#my celebrity-uncle agreed while I was the photographer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nerdzzone · 3 years

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Luckless Romance

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

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

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

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

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

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

Please let me know what you think!

_____

August 2015

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it was more than just that.

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

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

"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, was that was you asked for?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Does this group need any encouragement?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Terrible is harsh!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Beginners luck!"

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

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

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

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

"It was clearly on your side!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure?"

He nodded in response.

"Absolutely."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can't it be both?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really? Could I see them?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.

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

"I did not!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're just drunk."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This is me..."

Chris looked up and nodded slowly.

"It doesn't look so bad."

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

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

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

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

Chris laughed, but shook his head.

"Now who's drunk."

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

"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friends.

Good friends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

July 2016

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

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

But we kept things very much friendly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're impossible."

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

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

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

"Hello?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nah, this place is great!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then we'll stay in?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"

"Imaginary ones don't count."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I sighed and shook my head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.

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

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

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

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

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

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

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

"And what did he say?"

I scowled at the memory.

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

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

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

"What was this one's job?"

I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.

"A club promoter."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What was it about then?"

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

Chris shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Until now."

"It's not true!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Demonstrate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was now or never.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are we really doing this?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the anticipation was practically killing me.

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

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

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

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

"Not much of an exhibitionist?"

"Not on the first date."

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

"Alright, that's fair."

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

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

"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"

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

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

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

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

Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Now, it's your turn."

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

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

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

I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.

"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.

I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.

His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.

"Like what you see?"

His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.

"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."

"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."

Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.

I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.

"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."

I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.

He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.

I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.

He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.

As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.

"Well?"

"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."

Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.

"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."

Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.

He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."

He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.

"Only because you're huge."

I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.

"Thank you."

I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.

I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.

I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.

"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.

It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."

A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.

"You heard about that?"

He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.

"Everyone heard about that," I teased.

He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.

"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."

His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.

"Atta girl, Winnie..."

His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.

My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.

"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."

His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.

The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.

After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.

"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."

I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.

"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"

His question made my own smile widen even more.

"Of course not!"

He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.

I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.

The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.

I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.

Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.

After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.

By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.

He wasn't coming back.

It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.

We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.