mind. So instead, you wrapped your fingers around one of his wrists and slowly guided it lower. 

“Dove…” he sucked in a breath as his gaze shadowed the journey you were taking his touch on, “do you wanna–…” finding your eye, he asked you softly, “you sure you know what it is you’re asking for?” 

“Yes,” swiftly flowed out of you as you nodded dizzily, “I–… I know. I read the books, I read all of them, I know how it all works,” your rushed words conjured a lovely little chuckle from the royal, “I just–… please?” your hot breathed fanned across his features as he leaned back in close, “I–… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…” with your fingers still enveloped around his wrist, his touch slowly began to take over and to move on its own, “fantasising about what you might be like…” unhurriedly ghosting up and down the curve of your waist, “about what your touch must feel like…” each time creeping closer and closer to where you wished for him to caress, “how it differs compared to my own…” till his teasing touch ended each fluttering swoop with feather-light grazes at both the swell of your tits, as well as the lower part of your abdomen, just before he actually reached anything real, through still leaving you utterly dazed. 

Leaning a forearm against the shelf behind you, he smirked, “…you think about me?” 

“Every night,” you dug your fingers in the fabric of your chemise and pleadingly began to hike it up, “sometimes the sun doesn’t even manage to set before I need a moment alone… all because of you.”

As he then captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his wandering hand dipped under your thin shift before you’d even raised the hem completely. When his touch found your buzzing pearl, a whimper slipped from your lungs and vibrated against his tongue as your grip on the fabric faltered and it dropped to hang around his wrist like a curtain.

“Is this how you dreamed about me touching you?” he gazed down at you, smiling at the way you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Mind melting to ooze, you bubbled, “yes–, but also–, oh!” your brows knit together as he switched to circle your clit harder, “a-also–”

“Also how?” you could hear your want reverberate off the palace walls as he touched you, “did you dream about me kissing you down here?” holding your gaze, Steve then sank to his knees before you. 

Your breaths came in ragged as you blinked down at him, “y-yes,” watching intently as he dipped his head under your gathered-up skirts. The sloppy pecks he then lavishly began to plant over your glistening petals felt like nothing you’d ever imagined, “oh, that’s–,” you let out a broken moan, “don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Throwing your head back against the bookcase, Steve’s grip buried in your crumbled clothes as his soft tongue dragged through your desperation. 

Letting go of your chemise with one hand, it drifted down your hip. Enclosing his lips around your throbbing clit, he sucked down hard as his fingers joined to sweep through your mess, only parting from you for a breath, “gods, you taste so fucking good,” before he eased one digit inside your clenching cunt. 

You barely noticed that it was falling before the robe you wore slipped off your frame and tumbled to a puddle on the floor, leaving you with only the thin shift and the king’s hot kisses for warmth in the cold night. 

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you whimpered, reaching down to thread your fingers in his honied hair as a second finger sneaked in beside the other, fucking you gently with them. 

You nearly wiggled out of his grasp when his luscious laps unravelled you completely, but somehow the monarch managed to follow your every squirm till he softened his efforts and replaced them with a few soft pecks over your sensitive clit that made your whole form twitch.

Fluttering your eyes open, you met his gaze as he raised the back of his hand to wipe some of your juices from his beard. 

Breathlessly, you uttered, “get up,” and as he did, you didn’t waste any time before your eyes drifted from his tender stare, “take your shirt off.” 

With one hand, he reached back and tugged the tunic off of his head, swiftly letting it drop to the floor and join the fabric puddle already at your feet. 

For a moment, he didn’t give in on his urge to close the short distance between you, simply stood there and let your stare study him, learn the galaxy of his flesh, every little mark and scar that told the story of his past. 

With your eyes still glued to the burliness of his fuzzy chest, you uttered, “tell me again,” before lifting your gaze up to meet his, “tell me again so that I know this is real.”

Reaching out to grasp your right hand, he said, “it’s real,” stepping closer as he placed your ceremonially scarred palm over his heart, “I’m real, this is real,” his fingers on his own marked hand, which clasped over yours, gently brushed over your knuckles as he spoke, “I am yours,” he shifted again and closed the small gap between you, “I will always be yours till my dying breath.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, you watched as the moonlight glinted in the blue of his eyes, making them look like the sea on a stormy night. 

“I think my heart has belonged to you ever since the dragon attack,” you professed, “though it took me a while longer before I realised what it was, why you made me feel the way that you do,” you parted your fingers against his chest, “Steve,” and let his weave in with your own, “I love you.”

Using his hold as an advantage, Steve yanked you to him till your lips crashed against his. Letting your free hand wander across his warm skin, it swiftly came down to cup the palpable tent in his trousers.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly as you offered him a light pet. 

As you shifted to fiddle after the buttons on the side of his breeches, even the aid of your other hand didn’t yield any success in undoing more than one of them. Swiftly coming to your rescue, you swore it only took him three seconds before they hung loose enough around his hips for his cock to spring free.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you glanced down at length which stood so proud it poked you in the stomach. If only you had the proper context to truly know how intimidated you should have been at the discovery of his fat girth. 

Hesitantly inching your fingers closer as you stared, you asked, “can I–…?”

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slowly brought your hand the rest of the way down, engulfing his own grasp around yours and gently showing you how to touch him. 

As a sinful curse flowed from Steve’s lips, his free hand drifted up to weave itself into your hair. 

“Will it hurt?” you watched how your fingers failed to meet on the other side of his girth. 

“I don’t know, I hope not,” his forehead rested against your own, “but if it does, then we just stop and figure something else out, okay?”

“Okay…” you hazily nodded. 

Feeling his fingers flex around your own, you saw precum glint at the bulbous tip. 

“It’s all for you, dove,” you felt him throb at your touch, “all because of you,” a desperate growl then seeped out of his lungs as he seized your lips in a fervent kiss, and the next thing you knew, the whole world fell out from under you as he scooped you up into his arms. When a shrill yelp escaped you, Steve simply readjusted his grip on you and said, “don’t worry, I’ve got you,” nipping gently at your neck, “I won’t let you fall.”

With your fingers still grasping his girth, the new position now had your pussy pressed dangerously close to it, so close that you couldn’t help but sweep the head of his cock through your soppy folds and drench him. Tapping your clit a few times, the instinctual drive of his hips triggered you to simply cup his length near and let him part your pretty petals and lather himself in your needy nectar. Each desperate thrust ended in an electric nudge at your pearl, rendering you to whimper shakily into the night. 

But then suddenly, in the fog of it all, the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside, purely because of just how wet and ready you were. 

“O-oh, fuck!” everything froze as you reeled at the staggering sensation, breathlessly digging your nails into his broad shoulders and leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

“Sorry,” he hastily panted, “you okay?”

“Uh–… uh-huh,” you nodded fuzzily, shutting your eyes a moment as you caught your breath. 

But then as your gaze fluttered open once more, you caught his stare and offered him a short, affirming nod, holding his eye as he slowly began to move. 

Your mouth hung agape as he shallowly fucked you, barely even giving you anything but still turning you into goo in his grasp. 

“Y-you’re so beautiful,” you whispered as you fluttered around him. 

Gliding you’re your palm up to his cheek, moans tumbled out of you both as he gently began to offer you more. Your legs couldn’t help but twitch in his grasp as he practically split you in half with the way he eased you down on his fat cock. 

“You’re doing so well,” his face crumbled up in a silent moan as you felt every detail of him slowly stretch you out, “gods, you’re so wet…”

And the next thing you knew, it wasn’t so slow and steady any longer, as the bookcase your spine was pressed against rattled at his efforts. 

You thought before that just the bulbous head of him was overwhelming, but to have that tip kiss desperately against the deepest part of you was something else entirely. You couldn’t speak, you couldn't think, you could barely even breathe, just go slack in his firm hold and feel him, not just right there, but fucking everywhere, that’s how stuffed you were. 

Steve’s strength wasn’t that novel to you these days, but to have him lift you up and sink you down on his cock, like you were just a leaf on the wind, still managed to amaze you. 

“F-fuck,” you blubbered as you tumbled over the edge once more, “oh, fuck!” accidentally knocking a few books down as one of your arms flailed for purchase. 

You barely registered the loud thud the crashing books emanated as your frame melted down into his hold. Your face buried itself in the crook of his neck as he breathlessly came to a halt, still embedded deep inside of your clenching cunt. 

The sound of his breaths directly in your ear helped to soothe your tingling senses as he rested his cheek against the crown of your head. 

Shifting his feet, Steve carried you the short distance over to the comfortable armchair you’d inhabited earlier. Carefully sitting down in it and keeping you in his lap, his arms silkily slid up your back and hugged you close. 

After persuading you to curl out of your hiding spot by planting soft pecks all over your face, you blinked down at him, bathed in the moonlight that gushed in from the tall window beside where you sat.

Gliding a hand around to your front, Steve gently tugged on the thin string at your neckline, undoing the bow, before he pulled the shoulders down your arms till you slid out of the sleeves and the top of the undergarment crumbled to gather at your waist with the rest of the fabric. 

As he pressed his lips to the peak of your tits, one of his palms accompanied the kisses. A soft whine flowed out of you as your hand slid down to where your bodies were still joined and played with your puffy pearl. 

Casting a glance down, he groaned, “yeah, rub that little clit for me,” and your hips intuitively began to rock gently. 

As you touched yourself, something else caught your attention as you slowly began to ride him. At the lower part of your stomach, you felt the dull bulge of his staggering size poke your palm steadily to the rhythm of your gentle efforts.

Letting your pebbly nipple escape from his lips with a pop, his gravelly timbre washed over you as you slowly rocked, “that’s it, fuck–,” his grip slid down to be firm on your ass, “that’s my girl.”

Abruptly, as if snapping out of a trance, you notice just how loud you both were being.

“Wait,” you shushed him though didn’t halt your hips motions, “we’re in the library, someone could hear us!”

“Then fucking let them hear us,” his fingers dug into your ass as he desperately took over and bounced you in his lap, manhandling you as he slammed you down on his cock hard enough for you to lose your breath, “no one would dare bother us, trust me.”

And before you knew it, your cunt clamped down one last time around his cock, hard enough to halt his efforts and milk him of all of his worth. 

Weakly letting his dick slip out, your skin was practically glued to his as you plastered yourselves to each other and you sensed his hot load slowly leaked out of your sensitive hole. 

As you listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal and your heavy lids fought to stay open, a thought entered your mind. 

“Hey, Steve?”

Shifting his arms around you, his soft hum washed over you, “hm?”

Keeping your voice low, you shared, “I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight…” but to your surprise, a gentle chuckle then rumbled in his chest, “what?” you lifted your head and blinked up at him, “why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just­­–,” he smiled, gazing down at you as if Zondür himself had divinely created you especially for him, “you really think I’d let you skip off to your room alone after all of that, like it never even happened?” 

Huffing out a short giggle, you lowered your glance, “well, when you put it like that…”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “if you want me to sleep beside you, I will,” rising from his comfortable seat, he readjusted his grip on you, twisting you to him as he hooked an arm behind your knees and at your back. As he carried you close, he began to lumber out of the library and down the hallway, concurring the short distance to where your chambers lied, “my queen, I would love nothing more for the rest of my days than to fall asleep with your head on my chest and wake up to your softness arching against me…”

Flexing your fingers around his neck, you raised yourself up enough to capture his lips in a tender kiss one last time just as he kicked your bedroom door shut behind you both.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

My idea is Professor Evans is your secret Boyfriend and he is talking to you after class and your wearing something cute yet sexy around him and he doesn't like how the other guys look at you in it so he punishes you for being his bad little girl.

here is a pic for inspo

Only For Me To See » Chris Evans (AU)

Pairings: College Professor!Chris Evans x College Student!Female Reader

Summary: Chris makes it very clear to you that your outfit is only for him to see by showing you who you belong to.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, age gap (reader is in her early to mid 20s), secret relationship, jealousy, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, sir kink, praise kink, light spanking, slight orgasm denial, pet names

A/N: Thank you for requesting @cevansbaby-dove 🩵 thank you for the picture inspo too😉🩷

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Chris didn’t like the idea of you wearing an outfit that’s cute and sexy around other guys. You wore something cute, but sexy to class today. You wore a skirt with a sweater you just bought. You took the sweater off about halfway through class, because you got hot. You had a plain white tank top on underneath it. Jealousy was coursing through his veins. Chris doesn’t like the idea of other guys looking at what’s his. He tried his best to push the jealousy aside so he can teach.

“Y/N, meet me in my office in 5 minutes.” Chris says to you at the end of class.

“Yes, sir.” You replied softly with a smile.

A couple girls who are in one of your classes gave you a wink as you walked in Chris’s office.

“You wanted to see me, Professor Evans?” You asked, closing the door behind you.

“Yes.” Chris stood up from his desk chair. “Lock the door.” He says.

You didn’t question it and locked the door. You walked over to his desk, standing in front of it.

“Is this about my essay?” You asked.

“No. Your essay is excellent.” He answers. “This is about what you’re wearing.” He says, his voice sounding a little low.

You frowned and looked down at your outfit, wondering what’s wrong with it.

“I think it’s cute.” You say.

“It is.” He replies, walking around his desk with his hands in his pockets. “It’s also sexy.” He says.

“What’s wrong with that?” You asked with a pout.

“Nothing at all. Except…” He took a step closer to you. “Guys kept looking at you.” He says.

It didn’t take you long to realize what this is about. Chris is jealous.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” You asked seductively.

Chris chuckled lowly and leaned down to your height, his lips next to your ear and his beard poking your cheek.

“I’m gonna punish you.” He whispers in your ear.

A shiver went through your body. Chris took off his glasses and put them on his desk before kissing you. You moaned against his lips. He moved you towards his desk and pulled his lips away from yours. He spun you around and bent you over his desk so your ass was sticking out towards him and your elbows were on his desk.

He lifted your skirt up so it was bunched up above your hips and pulled down your panties, revealing your wet pussy to him. Your panties were pooled around your ankles. He then landed a harsh smack on your ass cheek. You jolted forward a bit and squeaked at the feeling. Chris leaned over you, his chest against your back and his bulge against your ass.

“Here’s how this is gonna work…” Chris said softly in your ear. “You’re going to take your punishment like a good girl and you’ll address me as sir. Understood?” He says.

“Understood, sir.” You say submissively.

“Good girl.” He praises softly.

His hand rubbed the curve of your ass and gave it another spank. You hissed softly at the sting, but it felt good at the same time. A tingle shot through your body when you heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled. That excited you even more.

You gasped when he rubbed his cock against your pussy, getting it wet with your slick. Your nails dug into the wood of his desk when he slid his cock in your pussy. Chris gave you a moment to adjust to his size before he started thrusting. You bit your bottom lip to keep your moans quiet so no one knew what you two were doing in his office.

“You wore this outfit to make me jealous, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Chris asks.

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.” You answered mischievously.

Chris chuckles lowly. He knows you wore the outfit to make him jealous by having other guys looking at you.

One of his hands grabbed a handful of your ass cheek while the other one found its place on your hip. Chris admired the position you’re currently in. Bent over his desk with your panties around your ankles and him fucking you. That image is forever burnt into his brain and he absolutely loves it. Chris leaned over you, his chest against your back and his lips near your ear.

“You’re supposed to be a good girl and not show off what’s mine.” Chris almost whispers in your ear.

“I’m always a good girl.” You whimpered.

“You weren’t today. You were showing other guys what’s mine. You know I don’t like that.” He says.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized in a whine.

“It’s too late for sorry, sweetheart. Now, be a good girl and try to be quiet.” He says lowly.

He kissed just below your ear, making you almost moan out loud. His cock was hitting all of the right spots. You felt like you were gonna go crazy without moaning his name loudly. If you did, people outside of his office would hear what you two are doing and neither of you wanted that.

“I won’t do it again, sir.” You promised, followed by a soft moan.

“Won’t do what again?” Chris asks when he already knows the answer to that question.

“I won’t wear an outfit like this to class again.” You tell him.

“Good.” He hums. “Now…” He reaches a hand around to the front of your body and slides it down to your clit. “Take my cock like a good girl.” He says.

You gasped when you felt his fingers press against your clit before he started rubbing it in a circular motion. Soft breathy moans left your lips. Your nails dug into the wood of his desk, leaving scratches mark lines on it.

Both of you know that you won’t last long when he rubs your clit. Sometimes you can cum just from him rubbing it. This time is one of those times. You could feel your orgasm slowly building up. Your pussy squeezed around his cock when his fingers applied more pressure on your clit as he rubbed it.

“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” You managed to say without moaning, referring to the way he was rubbing your clit.

“No.” Is all Chris says.

“But-” You were cut off when his hand smacked your ass, causing you to stop talking.

“I said no.” He repeats.

You huffed and whimpered. You should’ve known better than to huff at him, because the next thing you know, his hand is on your shoulder and he pulls you up so your back was against the front of his body. His fingers stopped rubbing your clit momentarily.

“Do you want to cum or not?” Chris asks in your ear.

“I want to cum.” You say with a small whimper.

“Then stop giving me an attitude or you’re not gonna cum.” He says.

“Yes, sir.” You say submissively.

“Good girl.” He praises.

He bent you back over his desk and started rubbing your clit again. He sped up his thrusts. You bit your bottom lip and moaned when his cock hit your sweet spot. Your orgasm built up even more. You felt like you were going to cum any second due to how good Chris is fucking you and his fingers rubbing your clit.

“Sir, I’m- fuck!” You moaned softly. “Can I cum please?” You begged. “I’m being a good girl.” You say.

“Looks like you are.” He said. “Cum for me, sweetheart.” He says.

Your eyes rolled to the back over your head as you came on his cock. Chris fucked you through your orgasm. He gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own. He wasn’t too far behind you. Both of his hands found their way to your hips, holding them with a tight grip.

“Fuck…” He moans lowly.

He came inside of you, painting your walls with his cum. His thrusts came to a slow stop. Chris leaned over you, putting a hand on his desk just above your head. You two stayed in this position for a moment while you guys caught your breaths.

After a moment, he pulled his cock out of you and put it back in his boxers. He buttoned and zipped his pants, along with buckling his belt. You pulled your panties up and readjusted your skirt.

You turned around to face Chris, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands found their way back to your hips and pulled you against him. He dipped his head down and kissed you. You moaned against his lips, feeling a little bit of roughness in the kiss. He then moved his lips down to your neck. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access. You moaned softly when you felt his teeth bite your skin hard enough for a hickey.

“Now everyone will know you belong to me.” Chris whispers in your ear, sending a shiver through your body.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

[matchpointfaist]

all these people think love’s for show, but i would die for you in secret

steve rogers x reader

tw for smut, angst

// au note. steve is still captain america, reader was with natasha in the red room and fights w the avengers! they knew each other years before (think of nat saying at least you could rmr me to bucky vibes), they're not supposed to be together but! a lot of things probably aren't canon realistic but i like to have fun so no one be mean to me. reader is lowkey yelena

you weren't a human being. that was the first thing you remember ever being taught. you were not a person who was allowed to feel, but a machine to be used up until you couldn't function any longer. natasha was not your sister, not your home, even if she was the only semblance of safety you ever felt. even if she had soft eyes and softer hands, even if she rocked you to sleep when you were exhausted from training and the endless tears that seemed to only come at night. even if she was the only one that protected you- she was just another number, another widow.

when you escaped, everything changed. the world you'd known, confined to the academy and tortured endlessly, was gone. now in its place was freedom that seeped into your skin, made your bones ache with the overbearing intensity. you could go anywhere, be anyone, if only you could escape yourself. the training was who you were, the only home you'd known. you spent days you should have been relaxing just working yourself up again. the nightmares didn't stop when you woke up, if you ever slept at all. it ran over into every aspect of your life, into the small moments of independence you shared with nat, to the brief, fleeting seconds of peace you felt. you couldn't escape it.

natasha had met with shield, arranged everything, promised your cooperation. she'd always been better at things like that, always more composed. you were finally fighting for something good, she'd told you, finally doing the right thing. you let yourself fall into the fantasy, dreamed of it at night until it replaced most of the night terrors you'd grown used to. the avengers, an elite team, the best of the best. good people, who were focused on a good cause. you could start over, could run and run until you were one of them, until all memories of the torment were replaced by those of helping people.

you met them all at once, a flurry of conversation that overwhelmed you in the most pleasant way you could imagine. a warmth swept through you, a sense of belonging that you'd only ever felt when you were alone with nat. you could make a home here, in this busy, chaotic tower, with all of these brilliant people. steve was the best of them, always. from the moment you walked into the room, you'd been at ease with him, comforted by the soft blue of his eyes and the small smile on his lips. you'd heard all about him, the soldier too weak to fight, turned into a weapon. you saw shadows of the man he used to be, and it drew you in closer, desperate for confirmation that someone was like you. you were both children once, both happy, both full of promise. and you'd both had it taken.

that first night in the tower, you'd woken up drenched in sweat, gasping for a breath that was just out of reach. you'd wandered the halls, searching for something to soothe you, or at the very least to distract you. you settled into a window seat, far above the city, high enough that you couldn't make out the faces of the people wandering home from the bars or dates or any aspect of their lives that you'd never had. you imagined them, though, pictured the smiles and laughs, the blushed cheeks and twinkling eyes. you allowed yourself a brief moment to mourn; for yourself, for the life you'd never get. for natasha, and the weakness she could never show. for steve, and the photographs of his past life they displayed in a museum, the ghost of his best friend arm in arm with a younger, happier man. you reacted on impulse when someone brushed your shoulder, your heart racing as you jerked their arm forward, pressed the knife you kept even tucked into your pajamas to their throat.

steve just smiled down at you, slightly breathless. "careful there. that'd be a nasty stain on tony's shiny floors," "i'm so sorry," you tucked your knife away, cheeks hot, "i shouldn't have been out here, i didn't think anyone would be up," "it's alright," he waved a dismissive hand with the ease of someone who hadn't just had a knife to their skin, "you have as much of a right to be out here as i do," you knew in the back of your mind that this wasn't entirely true. steve had worked so hard to carve a place for himself, had been through so much. a much smaller part of you knew that you had, too, but you weren't comparable to him. you never could be. "i should get to bed," you said quietly, running a hand over your face as if you could wipe away his impression on your mind. "wait," his hand settled on your wrist, warm and insistent, "i just- i wanted to say i'm sorry. the shit that you and nat had to go through, it was inhumane. i think you're incredible for surviving that,"

"i'm not incredible," tears stung at the back of your eyes, "i only did what i had to do," "you could have stayed," his voice was painfully soft, "it took a lot of strength to break out of their control. i know from experience," "i'm not like you," you shook your head, face hot, "you're a hero, i'm just- i'm nothing," "that's not true at all," he brushed a lock of hair from your eyes, his touch tentative and slow, "besides, you're one of us now. you're part of something," his fingers left your hair to trace the cotton of the shirt tony had given you, when you and nat had arrived with only the clothes on your backs. "this was mine, yknow?" there was a small smile on his lips, "i offered up some of my old shirts when tony said you'd need them. figured they'd be a bit too big, but there's no other girls around, so,"

you thought back to the small SR you'd seen stitched into the tag, the pieces falling together in your mind. "well thank you," your cheeks warmed at the thought of something so personal as wearing another's clothes. you'd never known something so intimate. "i went to your museum," you weren't sure why you even said it, and the regret was immediate when the smile slipped from his face. "yeah? and what did you find there?" there was a new edge to his voice, something like anxiety. "just- it was just old photos of you. i'm sure you know," you cleared your throat, desperate to avoid the conversation or fix it somehow. "yeah. i'm familiar," he nodded, scratching the back of his neck, "why? i mean, why did you go there?"

"i read about tony, when nat first told me about the avengers. and i couldn't find much about clint, really, and obviously bruce and thor are well known. but you- i don't know. i just wanted to see if it was all true," you hoped it was a good enough answer, satisfactory enough to wipe the irritation from his face. "did you find what you were looking for?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. "no," you shook your head with a sigh, "i just- i wanted to say i'm sorry. i'm sorry that you had to go through that, i'm sorry about bucky," the name seemed to jar him, his posture straightening, "they added something about him?" it came from his lips like it pained him, like he couldn't utter his actual name. "yeah, there was a whole instillation about your early life, and there were a lot of photos of him. they said he was your best friend," you got the impression that there was more to it than that, but didn't press. "he was- yeah, my best friend. thank you for saying that,"

"i'm sorry he's gone," you tried your best to tread lightly, "i can't imagine what you went through. if i lost nat, i don't- i don't know what i would do," "yeah, thank you," he nodded, running a hand over his face, "you should get some rest if you can. we'll probably start training tomorrow," "right," you forced your eyes away from his, "well goodnight, steve. thank you for talking to me," "goodnight," the soft smile had returned, gracing you one last time for the evening, "anytime, really,"

training with steve was like the antithesis of everything you'd learned about fighting. you fought like a soldier, like you had to, but he fought like an art, moved through the air with agility and poise that couldn't be taught. he was all fluidity where you were sharp movements, slower and stronger where you were quick and tactful. it was refreshing to train with someone besides nat or the other girls, someone who'd learned from somewhere else. he kept you on your toes, kept you questioning and curious, but never afraid. sometime during those first months of fighting in padded rooms, you started to feel something more for him than just respect or admiration. he made you feel alive, feel real, until anything other than that feeling was a distant memory. all the times you'd been told you weren't a human being, that you were incapable of love, felt horribly false when your eyes caught his. he didn't look at you like a machine, or a villain, or anything other than yourself, whoever that may be.

the days bled into each other after that—training sessions that left your muscles aching and your mind sharp, briefings where you tried to listen more than speak, and stolen moments with nat where you almost felt like the person she thought you were becoming. the nightmares were less frequent, or maybe you were just too exhausted to remember them. steve never treated you differently after that first night. if anything, he seemed to seek you out more. he’d offer to pair off during sparring, ask your opinion in debriefs, invite you on runs that left you breathless but strangely content. he didn’t say much during them—he rarely did—but his presence was steady and quiet in a way that made you feel tethered to something real.

you caught yourself watching him more often than you meant to; the way he held doors open without thinking, how he always stood a little to the side in crowded rooms so no one felt boxed in. he laughed easily but rarely loudly, like he was always holding some piece of himself back. you understood that instinct. one evening, you found yourself in the kitchen past midnight, the silence thick and familiar. the fluorescent lights hummed overhead as you stirred honey into a mug of tea, hoping the warmth would keep the cold at bay—the kind that didn’t come from the air but lived somewhere deeper, in your ribs or your spine or the back of your throat. “you ever sleep?” steve’s voice broke the silence, low and amused. you didn’t startle this time- that alone felt like progress. “sometimes,” you said, sipping the tea, letting the warmth sting your lips.

he joined you at the counter, his shoulder brushing yours as he reached for a glass. he didn’t pour anything yet, just held it, like it gave him something to do. “nightmares?” he asked after a beat. you nodded, "you?” “all the time," you glanced up at him, at the shadows under his eyes and the heavy way he held himself. “bucky?” you almost hesitated to ask. he flinched, barely, but nodded, “it’s always bucky," you didn’t say anything. you didn’t have to.

“i used to think if I just did enough good, it’d start to outweigh the bad,” he said, voice almost too soft to hear, “but some things- they don’t balance like that," “i know,” you whispered. you stood there for a long while, silence stretching between you like a thread. not uncomfortable, just there. real. “i don’t know how to be anything else,” you admitted finally, “i don’t know how to be normal," he just laughed softly, “what’s normal?” you managed a weak smile.

he looked down at you then, eyes so impossibly blue and kind it made your chest ache, “you don’t have to be anything else,” he said, “you’re allowed to just be," the tears came before you could stop them. not loud or dramatic—just a quiet leaking from the corners of your eyes, like your body had decided for you. he didn’t speak, just reached for your hand, held it in both of his like it was precious. like you were. and for the first time in your life, you didn’t pull away.

you didn’t remember falling asleep, but when you woke up, your head was resting on steve’s shoulder, your fingers still loosely wrapped around his. the faintest blush of dawn painted the sky outside the windows. for a moment, you didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. you just were—warm, safe, still. it was terrifying. you sat up carefully, disentangling your hand. he stirred, eyes fluttering open like he hadn’t meant to fall asleep either. “morning,” he mumbled, rubbing his neck with a wince. “sorry,” you said quickly, "i didn’t mean to—” “don’t,” he cut you off gently, with that soft half-smile, “you don’t need to apologize for sleeping. especially not with how little of it you get," you looked away, “still, you didn’t sign up to be my emotional support captain," that got a small laugh out of him, “i’m a super soldier, i think i can handle a little vulnerability,"

you shook your head, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. it was unfamiliar. not forced, not fake. “come with me,” he said suddenly. you blinked away the surprise, “where?” “for a ride. it’s early, roads will be clear. i want to show you something.” you hesitated. the tower was safe. the tower was known. but steve was looking at you with that same steady warmth that always chipped away at your defenses, and some part of you—some broken, brave part—nodded.

you didn’t expect the motorcycle. “you drive that?” you asked, eyeing the sleek, black machine like it might bite you. he grinned as he handed you a helmet, “trust me," you did. you didn’t understand it, didn’t have a reason to, but you did. the city was quiet at that hour, the streets still wearing the last remnants of night. you clung to steve as the wind whipped past you, the lights blurring like old memories. you didn’t speak. neither of you needed to. he brought you to the edge of the city, where a small overlook sat just above the river. the skyline stretched wide before you, the sun beginning to rise behind it in soft golds and pinks. he didn’t say anything, just sat on the edge of the stone wall and waited until you joined him.

for a while, you just stared out at it all. the waking city, the impossible beauty of it, the life. “i used to come here when i first woke up in this time,” he said eventually, “when everything felt too loud, too fast. this was the only place that felt still," you listened, heart slowing for the first time in days. “i didn’t know who i was anymore. everything i'd been was gone. the world moved on without me," you turned toward him, “what changed?” he looked down, twisting his hands in his lap. “i met people who made space for me. who let me be, even when i didn’t know what that meant yet," your throat tightened at the familiarity of it all. “you don’t have to figure it all out today,” he continued, “or tomorrow. you don’t owe anyone healing on their schedule. but you are healing, whether you see it or not," a long silence followed. then, softly, you asked, “do you think we ever get to be whole again?” "i think we become something new,"

you didn’t return to the tower until the sun was fully up. no one asked where you’d been. if nat noticed the calmer look in your eyes, or the quiet way your hand brushed steve’s as you passed him in the kitchen, she didn’t say anything. later that day, he handed you something small after training—a patch, simple, with the avengers “A” stitched into it. “you’re one of us now, just like i told you that first night,” he said, “if you want to be," you stared at it, throat tight, hands trembling slightly. if you want to be echoed in your mind. you’d never been given a choice before, not like this. so you took it.

later that night, you had your first nightmare in weeks. you’d been fighting, some unmemorable event, and steve had reached for you just as he died, right in front of your eyes. you’d been helpless, unable to stop, to help him, just like so many people before him. you woke up screaming, your lungs burning from sucking in air, your pajamas more shackles than comfort. your bedroom door opened, and before you could process it, steve was in front of you, alive and real. “are you okay?” he looked worried, more than you’d ever seen him, and it touched some faraway part of you, “i came as soon as i heard screaming,” “i’m fine,” your hands shook as you pushed the hair from your face, your heart still racing. “you don’t have to be fine,” your mattress dipped with his weight as he sat beside you, hesitating before taking you into his arms, encircling you in his warmth. you broke down for the second time, sobbing into his chest, choking on your own desperation for some peace. “i couldn’t stop it,” you cried, shoulders shaking, “i can never fucking stop it,”

“i’m right here,” he murmured into your hair, his hand on your back, “you’re okay, nothings gonna hurt you, alright? you’re safe,” “it’s not me,” you managed, voice breaking, “everyone around me gets hurt and i can’t- i never stop it, and you died right in front of me and i couldn’t-“ “ hey, hey,” he tilted your chin up to look at him, wiping your eyes with the pad of his thumb, “i’m not hurt, alright? i’m right here, right as rain, see? we’re fine,” you didn’t know how to describe it, the raw terror clawing at your chest. “i can’t get close to you,” you finally exhaled, your eyes falling closed to avoid the shadow of hurt that passed over his face, “i can’t- it’s too much, me and nat and i just can’t add to that, i can’t have anyone else to lose,” “you already have me,” he said quietly, his voice more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it, “me and anyone else in this tower. we’d die to keep you safe, alright? we’re a team, all of us. and i- come on, you know how i feel,”

you blinked up at him, pupils dilating as you looked over his face. “what do you mean how you feel?” “you know what i mean,” his brows furrowed, “you gotta see it, i mean- id do anything for you,” “because of the team,” you nodded, pulling your lip between your teeth, “right? i mean, you said anyone here-“ “no,” he cut you off, his voice shaky, “no, that’s not what i mean,” before you could ask him to elaborate, his lips were on yours, warm and just firm enough to keep your attention, tentative and gentle, safe and comforting like nothing you’d ever known. a soft, surprised sound left your throat, captured by his mouth as it moved with yours. “i would do anything,” he mumbled as he pulled away to catch his breath, his cheeks tinged red, “anything in the world for you. as soon as you came here, i knew i’d never be the same,” “i didn’t know,” you felt impossibly stupid, blind, reckless. “because i didn’t tell you,” he trailed his fingertips over the curve of your jaw, “i’ve never felt this way. there were women before, before all of this happened, but you- you’re something else entirely. you remind me of who i was,” “who you were?” your voice was quiet, softer than you’d have liked. “who i was before the serum, before any of this. you remind me of brooklyn. it’s stupid, but all i can think-“ he cut himself off with a weak laugh, “i think of calling you up on my rotary, inviting you out to dinner all proper. i think about taking you home to my shoebox apartment and writing you letters when i went to war and comin home to you, living a normal life. you’re such an impossibility to me,”

you weren’t sure who pressed it further, but eventually both of your clothes were shed into a pile on his floor, his hands trailing hot and heady over your skin. “gorgeous,” he mumbled into your neck, shuddering as you scratched lightly at his scalp. he shifted, pinning you under him just quick enough to take your breath away. he fit inside of you like pieces clicking into place, deep enough to have your breath hitched and eyes rolled back, moving slowly as to not hurt you, clearly holding back desperation. “oh, steve,” you mewled, your nails raking down his back. “feel so good, darlin,” he exhaled, shaky and breathless, “like you were made for me,” he took his time, treated your body like an altar, like he’d finally found some semblance of salvation right there between your thighs. you thought of how far you’d come, the life you’d traveled through to get here. the wars you’d fight if it meant you could see the particular shade of blue in his eyes as he gazed down at you, pupils dilated, or the way his lips grew slick with spit, the way he breathed your name like a prayer. “so close,” he groaned, head falling back slightly, exposing the small marks you’d left on his neck. “please,” you whimpered, feeling yourself nearing the edge as well. he slowed his thrusts, delaying his own pleasure to press against your clit, desperate to see you come undone for him. “oh my god,” you let out a high pitched moan as you came, trembling beneath him, eyes squeezed shut as your body shook with pleasure. he worked you through it, burying his face in your neck as he came seconds later, mumbling praise into your sweat dampened skin.

the two of you laid entangled after that, his fingertips tracing over your skin absentmindedly, a soft silence between you. “i meant what i said. you made everything different for me,” he said quietly, his tone serious but soft. “i know,” you murmured, “i don’t know how to say what i feel for you, but i’m trying to sort it out,” you didn’t tell him that you were terrified, that this could become a nightmare one day that you wouldn’t be able to wake from. you just let him hold you, firm and comforting. “i’ve never loved anyone but bucky,” he said, half asleep, his arm around your waist, “i’ve been so afraid to let my guard down. losing him- it was hell. i don’t know how to describe it. but i want to let myself believe we could have this, okay? we- we could start over. we earned this,” “yeah,” you nodded, a soft smile on your lips, “yeah, i think so. we did earn it, maybe. you’re a good person, steve, and if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you,” “i’d like to be happy with you,” he said softly, kissing the side of your head, “we’ll just take it slow. but i wanted to be clear,” you let yourself fall asleep in his arms, the first time in your life you’d slept next to anyone but nat. in the morning, you woke to the sunlight streaming through his window, illuminating the small scars on his skin. he’d never looked more beautiful.

[andydrysdalerogers]

You Belong With Me ~ Johnny Storm

Ranch Hand! Johnny Storm x Rancher’s Daughter!Reader 

Summary: Your best friend is in love with you. You just don’t know it yet… 

Song: You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift 

Word Count: 6.7k 

Warnings: angst, pet death, pining, minor domestic violence, smut! (Oral-female receiving, masturbation, p in v, loss of virginity)  

Banners by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Master List

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. Reblogs and likes are most welcome though!

Johnny POV

I’m in love with my best friend.  Problem is, she doesn’t know that.  

Three years ago, I started working on the YLN Rainbow Ranch for her father, Mr. YLN. First day on the job, I was told not to harass his daughter.  For weeks, I never met the girl in question. Then one day, a girl was in the stable, stroking the nose of one of the horses, Daisy.  

“Hey Miss? You’re not supposed to be here,” I called out.  It was close to dusk, and I was closing for the night. I walked over to the girl and tapped her shoulder. She jumped back, tripping on me. I caught her before she hit the ground. She popped a headphone out of her ear.   

“You scared me!” She looked at me with bright, wide eyes, her skin flawless, her hair in curly pigtails. She’s beautiful and I’m stunned. “Hey, let me go.” That’s when I realized that I’ve caught her in a dip and she’s looking up at me.  

I move quickly to get her on her feet, and I pull my cap off and run a nervous hand through my hair.  “Sorry, miss. The stables are closing.”  

“Its ok, I live here.  YN,” she offers her hand.  

“Johnny, I’m one of the ranch hands.”  

“Oh, cool. Sorry I’ve been away and only just got back from camp.”  

“That’s nice,” I tell her, trying not to stare.  

She looked at me curiously. “How old are you?” 

“Eighteen. You?” 

She looked shocked. “A gentleman should never ask a lady her age.”  

I chuckled. “Something tells me you ain’t no lady.”  

She giggled. “I’m fifteen.”  

Fuck, she’s jailbait. “Well, did you need someone to walk you back to the house?” 

She saw that it was getting dark, and she smiled.  “I would like that.”  

I knew I was risking my hide and my job if her father thought I was doing anything inappropriate. So I keep enough room between us as we walked.  “So, camp? How was that?” 

“Long but fun. I’m considered a counselor now so I get to be in charge but the kids are great, so it was just a fun sleepover.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if I’ll do it again. I’d rather ride my horse all summer.”  

“Let me guess. Your horse is Daisy?” 

“Good guess. I’ve had her since I started riding at four. She’s my best friend. She listens to me and doesn’t judge me. Kinda like you,” she tells me. “You don’t talk a lot.”  

“Not really. My mouth usually gets me in trouble.” I smirk. “My twin sister says that my mouth can get me in and out of trouble.”  

“I can see that.” She gives me her own smirk. We get to her door. “Thanks for walking me back.”  

“Any time, Cowgirl.”  

“See ya, Cowboy.”  

It’s been that way for three years. Every day I worked hard and at night, YN would visit me in the barn as I finished for the day. I’d walk her home and say good night. When she was having a hard day, I would climb to her window and whisper with her, never going inside for fear of her father finding me.  

Until one day, she stopped coming to the barn.  

Three years later… 

I was closing up the barn, waiting for YN, when I saw another car pull up to the house. I saw a guy get out and knock on the door. I watched as my YN came out with a smile and a pretty dress and took the hand of the guy that wasn’t me. She climbed into the car, and they drove off.  

She took my heart with her. 

It was her senior year. She is eighteen now. And I wanted to ask her out but I was too late. I finished my duties, headed to my own truck and went to the bar, to drown my sorrows.  

The next morning was brutal. I barely made it to work on time with the hangover of the century.  

Time went on and I did my job, caring for the horses, getting them out to the yard for exercise or grooming. It had been about three months since YN had started dating Ransom. What the hell kinda name was Ransom anyway? I kept my thoughts to myself. YN would still visit me on occasion, gushing about her new beau and how perfect he was. I tried to be as supportive has possible as her best friend but it killed me inside,  

One March afternoon, I went to take the horses out to their yard. We had another month before we started moving cattle so I got them to roam and exercise as best I could. I went to Daisy’s stall, but she wasn’t herself. She whines and stamps; she was in distress. I ran for YN’s father.  “Mr. YLN! You gotta call the vet! Something is wrong with Daisy!” He pulled out his phone as I ran back to the horse.  

“It's ok girl, we’ll get you all fixed up, you’ll see.” I stoked her neck and nose, trying to calm her. Fifteen minutes later, Doc Brown, the vet, came in and did a check.  I tried to keep her calm as he checked on her.  

After a few minutes, Doc removed his glasses. “I’m sorry Mr. YLN. Daisy has twisted gut. Normally I would say surgery but given her age, I don’t think that’s wise. It would just cause more pain.”  

“Shit.” Her father looked up to blink back tears. “I need to call YNN.”  

“I can do it, Mr. YLN,” I offered. He nodded as he discussed logistics with Doc. I reached for my phone and called, taking a deep breath as it rang. 

“Hey Cowboy!” 

“Hey Cowgirl. Where are you?” 

“I’m having lunch with Mama. Why?” 

I tried to keep my voice steady. “YN, I need you to come to the horse barn right now.”  

“Is everything ok?” 

“No. It’s Daisy.”  

“Daisy? Mama, we have to go. I’ll be right there, Johnny.” She hung up and I turned to Doc and Mr. YLN. “YN and Mrs. YLN are on the way.”  

“Thanks Johnny. Can you stick around?”  

“Sure.” I hung back as they moved Daisy to a bigger stall so she would have more room. I’ve seen animals put down before but not one that was considered more family than anything else. Twenty minutes later, YN came running in. “Daddy! Johnny! What’s going on? Why is Diasy in there?” 

Her father puts his hands on her shoulders. “Sweetheart, Daisy has twisted gut. Doc tried to fix it but the only way to do that is with surgery.”  

“Ok. Are they getting ready for that?” She asks with hope.  

Mr. YLN sighs. “No baby. She’s too old for that. We have to…” 

“No,” she backs away. “No, she’s my Daisy! You can’t…” She runs into the pen with Daisy and hangs onto her neck, sobbing uncontrollably. We all give her some time as I help Doc get everything ready.  

“It’s time, YNN,” her dad calls.  

“Daddy, please, don’t let them do this. Let’s fix her, please!”she cries.  

“If I thought it would be the best thing for her, if Doc thought she would survive, I would. But she’s an old girl and its time. I’m so sorry sweetheart.” He tries to hug his daughter, but she wiggles free and runs right into my arms. I hold her tight, feeling her tears run through her body. I look at my boss and his heart his broken for his little girl.  

“Do you want to stay, YN? We can wait outside if…” 

“No,” she cuts me off, “I want to stay with her.”  

“Ok, we can stay. I’ll hold your hand if you want.” 

She turned away from me but kept my hand in hers. “I’m r-ready, Doc.”  

“Ok, I’ll inject a sedative to put her to sleep and then administer the narcotic. She won’t feel anything, YN.”  

She nods but goes to Daisy one more time. “I love you, Daisy. Thank you for being my best friend.” She kisses her nose one more time before she comes back to me. She grips my hand hard. I see her father eyeing me warily. But I stand tall.  

Once the doc administered the last dose, YN wailed and turned into me again. I held her to me, letting her cry. She needed this, to just cry for the loss of her best friend. As she starts to hiccup, I whisper to her, “Let’s get you home, ok?” She nods and I guide her out.  

She continues to cry as I walk her to the house. Her cell phone rings and she answers, trying to calm her voice. “Ransom? Are you on your way? We stop walking as she talks to that entitled prick. But I need you… Daisy died and… no I understand… am I going to… ok, bye.” She turned to me and blushed. “His grandfather needs him,” waving the phone.Her smile came out watery. “He’ll come by later.”  

One more tear fell from her eye. I cupped her cheek and thumbed her cheek to clear the tear. “I’m here, Cowgirl.” I pull her to me and rest my chin on her head as she sobbed. I walked her to the porch steps, and I sat us down. It took a while but she finally got to sniffle. “You doing, ok?” 

“Yeah.” She looked at me with your beautiful eyes, red rimmed, puffy lips, tear-stained cheeks. “He’s not a bad guy, you know.”  

“I know.”  

“But I’m thankful I have you.” She smiles. “Will you come see me tonight?” 

“Cowgirl, that is not…” 

“Please, Johnny. I just want to talk and get out of my head. “She gave me her puppy eyes and I fucking cave.  Because I always cave.  

I’d do anything for her.  

“Sure, Cowgirl. I’ll be by around midnight.”  

“Thank you, Cowboy.”  

At midnight, I came on my bike and parked behind the barn, so I didn’t wake her parents. There’s an old tree right next to her window that I always scale. Thankfully, her parent’s room is on the other side of the house. There is a faint light in the window. The night light she’s had since five, was still on. It was the shape and color of Daisy and I knew she had it in because she was missing her friend. Once I got onto the roof, I gently tapped the window so YN knew I was there. She opened the curtain and smiled at me in the window. She opened it gently. “Hi Cowboy.”  

“Hey Cowgirl.” I sat next to the window. “How are you feeling?” 

She gave me a sad smile. “I’m ok. Ransom didn’t come by. He said he was too busy.” She sighed and looked at her lamp. “I miss her.”  

“I know you do, Cowgirl. But after a while, we’ll find you a new horse to raise because that’s what Daisy would want.”  

“You think?” 

“Well, if something happened to me, I would want you to find a new best friend because I never want you to be alone. I feel like Daisy and I are kindred spirits like that.  We both love you.”  

I didn’t realize the implication of my words. They were the truth, that’s all I know. I looked out at the moon and sighed. Every day I wished she knew that she belonged with me. That she would wake and see me and knew what she that I was the one she was looking for. But I can’t force her. I’d still be there for her no matter what.  

“You mean that, Johnny?” I turned to face her, and she was closer to me.  

A tendril of hair had escaped her messy bun and I gently pushed in behind her ear. Yeah, YN, I mean it.  

She studied me with those beautiful eyes before she leaned forward and pressed her soft lips to mine. I was stunned for half a second before I gave myself into it. I put my hand on her neck to hold her close to me and deepened it. I would have been a big fat fucking liar if I didn’t say that it was the best kiss of my life. I finally pulled back to let us breathe but kept our foreheads together. “Cowgirl…” 

“Yes, Cowboy?” 

“That was… amazing.”  

“Yeah, it was.” She pulled back smiling before her face started to fall. “Oh my… Johnny, I’m…” 

I stop her. “Don’t say your sorry. Please. I don’t regret any of that. But I understand. You have a boyfriend. I respect that. But I’m always here for you, Cowgirl.” I look at my watch. “I should go. I have to be back here in five hours.”  

She frowned but when I turned to leave, she grabbed my hand and stopped me. “Are you riding Torch tomorrow?” 

Torch was one of the wild horses we had caught.  I had been trying to tame him but he was still pretty wild.  The only people he seems to like was YN and me. But I’d be dammed if she got on him.  “Yes, but you need to stay out of the pen, Cowgirl. You can help me when he’s tied to the fence. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek and took off.  

I relived that kiss in my head the entire night and in the shower the next morning.  

I was in the yard a couple of weeks later, trying to work with Torch. “C’mon boy, work with me here,” I gritted out. The horse neighed and I looked to see YN and Ransom watching. “C’mon Torch, let’s show our girl what we can do.”  I manage to get the saddle on him and climbed on. “Ok, Torch, let’s walk.” I walked around the yard a couple of times. Then I got him into a canter.  

“Looking good, Cowboy!” I smiled over my shoulder to YN but frowned when Ransom wrapped his arm around her waist. I kept working, trying to keep the jealousy off my face. He has his hands on my girl. I unfocus for just a second and Torch bucks. I get unseated and hit the ground, knocking the wind out of me.  “Johnny!” 

I hear it far away as I try to unblur my vision and get oxygen back in me. I turn over as I see YN climb the fence, her hat being blown off and Torch is headed right for her. I suck in a breath.  

“YN! No!” I scramble and leap for the reigns. I catch them by the tips of my fingers and pull Torch away from her. I hang on as he pulls until one of the other ranch hands grabs the leather and I can let go. I lay on the ground, breathing hard, trying to get the image of YN’s face of terror out of my eyes.  

“Johnny!” She skids to a stop next to me, kneeling over. “Are you ok?” 

I shake my head as I keep trying to breathe. “YN, you can’t just jump in the ring. Cowgirl, I was terrified you were going to get hurt.”  

“I don’t care.” She cups my cheek. “I was so scared you hit your head.”  

“YN!” I hear Ransom bark at her. “You’re getting dirty and we have to meet my parents! Get off the dirt and go change!” 

I got up and dusted myself off. I helped YN off the dirty and squeezed her hand. “I’m fine YN. I’ll be bruised but ok.” I pick up her hat and dust it off. I put it back on her head. “Thank you for checking on me.”  

“Anytime Cowboy.” I open the gate for her to get her out and close it.  Ransom takes YN’s hand and pulls her to the house, yelling about how she was going to make them late. I shake my head, knowing I can’t really do anything if I want to keep my job.  

Somehow, Mrs. YLN finds out about the incident and comes out to check on me. “Johnny Storm, front and center!” I hear her call out.  I smile because Mrs. YLN is the sweetest and loves all the guys on the ranch, but she has a particular sweet stop for me. I walk up to her, and she can see the bruise on my arm, but I guess I have a cut on my face. “Johnny! Go to the house and wash your face. I’ll be right there and I have apple pie for you.”  

“Yes ma’am.” I walked over to the house and went upstairs to the guest bathroom.  It’s where she kept the first aid. As I was washing, I heard loud voices coming from down the hall. I walked slowly and saw YN and Ransom arguing through the crack of her door.  

“I don’t know why you still hang out with that horse smelling farm hand?!” Ransom yelled.  

“He is a rancher and he’s my best friends. Johnny is a good guy.”  

“He’s some poor asshole…” 

“Stop it Ransom! He is my friend and you need to respect our friendship!” 

He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her next to him. “He wants what’s mine,” he growled at her. She turned away and gripped her chin to keep her eyes on him. “You’re going to tell him to leave you alone.”  

She sticks her chin up. “And if I don’t?” 

“You will regret it.”  He shoves her back and she hits her nightstand. I watch as her night light topples and breaks.  

I storm into the room. “Hey!” I push Ransom out of the way to reach YN. “YN, are you alright?” 

I can see the tears forming in her eyes. But they weren’t on me. They were on her lamp. “Johnny…” her voice quivers. She looks at me as one solitary tear fall from her eye. I can feel the rage building in me. I turn back to Ransom.  

“You son of a bitch! You hurt her.” I shoved him and he stumbled towards the door.  

“Fuck you asshole!” He took a swing at me but I managed to dodge it and get it a hit in his gut. It drops him, gasping for air.  

I grab YN’s hand and pull her from the room.  “C’mon YN!” I race down the stairs and out the back door. I run towards my bike and get the helmets. “Put this on, Cowgirl.”  

“Johnny, you know my father will be pissed!” 

“I don’t care. I can’t leave you with that monster.”  I turn to look at her as she plays with the straps of the helmet. “Do you want to stay with him?” She shakes her head. “Do you want to be with me, Cowgirl?” She looks at me, a soft blush blooming on her cheeks. I tuck a lock of hair. “Tell me.”  

“You’re my best friend.” The statement makes my heart sink and I drop my gaze. “But I’ve always wanted a chance with you.” I snap back up and she smiles.  She leans in and kisses me. Not like the first time, where it started soft and sweet.  This one urgent, lustful. I cup the back of her head to pin her to me. I lick the seam of her lips, asking her to let me in. She let me deepen the kiss and I was in heaven.  

When I heard yells coming from the house, I broke it and turned my head. “Baby, we have to go.” I shoved my helmet on and then helped YN, jumped on the bike, helped her up and gunned it out of the yard.  

I made it out to the lake and the boathouse on the other side of the county. YN’s family think she would go to my place or my family’s but I’m not an idiot. I pull into the yard and stopped, taking my first deep breath since she kissed me. I held out my hand to help YN off the bike.  She stood, watching down the dirt road. “Are we safe here Cowboy?” 

“We should be, Cowgirl. C’mon.” I opened the big dock door to hide my bike and walked us in. It was dusty and dark, but it was a safe place. I had my lighter and was able to light a couple of candles to see where we were going.  But not soon enough as I walked into a giant cobweb. “Fuck! Shit!” I yelled as I batted away the sticky strings.  

YN giggles as she watches before she screeches and runs towards me. “Johnny!” 

“Baby, what…” 

“I think I felt a snake!” 

I tried to hold my laugh. “Baby, there are no snakes by the water.”  I finally found the light switch and the room was illuminated with a soft golden glow.  I went to where she stood before and then let out a laugh.  “Was this your great snake?” I held up an old fishing rod with a feather lure at the end.  

“Shut up Johnny, it scared me!” She crossed her arms and pouted at me.  

I came up to her and caressed her face. “My beautiful girl. I’m sorry.” I kiss her forehead. “Want to sit on the dock?”  She nodded and I took her hand. 

The sun was setting across the water. YN sat at the edge of the dock and let her legs dangle over the water. I sat right behind her and wrapped her in my arms. We were quiet for a while, listening to the crickets and cicadas harmonize in the twilight. I kissed her cheek and then down to her neck and she leaned to give me access. “Do you know how long I wanted to hold you and kiss you like this?” I whispered to her.  

“Not as long as I have.” She turned to me and smiled.  “I wish I had the courage to spend more time with you when I was 15.”  

“Sweetheart, your father forbade all of us to try and be with his daughter. I was a scared 18-year-old and not in the right place to give you what you deserved.” I kissed her nose before I kissed her properly. We went back to watching the sky turn from blue to yellow to orange to pink and then purple. “Why were you dating that guy? What did he have?” 

“I don’t know. Daddy introduced us and he took an interest.” She looks down at the water. “It was the day after I saw you in town with Sharon Carter. I thought,” she shook her head, “I thought that you really didn’t like me and then I just wanted to move on.”  

I know what day she is talking about.  It was the day Susie had set me up on a blind date. We met for a coffee in town, but Sharon told me from the beginning that she had feelings for someone else. We chatted about her horse, and she asked I could come train him. I explained this to YN. “I declined because I had just started working on Torch.” I caressed her cheek. “I didn’t want to take away my time from you.” 

She looked up at me, her beautiful eyes studying me. I could get lost in them. She turned and straddled my lap, her sundress riding up. Fuck, why had she already changed before her confrontation with Ransom. Did that dick get to see her naked? I shook the thoughts from my mind as I gripped her hips as she settled into my lap, making sure that she doesn’t tip back into the lake. Her arms are looped around my neck. She doesn’t say anything, not a single word or noise.  She just keeps those eyes on me, staring at me like a painting. Finally, she leans down and kisses me. I follow her lead, just like I would follow her anywhere if she asked me. Her fingers tangle into my hair as my hands splayed across her back and neck.  

I can feel her warmth right over my cock. I can feel myself growing harder under her as she begins to move over me. She’s grinding that pussy into me and I know I will lose it if I don’t stop it.  I try to still her but she keeps moving.  She lets go of my mouth to start kissing my neck and working the buttons of my shirt. “Baby, baby, stop,” I finally say. She pulls back, a look of hurt crossing her face. “No, baby, I just don’t want to do this here. I don’t want anyone to see you in pleasure besides me.” I grip under her ass as I move to lift her in my arms and carry her to the bedroom in the boathouse.  

You would think the room would be dusty and dirty, but it wasn’t.  I had been hiding out here on and off for the last few years. My father wasn’t a good man and I didn’t stick around when he started drinking.  My mom had left a few years before and Suzy lived with Reed so I was on my own. But I made the best of it. The bed had a clean quilt and everything was dusted and swept.  I even cleaned the bathroom.  

I laid my girl on the bed, slotting my hips in between her legs. I kissed her hard, fuck, I wanted her so bad. But I didn’t want her to think that this was all I wanted.  I slowed our kisses. “Johnny?” 

“I don’t want you to think that I just want this, Cowgirl. I’m in love with your fire, your spirit, your compassion, well, just you. Everything you.” I swallowed. “If you don’t want to do this, I understand, and we’ll wait.” I looked away for just a second before she used a finger to push me back into her eyesight.  

“Johnny Storm, I have been waiting for you for three years.”  

My eyes widen. “Are you...” She nods and looks away. I pull her gaze back. “Baby, are you sure?” 

“You belong to me Johnny, just like I belong to you.”  

I swallow. “We’ll go slow, ok? If I hurt you, just let me know and we’ll stop.” She nods and kisses me. I pull back. “I need your words, YN.”  

“I trust you Johnny.”  

I got up to my knees, still in between her legs and I started to unbutton my shirt. She watched me with big eyes, still unsure but never letting go. When I pulled it off, a soft gasp came from her mouth. That made me smirk. I pulled her up to me, sitting her. I tugged at the bottom of her pretty little sundress and pulled it over her head. I groaned at the site of her in just pink lace. I guided her back down to the bed and started to kiss every inch of skin I could find.  

YN sighed. I slid the pink strap of her bra down her shoulders and arms, kissing her skin as I went. I kissed the tops of her breasts and then pulled a cup down to take the peaked nipple in my mouth.  I nibbled and sucked as YN arched her back at the sensation.  “Johnny,” she moaned. Fuck, listening to my name come from her lips almost sent me over the edge. I moved to the other one while a pinched and twisted the first. I released her and then unclipped the offending fabric.  

I kept moving down, skimming her skin with my fingertips and my lips as she squirmed underneath me. I got to her lace pants and kissed her covered mound, inhaling her scent. “Dammit baby, you smell like heaven. Can I taste you?” 

She was silent and I lifted my head to see tears. “Baby?” 

“I’m scared. What if you don’t like me?” The sound of her uncertainty, her fear, broke my heart.  

“Oh, sweetheart.” I went back to hover over her. “I know that you will be the best taste I’ve ever had. The best partner I could ever ask for.” I let my hands wander as caress over the hem of her panties. “I promise, I’ll make you feel good.”  

She peered up at me and smiled. “Ok.”  

Such a simple little word can bring the heat in my veins. I kiss her softly again as I slide my hand into her panties.  I swallow her cry as tease her slit. “So wet, Cowgirl. For me?” 

She nods. “Is that a good thing?” 

“That’s an amazing thing.” I dip into her tight hole. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” She rolls her hips in time to the thrust of my hand, seeking my touch. “You like that YN?”  She nods again as she lets go of another low moan. My cock is straining behind my Wranglers, desperate to get out and play with the woman underneath me.  I stroke one more time and then bring my finger to my mouth.  She jaw drops at suck her cream from my finger.  “I knew you would taste good.” 

I don’t give her the chance this time.  I pull down her panties off her legs and stuff them in my pocket. “Johnny...” she started but soon she moaned as I licked my way up her slit. I kissed, sucked and teased her clit, finger fucked her until she was withering under me. “Give it to me Cowgirl. Let go.” 

“I can’t,” she cried, “Johnny, I...” 

“Its ok, let go for me, my love.”  

She cried as her orgasm took over, her body shook and her pussy strangled my fingers. I kept it gentle, knowing that this was the first one but certainly not the last. I could she her coming down so I gently pulled my fingers away. I licked my finger clean and then undid my jeans. “Are you ready for me Cowgirl?” I pulled my jeans and boxers off and fished a condom from my wallet.  

Her eyes were big. “Cowboy, that is not going to fit.”  

I gave her a sexy smirk. “We’ll make it fit.” I rolled it on and then slowly climbed back on top of her. I slotted my hips between her legs and kissed her hard and deep.  My cock seeks out the warmth of her pussy and notched at her entrance. “Ready?” 

“Yes. Please be gentle,” she whispered.  

“Always, Cowgirl.” I pushed in softly, groaning at how hot and tight she is. “Oh fuck, baby.” Her nails dug into my back but I didn’t focus on the pain. I pushed until I felt resistance. “I’m sorry baby but this will hurt. I promise it’ll feel good after.” I thrusted hard and she screamed. I held her too me as she thrashed her head, sobbing.  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry love.”  

“Johnny!” She cried. It took a few minutes, but she calmed, and I move slightly. She moaned at the feel of my cock in her. “I feel so full,” she moaned.  

“That’s good, love. I’m going to move, ok?” She nodded and I withdrew gently, seeing her wince. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No, no, I just,” she swallowed. “It's so much.”  

“I know. Just let your body feel.”  I withdrew until the head of my cock was the only piece in her and thrusted back in gently. Her head tossed back with a moan. I did that a few more time until I heard her say, “more.” I sped up my movements, pulling her leg over my hip to open her up a bit more.  

“Oh fuck, Cowboy, right there. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” She buried her head in my neck as I pumped into her.  

“I won’t stop until you give me another Cowgirl.” I moved my hand and used my finger to circle her clit.  She cried out more and I circled a little faster. I started to feel the sensation in my spine and I knew I was close.  “Fuck, tell me you’re close, Cowgirl.” 

“So close,” she moaned. I moved faster. My hips slamming into her, my finger pressing her little button of pleasure faster and harder. Her cry changed and I started to recognize it.  

“Come for me,” I ordered. That’s all it took as she detonated around me, squeezing me, milking me, triggering my own release into her. I slowed, both breathing hard. “Are you ok?” I was scared I hurt her with how hard I had been fucking her.  

“I’m great,” she said with a smile. “I get it now, what all my romance books talked about. It does feel like the best ride.”  

I laughed with her. I pulled out gently, knowing it would hurt. She winced but cupped my cheek to let me know she was ok.  There was a little blood on the condom and blanket but I didn’t make her feel bad. I got another blanket to cover her while I took the other one away. I threw away the condom and took a washcloth to her. She jumped when I touched her, but I knew it was just because of how sensitive she had become. I climbed back into bed with her and hauled her into my arms. She rested her head on my chest. “Johnny?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.”  

“I love you, Cowgirl. Get some rest.” I kissed her head and smoothed down her hair. I fell asleep to her rhythmic breaths against me.  

I was sleeping with an angel in heaven.  

Muted sunlight filters in as I lay on my back, stroking my girl’s hair as she sleeps in the early morning. I think about the last three years, pining after the girl in my arms.  She wasn’t ready for me then. But now that I have her, I’ll never let her go.  

She starts to stir and wake. She stretches a little before looking up at me. “Hi.”  

“Hi Cowgirl. How are you feeling?” 

She smiles softly. “A little sore. But happy.” I lean to kiss her. Her eyes flutter as they open again.  “Good morning, Cowboy.”  

“This is the best way to start the day, my beautiful Cowgirl.”  I kiss her again when I hear a beep from somewhere. I reach down for my jeans and fish my phone from the pocket. There was a text message from her father 

Mr. YLN: Please bring my daughter home. 

I sighed and looked at my girl. “It’s time sweetheart.”  

She frowned but nodded. As we dressed, I gave YN a pair of my boxer briefs to wear since I tore her panties. It gave me a boost knowing she was wearing my underwear under her dress.  I cleaned up, feeling like I would be back living here soon since I would probably lose my job. But I had a feeling, I would still have YN.  

The ride back was quiet. I didn’t know what we would be walking into. Would her father try and kill me because I took his daughter and took her innocence? Would he press charges? I knew I would be facing something I just didn’t know what.  

We pulled into the driveway and went right up to the house. I helped YN off and took her helmet. “You know I love you right?”  

She nodded but her face was nervous. “I know. I love you too. We do this together?” I took her hand.  

“Together.”  

We walked up the steps to her house. I knocked and the door immediately opened. Her mother answered. “YN. Johnny.” She looked down at our joined hands and smiled. She waved us into the living room where Mr. YLN and Random were waiting for us.  

“Mr. YLN. Mr. Drysdale.” I hated that I had to greet that fucker. I remembered yesterday and how he had pushed my girl. I remember seeing the bruise on her side. I had kissed the pain away when I worshipped her body but I would never forgive him for marking her.  

“Johnny, YN, I’m happy you came back.” He looked at our hands and then back at his daughter. “What were you thinking YN? You ran away from our home with our ranch hand without explanation. Your mother and I have been worried sick. If I hadn’t checked the cameras…” 

YN gripped my hand tighter and then interrupted her father. “I ran away because I didn’t feel safe in my own home.”  

The look of disbelief crossed her father's face. “What? What is that supposed to mean?” 

“You didn’t look in her room, did you?” I asked.  

“No. Ransom was in the living room and said you ran away with the farm boy after you had assaulted him.”  

I scoffed. “That’s rich. We’re not on a farm jackass,” I directed to Ransom. “We are a ranch. But that’s beside the point. The reason for the assault was because I was protecting YN from him. He was yelling at her, making her cry and then he shoved her into her nightstand and broke her horse lamp.”  

My words had the power to stop time. Ransom’s face turned red from rage as her father's face blanched. I could see what he was thinking. The man she introduced to his daughter was a monster.  

“You have no proof, farm boy!”  

“I’ve seen the bruises you asshole. I held her as she cried for the last reminder of her best friend that she had because you broke it.” 

Action was swift. Mr. YLN grabbed Ransom around the collar. “You put your hands on my daughter?!” Ransom gapped like a fish. “You thought you could lie to me. I know your grandfather and believe you me that he will hear about this. Get out of my house and off my property you worthless piece of shit.” Mr. YLN cocked his arm back and punched Ransom square in the jaw. He fell in a pile to the floor and grabbed his face.  

I helped him up and threw him out the door. “You fucked with the wrong girl Drysdale.”  

“She was mine!” He yelled back. “I will end you!”  

“Guess what? She was never yours. She was always mine. She belongs to me, and I belong to her. And you can just fuck off.”  

I went back inside and faced her father. “She’s yours?” 

“Sir, I have been in love with your daughter since the day I met her. I just wanted to wait until she knew that I was hers. I love her, sir, with everything I have.”  

There is nothing like riding a horse. The freedom, the raw power, there is nothing like it. Especially when you girl is holding onto you as you ride the horse you trained together.  

It was nearing dusk, the sky changing to it’s beautiful pinks and reds and purples. I had ridden out to the lake on the opposite side of the boathouse. When I got to the water’s edge I stopped and helped YN down before I got down. It had been six months since the confrontation with Ransom. And they had been the happiest six months of my life. We walked along the edge, listening to the sounds of the coming eve, Torch neighing. I was nervous.  

“Baby, why are you trembling?” My Cowgirl stopped me and had a look of concern in her eyes.  

“Sorry, I just…” I cleared my throat. “I just have something to ask you. Do you love me?” 

“More every day.”  

“Do I make you happy?” 

“I’m the happiest girl in the world.”  

“Ok good. Because I’ve never been so happy YN and that’s all because of you. And I never want to let go of that happiness. So…” I pulled the box from my pocket and knelt to one knee. “My Cowgirl, will you marry me?” 

I opened the box to show off a modest pear-shaped diamond on a gold band. It had been all I could afford but her father said I could upgrade later since I’d be the ranch manager soon.  

“Johnny,” she gasped. “Yes, she whispered, Cowboy, yes!” 

I put that ring on her finger and lifted her into my arms.  

After all this time, she saw that I was the one who understood her, who got her, who loved her.  

She belonged to me.  

I belonged to her.  

Forever.  

Taglist:

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@before-we-get-started

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[k-evans-reads]

Built To Last

A collection of drabbles about Nora, a quiet small town bookstore owner and what happens when a charismatic carpenter comes to build some new shelves in her shop.

MAIN MASTERLIST Drabbles:

Meeting

Book Rec

Bold and Adventurous

First Date

Why Carpentry?

Valentine’s Day - Part 1 - Part 2

The Kiss

That Doesn’t Belong

Being Yours

A New Dresser

Book Rec Part 2

Interrogation

I Love You

Morning Kiss

Airport

You’re Bleeding

Moving Boxes

The Firing Squad

The Fever

Summer Heat

Fatherly Approval

4th of July

Breakfast

[babyjakes]

alpha!ari knotting and breeding you… pumping into you with his thick dick as he bounces your tiny little omega body up and down over his length, using you like his own little cocksleeve… flipping you over on your hands and knees, yanking you by the hips to get your ass up in the air… grabbing you by the waist and thrusting back inside of you, toying with your tight little ass as he fucks you, using just the tip of his finger to make you squeal and squirm… bringing one of his big hands down under you to pinch and roll your poor little clit between his fingers… encouraging you to cum for him, “that’s a good little pup. c’mon, baby. squeeze daddy’s dick— there you go. that’s it, puppy.”… grabbing you and slamming his hips against you as he spills inside of you, panting heavily over you as you feel him pulsating inside of you.. “fuck, baby. just like that. take daddy’s load so well, who’s my good girl, huh? such a pretty little fuck-puppy. all fucking mine.”

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Boston Bears: Off-Limits - Rugby Player!Chris x Reader (Part 10)

Summary: After the eventful weekend that was the championship final, you and Chris talk about your relationship and attend the end-of-season party together as a couple. But will everything be okay with your dad?

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Fluff! Angst! Mention of Panic Attacks! Language! SMUT! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI!

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 10

It was late at night that the hospital discharged Chris, he was still so drowsy from the painkillers that he slept the entire car journey back to his house. You sat in the back with Chris as Lisa drove the both of you. You and Lisa had tried to get Chris to sit in the front, but despite being pretty out of it, he was adamant that he wanted to be next to you. So you sat in the back, right next to him holding his hand as he rested his head against yours. 

Scott was waiting for the three of you when you got to the house “Thought you two might struggle to get a 6ft rugby player into the bed” he reasoned as he helped get the semi awake Chris out of the car. 

You watched nervously as Scott draped Chris’ uninjured arm over his shoulder and patted him on the cheek to wake him up a bit more before helping him to the door which Lisa had already opened.

Thankfully between the three of you, you managed to get Chris into bed without hurting him any more than he already was. He was snoring before his head hit the pillow, you didn’t blame him, it had been a long day and he didn’t even know the half of it.

“I can look after him, you guys get some rest it’s pretty late” you sighed glancing at the clock to see it was past midnight.

“Are you sure? He can be a pretty awful patient” Lisa warned with a small smirk.

You gave her a small chuckle “I don’t doubt that, but I’m good I wouldn’t be a good medic or…” you started before realising that you still didn’t know exactly what you were to Chris “Um if I didn’t stick around” you finished.

“Okay but I’ll leave my number in case you need to call for backup” she smiled softly, putting her hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you” you smiled.

Once Lisa and Scott left you set about getting yourself ready for bed because you were exhausted, mentally and physically. You found the spare toothbrush you always used on the occasion you stayed here and one of Chris’ tops to sleep in. You then grabbed a glass of water and the meds the doctor prescribed for Chris ready for when he needed them before carefully climbing into bed next to him.

You let out a long sigh as you rested your cheek into your hand against the pillow and just watched Chris as he slept. Today had felt so long, it didn’t seem right that the call you had with Tommi had only been that morning. So much had changed and happened since then. You now knew you loved Chris and that he loved you too. Your dad knew about you and Chris. Chris now had 1 less working shoulder thanks to Bryce. 

Yet there were still so many unanswered questions. Would you and your Dad be okay? What would he say when he’s finally ready to talk? What’s next for you and Chris? Would you be in a committed relationship? Were you already in one since you admitted how you both felt?

It was enough to make your head hurt. 

You rolled onto your back and stared up at the ceiling, your mind too wired to fall asleep. A blue glow then lit up the room as your phone buzzed on the bedside table. You instantly grabbed it hoping it was your dad texting to say everything was okay. After your mom's passing, he never liked going to bed still mad. 

You sighed in disappointment when you saw Tommi’s name instead.

Tommi: I understand you’re probably busy following what happened to Chris but please check in to say you’re alive and okay

Tommi had texted you during the match after she found out what happened to Chris, but you hadn’t found the time to get back to her.

You: sorry, alive but not sure about okay

Tommi: is Chris okay?

You: he’ll be okay, got a broken collarbone and dislocated shoulder but he’s fast asleep and high on painkillers next to me so all good

Tommi: that’s good, it looked really nasty 

Your eyebrows rose in surprise.

You: you watched?

Tommi: no, saw a clip online, you looked really shaken.

You: it was horrific, but that’s just the start of it…

Tommi: Okay, what else happened

You spent the next half an hour or so texting with Tommi telling her everything that had gone down. Feeling much better for getting it off your chest.

Tommi: I’m sorry that shit with your dad must really suck, but focus on the positives. You love Chris and he loves you, I’m sure as soon as he’s awake and not high he’ll ask you to be his girlfriend, he probably already considers you his girlfriend

You: I hope so

Tommi: and don’t worry about your dad, you guys are so close you’ll work it out, it’s probably just a big shock that he needs to get his head around first

You: yeah, I just hate being in an argument with him

Tommi: I know but it’ll be fine I promise, now get some rest I know it’s really late on the East Coast

You: I will thank you for being here for me

Tommi: I’ll always be here

Tommi: before you go 

Tommi: what happened to Ari? I saw he got into a brawl following the tackle

You let out a small huff of laughter, shaking your head, Tommi clearly didn’t dislike Ari as much as she said.

You: he’s fine, a split lip and knuckles but Bryce saw the worst of it

Tommi: glad to hear it

You smiled softly, wondering if she was glad to hear about Ari or Bryce as you put your phone away. You rolled back over to face Chris and watched him again, smiling to yourself as you looked at the man you loved. Falling asleep soon after.

To your relief, you didn’t wake in the night with one of your panic attacks like you expected you would. Instead, you woke up to the sound of Chris groaning and shifting beside you.

You woke with a start as soon as you heard him, a quick glance at the time told you it was 10 am so at least he managed to sleep through the night too. You looked over at him to see he was definitely in some discomfort as he woke.

“Hey, you alright? Do you want some painkillers?” You asked sitting up.

Chris blinked a couple of times before rubbing his eyes with one hand “Oh hey” he muttered before glancing around and frowning “I don’t remember coming home”

You chuckled softly “I’m not surprised, you were half asleep and pretty out of it thanks to the painkillers they gave you at the hospital” you explained as you helped him sit up, as you grabbed the painkillers and water for him you started to worry that maybe he didn’t remember anything from the hospital “do you remember much?” You asked as you passed him the painkillers.

Chris swallowed back the painkillers and down half of the glass before speaking “Um not too much” he admitted “I remember waking up on the pitch in agony but then it was a blur, then I remember being in the hospital with Ma” he recalled before a lopsided grin grew on his face “I remember you telling me you love me if that’s what you’re asking”

You bit your lip to hold back a smile before ultimately failing “Maybe”

“Um I also remember a nurse hitting on me but I told her to back off because I love you instead” he recalled looking proud of himself.

You laughed dropping your head “Chris…” you started.

“Yeah?”

“That nurse was me,” you told him.

He blinked a couple of times before laughing himself “Oh shit I really was out of it, I don’t remember anything else, did anyone else visit besides you and Ma?”

“Ah” you muttered nibbling your lower lip “my dad was there with me too”

“Oh” Chris hummed in surprise, his face falling with realisation a second later “Oh”

“Yeah….” You said slowly knowing what conclusion Chris has reached.

He ran his hand down his face “shit Y/N I’m so sorry I had no clue…. Did he take it well?”

You shifted slightly recalling exactly what went down “It’s okay you don’t have to apologise he worked it out before you admitted it,” you told him, Chris furrowed his brows in confusion “The mic to my radio pack was on so the entire coaching and medical team heard me call you sweetheart and you call me babe, after the match he pulled me into his office to get some answers” 

Chris reached out to take your hand, this thumb running back and forth soothingly “I’m guessing that didn’t go well” 

You took a deep breath “No he said I was stupid for dating another rugby player after Bryce especially after he told you guys I was off limits, I told him that you were different, that I’d told you stuff about Bryce that I hadn’t even told him and that I loved you” you told him “he told me it was still a mistake and that I should end things before you hurt me and I agreed”

Chris blinked a couple of times “Wait hold up are you-“ he started, panic clear in his voice.

“No, no, no I’m not I promise, I’m not gonna end things, not now, not ever” you promised him making Chris breathe out a deep sigh of relief “I actually want us to be more… serious… a real committed relationship,” you said hesitantly.

Chris smiled “Good, because I want that too, I have for a while” he admitted “What changed? Why didn’t you end it like you promised?”

You smiled softly “You told me you loved me, he said he couldn’t expect me to end things now, but I think he’s still mad at me,” you said your smile dropping, “he told me to leave him alone until he was ready to talk” you sighed.

Chris sighed sympathetically “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I wished this all came out differently”

“It’s okay… I just hope me and my dad will be okay, I hate fighting with him” you sighed.

“I know, but we’ll work it out, I bet by the end-of-season dinner in a couple of weeks you’ll be back to normal” Chris promised.

“You think so?” You asked, uncertain.

Chris smiled softly “I know so, now c’mere I wanna hold the woman I love” he said holding out his arm.

You chuckled as you shifted closer into his embrace careful not to accidentally hurt him. Chris pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head as he held you close.

A few minutes of peaceful silence passed when Chris suddenly asked “Where’s Dodger?” 

“Oh he’s at your sister’s, your mom thought it would be better so he didn’t jump up and hurt you while you were still out of it” you explained.

He nodded “Probably for the best, can we pick him up later though?”

“I can probably ask your mom or Scott to bring him around now if you want?” You offered.

“That would be nice, but I want to celebrate the win with you, my gorgeous girlfriend, first” he smirked.

You instantly caught on to what he meant, tilting your head “I’m not sure that's a good idea with your shoulder” you point out.

Chris smirked as he climbed out of bed and turned to face you “As the playmaker I know how to get inventive” You watched as he knelt down on his knees beside the bed “Now lose your underwear, and sit here” he smirked patting the edge of the bed in front of him.

You bit your lower lip, part of you knew it was a bad idea but a much larger part really wanted it too. Chris was a drug and even if you knew better, you were hooked.

You quickly did as you were told and moved to where Chris wanted you, spreading your legs wide so he had enough space and wouldn’t risk bumping his shoulder against you. You watched as his tongue poked out to wet his lips as he looked up at you with hooded eyes. The look of Chris between your thighs was one of your favourite sights, and from this vantage point, it looked spectacular.

Chris leant in and started pressing wet kisses up your thighs, switching back and forth, making the journey painfully slow. You were arching for him already and couldn’t wait for him to get to the end destination. 

When his lips finally ghosted over your core you let out a breathy gasp, leaning back on your hands as your back arched. Chris groaned in response before diving in like a man starved, using the arm he could use to pull you closer.

“Fuck Chris” you moaned, a hand moving to his head, fingers running through his hair as this beard scratched your inner thighs.

“God I love you” he moaned against you.

“I love-“ you started but you cut yourself off with a loud moan as your orgasm rolled through your body.

Chris worked you through it, not letting up until you had collapsed onto your back. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, you looked over when the mattress dipped beside you. Chris smiled back at you lazily as he lay beside you.

You rolled over to face him, pushing up onto your elbow “I love you too” you finished as you leant down to kiss him.

As much as you wanted Chris to be right and for your dad to get in contact with you before the end-of-season party, he didn’t. Chris tried to reassure you and encouraged you to make contact first but you refused. Your dad barely asked you for anything, the least you could do was give him the time he asked for. Even if it did hurt you.

You were standing doing Chris’ tie for him but you were struggling to focus only able to snap into the present when Chris put his hand over yours “What’s wrong sweetheart?” He asked softly.

I sighed looking down at the floor “I’m not sure I should go tonight” you admitted.

Chris cupped your cheek and tilted your head back so you were looking up at him “It’s gonna be okay” he reassured you.

“No it’s going to be awkward and awful, I’m supposed to be sitting next to him” you pointed out with a sigh.

When the end-of-season party was planned you and Chris were still a secret so he said no to a plus one and you were placed next to your dad on the seating plan.

“Maybe he’s waiting to talk to you then, he might think you’re upset with him too” Chris suggested, shrugging his uninjured shoulder.

“He won’t want to talk about this sort of thing in public” you said with a shake of your head, your dad was a private man who hated being the centre of attention.

“Maybe we can do a little bit of seat swapping” he suggested.

“I dunno it’s a lot of hassle for my sake” you sighed “I should just-“

Chris leant down and shut you up with a kiss “Nothing is a hassle when it comes to you” he said “Look we might be overthinking the whole thing so let’s put this gorgeous dress to use” he said nodding down at the blue dress you wore “we’ll go, we’ll sit where we’re told to sit and if you need to move, you come straight to me and we’ll sort it out, you can sit on my lap if you really want” he suggested wiggling his eyebrows.

You sighed and nibbled your lip in thought before glancing up at him. He gave you a pleading look with puppy dog eyes that could rival Dodger’s and before you knew it your resolve was melting away.

“Okay, hopefully it won’t be as bad as we think” you relented.

Chris grinned as he dipped down to kiss you “Perfect, I can’t wait to show you off as mine”

You chucked “Well let’s get this tie sorted first” you said returning your attention back to his tie “There we go, perfectly handsome” you grinned smoothing it down.

“Thank you sweetheart, you’re definitely the best and sexiest nurse I’ve had” he smirked making you roll your eyes.

The car soon arrived to take you to the hotel where the end-of-season party was being held. Chris wasn’t going to be drinking because of his painkillers but he couldn’t drive either. You had offered to drive but Chris said you should celebrate too.

You couldn’t help but smile when the two of you walked in hand in hand, you didn’t realise how refreshing it would be to not have to hide anymore. You could show the world just how much you loved Chris.

Chris guided you through the room towards the table he was supposed to be sitting at, as you went you glanced around to see if your dad was here yet but you hadn’t spotted him. You did spot Sam and the other ticket office mean girls who were all glaring daggers at you, something that made you smirk to yourself.

When you got to the table Chris was given a warm greeting by Jensen, Johnny, and Ari. Even Curtis gave him a gentle pat on his uninjured shoulder.

“Good to see you cap” Ari smiled “Can I get you a drink?”

Chris shook his head “Can’t, painkillers, Y/N will have a beer though” 

“On it” Ari winked before moving off towards the bar. 

Johnny walked over to you with a smile “Looking hot Y/N I’m almost regretting not getting to you before Evans did” he smirked.

“Back off Storm” Chris warned pulling you closer into his side. 

You rolled your eyes at Chris’ possessiveness, even if you did secretly love it.

“Careful storm we’ve already seen what he did to Langley” Ari said as he returned and passed you your drink. 

“He had it coming” Chris grumbled “Still does, he better look out the next time we play the Lions”

“I think we’ve all decided to hit him hard next time, nobody gets away with illegally tackling our captain” Jensen promised, Curtis grunted in agreement. 

“Just keep it legal, you guys cause the medical team enough headaches as is” you chuckled.

As the guys kept chatting you glanced around and finally spotted your dad. He was stood talking to Andy, hands deep in his trouser pockets as he nodded along to whatever Andy was saying. You hoped that he would look over but he didn’t. Your fists clenched by your side, you bet he knew you were looking over, your dad always had a good sense for that sort of thing, and yet he was still clearly angry enough to completely ignore you.

“Looks like they want us all to sit down” Jensen said nodding over to the hotel staff who were getting ready to bring the food out. 

You swallowed nervously “I better get to my seat then” you muttered.

“It’ll be fine” Chris promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Where you going? Your seat is right here” Johnny said as you went to step away.

“No I’m supposed to sit with my dad” you sighed gesturing over your shoulder with your thumb.

“No look,” Johnny said lifting up one of the name tags “You’re here between Chris and Ari”

“Oh” you muttered unsure what to think. 

“That’s a good sign,” Chris said as the two of you sat down “Maybe he’s okay with me and you” 

“Or a really bad one, what if the idea of just sitting next to me was too much to bear” you pointed out with a heavy sigh. 

You glanced over your shoulder again towards your dad who now had Andy sat next to him instead of you. He finally looked over at you, his expression unreadable as he looked away again. You let out a heavy sigh as you turned back around. 

“Don’t let this spoil your evening” Chris murmured as he leant in and whispered in your ear “This whole evening is supposed to be a celebration”

You nodded your head “I’ll try” you sighed. 

“That’s all I can ask for” Chris smiled softly as he kissed the side of your head. 

The dinner was soon served which gave you a good distraction from everything, especially since you couldn’t help but chuckle at how quickly the boys all devoured their meals. You wouldn’t blame anyone for thinking they had been starved but you knew this was just how they were. Chris was the only one who was a bit slower since he only had one arm to work with.

In between courses, you noticed Ari looking down at his lap with a deep frown on his face. More specifically he was frowning at his phone which he was keeping mostly out of sight underneath the table. 

“Everything okay?” You asked quietly.

He quickly pocketed his phone and looked over at you “All good” he said with a lopsided grin that didn’t meet his eyes.

“Ari-“ you started, knowing something wasn’t right.

“I have to say I’m glad you guys are finally out in the open, we were all wondering when the secret would get out” he interrupted making your jaw drop.

“You knew?” You gasped quickly looking over at Chris who looked just as shocked. At least that meant he wasn’t the one who squealed “Johnny!” You complained.

Johnny held his hands up “I didn’t say anything I swear!” He defended.

“We all worked it out, you guys were pretty subtle but we weren’t oblivious” Jensen explained.

“Yeah I saw you whispering sweet nothing during our lunch” Ari smirked.

“Thought you were too busy getting shot down to notice” Chris shot back, making Ari’s brows flatten.

“I was not shot down” he grumbled. 

“Wait did all of you guys seriously know this entire time?” You asked pointing around at all of them “Even you Curtis?” You asked when you realised he hadn’t said anything.

Curtis let out an offended grunt “You really thought I fell for your excuse in LA?”

Chris groaned pinching the bridge of his nose and shook his head, while you pursed your lips together remembering the rambling mess Chris had become when Curtis caught him leaving your room.

“Even Andy knew” Johnny chucked.

Your eyes bulged, you assumed he found out at the same time as your dad. Not that he already knew “what?” You squeaked.

“He grilled us on it when your dad wasn’t around one gym session, he wasn’t initially pleased considering the warning your dad gave us but he said he’d keep it quiet since Chris was playing better than ever and he wasn’t gonna screw with that” Jensen explained.

“Really?” Chris asked surprised.

“We’re superstitious guys, we weren’t gonna mess with your new good luck charm,” Ari said shrugging his shoulders.

“Well thanks, I thought we were hiding it pretty well” Chris chuckled shaking his head.

“You guys were so obvious! I mean you couldn’t take your eyes off her!” Johnny laughed.

“Don’t forget that water bottle stunt” Ari pointed out. 

“And ditching us at the bar” Jensen added.

You sat back in your chair shaking your head in disbelief as the three of them continued to rattle off times you had been less than discrete. Even Curtis chimed in occasionally. Had you really been that obvious? You were surprised that you hadn’t been caught earlier if that was the case.

You looked over at Chris who looked just as shocked and dumbfounded as you. Your eyes met and before you knew it you were laughing and you couldn’t stop. The absurdity of it all sinking in. Maybe you should have been straight up and honest with your dad from the beginning, it was a miracle it took him so long to notice.

Eventually, the guys all calmed down and the conversation moved away from you and Chris. Just in time for the meal to end and the ceremony part of the dinner to start. Which began with your dad giving a speech to everyone, you watched as he got up from his seat and walked over to the small stage and lectern. The championship trophy on a pedestal next to him, along with the other awards that would go out tonight.

Your dad let out a long almost dramatic like sigh as he rested his hands on the edge of the lectern and shook his head “Well that match was one hell of a way to end the season, took me back to the good old days” he started earning a low chuckle from everyone “this season didn’t start well, we were on the back foot a lot of the time, after Christmas break we came back fighting but the scoreboard was still a lot closer than I would have liked but then something changed in the spring” he said his gaze shifting to you for a split second “and all of sudden we weren’t just winning, we were blazing ahead” 

He chuckled to himself when Johnny called out “hell yeah! Never count the bears out” he hooted.

Your dad looked over at the trophy next to him before speaking again “I want to thank everyone here in this room for getting us this, you all played a part no matter how small of a part it was, its was game changing, I know if it wasn’t for you guys the boys would just be a bunch of guys running around and not a team” he continued earning another laugh “And boys” he said directly to the team “I think of you lot like family, like my sons, even if you do cause me enough stress to go grey” he chuckled running his hand through his hair which had yet to go grey just yet “but I am extremely proud of you all, you deserved this win more than anyone else in the league” he smiled pausing as everyone applauded the team “it’s a testiment to how well you work as a team that even when you lose your leader in the first 15 minutes of a match, you powered on” he continued nodding to Chris “and since he spent the rest of the day high on painkillers I would like to invite our captain up to finally lift the trophy” 

Chris’ eyes widen slightly as you exchanged a glance. You gave him an encouraging nod, despite everything with your dad you weren’t gonna stop him from having this moment.

Chris cleared his throat as he stood up from his seat and made his way towards the stage. When he got there he shook your dad’s hand but you could see the nervousness and tension in his shoulders.

“Chris you are a player and man that I admire, this win was a testament to your leadership,” your dad said making Chris’ head dip bashfully “When I watch you play it makes me wish I wasn’t retired and playing alongside you because what you do with that ball is magical” he continued shaking his head with a warm smile on his face “I’ve coached you since we were a kid just out of the academy, I’ve watched you grow from a party animal that could rival Storm to a well-rounded gentleman who I would trust with my most precious possession”

“Should I be offended?” Johnny muttered but you weren’t paying any attention to him.

You were too busy listening intently to your dad, biting your lower lip to stop it from wobbling. 

“Speaking of which, should we lift this bad boy together?” He asked Chris nodding to the trophy. 

Chris smiled, glancing out at you before nodding his head. Both you and him knew that your dad didn’t mean the trophy. He meant you. Despite not hearing from him in two weeks, this was him giving his blessing. Everything was going to be okay.

“It would be my honour sir” Chris smiled before moving to stand one side of the trophy. 

Your dad stood on the other side “Drum roll please” he said.

The entire room filled with the sound of people drumming their hands against their legs and the tables. The silverware and glasses clattering. All culminating in a large cheer when Chris and your dad lifted the trophy above their heads. The room exploded, the rest of the team jumping up from their seats and cheering loudly like they would on the pitch, you joining them. 

You were laughing and clapping as loud as you could, letting out a few cheers too. Your voice not completely cooperating since you were trying and failing to stop yourself from crying happy tears. Chris’ eyes met yours from across the room, he smiled brightly back at you before mouthing ‘I love you’ to you. 

You were wiping away your tears as they put the trophy back down and before you knew it he was rushing over to you. He wrapped his arm around you and tilted you back as best as he could before kissing you deeply. You smiled into the kiss, one arm wrapped around his shoulders to keep you steady while your other hand cupped his cheek. 

“You’re the best trophy” he murmured against your lips.

The next thing on the agenda was the awards ceremony. Chris walked away with the player’s player award something that wasn’t that surprising following your conversation earlier and the fact that he often gave away his man of the match medal. It was once that was done and the party really started that your dad made his way over to you and asked if you could talk. 

You squeezed Chris' hand reassuringly before following your dad. He led you out of the main function room and to a balcony that gave you a gorgeous view of Boston Harbour. 

The two of you stood there for a moment in silence, just admiring the view. All you could hear was the waves crashing against the harbour walls and the clinking of metal. It reminded you of all the times your dad would bring you here as a kid, watching all the boats go in and out. Munching away at a pretzel or an ice cream. 

“I need to apologise” your dad started as he turned to face you. 

“No I do” you said shaking your head “I should have told you much sooner that I was dating Chris I-“ you continued. 

“I should never have said you were off-limits” your dad interrupted “and I shouldn’t have said all the things I said after the match or at the hospital”

“It’s okay you were angry, we all say things we don’t mean when we’re angry” you reassured him with a gentle shake of your head.

“I wasn’t angry, shocked but not angry” he said making your lips part in surprise.

“I thought you were angry, you said to leave you alone” you muttered shaking your head in confusion.

Your dad looked back at you apologetically “I’m sorry, I… I had a lot to process and a lot of emotions to deal with and I’m sorry it took so long I did swing by your apartment before coming here but you weren’t in” he sighed.

You nodded your head unable to think of anything to say.

“Look” your dad sighed “when you called me about Bryce I- it broke my heart hearing you in so much pain, I wanted to jump straight on a plane and beat that punk up myself, it killed me that I couldn’t protect you from that,” he said his fist clenching in anger “I swore I wouldn’t let you get hurt like that again”

“So you told the team I was off limits” You nodded.

“Yes, so when I found out you’d both gone behind my back I was shocked and angry at myself for not protecting you, I knew deep down Chris wasn’t the boy I first met anymore but I couldn’t take the risk” he explained “but then when he turned down that ‘nurse’ because he loves you I realised I was wrong… I saw you two and you reminded me of your mom and me, you already look so much like her” his voice broke.

You bit your lower lip trying to stop yourself from crying. You hated seeing your dad in pain. 

“I also realised how upset she would be with me for what I said and tried to make you do, I would have been sleeping on the couch” he muttered “I promised that I would look after you, I thought I’d done a good job, I felt so proud that you felt comfortable enough to tell my what Langley had done so when you admitted that you hadn’t told me everything, that you had been having panic attacks and that I’d been so goddamn oblivious to all of this I started to spiral and wonder what else I missed, failed”

“Dad” you muttered taking a step forward “you didn’t fail at anything, you have been the best dad I could ask for, the fact I was able to tell you anything about what happened with Bryce is a testament to that” you reassured him “the only reason I didn’t tell you everything was because I didn’t think you’d be comfortable knowing the intimate details of my sex life” your dad’s face scrunched up just at the thought of it “exactly,” you said with a watery chuckle “and like I said I didn’t realise I was having panic attacks until the trip to LA, but I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, mom would be so proud of you, you’ve been my mom and my dad and I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me,” you said unable to hold back your tears any longer.

“C’mere” he sighed softly, opening up his arms.

You immediately accepted his hug. It had only been two weeks but you missed your dad and his hugs so much. His hugs were the best, you always felt safe when he hugged you like he was shielding you from the world.

“I’m so sorry” he muttered, his voice thick with his own tears.

“It’s okay, I forgive you” you promised “and thank you for what you said during your speech, it really meant a lot to me and Chris,” you said as you stepped out of the hug.

“It’s okay, I didn’t know if you’d be willing to speak to me after everything so thought it would be a good way to say that I gave you my blessing and that I was sorry” he said with a small smile.

“It was a great speech” you smiled.

“Thanks” he smiled bashfully as he looked down at the floor running his hand through his blond hair. He then chuckled shaking his head “I still can’t believe I didn’t notice it, I can’t believe I was so oblivious”

You laughed, knowing thanks to the guys that he had been very oblivious “Yeah you were a bit”

“Oh I know, Barber and some of the guys came to me after I left the hospital” he told you.

“They did? Why?” You asked, surprised.

“They were worried about what would happen to Chris, they told me that you were Chris’ good luck charm” he explained.

“And can’t mess with a player's good luck charm” you finished with a knowing smile.

“Exactly, and as long as you’re happy, I'm happy” he smiled “But just a word of warning, Rugby weddings are crazy and hectic”

“Dad I think you might be getting ahead of yourself there” you chuckled.

Your dad gives you a gentle smile and he shakes his head “No I'm not, I see the way Chris looks at you and it was the same way I looked at your mom” 

You couldn’t help but smile warmly at that because you had never felt this sort of love for someone, even though it was just the beginning you knew Chris was it “So you’re not gonna give him a hazing at training?” You asked.

“Oh no as soon as he’s back to full fitness he’s gonna get the most intense training regime out of all of them” your dad smirked before glancing over your shoulder “Speak of the devil, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it” he smiled nodding to someone behind you before stepping away.

You turned around to see Chris stood by the door. Your dad said something to him as he passed that Chris nodded in response to. You couldn’t hear what Chris said but it looked like he said ‘With my life sir’

“Hey,” you smiled as Chris walked over to you.

“Hey, it had been a while so I thought I’d better check if you were okay” he said as he came to a stop in front of you. 

“We’re good, very good” you smiled up at him.

“Glad to hear it” he smiled as he cupped your cheek and kissed you softly “So I’m not completely screwed when it comes to next season then?”

You laughed “Not completely, but we better get you fighting fit because he’s not gonna go easy on ya” you grinned.

“It’s a good thing I have the best medic in the league as my girlfriend then” he smirked kissing you again.

“How’s the party?” You asked nodding back to the party inside.

“Nice but it would be better if you were there with me” he grinned. 

You laughed “Well take me back inside captain” you smirked, holding out your hand.

“Certainly” Chris took your hand with a grin and led you back into the part and straight to the dance floor where the rest of the team was. 

You laughed as he spun you around, his hand moving to your hip using it to pull your back against his chest. You grinned over your shoulder at him as you grinded your hips against his, smirking when he quietly groaned. 

He leant in to whisper in your ear “If you keep this up I’m gonna have to find us a closet” he warned. 

“What if that’s what I want” you smirked. 

Chris groaned as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder “You are trouble”

The two of you continued dancing together, ignoring the whistles and cheers from the boys whenever it got a bit hot. Eventually, the music slowed down and only the couples remained on the dance floor. You turned around to face Chris, draping one arm over his shoulder, your other hand resting on his chest as he wrapped one arm around you. You swayed back and first slowly, smiling warmly up at him.

“You know, from the moment I met you I knew you were someone special” Chris hummed.

“Really?” you asked, surprised even if you did think the same about him. 

“Yeah, from the moment you walked over in your white tee and blue jeans and offered to buy me a drink I was a goner, I’m surprised I stayed away as long as I did” Chris smiled softly. 

“You remembered what I wore” you muttered in disbelief. 

“I remember everything when it comes to you” 

“Except when you’re high on painkillers in the hospital” you smirked. 

Chris threw his head back and laughed loudly “You got me there, but every other time I remember” he smiled. 

“You’re very sweet Evans, I don’t know what I did to deserve you” You smiled up at him. 

“You did nothing except be yourself, this incredible, brave, amazing woman that I love,” Chris said softly, shaking his head.

“I love you too” you smiled reaching up onto your tip toes to kiss him. 

His hand moved to cup your cheek, keeping your lips against his for as long as possible. So much so that I felt like the entire universe had melted away and there was nothing and no one who could get in the way of you and him. 

When you eventually pulled away you caught sight of your dad watching, beer in hand, with a soft smile on his face. He raised his beer and nodded his head in a toast to you and Chris and it meant the absolute world to you. 

A/N: I almost didn't want to put this out because I didn't want to say goodbye to these two but its not a goodbye its a see you later and I hope you enjoyed this first installment to the Boston Bears series!

Sharing is caring so please reblog and leave a comment to really make my day!

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[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Cruel Summer Ch. 9

Donations | Thoughts & Feelings | Cruel Summer Series | Chapter 8

TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!!!!!! This chapter contains mentions of sexual assault, which may be distressing or triggering for some readers. Please take care while reading, and prioritize your well-being. If you need to skip this chapter or seek support, that is completely okay.

If you or anyone you know has been Sexually assaulted, harmed, a victim of Domestic Violence or has thoughts of suicide, please reach out to one of the following numbers, or someone you love and care about.

Domestic Violence Hotline-800-799-7233

Suicide hotline-988

Sexual Assault Hotline-1-800-656-4673

Hemsworth was seated in the Presidential Suite that Evans had rented for his bachelor party, listening to everyone laugh, drink, party, just enjoying themselves. All he really wanted was to see you, hold you, be back with you. He got up and walked over to the windows, opening the glass door to stand on the balcony, to hopefully clear his mind. 

You’d been the best part of everything over the last year; getting together for dinner was the best decision he’d ever made. So what if you’d been with Evans prior to you two dating. To be honest, as a couple you guys were not exclusive yet when you’d slept with Evans, and honestly he was going to need more information on that before making an informed decision on if it would affect your relationship moving forward. 

“Dude, I can’t believe you still have that video,” he heard Sebastian laugh as Evans chuckled. Hemsworth looked back inside to see Evans showing a video to him. “Why would I delete it? She was so fucking wasted when I filmed this too. She has no idea it even exists.” he elbowed Seb as they both drunkenly laughed again. Hemsworth walked closer to them, looking over Evans shoulder to see you drunkenly laying on a bed in some hotel room. It was clearly filmed a while ago, your hair was shorter and darker. 

You whined as he pulled you down the bed. “Shhhhh,” he whispered as you began to push his hand away. Your eyes were closed and he continued to pull your dress off, exposing your bare body to the camera. He caressed you, groped parts of your body that made Hemsworth see red, and even smacked your hand at one point when you shoved him away. “Lay still and be quiet,” his voice whispered through the speakers. 

Hemsworth watched as Evans forced himself on you, you slurred out “No” a few more times before you passed out entirely. Anger filled his body, clouded his mind and judgment, before he knew it, he was tackling Evans and snatched his phone up, gripping his throat as the guys all stopped and rushed around them. “Is this the only copy?” he snarled down at him. “Bro what the fuck!” a party goer shouted. “Get off me!” Evans tried to move but Hemsworth squeezed tighter causing him to cough and instead grab at his hand. “IS THIS THE ONLY FUCKING COPY?!” he shouted down at him, causing everyone in the room to stand as still as statues. 

Evans' face began to turn from red to purple as he nodded quickly. “Yes,” he barely said as Hemsworth released his throat before punching him. Ruffalo shoved Sebastian back, “Not this time. He deserves this.” He said lowly keeping his hand pushed up against Sebs chest. Hemsworth and Evans broke out into a major fight. By the end of it, Hemsworth towered over Evans, “you ever….EVER even think of her and I’ll fuckin kill you, you fuckin piece of shit.” he spit on him, bent down and snatched up Evans cell phone and walked out. 

“Hey Chris! Chris, wait!” Mark's voice carried through the hallway as he jogged after him. “Man where you goin?” he said as he caught up to him at the elevators. “I got someone to go visit.” Chris said looking at him, “You want me to come with you?” he asked. Chris debated saying no, but how would you react when you laid eyes on him in this state? “Sure.”  

You were walking down the hallway toward the elevators as Chris and Mark came out of the stairwell. “There she is!” Mark pointed toward the elevators as you climbed in with your guards, headphones on, listening to some music. Your hair was straightened and your makeup already done. You looked up as the doors shut barely catching a glimpse of two figures running down the hallway toward the elevators. 

You performed the show, being as happy and carefree as you could be, but it was so hard. You hadn’t seen Chris in over a month and a half, not since he’d sent you the beautiful flowers. You had texted him but he never replied. 

You’d begun to think he never would either.

You stood at the microphone, glancing out into the crowd with a smile. “Welcome to the acoustic set!” you shouted happily as you put your arms out and spun around laughing. “Aw, I love this section of the evening guys, it's truly one of my favorites.” you tucked your hair behind your ears, as you slowly strummed the guitar. 

 Hand on the throttle

Thought I caught lightning in a bottle

Oh, but it's gone again

And it was written

I got cursed like Eve got bitten

Oh, was it punishment?

Pad around when I get home

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope

A greater woman wouldn't beg

But I looked to the sky and said

Chris stood there looking at the guard, “Come on man you know me. I was dating Y/N for over 6 months.” he huffed. “Aww you guys were really dating man? Good for you.” Mark smiled at him, as the guard looked at Chris and smirked. “Yeah….YOU WERE. Not now. Move along. Either back to the VIP tent or out of here. You’re not getting backstage. End of story.” 

Mark watched as Chris glared at him, “Hey man, let's go back to the hotel and get cleaned up so when you do speak to her, you don’t freak her out by all the blood.” he said as Chris glanced over at him before glaring back at the guard. “Fine.” Chris was in rough shape, not nearly as bad as Evans, but still bad. His left temple was bloody, his nose broken, a cut adorned the bridge of it, his eyes were blackening by the minute and his lip was cut. He had bruises on his cheek bones, his back, his forehead, his jaw and chin. He probably should have been checked out but talking to you was more important.  

Please

I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

Let it once be me

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo

The prophecy?

Cards on the table

Mine play out like fools in a fable, oh

It was sinking in

Slow is the quicksand

Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand

Oh, still I dream of him

Please

I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

Let it once be me

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo

The prophecy?

You imagined that the audience was gone, and only one person sat there staring up at you. Chris. 

He smiled up at you, his leg crossed over the other elbows resting on the arm rests of the chair as he intertwined his fingers, pressing them to the smile on his lips. You smiled back at him, feeling happy and content. Just you, him, the sound of your guitar and singing, filled the empty stadium. He stood up, still smiling but turned and walked down the aisle. 

And I sound like an infant

Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen

A greater woman stays cool

But I howl like a wolf at the moon

And I look unstable

Gathered with a coven round a sorceress' table

Your smile faltered as you moved closer to the edge, singing louder without the mic, praying he would hear you. 

A greater woman has faith

But even statues crumble if they're made to wait

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate

No sign of soulmates

I'm just a paperweight

In shades of greige

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me

It'll be ok

You fell to your knees, tears streaming down your face as you continued to sing, watching as he glanced back at you, a white rose in his hand as he held it out to you, still smiling, not saying a word as a woman walked up to him, wrapping her arm around his waist as he looked at her before looking back at you with no smile. 

Please

I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

Let it once be me

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo

The prophecy?

Who do I have to speak to

To change the prophecy?

Watching as he kissed the woman who looked at you and smiled in a dark, sinister way before she grabbed the flower from his hand and crushed it, pulling him toward the back of the stadium as you pleaded with her while singing. Your voice carried off into a deafening silence as you pleaded for him to come back. 

Hand on the throttle

Thought I caught lightning in a bottle, oh

But it's gone again

Pad around when I get home

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope

A greater woman wouldn't beg

But I looked to the sky and said

Please

Finishing the concert you bowed and smiled at the crowd, you couldn’t believe this was the last show for a few months. As you walked backstage, you felt tears well up in your eyes again. You quickly made your way back into the dressing room, you couldn’t wait to just go home and not see a soul for a week. You threw your sweatpants over the bodysuit you had on and grabbed a zip up jacket. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes before you stepped out and grinned at those who’d stayed behind for one last glimpse at you. “Bye!! Bye guys!!! I love you!! Thank you so much for coming!” you waved as big as you could to everyone who was screaming at you, grinning, telling you they loved you. 

You walked down the tunnel and felt your shoulders drop with relief; you loved your fans but you were exhausted. Life had been unfair and the recurring nightmare continued to interrupt your sleep at night. You played it over and over in your mind as Megan talked about who knew. You looked over at her, “Megan...not tonight. I’m too tired to deal with this. I need a hot shower, some warm food and my bed for at least a week. Nothing else to bother me.” you said in a defeated, flat tone.  Megan stared at you before she sighed and nodded, “I understand…I’ll order you something to have ready when you get back to the hotel.” she smiled softly and put her nose back into her phone. 

You followed Drew and the rest of your security team to your hotel room, as the door opened and you walked in, you looked up, stopping dead in your tracks. 

(Thank you so much for reading, please, If you need someone to talk to after reading this chapter, please send me or anyone you know a message. I love you!)

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[snowdrop-ivy]

Favor. | Part 7 - Finale

Summary: Ari Levinson was an ego embodied in a man. Yep, he's an asshole. Y/N knows it yet she still married him. How? She doesn't know. And now, she doesn't know how to get him to sign the divorce papers.

A/N: Hey! This is the final chapter! Yay! Took me long enough but, I hope you like it <3 Thanks for the support!

Meanwhile, as she, Max, and Jake approached the reception area, the sight of Ethan standing casually in the middle of the lobby froze them in place. The tension of the past hours lingered in the air, making his unexpected appearance all the more jarring.

Ethan glanced around the dimly lit space, surveying the remnants of chaos they had just escaped. With a slight smirk, he raised an eyebrow and, with his usual dry humor, remarked, “Nice hotel.”

Max exchanged a look with Jake, both clearly taken aback. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of irritation and relief mix together, wondering what Ethan’s presence would mean now. The calmness in his voice felt almost mocking compared to the whirlwind they had just been through.

She took a breath, stepping forward. “Ethan,” she greeted him, unsure whether to feel annoyed or grateful at his impeccable timing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see the hotel,” Ethan replied with a casual shrug.

“Yeah, right,” Y/N rolled her eyes, irritation flaring. “After that, all you care about is the hotel? Don’t start shit.”

“Language, young lady,” Ethan retorted, his tone sharp. “Why don’t we wait for your husband outside?”

As they moved outside, Y/N sank onto a bench, lighting a cigarette. Max snatched it from her hands. “Hey!”

“You don’t smoke.”

“You don’t know that,” she shot back, reclaiming the cigarette. “Just one!”

Jake quickly extinguished it, sending her a stern look as they waited for the car. Y/N crossed her arms in frustration, unable to shake the tension in her chest.

When the truck finally appeared, her heart raced at the sight of Ari behind the wheel, a bittersweet relief washing over her. She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to lash out at him and Sammy. Ari parked the truck and stepped out, his gaze immediately drawn to Y/N, who was checking on Sammy. She offered him a slight smile, one that felt like a balm to Ari's frayed nerves.

“Ethan?” Sammy called out, breaking the moment.

Ethan turned, a weight in his expression. “The soldier who was shot?” He sighed heavily. 

“He lost too much blood.”

Ari's heart sank as he searched Y/N’s face. She avoided his gaze, focusing on the ground beside Rachel. Rachel shot him a look that conveyed reassurance, and Ari nodded in response as they made their way to his room.

He burst through the door, the weight of the world pressing down on him as he stripped off his polo, throwing it onto the floor in frustration. “How did this happen?”

“They mistook us for smugglers,” Ari spat, pacing the room, his back to Ethan.

“This whole thing’s a mistake,” Ethan replied, his voice steady.

Ari spun around, his anger simmering just below the surface. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” Ethan said, waiting for Ari to respond.

“You shutting us down?” Hurt laced Ari’s voice.

Ethan nodded solemnly, and Ari’s heart sank. He sat heavily on the bed, the reality crashing down on him. “You can’t, Ethan. This mission’s a success. We’ve got thousands of people out. We have thousands more lives coming this way.”

“What about your life?” Ethan shot back. “Or your wife’s? Jake’s? Rachel’s? Max’s? Jesus! What about Sam? What about that, huh?”

Ari fell silent, the truth stinging. They had all agreed to this life, to risk everything for a greater purpose.

“That’s why we have to stop now while it’s still a success,” Ethan pressed, his expression earnest. “I want you chaps home, safe and alive. Think about your life. Live that.”

With a heavy sigh, Ari hung his head, resting it on his hands as Ethan left the room. He found himself trapped between the lives they had built and the lives they had saved. He couldn’t let them down. Not Y/N. Not anymore. Taking a deep breath, he began to clean himself up, the turmoil within him simmering as he searched for his wife.

He found her in the foyer, tending to Sammy’s bruises. Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither knew how to bridge the gap created by their recent turmoil. She cleared her throat, gently holding his injured knuckles in her hands as she began to clean the wound. “What happened here?”

Her voice was gentle, soothing like the tide. Ari watched her, captivated by her soft touches, the way she tucked her hair behind his ear. He felt a surge of warmth as she looked up at him, her eyes meeting his.

“Should we go home?” he asked, his heart racing.

Her eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of hope and fear flitting across her features. “What about them?”

He traced circles on her cheeks while she bandaged his hand, feeling the weight of their choices. “You wanna know why every hero in the movie dies sometimes?”

“Why’s that?” She asked, a tender peck on his hand punctuating her curiosity.

“Because they don’t know where to draw the line.”

“We’re not the heroes here,” She reminded him, determination shining in her eyes. “But you get to decide. Should we go home?”

Ari locked his gaze onto her, the intensity of his feelings unspoken but palpable. In that moment, everything shifted; he could feel her love weaving around them, a fragile thread tethering them together amid the chaos.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his heart swelling with hope. “Let’s go home.”

She smiled and nodded. “Where’s home?”

Ari shrugged, the memory of their house lingering in his mind. “Wherever you are, that’s my home,” he softly said, cupping her face in his hands. With slowness and gentleness, he leaned in, pressing his lips against her. The kiss was tender and cautious, as if he feared she would break if he were too rough. They pulled away breathless, foreheads touching as he drew circles on her thumb. “I wanna go home, honey.”

Ari took Sam and Max to Kabede, who was hiding. When they found him, he was shot and bleeding profusely. They informed him that the refugees were waiting by the river, and Ari's heart broke at the thought. Once they were done, they devised a plan for their last rescue and returned to the resort. Excitement and fear coursed through him as he opened the door, greeted by Abdel and her.

“Colonel,” he said, brushing his hair back nervously. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“I was just treating my men to some of Abu Aziz’s famous cooking,” Abdel replied, glaring at him.

“Great, let’s not keep him waiting,” Ari said, brushing past Abdel to take her hand. He halted abruptly when Abdel stopped them, ordering something to his men in Arabic.

“What was that?” She asked, concern creeping into her voice.

“I told them to check the back of your trucks,” Abdel replied coolly.

She and Ari exchanged a wary glance, feeling a chill run through the air. “What for?” Ari asked, anxiety tightening his chest.

“It will please me,” Abdel replied, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

Jake and Rachel gathered behind them, watching as Abdel’s men searched the truck where Max and Sammy were hiding. She tried to mask her relief when they reported back, having found nothing.

“So,” Abdel began, after his men confirmed they couldn’t find anything, “dinner.”

Ari’s jaw clenched. “Great,” he muttered, turning back to her.

He sat down while she took a seat beside Abdel as the food was served. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and her heart raced as she glanced around, spotting soldiers patrolling the area. She exchanged a knowing look with Rachel and signaled her to take down the other guard while she handled the one by the door. They both excused themselves.

Cautiously, she crept toward the soldier, her pulse pounding in her ears. As he opened the door, she acted swiftly, kicking the back of his knee and forcing him down. Her hands wrapped around his throat, muffling any cries for help that might escape his lips. She felt the resistance fade from his body as he struggled to breathe, and just as Kabede stood up, panic flashing in his eyes, he pleaded, “He’s done. Please, stop.”

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what needed to be done. With a swift motion, she positioned the soldier behind the door, tying his hands and feet tightly, covering his face to silence him completely. Her breathing came in shaky bursts, the adrenaline surging through her veins, heightening her senses.

Once she left the room, her eyes met Rachel's. In that fleeting moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of what they had just done. Her expression mirrored hers—intense, yet filled with a spark of exhilaration mixed with fear.

When they returned to the table, she could feel Ari’s grip on her hand tighten, his anxiety palpable. She squeezed it gently, offering silent reassurance, trying to calm both him and herself. The room hummed with an unsettling energy as the reality of their situation pressed down upon her, and her could sense that every moment counted.

“Is there a difference between Handawa women and American women?” Abdel asked, glancing between her and Natfhia. “Mr. Guy?”

Ari's grip on her hand intensified, his teeth clenching. “I don’t know, I guess.”

“I bet there is,” Abdel shot back, his hand possessively resting on Natfhia’s thigh. “Handawa women say yes to everything. Their parts were stitched to keep them tight. I bet you’ll prefer Handawa over American women.”

“I’m content with my wife,” Ari replied, the veins in his temples popping with anger.

“No,” Abdel shook his head, his grip tightening around her hand at the table. She instinctively tried to pull it back, but he held it firmly. “I bet your wife is not as tight as her.”

Anger coursed through Ari’s body. “Don’t,” he mumbled, his gaze locked onto Abdel. She looked at him, trying to catch his attention, but he was lost in a storm of rage.

She felt a flicker of relief when Abdel finally released her hand. But his fingers quickly found their way to her thigh. “This is not tight anymore,” he said, teasing Ari.

That was the final straw. Ari exploded, grabbing a table knife and pressing it against Abdel’s throat. “I said don’t!”

Abdel was quicker, choking her from behind. Panic flashed in her eyes as she pleaded silently with Ari, but he was consumed by anger. She felt her breath quicken, fear clawing at her chest as the cold muzzle of a gun pressed against her temple.

“Or what?” Abdel laughed maniacally, pressing the gun deeper. “Or I blow your wife’s brains out?”

“What were you planning to do with that knife, Mr. Thomas?” Abdel taunted.

This time, he looked at her. She gently shook her head, her heart racing. Ari took a deep breath before putting the knife down, the tension in the room hanging like a thick fog. But as soon as the blade clattered to the ground, a soldier behind him jabbed a gun into the back of his neck, forcing him to kneel on the floor.

Her mind raced, torn between the urge to strike back at Abdel and the instinct to calm the situation. Tears streamed down her face, fueled by anger and helplessness. Ari knelt there, his expression a mix of defiance and vulnerability. Abdel laughed again, a cruel sound that echoed in the air as he shoved her aside, rallying his men to leave.

As they departed, she rushed to Ari, kneeling in front of him. “What were you thinking?” she asked, her voice trembling with a blend of anger and concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he replied, meeting her gaze briefly before inspecting her body, his worry palpable. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head multiple times, a desperate attempt to reassure him. But in a moment of frustration, she smacked him across the face. “That was really stupid!”

Ari didn’t register her anger; all he could do was look at her , his eyes scanning for any sign of injury. The resort lights flickered off, plunging the area into darkness as they began clearing everyone out. Ari’s gaze turned intently to the road, waiting for the sound of approaching trucks, his mind racing with thoughts of how to keep her safe.

In that moment, the gravity of their situation pressed down on them, the weight of uncertainty heavy in the air. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, mixing with a deep-seated fear for what was yet to come.

“They’ll be back,” Ari stated, his voice low, the weight of the moment heavy in his tone. He glanced around at the group, eyes lingering on her. “With numbers.”

“Yeah,” Max agreed, nodding grimly. “Especially when they find out they’re two guys down.” His gaze shifted to her and Rachel, a hint of disbelief mixing with the tension.

She took a deep breath, feeling the room’s attention on her. Crossing her arms and legs, she hung her head down, not having the heart to meet Ari’s gaze. But she could feel it—burning into her, waiting for an explanation she wasn't ready to give. When she finally lifted her eyes, confusion flickered across his face, but there was something else—a hint of amusement, or perhaps, reluctant admiration.

All of them circled around the two fallen soldiers. The weight of what she had done settled in the silence that followed. Shame gnawed at her insides as they looked at her and Rachel, silently acknowledging the magnitude of what had just happened.

Ari inhaled sharply, breaking the stillness. “Buy me a day,” he ordered, his voice steady and commanding. “Make sure they’re taken care of... but completely invisible.”

She and the others raised their heads as Ari began to dish out instructions with precision. His gaze landed on Rachel and Jake. “Don’t let the staff in here,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for discussion.

Then, his attention shifted to Max and Sammy. “Take the truck. Get the rest of the group.”

Finally, his eyes locked on her, and the tension in the air thickened. “You and I,” he said, voice softer but firm, “will call Ethan.”

The ride to Ethan was suffocating in its silence. She stared out of the window, the city blurring past as she tried to think of the right words, the ones that would break the wall of tension between her and Ari. The guilt of what she had done weighed heavy on her chest. she bit her lip, struggling to form the words.

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. she really didn’t—but she had no choice. The air in the car felt heavy with her confession.

“I know,” Ari said, his tone controlled but distant. His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

she shifted in her seat, desperately needing him to hear her , to understand. “Look at me,” she pleaded softly, her voice almost breaking.

For a moment, Ari couldn’t. He was trying so hard not to let the anger consume him. He inhaled deeply, keeping his gaze forward, but the tension was palpable. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned his eyes to meet hers. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but there was something else—something softer, something that still tethered him to her .

She reached for his hand, gently squeezing it, her fingers trembling slightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, the sincerity in her voice breaking through the weight of the moment.

Ari took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly, the tension loosening just enough for him to speak. “Let’s just go home,” he said, the words filled with exhaustion, but also, a fragile hope.

she bit her lip and nodded, feeling the weight of the situation. she meant to pull her hand back, but Ari was quicker, intertwining his fingers with hers and placing their joined hands on her lap. His face remained stoic, his gaze returning to the road as the silence stretched between them.

It wasn’t long before they reached Walton’s office. Once inside, Ari took the lead, doing all the talking. She watched as he pleaded with Ethan over the phone, his voice steady but urgent. Walton soon took the phone, speaking directly with Ethan. The conversation was tense, but by the end of it, there was a plan in place.

They both made their way back to the resort, where Max greeted her with a new problem.

“There’s no way we can fit all of them in two trucks,” Max said, eyes scanning the crowd of refugees. His voice carried the frustration of the moment.

“Shit,” she exhaled, looking around for any possible solution. her mind raced until she found one. Max and Ari both turned to see what she was eyeing.

“Are you serious?” Jake said, disbelief clear in his tone. “A Sudanese tour bus?”

Max let out an anxious laugh, shaking his head at the idea.

She was about to defend her choice, but Ari cut in before she could. “Start loading them up. I gotta grab something. I’ll be right back,” he said, running back toward the hotel without waiting for a response.

With little time to argue, she helped Jake and Max start loading the refugees onto the bus. It was a scramble to get everyone aboard, but eventually, they were all seated. Jake took a spot at the end, Max settled on the other side, while Rachel sat in the driver’s seat. She chose the front, Sammy sitting across from her .

Ari was the last one to board, sliding into the seat in front of her as Rachel started the engine and the bus lurched forward, heading for the airfield.

The drive was tense, the sound of the engine almost drowning out the anxious whispers among the refugees. But Rachel kept the bus moving, and soon, the airfield came into view. Max and Jake quickly hopped off and made their way to the control room, working to open the lights and keep an eye out for any approaching trucks.

She and Rachel began helping the refugees off the bus, guiding them carefully to the edge of the airstrip. Meanwhile, Ari and Sammy moved swiftly, laying out glow sticks on the tarmac to guide the incoming plane.

The scene was one of organized chaos, but there was an unspoken urgency that kept everyone moving. The air was thick with tension, but also with the fragile hope that this plan might just work. 

The air was thick with tension, and the weight of every second pressed down on the team as they waited. Max’s eyes darted between the empty road and the airfield, his hand clenched around the comms. The silence felt unbearable. He swallowed hard, finally breaking the stillness.

“When are they supposed to be here?” Max’s voice cracked slightly, anxiety evident. He barely glanced at Ari, who stood nearby, cracking another glowstick with a sharp snap.

Ari took a slow, measured breath, eyes scanning the horizon. “I don’t know, why?” The calm in his voice was forced, a paper-thin cover over the growing dread inside him.

Max hung his head in defeat. “We have company.” His voice barely above a whisper, “Nine kilometers away.”

The news hit them like a wave. A collective exhale left the team, the kind that comes when the fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, but there’s no clear answer for which is the right choice. Rachel’s hand trembled as she took the comms, exchanging a look with Ari.

“Shall we get them back to the trucks?” she asked, her voice steady, but her eyes betrayed her fear.

She knelt nearby, tending to a small boy, her hands gentle as she cleaned the bruise on his knee. Her head snapped up, determination flashing in her eyes. “No, there’s still time.”

Ari, his movements more frantic now, cracked the last of the glowsticks, the harsh light illuminating the airfield like fragile beacons. He moved quickly, almost desperately, sprinting back to the crew with Sammy on his heels.

Rachel was the first to speak, her voice laced with urgency. “We should go back to the bus and get the fuck out of here.”

Her frustration flared as she stood, eyes blazing. “Where the fuck will we go then? Back to that shitty hotel? They’ll kill us there!”

Before Sammy could respond, Kabede raised his hand, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Wait. Listen.”

Everyone froze. The air around them seemed to still, and in that moment, all eyes turned skyward. The distant rumble, faint at first, grew louder, the unmistakable sound of salvation approaching. The plane. The sight of it descending onto the tarmac sent a rush of adrenaline through her.

Without hesitation, she took charge, leading the refugees toward the plane as the cargo hold opened. Walton stepped out, his hand extended toward her, a mix of relief and exhaustion on his face.

“About fucking time, don’t you think?” She muttered, shaking his hand briskly before shouting back to the others, “Come on, people, let’s go!”

It was chaos. She moved as fast as she could, ushering passengers inside, her mind racing. But then, the second pilot’s voice rang out, stopping her in her tracks.

“Wait! This plane only holds 228 passengers. How many do you have?”

Her blood boiled at the absurdity of the question. “You think I counted them?” she snapped, continuing to push refugees toward the plane.

The pilot’s voice, louder now, more panicked, cut through again. “We’re not gonna fit.”

“What?” Her eyes darkened as the weight of his words settled in. He repeated himself, and something inside her snapped. She grabbed him by the collar, her voice low and dangerous. “Then you choose who fucking lives or dies, because I won’t fucking choose.”

Ari’s hands were on her, pulling her back, his touch gentle but firm, trying to steady her. The second pilot, pale and shaken, hesitated, but there was no time. Max’s frantic voice called from the cargo. “Three kilometers!”

“Better choose fast,” Ari said, his back to the pilot, his hands resting on her shoulders. She could feel his tension, the thin thread of control he held over his emotions.

The pilot looked at the crowd, helpless. She wasn't waiting for him to decide. Her eyes scanned the plane, the cargo hold, and suddenly, an idea sparked. “Then make some fucking room,” she growled, pushing past Ari. Without a second thought, she began tearing seats out of the plane, tossing them to the ground. The team followed her lead, hands working fast until everyone was inside, sitting on the floor, cramped but alive.

As the plane lifted off, she heard the crack of gunfire in the distance. The plane lurched, clipping a tree. She ducked, heart pounding, but the shots faded, and the plane soared higher. Safe. Finally, safe.

She glanced around, catching Rachel’s eye as she smiled, her gaze dropping to the little boy—Amari—sleeping peacefully in her lap. “It suits you,” she whispered softly.

She smiled back, exhaustion and relief washing over her . “I know,” she replied quietly, brushing Amari’s hair back gently.

Max was nearby, making the children around him laugh, a small moment of lightness amidst the chaos. He caught her eye, nodding in acknowledgment. She returned the gesture, the silent camaraderie between them unspoken but understood.

Jake’s voice was soft as he whispered goodnight, two kids nestled under his arms. She watched him for a moment before her gaze shifted to Kabede, his face peaceful as he slept, the tension of the night finally fading.

In the cockpit, Ari and Sammy shared a quiet moment of triumph, exchanging a glance that said more than words could. Ari turned to Walton, shaking his hand with sincere gratitude. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, a rare, genuine smile breaking across his face.

Walton chuckled. “Feisty wife, huh?”

Ari laughed, nodding. “Tell me about it.”

Back in the cargo, Ari sat beside her, his eyes soft as he gazed down at Amari. She felt his presence beside her , warm and steady. She leaned her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his.

“It suits you,” Ari murmured, his voice quiet, almost shy. “Being a mom.”

“I know.” She smiled, the softness of the moment sinking in. “We can still try.”

Ari’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, his voice catching. “Really? Are you sure you’re ready?”

She nodded, the weight of the past days lifting slightly. “About damn time.”

Ari reached into his pocket, pulling out an envelope. He showed it to her, a question in his eyes. “What should I do with this?”

She barely glanced at the divorce papers. “Burn it.”

Ari laughed, a sound full of relief and love. He cupped her face in his hands, pressing his forehead to her , his voice a low whisper. “Have I ever told you how badass you are?”

“Yes.”

“And how I love you for it?”

“Yes,” she smiled, leaning into him.

“Good,” he whispered, pulling her close. “I want to make sure you know that every day.”

“That I’m a badass?” She chuckled.

“No,” he answered. “That I love you everyday.”

She gazed into Ari's eyes, and the sincerity there held her captive. Without hesitation, she pressed her lips to his, this time deeper, lingering longer, letting the emotion between them speak louder than words. Ari responded with a soft smile, a quiet defiance in his heart—determined to keep her , his love, at the top of everything, no matter what came next.

As he pulled away, his eyes wandered around the plane, taking in the scene—the refugees safe, the team settled, the quiet after the storm. A sense of pride welled up in him. This was what they had accomplished together, and it hit him all at once: the magnitude of the risks they took, the lives they saved, and the bond they’d strengthened.

God, how did I get this lucky? he wondered, his heart swelling. He didn't know how, but one thing was certain now—he wasn’t going to lose this. Not again. Not ever. And as she smiled, both of them knew—this was more than just surviving. This was love, resilience, and the promise of a future they’d fight for. Together.

>> Part 6<<

~~End~~

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the soaring arrow

fused with the foe, chapter two

a/n: we getting somewhere in this one... progress... and by progress, i of course mean that we are one chapter closer to when they finally get to be happy and in love.

summary: “…do you still wanna learn?”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, violence, gore, injury, weapons, big scary dire bear, a bit of a cliffhanger of an ending to this chapter (the drama is here, it has arrived, in the majestic for of [spoiler])

word count: 4706

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Rising yet again from the plush stool, your feet carried you the short distance back around to the opposing seat. Your elbow came to rest against the edge of the small games table as you glanced down at the chequered board and your chin swiftly found your propped-up palm as a bored breath seeped from your lungs. 

As you moved one of the ivory pieces, the thoughts you’d been trying to keep at bay for weeks slipped through ever so slightly. The king hadn’t talked to you since the wedding, in fact, whenever you’d been in the same room with each other, his gaze never found you. 

You might as well have been invisible.

The arm beneath your face slowly melted down till it layed flat against the table and you let your head follow along. Slumped over, your cheek pressed against your forearm. 

Raising your gaze from your up-close perspective of the chess pieces, it fell upon the man leaning 

against the wall by the exit. Dark locks only half tied up, a crossbow was strapped to his broad back as his stormy gaze stayed low and locked on the small dagger he absentmindedly twirled and flipped in his fingers.

Letting out another sigh, you didn’t bother straightening out before you asked, “so, is this just how it’s gonna be?”

Halting his fiddling, Barnes’ eyes met yours, “pardon me, your majesty?”

“You just lurking wherever I am, is that how it’s gonna be for the rest of my life?” you lifted yourself only slightly so that both of your palms pressed into your soft cheeks to prop it up. 

“No, I’m just here till you get settled, then I’ll go back to my usual business,” the advisor stated. 

“And when will that be?”

“I don’t know, your majesty,” he sheathed the short blade at his side, “why? If it’s because you don’t care for my presence then please just say so, I won’t be offended if you’d rather have a different warden looking out for you.”

“No,” you sat up properly, “it’s not that, not at all, I just–… could I maybe go for a walk?” the question hesitantly left your lips. 

“Sure, you can,” he nodded slightly, “where do you wanna go? I could show you the Valarian Ward in town, there are lots of museums there you might like–”

“No,” you cut his offer off, “I meant if I could go for a walk on my own.”

“Oh… well, I’m not entirely sure that’s the best idea…” he uttered carefully. 

“I am your queen, aren’t I? So, can’t I just command you to let me go by myself?” you tried, blinking up at him like a little puppy, “please, Barnes.”

A low sigh then flowed from his lips as his stare raked across the floor. A moment passed before he opened his mouth again, slowly saying as his gaze stayed averted, “your majesty, I am gonna leave for a moment, I suddenly remembered that I forgot something in my chambers this morning. Please excuse me as I momentarily won’t be here watch where you go,” his eyes flicked up to meet yours, “you got that?” 

“Yes,” a bright smile stretched across your features, “I understand what you’re saying,” as you instantly shot up to your feet, “thank you, Barnes.” 

Though half regretting his choice already, he still offered you a half-hearted smile, “you’re welcome, your majesty.”

Bending down, you plucked a long-stemmed daisy and added it to the bouquet of wildflowers your left fist was tightly enclosed around. As you lifted yourself back up, your vision washed over the blossoming meadow you stood on, located on the hill directly north of the castle. From here only parts of the seaside community were perceivable, as from this angle the mountainous fortress blocked off the vast majority of Borün city, only the edges closest to the main road, like the city stables and the water mill, caught your gaze. But the farmlands that curved over the rolling hills west of the town had no obstructions in their path. The vision of golden fields as well as wide pens that housed both fuzzy brown cows and round little sheep, that blissfully soaked in the mild afternoon sun, couldn’t help but bring a smile to your lips. 

Peeking over your shoulder, the warnings of the king’s right-hand man faintly echoed in your mind as you glanced at the thick forest. Temptation had swayed your feet to carry you dangerously close to the edge. The Noll woods didn’t seem that dangerous from this angle, perhaps it was safe enough on the perimeter and it was just the dangers deep within it that they were so terrified of. So, the next thing you knew, your leisurely stride had crossed the meadow and the dark wilderness had swallowed you whole. 

Extending an arm as your feet slowly walked over the crunchy leaves and the pillowy moss clusters, you felt the cool leaves brush against your open palm, almost as if you were greeting each and every one of them as you passed. The chirping birds high up in the dense treetops sang a pleasant melody that caused a bright smile to bloom on your lips. 

You weren’t sure how long you ventured forth, deeper and deeper into the twisted forest, but eventually, a small and speckled bush caught your eye, ripe with the vibrant berries you recognised from the layered cake that you had been served for tea just a few days prior. The fabric of the long burgundy cloak you wore billowed behind you as you rushed to pluck the small fruits. A soft hum vibrated at your lips as you tasted their tart sweetness, popping them in your mouth one by one. 

Though just as your head was up in the clouds, over the moon about this little slice of paradise you had discovered, a low growl emanated from the tall shrubs just behind the berry bush. Your fingers froze in an instant and the fruits in your berry-stained palm rolled to the ground. Slowly, you raised your gaze as a giant snout pushed through the dense plants and the creature’s rotten breath fanned across your cheeks, causing your stomach to churn. 

Holding your breath, petrified with fear, you willed your feet to shuffle back at a terrifyingly slow pace. Your entire body trembled like a leaf on the wind as your eyes stayed glued on the dark animal slowly creeping into the clearing. 

A bear, though at least three times the size of any normal one, came stomping into the light. Its footsteps were heavy enough to make the forest floor quake. Long and gnarly teeth curled up over its drooping lip as viscus slobber, and what looked like blood, dripped from its gums, staining the blades of grass below with every hefty step. Nowhere on its scarred skull were something that resembled eyes, so as it sniffed loudly, your hair nearly rustling in the gust, the blind monster detected precisely where you stood.

A snarl rumbled out from its toothy maw as it clawed closer to you like a predator playing with its food just before it pounced. Eclipsing the dabbled sunlight that streamed in through the tree canopy, the massive creature blocked off any chance you had of escape. The petrifying roar it then let out caused your hands to instinctively shoot up in front of your face. 

Falling back, you collided with the thick tree trunk right behind you. Adrenaline pumped so furiously throughout your body that the tree almost felt like a pillow, as your body was so filled with terror that it didn’t let you notice any of the pain. 

Through your shielding fingers, you caught sight of a swift movement, though it wasn’t the ravaging bear before you. From out of nowhere a broad figure suddenly appeared, slipping in between you and the creature. 

Your eyes widened as you saw the king hold a shield up high, groaning from the strain as he blocked the monster’s mighty attack. Drawing a stout axe at his belt, he sliced it low, catching one of the bear’s legs and causing it to reel back enough for him to bash the shield against its snout, sending it back a few paces. The arching blows he then landed on the gnawing beast were a brutal blur to your eyes as he didn’t yield till the monster was slain and its blood stained the mossy forest floor. 

Slowly turning to face you, crimson dabbled his features and tainted his beard as he stared you down and roared, “what the hell were you thinking?” his broad chest still heaved from the battle as he took a step closer to you, “you’re not in Obelón anymore, you can’t just wander off!”

“I–… I’m sorry,” you said weakly, your eyes felt heavy as you stumbled to distance yourself from the tree trunk, “I didn’t–”

“You didn’t what?” inching closer, he sheathed his weapons, “think you’d bump into a dire bear? What if it had been something worse, huh? What then? Do you have any idea of what kind of dangers lurk in these shadows?”

Black spots dappled your vision as you just managed a faintly utter, “I’m s-sorr–,” before you collapsed. 

As the king caught you in his arms, your cloak unfurled to reveal the silks of your gown ripped and peeking out from the shreds was a grave wound on your waist. 

When you finally woke up, you weren’t in the forest any longer, but warm under the covers in your own bed.

You weren’t sure what you noticed first, the familiar surroundings or the sharp sting that throbbed at your side. Wincing silently, you pulled down the blankets and saw the clean cloths that bandaged the injury. As you carefully ran a fingertip over the dressing, a figure at the foot of the bed caught your hazy gaze. 

Slumped over on a small stool with his head resting against his folded-up arms, there sat the king, completely out cold. 

A clay pitcher of water stood on the adjacent bedside table beside a few empty cups that had a deep green tint to the glass. Carefully, as to not rouse the slumbering monarch, you reached for the jug in order to quench the thirst that scratched at your throat. As your fingertips brushed against the handle and moved it just a tad, an aching wave suddenly washed over you as the attempt stretched and disturbed your injured waist enough for you to recoil back, accidentally tugging at the decanter in the process and retroactively knocking over one of the nearby glasses.

As soon as it smashed to the stone floor, the king bolted up like he’d been struck by lightning. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you rushed as you clutched your throbbing side and leaned back against the pillows, “I just wanted something to drink.”

Still groggy, he sucked in a breath as he squinted over at you in the bed, “don’t move,” his voice was deep from sleep, “I’ll get it,” and he reached over to fill up the glass that didn’t fall to its doom, “here,” handing it to you, his eyes stayed on you as you took a sip, “how are you feeling?”

Lowing the drink to your lap, you watched the water ripple gently in the glass as you uttered, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking I’d run into any monsters, I just wanted to see the forest. I’ve never been in a real forest before, so I just–… I’m sorry…”

A low sigh flowed from the king’s lips before he asked, “how are you feeling, dove? Does it hurt badly? Because I can fetch you some herbs if it does.” 

“It’s not pleasant, but I’ll manage,” as you always did. Your pain tolerance was through the roof when it had to be, “I’m sorry.”

“Would you please stop apologising?” your tense gaze finally flickered up to meet his, “I understand you wandering out on your own, I even understand you wanting to explore the forest, but what I don’t understand is why you didn’t bring a weapon with you. I know you don’t know too much about this kingdom, but you must have a basic understanding of just how dangerous it is, especially The Noll Woods. So why didn’t you bring anything to protect yourself with?”

“What?” you blinked, “I don’t own a weapon.” 

Eyes widening, his brows shot up, “you don’t?” 

“No…” you shifted lightly under his gaze, “why are you looking at me like that?” 

Leaning forward slightly, he asked, “dove, do you not know how to fight?” 

“Why would I know how to fight?” 

“Why would you–…” he echoed faintly before lowing his gaze to the blankets spread out on the canopy bed, “gods, I knew that Obelón’s high walls helped protect its people from many creatures, but I know even that doesn’t stop the citizens from knowing the basics at least. Why didn’t you ever?” he found your eyes once more, “you’re of royal birth. Why haven’t you been in lessons since you were a child?” 

Shifting your grasp around the glass, you uttered, “…my father wouldn’t let me…” your brows were still deeply knitted as you said, “I thought it was improper for fine ladies to have such skills.” 

“It’s not,” he shook his head, “trust me. Some of the best fighters I’ve ever known were fine ladies such as yourself.” 

“Really?” you couldn’t help but inch forward a bit. 

“Yeah, my mom for one taught me a lot of what I know, as well as–…” an unreadable expression briefly washed over his features as his sentence suddenly crumbled, “well, others…” 

“I always wanted to learn,” you thought back, “used to spy on my brothers when they were training, even tried to convince Callum to teach me in secret, but none of it ever worked out… my dad always found out and then he’d–…” your gaze stayed locked on the outline of your legs beneath the covers as you felt a shiver run down your spine, “I, uhm… I learned to stop doing that. Going against his rules.” 

After he helped you place the glass back beside the pitcher, the king’s deep timbre filled the chamber once more, “…do you still wanna learn?”

The gentle wind kissed your cheeks as you squinted your eyes at the circular target close to the ivy-covered outer wall of the front courtyard. Though the training area stood nestled between the warden’s barracks and the royal stables, the king’s right-hand man had ensured that there wouldn’t be as many people crowding the common area as there usually were, a gesture you’d become thankful for as the act of learning an entirely new skill was intimidating enough without having the added commotion of experts in the field directly next to you, granting you the perspective of just how green you were. 

Over countless days, bedridden in your chambers, the wound to your side had scabbed over and healed nearly completely. Though the wait was significant, it hadn’t felt that dreary, since at the first dawn you woke, the king’s presence had been exchanged for a tall stack of meticulously selected books. The majority of them were factual records about Eflorr, the land, the history, everything that had been out of your fingertips in the library of your birthplace. But occasionally in between the tomes of the kingdom were books of completely different genres. There was a wide and worn book of fables that had whimsical illustrations on each page, a pocket-sized novel counting the mystery of a fictional rogue, as well as a collection of flowery poems. 

Letting the nocked arrow fly, it didn’t pierce itself into the bullseye your eyes were boring a hole into, but instead joined the cluster lodged in the ground. 

“I am never gonna get this,” you muttered, nearly tossing the training bow from you. 

“Oh, don’t lose hope yet, your majesty,” you twisted your neck to see Barnes standing by the small, open-style stables adjacent to where you stood, petting the cheek of the black horse that stuck its head over the fence, “you’ve only been going for a few days.” 

Drawing another arrow from the quiver not yet strapped to your back, but simply resting on the small stool scooted close, you attempted once more, and though it didn’t hit the target, the arrowhead did wedge itself in between two of the stones on the wall behind it. 

“Not bad,” your body jumped at the unexpected voice, “you’re getting closer.”

Spinning around, you saw the king, arms crossed and leaning against the building directly behind you, “your majesty!” your eyes grew to the size of saucers, “h-hello.”

“You need to relax your bow arm more,” he pushed himself off of the wall and walked up to you. 

“What?” you blinked, still slightly stunned and scrambling to catch up to the fact that he was even there. 

“Here,” he stepped up behind you and a sharp breath of air filled your lungs as his touch found the limb clutching the bow, “you need to relax this arm,” his presence ghosted against your spine as his touch adjusted your appendage to the proper angle, “and lower it just a bit,” plucking up an arrow, he too nocked it for you and let his fingers linger over yours as you drew the string back tight, “use the corner of your lips as an anchor,” as the feathery fletching tickled your cheek, you could have sworn that you felt his curled knuckle shyly brush against your features as well, “and since you’re not very brawny, try and keep a bit of tension right here, it’ll help,” his hand slid down to your waist, the other palm briefly joining on the other side before he let go of you. You could feel the gentle gust of his breath on the shell of your ear as his low voice instructed you, “give it a try.”

The arrow then soared through the air and lodged itself into the outermost ring of the target, “oh my gods,” you squealed, your body victoriously wiggling at the sight, “I did it!”

“Atta girl,” he smiled at the result, and you turned your head to gaze back at him, the fact that he hadn’t shifted back yet caused a shiver to crawl up your spine, “see? I knew you could do it,” his eyes finally flickered down to yours, though when the close proximity dawned on him, only a second passed before his feet began to move, “anyways,” clearing his throat, his vision now seemed to wander over anything but you, “uhm… good job,” he offered your upper arm a small pat, “keep it up,” then turned to the high warden still off to the side, “Buck, I need you to take a look at something for me, up in the war room.”

Giving the horse one last scratch, Barnes answered his friend, “sure thing.”

“You know the king well, correct?” you asked the soldier as he walked with you down to breakfast. At this point, you’d gotten fairly used to Barnes acting as your shadow.

“You could say that,” the corners of his lips curled up in a soft smile, “my mom was a servant here at the castle, so I essentially grew up alongside him. Then as soon as I was old enough, I joined the wardens, partly just to stay at his side. So yes, I do know him well,” he nodded slowly, “I know him very well.”

Rounding the corner, you walked down a long hallway with windows facing out toward the sea all along the right wall. Motes of dust hung suspended in the morning sunbeams that spilt into the hall, perfectly still, like flakes of gold leaf trapped in resin.

Glancing over at him once more as you stepped through one of the golden rays, you slowly opened your mouth once more, “can I ask something?”

“You can ask me anything you’d like,” he met your eye. 

“Does–…” you hesitated a moment before averting your gaze to gather up the courage to utter, “does the king have someone else?”

Gently cocking his head, Barnes echoed, “someone else?”

“Does he have someone else?” you repeated, sensing heat creep up in your cheeks.

“Oh, uh,” he breathed as you reached the end of the hallway and he stretched out his arm to push open the door you’d arrived at, “no, not that I know of.”

As he opened the door to the smaller of the dining rooms for you to enter, you noticed that you’d been unconsciously gnawing at the inner part of your bottom lip till it nearly bled and you forced yourself to stop, “alright…”

When you crossed over the threshold, Barnes stayed put on the other side, though offered you a small nod before the heavy doors fell shut behind you. 

Turning to face the long table centred in the chamber, your eyes suddenly grew wide as an unexpected figure sat on the far end. 

“Good morning,” the king glanced up at you as he popped the piece of strawberry lodged on the tip of his fork into his mouth. 

“Your majesty! I–, I–…” you blinked a second, finding it impossible to get your feet to move the last few paces over to your set place, “I thought you took your breakfast up in your personal chambers.”

“Felt like a change in scenery today,” he plucked up a porcelain cup filled with steaming tea and brought it to his lips, though paused before taking a sip, “is that alright?”

“Of course, it is,” a shudder ran through you as you shook yourself out of your stupor and sat down at the table. 

A generous spread of options layed arced around your empty plate. From seasonal fruits, cut up and arranged on an oblong platter, to hearty bread, sliced and toasted, propped up for it to stay crisp, the selection never ceased to make your belly rumble in want. 

When your plate was filled up and you slowly began to pick away at it, the king’s voice suddenly echoed from the other end of the table. 

“Are you busy this afternoon?”

“Busy?” you lifted your gaze and sent it down past the short floral centrepiece to look at him, “no, your majesty, not in particular. Why do you ask?”

His elbow was propped against the edge of the table and his hand gently rested against his beard as he continued to stare at you, “I was wondering if you’d care to promenade with me.”

“I know it doesn’t look like much from this angle,” the king pointed to the dark cave entrance on the cliff that the castle stood upon, “but that emergency exit has saved countless monarchs.”

“So, the tunnel leads up to the basement?” you glanced down to the part of the coastline still a ways further down the pebbly beach.

“Yep, opens up into the wine cellar, it’s actually one of the racks that’s concealed as the door down.”

Glancing up at him as you slowly walked beside one another, an amused smile curled up on your lip, “clever.”

“Yeah, my mom thought so, she was the one who implemented it.”

The corners of your lips then dropped back down, and you waited a second before asking softly, “when did she pass?”

“A while ago now…” his vision briefly flickered down to look at the waves foam at the shore, “anyways, I’d recommend taking a guide with you if you’re gonna go exploring in the cave because it can be easy to get lost if you didn’t grow up with it as your playground.” 

“I’ll remember that,” a faint chuckle bubbled out of you.

The pebbles crunched beneath your slow stride as you made your way down the beach, closer and closer to where the fort loomed and the docks beyond flourished into the bustling city. 

After he’d bent down to pick up a smooth, dark rock, the royal then spoke in a slightly apprehensive tone, “hey, I actually wanted to talk to you about something…”

Noticing that his stride had halted, you stopped as well, “yes, your majesty?”

His gaze stayed on the small rock in his palm as he turned it a few times, “I know I haven’t exactly been the warmest towards you, I haven’t given you any solid reason to trust or even like me,” his ocean eyes then lifted to meet yours, “but we are supposed to rule together, be a team. So, I propose that we call a truce. Let’s start over and try and be friends,” his broad hand then extended. 

Clasping your fingers around his palm, you shook on it, “truce,” and a small smile bloomed as you then returned to your walk.

Your eyes didn’t stray long from him, staring at him inquisitively till he, on a glance, noticed.

“What?”

“It’s just,” you squinted over at the man walking beside you, the water gentle and calm behind him, “I don’t even really know you…”

“Well,” he breathed, as if that setback was easy enough to remedy, “what would you like to know?”

“I don’t know…” as you continued to stare at him, your fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the opalescent stone attached to the chain hanging from your neck, “tell me everything.”

“Everything?” his eyebrows raised a second before he exhaled lowly, “alright… uhm,” he then lowered his gaze as he scrambled his brain, “my favourite colour is blue. I can’t stand pears,” he began to list off, “I know I don’t look it now, but I was a very scrawny kid, sick all the time. I’m excellent at skipping rocks, actually learned how to just down there from an old family friend. What else… uh, I don’t have a lot of free time, but the little I do, I tend to either read, history in particular, as well as draw or paint, whenever I have the chance.”

“Paint?” you chuckled as that was one of the last things you thought he’d say. 

“Yes,” he nodded, “not many, but a few of my pieces are strung up around the castle.”

“I will have to keep my eye out for those, your majesty,” you smiled. 

“Oh, and please, no more of that,” he pleaded, “you shouldn’t call me your majesty any longer, we’re friends now,” he momentarily turned to toss the rock into the rippling sea, and a small ring bloomed on the surface as it delved in, “you are my wife,” the corners of his lips tugged upwards as he faced you once more, “you should call me by my name.”

“Alright, Steve,” the name felt oddly intimate on your tongue, “I’ll try my best to do better.”

As he smiled down at you, a shadow suddenly soared across the sky above both of your heads. Lifting your eyes to the clouds above, they swiftly went wide in fear as you saw the creature that flew straight towards the village. 

“Oh gods, is that a–”

“Dragon,” Steve uttered before you could. 

The winged behemoth of a beast had scales like the darkest tree bark, but in the sunlight it soared through, they shined regally like an oil spill. 

Grabbing you by the hand as warning bells rang out over the seaside community, Steve dragged you with him and he addressed the two wardens that had lingered a few paces back while you both were out, “take her inside, through the cave, stay low, away from any windows.”

“Yes, my liege,” they swiftly replied and moved to defend you, but as the king’s grasp left yours, you reached out to halt him.

“Wait!” your fingers rushed to snag your lucky charm off, “here,” and you layed the fine necklace into his open palm before finding his eyes one last time and uttering, “please don’t die.”

Closing his fist around the jewel, he offered you a grave nod before the wardens led you into the cave and the king rushed down the banks and up the algae-slick steps that led up to the harbour. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[bluemoon-fever]

pas de deux sneak peek | steve rogers

pairing: choreographer!steve rogers x ballerina!reader

summary: After receiving acclaim in your dance company's production of Sleeping Beauty, you audition for the principal role in its newest production, Giselle, and catch the eye of your attractive, new choreographer.

warnings: none

word count: 534 words

notes: i've been sitting on this for almost two years, and after re-reading it today, i decided to publish this sneak peek and see if there's interest in this. as a former ballerina, this is a passion piece for me, so please let me know what you think! <3 (initially wrote this as an ofc so if there's errors, my b!)

Someone was watching you. It took you a while, but when you finally realized it, your dancing changed.

You were always so sure that no one was in the building at this time. It was far too early. You loved coming in the studio early, doing warmups, choreographing ballets you were too nervous to ever present, and physically baring your soul to the three floor-to-ceiling mirrors that surrounded you. But now, someone knew your secret, and they were watching you at your most vulnerable.

As much as you wanted to cut the music, grab your bags, and flee the room, you couldn’t. The stakes were way too important. If you wanted to be Giselle, your lifelong dream, you had to stay and practice until your feet fell off.

This was your first audition where you had to perform a piece for the director and choreographer. It was new to you, and frankly, you loved the idea. It emboldened you to pick a piece from one of your secret choreographed ballets, especially one so ethereal and heartbreaking. 

You began choreographing this piece when your heart first shattered into pieces. As you worked on the pieces, you felt the pieces of your heart slowing finding its way to each other, waiting for the glue to put it together. On the night you choreographed your favorite eight-count, you broke down in tears. Every time you performed that section that night, tears welled into your eyes until you was too emotionally exhausted to continue dancing. 

Whoever was watching your dancing was entranced by you. They felt directly connected to you and the emotion that lied within your movement. You didn’t feel cruel judgment as you continued dancing under their watchful eyes. If it was Gia or a member of her entourage, they would’ve snickered loud enough to break your concentration. If it was Pierre, he would promptly tell you to go home and get rest. 

This person felt foreign to you, but you didn’t mind dancing for them. Your nervousness quickly subsided, and you wanted to give them a show. To make up for your hyper-vigilance, you put more emotion into your movement. All of the emotions you felt while choreographing this piece rose to the surface like lava finally exploding out of a volcano. Yet no tears stained your cheeks. Your tears came in the form of arabesques, grand jetes, and a series of the best pirouettes you had ever performed in your life. 

When you finished, you let out a loud exhale. You had stopped breathing unintentionally, and something told you the person watching did as well. Although you couldn’t see them beyond the one-way window, you knew they were moved by your performance. If they didn’t want to endanger their position, they would’ve clapped and sang praises for the performance. Instead, you (correctly) imagined them walking away stunned, unable to forget what they saw.

You felt proud in yourself and your capabilities. You weren’t the only person who knew your true potential. All of your anxieties had subsided in this moment. You weren’t worried about the other dancers or being reduced to a member of the corps. 

You were Giselle, in more ways than one.

[lettalady]

Word prompt challenge if it sparks anything:

"that look was priceless"

Word prompt challenge: Send me a word or phrase and I'll write a story.

Hmmmm not sure why, nonnie dear, but this line very much makes me think of Boston Boy - the son of the Crime Lord of Massachusetts. Eventually he'll take the reigns from his father, but until then he's sitting pretty in the ranks of the organization.

Did I say sitting pretty? Shhhh don't need to feed that ego of his.

"You're gonna put that back." His warning is low, meant for you alone. If he didn’t have you snared by the wrist you might’ve had a chance of disappearing into the crowd. Can you still manage a quick... The thought dies as soon as you zero in on his face. Those stark blue eyes send a chill down your spine.   You play up the society-girl vibe while fighting to suppress the instinct screaming to RUN from this man with violence in his eyes. "What? I don’t…”  “That look is precious. Hand it over.” Last ditch efforts be damned, you cling to the lie even though he’s called you on it. He claims he’s caught you red handed but at the moment your hands are empty. “You got the wrong girl, guy." There’s a brief shifting to the dead space that is his gaze, but in a blink the cold menace has returned. “Uh-huh. Don't pull that with me. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You’re gonna give my buddy back his wallet, and then you’re gonna march your little Louie knockoffs around the floor and give ‘em back what you took from the rest of them. All. Of. It.”  All of it? Incredulity makes you drop the act and simply stare at him. Codfish, meet shark. If you return all of it you’re dead. Maybe not tonight, or tomorrow, but soon. But… Trust Fund Psycho’s watch could help win just a little leeway. You might not score big again like you thought was happening tonight, but you’ll figure something out. That’s the way the world works. Fuck this night and this Boston boy in particular. Putting on the air of defeat, you make sure to appear expectedly – and legitimately, too – crestfallen, dipping your chin in a nod of acknowledgement that you’ll do as he orders. Praying for perfect timing praying praying and yes the latch of his watch releases just as he loosens his grip to send you on your way.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Can I Count on Forever? ~ Chris Evans

Chris Evans x Senator Reader

Word Count ~ 4.2K

Songs: The Man by Taylor Swift; Paper Rings by Taylor Swift; Lover by Taylor Swift 

Its been three years since you met Chris and today, you take one of the biggest steps of your life.

Part Three of the "Can I?" mini series - Part One // Part Two // Main Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, SMUT (p in v, oral – female receiving, slight dominance kink), mentions of cheating, accusations of cheating, political nonsense. 

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Just a quick message. While I have tried to keep this politically neutral, I will say that I have no idea what any real-world person’s views are and will not assume. Also, I am not an expert in politics and will not claim to be.  In the US, we have an election in November. Please, inform yourself on all of your local, state and federal races and issues and remember to register and vote.  You can’t complain if you don’t vote! 

Your POV 

Clack.  

Clack.  

Clack.  

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked to your destiny. It was the end of a fairy tale or the start of one, and you weren’t sure if you could get through the double doors. You thought back on your life, closed your eyes and prayed.  

It had been a year since Chris proposed and it was here, your wedding day.  As you woke on that bright May morning, you reached for your fiancé and found the bed empty.  But a smile crossed your face.  He wasn’t in the hotel with you.  He was at home with Dodger and his groomsmen while you were at the hotel with your bridal party.  As you stretched, there was a knock at the door.  “Room service!” 

Curiously, you opened the door, and the bellman pushed a cart in. “Mr. Evans asked us to deliver breakfast and champagne to you to start your special day right.  Congratulations ma’am.”  He stepped back out and you squealed.  Opening the cover, Chris had sent your favorite breakfast, along with coffee and champagne. Savoring the meal, you sent a text to Chris.  

YN: Thank you, love, for my breakfast!  My fiancé: You’re welcome.  Only six more hours before I see you again and you make an honest man outta me.  

You hugged the phone to your chest when your maid of honor knocked yelling for you to open.  

A few hours later, you were waiting in your bridal suite, your father comes in and sees you for the first time.  “Oh, my baby, you look beautiful,” tears forming in his eyes  

“Thank you, daddy,” your own tears welling up.  

“No, don’t cry.”  He handed you a tissue.  “Chris is a lucky man. I am so happy you found each other.”  

The wedding planner knocked.  “We’re ready for you.”  

As you stood at the double doors, you thought back to how you got here. How you fought for each other, against the world. The doors opened and all you could see was Chris.  

Chris POV 

I stood at the altar, waiting for those doors to open again and let my beautiful girl come to me. The past three years had been a whirlwind, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  All the bridesmaids make it down the aisle and little Stella finishes with her flowers and the music changes.  Everyone stands and the doors open. My jaw falls open. I can’t see anything else but her. She’s an angel, all in white, gliding on her dad’s arm. The tears are building up in my eyes at how beautiful she looked, my little senator.  

Once she reached me, I could feel a tear rolling down and she reached up and wiped it away.  “Please stop crying,” she whispered.  “You’re gonna set me off.”  

I could see her lip tremble a little bit.  I kissed her hand, "I love you," I whispered.  

We kept it traditional, reciting words that have been said by couples like us thousands of times over.  When I slip that ring on her finger, it was like a part of me that was missing got put back and I’m overwhelmed.  

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.  Chris, you may kiss your bride.” 

“Finally,” I breathed as I took her face in my hands and kissed those lips that had haunted my dreams since the first day I met her. It was perfect and when I pulled away, her lips were just a touch redder and more swollen, her eyes danced.  

“I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Evans!” 

The whole church cheered, and I took my wife’s hand in mine and walked out. After three years and one horrible misunderstanding, I finally have my girl on my arm as my wife.  

The reception is amazing.  YN and the wedding planner did a great job. It's intimate and romantic but not over the top.  Her father wanted to take out a house loan to pay for whatever YN wanted but she refused. “I don’t need you to be in debt Daddy.  Give me a reasonable budget and I’ll make it work.” That is my girl, always modest. But this is a once in a lifetime, if I have any say in it and I want it to be her dream. I talked to her dad on the side.  

“Mr. YLN, I just want YNN to have everything she wants, so get your budget together and I’ll double it. I want this to be a gift to her but never find out, because her smile will be my thanks.”  

It worked like a charm because I can see the tears in her eyes as she looks at the room and see her vision come to life. “Oh my...” she whispers. I take it all in, the crystal vases holding the red roses, tea lights on all the tables. The walls have a soft light to them, and the dance floor is decorated with lanterns and rose petals.  “It's perfect.”  

“It's you, my beautiful wife.” 

It's hours before I can take her home, well, to our honeymoon suite.  She’s exhausted, riding up in the elevator. I scoop her up in my arms, her heels already dangling in my hand. “You going to sleep, baby?” 

“Hmm, no, not yet. Just tired.” She smiles at me. “It was the perfect day.”  

“Oh yeah? Something important happened?” I tease as we get to our honeymoon suite.  

“Not really,” she shrugged. “Just tied myself to the perfect man.”  

“Sounds fun.” I had one more surprise for her. I opened the door and carried her in. The room was decorated in candles and roses, a bottle of champagne next to her favorite snack.  I had always dreamt of that night we had by the fire after I had proposed.  It was perfect and I wanted to recreate it for her.  Except this time, the hotel laid out blankets and pillows in a beautiful bed.  

“Chris,” she whispered, and I could tell she loved it. 

I set her on her feet and pressed my front to her back. I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I was an idiot the first time I made love to you in front of a fire.”  I found the zipper on her dress and slowly began to bring it down. “I was apologizing for being the biggest jerk in the world after you protected me. I wasn’t appreciating the setting or taking my time with you.  But this time,” the zipper was down and i kissed her shoulders, “this time I want to worship you because you made me the happiest man in the world.”  I pushed the bejeweled straps of her gown down and she gasped at the sudden cool air.  

“Oh fuck,” I murmured as I took in the lacy white corset, teeny tiny white panties and stockings. She looked like a goddam angel that was going to send me straight to heaven.  I lifted her out of the gown and spun her to look at me. “This is like a present for me,” as I run a finger over the top of the corset.  

“Unwrap me Chris,” she said in a low sultry voice.  

And I crumble.  

Because there is no way I would say no to this gorgeous creature right now.  

I kiss her softly and pull away, kissing her forehead before turning her around again. I undo the ribbon holding the corset closed and let it fall away.  I kneel down and roll down the stocking and tip her foot so she can lift, and I can remove one stocking, repeating on the other.  I run my hands up her legs, feeling her shiver under my touch, listening to her breath hitch. I kiss right under each cheek, giving a nibble on one.  

“Chris,” she moans, “stop teasing.”  

“Is that an order Senator?” I smile against her skin. “Or is it a request?  Because,” I spin her again, so she is facing me while I’m still on my knees, “if it's an order, then we have a problem.”  

“What problem?” 

“I remember you promised me that I would only take orders from you in public.”  I kissed around her belly button. She moans and her head tilts back. “But I would give the orders in our bedroom.”  

“We’re not in our bedroom,” she argues.  “We’re... oh.... oh fuck,” she whimpers as I kiss over the scrape of lace she calls panties and press against her mound.  

“Want to try that again, Mrs. Evans?” I pull the lace down just enough so I can get my nose close to her center and inhale that scent that is only her.  

“I...” she studders and I chuckle. I yank the lace away from her body, ripping them off.  

“Chris!” 

“No,” I say in a husky voice.  “No orders from you, Mrs. Evans.  You want something, you beg for it.  because until we get back from our honeymoon, you are not in charge.  Who is in charge?” 

“Fuck,” she cries as I let my finger circle her clit.  “You’re...hmm... you’re in charge.”  

“Good girl.” I stood up and lifted her into my arms, wrapping her legs around me. “Such a good girl for me.” I walked us over to the fireplace bed and laid her down.  I took a long look at my prize, my angel, my wife. “God, I’m a lucky bastard.”  

I didn’t realize I said that out loud until she giggled. Then she grabbed the end of my undone bow tie and yanked me on top of her. She kissed me hard and then pulled away. “Please Chris, let me see my husband naked.”  

“Fuck me.” I pulled the tie off, straddled her and grabbed her wrists. I tied them together and lifted her arms above the head. “Naughty girl,” I said. “No touching now. Bad girls don’t get to touch.” She wiggled under me, trying to get relief from me.  

“I’m sorry, baby, please, I’m sorry. Let me touch you.”  

“No.” I stood up and started to strip. I unbutton my shirt slowly, working the cufflinks she had given me as a wedding present off carefully. She licked her bottom lip and I smirked. I was shirtless, which, if she had her way, she would keep me like this every day. I moved quickly with my belt and the button of my slacks.  She whimpered and I bit my bottom lip. “You should have stayed being my good girl, little senator.” 

“Chris, you’re being mean,” she whined.  

“Am I?” I let my pants hit the floor before I crawled up her body.  I kiss her inner thighs, sucking little bruises as I go. “I’m sorry sweetheart.” I kiss right above her clit, and she bucks at the sensation. I pin her hips and licked from the bottom to the top of her pussy. God, I love the way she tastes, the way she coats my tongue in her arousal. Fuck, do I love being in between her legs. “So good,” I tell her, “taste like heaven.”  I work my tongue in her, fucking her while my thumb presses down on her clit. “Fuck baby, you’re even tight for my tongue.”  

“Chris,” she mewled.  She was close, so fucking close.  

“Come for me little senator. That’s an order.”  I shoved two fingers into her cunt and sucked on her clit at the same time.  she shattered, crying out as her orgasm fluttered through her body. I made it last for as long as I could. I tease her relentlessly and get her right back on the edge. Then i pull away and she cries in frustration because I know her orgasm is fading.  I climb up her body, tasting every inch of skin I can until I can wrap her legs around my waist. “Hang on, baby.”  

She grips the straps around her wrists and then I force my way home.  She screams as I bury myself in her to the hilt.  But I’m not cruel.  I wait until she is comfortable and then rock into her, leting her feel every inch, every ridge, every vein of my cock along her ways. Fuck, she feels so good. I’ve only fucked her bare a couple of times and the feeling of her heat, how wet, how needy she is, I’m going to fucking die a happy man.  

“Harder Chris, fuck, please harder.” I grab her legs and push them over my shoulder so I can fuck her into the mattress.  She feels like fucking heaven and tighter in this position. I can’t believe I get to do this with my wife. She’s moaning and crying out from all the stimulation.  I don’t want to ever stop.  

Your POV 

Chris is fucking you to within an inch of your life.  You are in heaven, lost in the heavenly glow of sex and you need him.  “Chris, please,” you pleaded.  You know what he wants because you want it too.  He pulls out quick, making you cry before he flips you to your front and gets your ass in the air.  

“This pussy is magically,” he says, looking it over before he fills you again.  You have always loved this angle. You can feel everything and when he moves, you can feel his balls hitting your clit.  Its perfect.  

“C-chris, I can’t hold on,” you whine. “Husband please!” 

“Oh shit,” he moans, “that’s fucking hot.” He thrusts faster. “Say it again. Say! It!” 

You’re on the cusp of euphoria. “Chris, Husband please!” He ruts into you, reaching down to circle and stroke your clit and you break. You scream your release, gripping his cock, squeezing him until he released into you, coating you in his cum.  

“Fuck!” He pumps a few more times until he stops, lowering you gently to the bed, not ready to separate. You lay there on your sides, legs tangles to keep you connected, catching your breaths when you start to giggle.  “And what is so funny, my wife?” 

You take a breath to speak.  “You have a kink, baby. You like it when I called you husband.” You turn to look back at him. 

He smiles before leaning over and kissing you again. “I also like calling you Wife and you like it too. You clenched involuntarily and Chris hisses. He caressed your thigh. “Told you.”  

After Chris cleans you up and you both crawl into bed, you find myself laying on top of his chest. “I wish we could stay this way forever.” You place a kiss on his chest.  

“I wish we could too, little Senator, but then how will you rule the world?” 

Its a valid question. One you are excited to figure out.  

You’ve been married for two months and now you are at the National Convention. Getting married during an election season was crazy but your team and Chris’s said it would give you the best boost.  You were set to become the youngest and second woman nominated for the office of President.   

As you stood in the wings of TD Gardens in Boston, Chris watched as you paced back and forth, looking over your note cards for your acceptance speech. “Sweetheart, don’t be nervous.”  

“That’s easy for you, Chris, you’re an actor.  You perform for millions.”  

He chuckled and shook his head. “I act in front of a camera for twenty people and then they watch after its edited. YN,” he stopped you and wrapped you in his arms. “You are a brilliant speaker. The people have nominated you, they believe in you.  I believe in you.” He tilted your head up so you would look at him.  “Go out there and be a rock star, Little Senator.”  

The convention went off without a hitch and it was the final three months of the campaign. It was grueling, city after city, town hall after town hall.  Chris could only be on the road with you for a few days at a time as ASP launched into the primer source for facts in the election.  He had to host panels and discussions. Video chats in between calls and meet and greets was not how you imagined your first few months of marriage but it could all be worth it. 

Chris POV 

I was late for our video date. “Fuck.” I was jogging to my office in the ASP offices so I could call YN, when I was stopped by Megan. “What’s up?” 

“Chris, there is an article floating around that claims the Senator had an affair right before the wedding.”  

My heart stopped.  

“What?” 

“The Enquirer has photos of her entering a hotel room that did not belong to the campaign. The room was rented out by someone named M. Capuano.” 

We made it to my office. I closed the door. “What does my wife’s team said?” 

Megan grimaced. “That’s the thing. They said they aren’t worried about it. Rachel said that she spoke to the Senator and if questioned, they are going with no comment.”  

I smiled. “That’s my girl. We’re saying the same thing, Megan. Thanks.” I turned to pick up my phone.  

Megan scoffed.  “There is no way we can go with no comment, Chris. They will tear her apart. You have to talk to her about.  She’s just not bringing herself down but you as well.”  

“I’ll talk to her. Give me five minutes.” Megan rolled her eyes and left my office as I called my wife. “Hello, my little Senator.”  

“Hi handsome!” She was flushed from running for her phone. She was heartbreakingly beuatfiul, her cream colored blouse clung to her curves that I love and gave just the hint of clevage. “How were your discussions?”   

“Really good, looks like the live numbers will be out highest yet.” I smirk. “Execpt for my last meeting.”  

She frowned. “With who?” 

“Megan. She wanted to bring attention to the fact that there is an article going aroung saying my wife is having an affair.”  

YN gasped. “Chris, you know I would never...” 

“I was nervous for just a second and then she told me the name the room was reserved under and it took everything in me not to laugh.” 

She looked confused. “I don’t understand.” 

“Sweetheart, remember when you had a swing in Virginia and I was able to see you and we kept it on the low.”  

“Yes,” she dragged out.  

“Well I couldn’t reserve the room under either of our names so my uncle helped me and reserve the room for me. M. Capuano. Uncle Mike.”  

I watched as the realization clicked. “Oh my gosh, they think I am having an affair with M. Capuano but really I’m having an affair with my husband.”  

I smirk as she laughs. “I don’t know what you are laughing at Senator. You’re having an affair.”  

“I sure am. The man really is hard to resist. Dark gripable hair, a beard that feels so good on my skin. Bluest eyes I ever seen. He’s built and has those arms that can hold you to him all night long.”  

“Fuck sweetheart, you can’t say stuff like when when I don’t have time right now.” I looked at my calendar on my computer. “I can be with you tomorrow morning and stay through the weekend.”  

“I’m looking forward to it Mr. Affair.”  

“I’m going to rock your world Mrs. Affair.  I love you.”  

“I love you more.”  

YN POV 

You’re nervous.  

This day is always nerve-racking.  

This isn’t your first one either.  

And hopefully it isn’t your last.  

Its election day. 

While you hadn’t given up your senate seat yet, it was something you were willing to do if the right opportunity presented itself. Say, being the President of the United States.  

But first, you needed to be elected there. You were back in California, awaiting for the results. Votes were being tally, the electoral college was making its decision and all you could do was wait.  

Which is not the easiest thing to do.  

Chris had been on the phone with his ASP team, checking results in major battleground states, counts on issues that were concerning to younger Americans. Every time he looked up to you, he would you a smile and mouth “i love you” to try and calm your nerves. Three years of this and he knew how to calm your nerves.  

The campaign had been hard, a woman running against an older, backward thinking man. The scandal of the car photos came back into play but your opponents own philandering with a woman not his wife, nullified that right away.  You had no secrets, other than your relationship with Chris.  You were caareful to only show what you wanted to the public to know.  Chris was or rather still is a famous movie star. He may have slowed down his films but he was never not working. ASP was his pride and joy, besides you, and it relected on how much the platform grew.  

It was nearing 8pm in California and the states were starting to be called. Every political forecaster predicted this race to be the tightest its ever seen. No one expected you to receive the nomination.  No one expected to make it this far. No one believe. Except Chris.  

He believed in you.  

You can feel him right behind you before he wraps his arms around you.  “Did you ever imagine being here Senator?” 

You shake your head. “I imagined a lot of things. I had dreams. But, to do this with you, now,” you look up at him, “I never imagined it like this.”  

For hours, you and. your family stood around, watching results. Chris mentioned that you should rest but you were too keyed up to lie down or even sit down. Hour after hour passed and the race was down to the final couple of states. Then the news anchor interrupted the talking heads on the news.  

“We are now prepared to make the call in Oregon. This evening has been historic in so many ways. But now we are ready to declare Oregon for...” 

Clack.  

Clack.  

Clack.  

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked to your destiny. You assumed it would be hard, to run for president. To deal with the fall out. Your opponent had been cordial in his speech. He talked about uniting the country and not letting politics create a divide.  He was right, the country had to come together now and move forward.  

Chris POV 

Watching my girl waiting to be taken to her seat for the ceremony, it was heart wrenching.  She was so stoic and unnaturally quiet. She had on a beautiful red dress with white accents and her coat was the same blue as the american flag. She had been so brave through all of this. She kept her head up and was gracious. The embodiment of class.  She just had one more thing to do before we could move forward.  

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” 

“I’m scared,” she whispered.  

“Don’t be.  I’m right here.” I took her hand and we were walked to our seats. The ceremony was beautiful in the cold January air.  We listened to the poet laureate and the national anthem done by Taylor Swift. But then it was our cue, to do the part of the ceremony as instructed by the head of the inguration committee.  I smiled as I held out the bible, open to her favorite passage.  

I watched as my girl placed her hand on the bible and then raised her right hand.  

I, YN YMN Evans, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God.” 

The roar of the crowd sounded as she finished her oath. I leaned over to kiss my wife, my president. “Congratulation, madam President.”  

“Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting the new President of the United States and new First Gentleman, YN and Chris Evans!” 

Walking out to the inagural ball is surreal. This was our life now for the next four years. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.  As Harry Styles sang Adore You for us again, I held my wife in my arms. “Did you count on this, madam President.” 

She frowned for a second. “I don’t know if i like you callng me that. But no,” she smiled. “I was only counting on you.”  

“You can always count on me, love. Count on it forever.”  

“Just as long as I’m still your forever.”  She sighed as she leaned against me.  “Still not sure about the madam president thing.” 

“How about in public, you are madam President, but in private,” I spin her around and draw her close again, ��you’ll always be my little senator.” 

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[k-evans-reads]

The Spare

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Summary: When Princess Rosie unexpectedly is thrust into a political tour of the country, a working-class Air Force Captain is assigned to be her pilot. Although the princess is unhappy about the decision, she realizes she’s stepping into unknown territory when the unexpected happens

Intro l Main Masterlist | The Spare Masterlist

By @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

Word Count: 5,672

The door shut firmly behind the Princess’ Private Secretary, leaving the four highest-ranking members of the Royal Family in the oversized room alone. An uneasy silence lingered past the echo’s reverberation, only adding to Rosalie’s anxiety. She shifted on the plush cushion, running her hand along and smoothing her skirt as she cleared her throat and looked towards her father, asking, “What did you hear from the doctor? Do they know for sure what’s going on?”

The prim-and-proper King was unusually disheveled, wearing a wrinkled dress shirt, bare feet, and unstyled hair. It was always ingrained in the Royal Family from a young age that they were to uphold the image, the one of privilege, beauty, and elegance. She could still remember from a young age the uncomfortable hours on end she’d stand straight at parades, waving and smiling at each cheering member of the public as her feet ached and cried for relief. But as the years went on, the more strict the rules would become. Seeing the vast juxtaposition of the way her father looked now only reminded her how serious this was.

Her brow arched as she took her father’s appearance in more - the heaviness in his expression, the rigidity of his frown, the hunch of his shoulders. “They’re still looking into things further but what they know for sure is that it was a heart attack,” King Joseph began, pausing as his eyes danced over the portraits of their ancestors hanging from the walls around them. Then, Rosie felt a pang of sympathy as the familiar mask slipped over Joseph, as if an outsider or staffer walked into the room - the way the tension and strain left his body in a microsecond as he sat up straight, his frown leaving his face. “They think I’ll be fine but I probably do need some time to recover.”

A soft tut echoed from her mother’s lips - one that barely toed the line of daring to challenge him - before Genevieve gently corrected his words to their children, “No, they told him he had to have time to recover.”

Rosie’s head turned to look at James as he opened his mouth, but then took a beat then let out a breath as he delicately asked, “So what does that look like?”

The tension returned to Joseph’s body and in Rosalie’s stomach as reality set in for everyone. Everyone knew that this was a lot more than just a family worried about their father’s health, it meant so much for them and the country and she couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach as he answered, “Probably a month off completely.” The King admitted unhappily to the Prince and Princess. Subconsciously, her posture straightened as his eyes landed on her, and she avoided the desire to avert her eyes under his occasionally-scrutinizing gaze. “Which would mean that I do need you to take over my duties during that time, and Rosalie, I will need you to officially take James’ spot on the tour. I know you were hoping that you wouldn’t have to fill in but I am going to need you.”

“It’s fine, we want to do what we can to help you recover,” she began, pausing as she struggled with how to word her concerns. Navigating a relationship with her father had always been a little bit difficult when they had moments that were more normal and familial and others that were all business. Royal life may have been hailed as glamorous and exciting, but Rosie knew how complicated and burdensome it could be. At times they felt like a real family, loving and caring for one another and having honest conversations but other times, they had to stay restrained, knowing that no matter what, the crown always came first. The truth of the matter was that - at times - her father’s role and actions intimidated her. Rarely did she have the loving paternal figure at her side as a child, more often under the care of the Palace nannies while her parents fulfilled their roles. Her thumbs itched to fiddle nervously but she restrained herself, instead finally asking, “What are we going to do about touring the coast with all the protests going on? Are we cutting that out?”

The King nodded, his lips pursed as he sprung into what was likely an already prepared response, “Well I think-”

But Genevieve rested her hand on the King’s arm, causing him to cut off as she reminded him, “No, you need to let James decide. He’s the one who’s taking on your duties, remember?”

A huff of air left his lips as he nodded shortly. “You’re right,” he conceded. “James, what do you want to do?”

The eldest was quiet for a long beat, his fingers tapping lightly on the plush arm of the couch. He stared straight ahead as he thought, his eyes landing on one of the portraits as well until his gaze turned to her, asking, “Rosie, do you have thoughts?”

A smirk appeared on her lips as she looked at James, catching the amusement in his eyes at the action. “Cancel the tour and don’t make me go,” she muttered playfully, ignoring the frustrated sigh from both of her parents.

“Very funny,” James chided, lightly elbowing Rosie in the hip as her father stared at her plainly.

But Rosie shook her head, her eyes staring at James. “You know I’m not kidding,” she reminded him. She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes quickly moving over her father before she looked at James again, remembering her earlier conversations with him about their younger sister. “I do terrible on these things anyway, I think Annie should go instead.”

Quickly, the King interrupted the siblings, declaring, “That’s not happening, Anneliese is too young and inexperienced.”

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Rosie thought back to how different things had been for Annie as compared to herself and James’ childhoods. While Rosie and James spent much of their adolescence bouncing in and out of boarding schools, then stepping into international tours accompanied by the King and Queen, Annie had it different. She often was left behind at home, seen as “too young” while her siblings juggled their prestigious and elite schooling with the duties of active royals, despite their adolescence. There’d always been this double standard, and while she would do anything to keep Annie as far from the machine of Royal life, she wished she had the same choice for herself.

James simply arched an eyebrow, looking at the King and reminding him, “Aren’t I making the decisions here?”

But Joseph scowled, pointing out, “Well I haven’t heard you make one yet.”

Several beats of silence passed, the tension rising between James, Rosie, and Joseph. Finally, James huffed out a breath, running his hand over his shirt. “….Rosie you have to go,” he murmured, avoiding her eyes.

There was silence for a moment and Rosie could see how pleased James’ decision made their father. But despite that, she could see the struggle in James’ face as he contended with putting his sister or her duty first. “If we cut out the coastline visits though, then it would only be a month,” she began quietly, watching James carefully. “We would avoid the protests, and then I’d be back and dad can do the rest once he’s better. This seems like a great solution.”

Both father and son rolled their eyes at Rosie’s insistence in getting her way. She was steadfast in the fact that for four years now, she’d done more than her fair share of public service - spending more time on airplanes, trains, ships, and in cars than in her own bed. She’d missed so much, she missed her friends, getting to focus her efforts on her charity outreaches, and getting to see Annie grow into the young woman she was now. But despite that, it seemed no one else realized the toll covering for James and Joseph had taken on her.

“More like a great way of you getting out of this,” James retorted, his voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire next to them and the echo of footsteps passing by outside the closed door.

But Rosie’s brows furrowed at James’ words, frustration rising as her opinion continued to be ignored. “When James got back I was supposed to finally get a break,” she reminded them, her voice quiet but firm. And that had been the deal - she had graduated from university, then was thrown into four years of public duty with no downtime to breathe, all so James could serve in the Air Force. Any time she brought up needing a few days to herself, it had always been “Once James is home, you can… you’ll have all the time you need.” It seemed as though that promise was not only empty, but had been forgotten.

But the look in her father’s eyes showed Rosie that he remembered that promise - and yet he was continuing to break his word. “I’m sorry Rosalie,” he began, pausing delicately before adding, “But the positive of me being less visible while I recover is that it gives you the chance to be more involved.”

A scoff escaped Rosie’s lips and she didn’t care to stop it, letting her anger rise a bit. “What have I been doing the last four years, then?” She asked incredulously.

“You’ve been standing in James’ place and in his shadow but this is your chance to be Princess Rosalie, all on her own and be who you are, not fulfilling James’ role,” Joseph tried to reason with her, and she arched a single brow at him. Standing on her own, outside of James’ shadow?! As much as they all liked to pretend it wasn’t the case, she’d always been and always would be in his shadow. The first-born, golden child of Ellington. She’d never hold it against him, but she didn’t think there was a single conversation she’d ever had with anyone, whether other dignitaries, tutors, or acquaintances, where James wasn’t brought up despite his absence. When you’re constantly reminded of being the second-best, the spare, and the insurance when compared to the eldest, who had their own miserable circumstances as well. It was all impossible, and it seemed Rosie stepped on the Palace’s lines much more than anyone had in the past.

Heavy was the head that wore the crown, but the pressure forced upon Rosie seemed to rival it, even on the best days.

“I think we all know I can’t be who I am,” she started, her voice quivering in her rising frustration. She ran a hand along her skirt, fingers coming to rest on an errant strand of fabric that her seamstress evidently missed. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult, we just all know that none of this is me. I was happy to stand in for James while he did what he wanted being in the Air Force but I thought that it was finally my chance to have some space.”

James’ eyes showed the weight on him, the internal struggle between duty and family. He cleared his throat quietly before whispering, “It’s only two more months, Rosie.”

“It just seems like there’s always something else. You think it’ll be the end and then the rug gets pulled out from under you,” Rosie muttered, her fingers lightly twisting the fabric, careful to not pull it from the skirt.

Joseph’s expression seemed heavy, his eyes pointed towards the ground as a hand covered part of his face, deep in thought. “I know it’s not ideal, but we need you to do this,” he decided, eyes coming to meet Rosie’s before he gestured to James. “James is the ultimate authority on it though.”

The Prince nodded, his shoulders squaring resolutely. “We don’t have a choice. Rosie, it has to be you,” he agreed, his voice strained despite his confident demeanor.

Rosie shot a look at the silent Queen, her eyes watching the conversation between her husband and eldest children intently. As she met Rosie’s eyes, the young woman shot her a pleading look, all but begging her to speak up.

Their mother hummed, giving Rosie a tight-lipped smile. “I think there is a security risk though,” she conceded sweetly, and Rosie’s shoulders slouched as she let out a small gasp of relief as her mother - the normally silent, meek woman - spoke up on her behalf.

But James ignored the magnitude of the situation, simply stating, “Then we’ll get more guards and protection.”

Rosie didn’t suppress the eye roll this time, huffing as she did so. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. It had always been the King and Prince show - it always would be, that was simply the nature of their life. The heirs mattered above all else, and their opinions shaped the lives of every person in the family. But she had continually struggled with the idea of letting it dictate her life, she wanted nothing more than to have some semblance of autonomy, despite knowing it was never in the cards, at least not now.

But it didn’t mean James’ insistence didn’t hurt. She felt he always understood where she was coming from, always looked out for her and Annie. But now, she was really seeing James step into the leadership position for the first time.

“Or I just don’t go, just reminding you all that it’s an option,” she muttered, waving a hand. Her frustration was cresting as the two men ignored not only Rosie’s, but her mother’s points as well - points that in all honesty scared Rosie.

The situation outside of the capital of Ellington was tenuous at best. Tensions had been rising for months now, and while King Joseph’s decision to keep silent may have been smart at first, it had done nothing to turn the tide since. And now to be sent into the lion’s den in all honesty scared Rosie. She was no stranger to security protocols, risks, and threats, but this had much eclipsed any past risks Rosie knew of. Each member of the Royal Family was under a microscope, never deviating from an internal schedule, always accompanied by several security members. And that was just what Rosie knew - she was sure there was more she was not privy to that James and her father were aware of.

A sudden loud crackle of the fire brought her out of her thoughts to find James rising, moving to pour himself a drink from the carafe on the long table nearby. She watched the sharpness of his shoulders, the unfamiliar stressful strain as he moved, causing Rosie to arch a brow at the sight. “I have to be here to step up in dad’s place. Rosie, you’re going to have to get used to this more.” James spoke dismissively.

She couldn’t help but look at James, her brows raising as fast as her anger - reaching levels she never knew James could elicit. “I’m the one who’s been doing this the past four years, remember?” Rosie asked sarcastically, her voice anything but amused.

He avoided her eyes, a hand reaching to run down his face as he attempted a placating, “It’s only two more months…”

She pushed out a breath, ready to respond when a sharp knock sounded at the door. All eyes landed on the oversized double wooden doors as the King’s Secretary waited for any protest before the doors pushed open.

The sudden intrusion didn’t seem to take anyone by surprise, but Rosie’s brows quickly furrowed as the aide stepped aside to reveal Edward Henry - the Communications Secretary for the Royal Family - and quite honestly Rosie’s least favorite person, who was carrying a large stack of papers.

She’d long struggled with the ‘duty’ aspect of her birthright position, the responsibility forced on her by an institution when all she wanted was normalcy. But between a lack of a proper childhood, wanting a normal university experience, being outspoken by nature, and maybe having a few brushes with untrustworthy so-called ‘friends’, she’d landed herself on Edward Henry’s bad side… quite literally for life.

At her father’s warm greeting to Edward after his obligatory bows to each member of the family, Rosie’s frustration grew. She knew she shouldn’t have come - she’d had a bad feeling about this meeting ever since receiving word of it at breakfast. Her suspicions grew when she realized Annie was omitted from the group, removing what would’ve been Rosie’s only true ally from the room and all conversations. But now, to see that the intention was never to plan a tour or shift schedules around to accommodate the King’s sudden change in health…. It was to focus on her.

The Palace and Royal Family both had struggled at times with her, Rosie could admit that herself. She felt as though she could never do things right, never be the person they tried to mold her to be. She was rigid in ways the Institution needed her to be pliable, soft in the ways they needed her to be tough, and sour when they needed her to be sweet.

“You’re joking me right?” Rosie finally spoke, arching her brow at her father as he warmly shook Edward’s hand, seeing the label ‘ITINERARY’ scribbled across the files he began handing to her father.

The King’s face hardened instantly. “Rosalie, don’t even start,” he warned, holding out his hand for Queen Genevieve to greet Edward.

But Edward was unphased, used to her often brash ways. “Princess, we have your itinerary to go over and I’d like to discuss some different things we’d like you to incorporate in your speeches at each one. Also we have picked out which charities you’ll be endorsing along the tour,” he informed her, handing copies of the folders to her mother and brother before sitting in the empty armchair between the two occupied sofas. His hand moved to hand her a copy, but ceased when the furious expression on her face was noticed.

A bitter chuckle escaped her. “So none of this mattered,” she mused, frowning as she looked at her father pointedly. “No matter what I said or felt or even what James decided didn’t matter because everything was already decided on,”

But the man simply shrugged as he paged through the plans, brows furrowed while he sat down on the sofa again. “We had to make a plan,” he informed her, as if it was that simple.

With a roll of her eyes, Rosie pushed herself off the couch. “Fine, then make your plan. It’s obvious you don’t need me here for any of it,” she informed them, dropping her eyes as she moved towards the shut doors. She could hear the sharp breath her mother took at her outright rudeness towards not only Edward, but James and her father. A scowl crossed Rosie’s lips as her eyes prickled with tears and she focused on the sound of her heels as she raced to the door.

If anyone attempted to say anything or chastise her, she didn’t hear - nor did she care - as the door practically slammed behind her. The guards standing outside the door pointedly avoided her eyes, telling Rosie everything she needed to know about what they heard. She had already turned to leave the wing when that thought made her stop. Her lip was quivering as she met the older guard’s eyes - Albert, she reminded herself, he’d accompanied her to riding lessons as a young girl - and she was surprised when he silently led the other guard to stand across the hall instead without a word, giving her the encouragement she needed.

She stood just beyond the door, giving herself enough space to make an escape if needed, but close enough to be able to hear the conversation inside.

Despite her mother’s objection, they’d clearly moved on from her outburst as she heard her father speaking, his voice carrying easily. “James, there’s a lot riding on that tour. I don’t have to tell you with all the political tension going on and protests, everyone is going to be looking at this tour and how it goes.”

“What your dad is saying is you’re going to need to keep an eye on Rosalie,” her mother said, and Rosie’s brow furrowed. She’d been doing just fine the last few years - handling double duty without anyone batting an eye. Why is she all of the sudden not good enough? But she caught herself as she thought - remembering that the golden boy had been occupied with serving Ellington in the Air Force. They must’ve had to make due with “second-best”, and Rosie’s best was no longer good enough.

But she was surprised when James was the one to speak, defending her and saying, “She’s been in my place the last couple years though and she’s done fine.”

A bitter chuckle escaped Edward and Rosie wanted nothing more than to disappear at that second, admittedly it was all she’d ever wanted. “It depends on the way you look at it,” Edward pointed out.

But James wasn’t going down without a fight, pointing out, “Well the press love her. I mean, there isn’t hardly a week that went by that the people’s princess wasn’t splashed on some headline.”

The scowl returned and the tears threatened to leak from her eyes as Edward finally contributed, his voice like nails on a chalkboard to her as he said, “And that’s the problem. You may love Rosalie’s personality but currently she’s in line to the throne after you and represents the royal family. If she were the youngest it would be different but she has to start taking this seriously and be more neutral.”

She tapped her fingers against her side nervously. Rosie had always known that this was the opinion of her amongst those on the outside of the family, who worked to polish and prime them. They’d attempted to do so to her for years, but they’d always gotten along like oil and water. But to be confronted with this and to overhear this, to know her own parents felt this way, hurt.

However, a small flutter of hope settled in her as James again attempted to defend her, his voice unwavering as he said, “She’s right, she has stepped into my role the past couple years and done well.”

“We just don’t think she fully sees the weight of this because you’re the one who’s next in line to the throne,” Joseph admitted, and Rosie had to do everything she could to keep herself quiet.

Yes, James’ role was unique and seemed miserable in itself. He had no choice in his life, in his future, in anything - even more than Rosie. But to live this life solely being second-place, second-loved, second-everything to someone was a different kind of miserable. You couldn’t compare the two, but neither were ideal, and for anyone to try to frame it that way completely ignored everything both she and Annie had gone through.

The grating returned to Rosie as Edward - the absolute bane of her fucking existence - unnecesarily added, “Ellington has only ever had two Queens both of them knew how to fall in line. Nobody knows what to do with Rosalie and it’s not a great look for the palace.”

“People relate to her though!” James insisted, his voice rising.

“Royals aren’t supposed to be relatable, if they are, what’s the point of having them?” Edward challenged.

There was a long silence and Rosie found herself stuck between wanting nothing more to leave and forget this all ever happened, just like she had so many times before in her life, and wanting to creep closer as the fear of missing something grew as the silence continued. Her mind was still racing, fighting against itself as she stood frozen with nearly trembling ankles when she heard James’ voice. It was soft, as if the fight had left him as he helplessly asked, “…So what do you suggest I do?”

“Just do what you can to help this tour go well. A lot hinges on this and her,” Joseph encouraged, his voice suddenly softer as well. A slight scowl graced Rosie’s lips at that realization, knowing that James often got a side of their parents that neither she nor Annie ever got. He’d gotten the most time with them - whether because of duty or love, it almost didn’t matter. She saw how much Annie yearned to have the relationship James had with them, and she found herself wishing for it at times too.

Her ear pressed closer to the overly-ornate wooden doors, yearning to hear more, but she wished she hadn’t as Edward explained, “What the Prince said isn’t wrong. The public is for the Princess, but in this tumultuous time, we need her to present more stability. People need to be comforted knowing that the royal family is stable and has the country’s best interest at heart.”

She stared at the floor, brows furrowing and confusion flooding her at those words. Unstable? Her? Sometimes she felt like the only sane person in this equation.

Her confusion was shared as James - his voice strong and firm - pointed out, “I don’t think Rosie can really be categorized as unstable.”

But Edward simply chuckled again, explaining, “Saying things off script in speeches or breaking social norms for royalty is viewed as unstable.”

“We just need her to be a constant unwavering person that people can look up to, especially when it got leaked about my health.” Her father spoke strongly. Rosie felt a pang of sympathy - if this heart attack had never happened, then maybe this wouldn’t be happening. But it all seemed too convenient, the empty promises of privacy and autonomy, the sudden return of James. “We need steadiness. This tour is what can bring it and allow everyone to see Rosie as the one to help bring it.”

“I know she can do it, I just wish she didn’t have to,” James admitted, and Rosie sighed at those simple words, knowing just how much honesty was behind them.

She wasn’t surprised when her father spoke again, his words reeking of lessons a life in the public eye and service had given him. “Our life is a heavy burden at times, but whether good or bad, the crown has fallen on us. That includes Rosalie and we have to make sure we steward it well, and that matters more than any of our personal feelings.”

Tears burned at Rosie’s eyes as the weight of what they were saying sunk in. She wasn’t stupid, she was painfully aware of her image and what people thought of her. Her entire life was dictated by it and what was or wasn’t on the front page of a newspaper. The past four years she had done everything in her power to push down who the real Rosie was, trying to step into James’ shoes to allow him to have the bit of fleeting normalcy they all craved but always seemed to elude them. It had nearly killed her to shove so much of herself down, but she had done it for her duty, her country, and - most of all - for her brother. But now to hear that it wasn’t good enough? It felt like rubbing salt in the open wound on her heart.

She had absolutely no idea what else they could possibly want from her short of ripping away every single part of her personality. And the worst part? It seemed fruitless. No matter what she did, it just always fell short. Her only saving grace that kept some hope alive inside of her was that James was back. He was her only shot at being able to get some of herself back that had been buried little by little.

Once Rosie heard the group stand and pleasantries being exchanged among her parents and Edward, she raced away from the door and down the hall, not wanting to be seen. She wiped furiously at her eyes as she grappled with the onslaught of information, but quickly had to push it from her mind as her assistant called out to her, plastering a smile on her face as Claire began to explain what they needed to do to prepare for the gala honoring the military that evening.

___________________________________________________

Rosie had kept the smile glued to her face all evening, determined to be on her best behavior. While she may have chosen the other option in the past - the “fine, I’ll be what you think of me” option - today, she couldn’t. If she did, she knew what was at risk, what was on the line, and she just couldn’t stomach willingly doing it tonight.

She’d made her rounds, thanked as many service members she could find, listened to as many stories as she could stomach, laughed as many times as she could without a hint of humor actually being behind it, and had finally escaped to the side room with Claire to fix the strap of her heels when James slipped into the otherwise-empty room.

She avoided his eyes with everything in her, instead taking a long sip of her champagne to quell her nerves when James came to stand next to her, his voice low despite Claire’s proximity.

“Rosie c’mon, I know you don’t want to do this. I get it. I wish I could give you a break but I don’t have a choice,” he pleaded.

Her shoulders hunched, knowing he was truly stuck. He had to live up to what their father expected - what everyone expected - but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to go against her big brother. “I know you don’t, and I don’t mean to make it harder on you. I just suck at all of this, James.” she explained.

“No you don’t. The press is for you, everyone loves you,” he reminded her, his voice soft and sweet. She appreciated the sentiment - but it felt empty to her after what she had overheard merely hours earlier.

“I just was hoping I’d finally have a break,” she admitted with a whisper, not knowing how to put it more simply than that.

James sighed, his frustration at the impossible situation evident. “I’m sorry, Rosie,” he murmured, and there was no doubt in Rosie’s mind that he was honest. “I love you and you know I’m going to do what I can to make it easier.”

“I love you too and I don’t want to be difficult, I really don’t,” she explained, turning as Clarie finished and scampered back into the party, leaving the siblings alone with the guards standing by the doors. “I’m just… disappointed I guess and I feel bad because I don’t want to make this worse on dad or you. I just hate doing these tours.”

“I had an idea though,” James began, pausing as Rosie arched a brow at him. He took a deep breath, evidently steeling himself.“What if I asked my friend to be your pilot for the tour? You remember Chris, right? My best friend from the Air Force? He’s standing out there right next to the bar.” He asked, pointing through the glass doorway to Chris.

Rosie sighed, not feeling like any of this was a good idea - especially from James - after this afternoon. There was just too much going on, Rosie feeling like so much had been shaken today. “Can’t Martin do it?” She asked, her voice meek. She knew if she had to go on this tour, if she had to deal with the risks and the tensions associated with it, that comfort would do her good. And Martin - the longtime Palace Security Head, who all but attended all of her birthday parties growing up and was truly like a father to her, would fit the bill.

“I need to pick someone who can also be with you to certain events to be your security and we both know Martin is getting too old for that,” James explained, nudging her with his elbow. “C’mon, would I stick you with someone shitty? Chris is the only person who treated me like a normal guy. You’d get along with him great and I can trust him.”

“I just…” Rosie’s voice started to trail as the feelings inside her were unable to come out of her mouth.

James’ eyebrows arched as he reached out a hand to rest on her arm, softly prodding, “What?”

There was so much Rosie wanted to say, but she knew at this point it didn’t matter. Everything had been decided for her as it had been for so long and she just quietly admitted, “I just wish I didn’t have to do this.”

Although James moved to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a gentle hug, Rosie felt anything but comforted. For years she had looked forward to James returning from the Air Force, especially with his voluntary choice to stay in the service for two years longer than was customary for royals. She remembered that call, James explaining that being in the Air Force was the first time he had felt normal, been treated normal, and felt like he had a bigger purpose and that he wanted to stay longer. Rosie knew it meant she had to step up to stay in his shoes longer than anticipated but she was willing to do it for him.

But it was finally going to be her turn. She was going to be able to pull back from the spotlight, disappear the way she had wanted to for so long and try to have some semblance of a normal life. All of that had been ripped away from her in what felt like an instant, prolonging and making her presence on the country even bigger which was the absolute opposite of what she wanted, but Rosie knew she didn’t have a choice.

Two months. She could do anything for two months. And then she’d be free.

[lilacevans]

𝐠𝐨𝐭'𝐜𝐡𝐚: 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

✧.* : ̗̀➛ lloyd hansen x female!reader (non-descriptive) ✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 353. ✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: chase kink, taunting, dub-con/non-con (however you'd like to interpret it), dacryphilia (crying kink), lloyd being lloyd ✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: @chxrryhansen ✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: the longest one yet!! i wanted them to stay under 200 but i really enjoy writing lloyd and i would've kept going but decided to post so i didn't spend 5 days writing a 5k smutfest. anywaysssss; enjoy my lloyd lovin' besties!! pls lemme know what u think & check out the main masterlist if this is the first your seeing anything of this series!! 𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑦𝑑'𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡. ༊*·˚

*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.

*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.

Lloyd’s laughter mocked you as you bound barefoot down the never ending hallway. As you stumbled with a heaving chest, manically trying every door as Lloyd’s heavy footsteps inched closer and closer.

Every shake of the seemingly thousands of doorknobs knocked your heart that little bit closer to breaking. The daunting reality of never being able to outrun him settled in quickly and your hope was diminishing with every useless step. Until one door swung open and you flung yourself inside, slamming it shut. Your eye’s scattered around the room, looking for a hiding spot before they zeroed in on a small cupboard, just big enough for you to fit inside of.

As you rushed forward you were snatched from behind, Lloyd’s cologne filled your nose; dark and carnal as your eyes widened. His arm snaked around your neck, constricting the stale manor air from reaching your lungs.

‘’Got’cha,’’ Lloyd gleamed in your ear, black gloved fingers squeezing either side of your chin as you were dragged back out of the room kicking and screaming.

Lloyd’s hand moved from your chin to clamp harshly over your mouth before you were spun and pinned with his arm across your chest to the wall. His eyes searched your face as your eye’s squeezed shut; tears pouring down your cheeks. You heard his demented, throaty chuckle before feeling the wetness of his tongue glide up your cheek. Your body tried to contort away from his warm breath, useless in its attempt to escape the unescapable. 

Suddenly his tongue was gone and Lloyd tutted, ‘’You’re not crying enough, Pup. Nothin’ but fuckin’ crocodile tears.’’

You let out a pitiful whimper as Lloyd mocked you with faux sympathy, pressing soft kisses across your face.

‘’Open those pretty eye’s up, wanna see ‘em all wet with those shiny fake tears,’’ Lloyd ordered.

Your eyes fluttered open, willing them not to close again at the sight of his twisted grin. 

‘’There they are,’’ Lloyd cooed in awe. ‘’Now… What the fuck do I have to do to you to get some real fuckin’ tears, hmm? Shall we go find out?’’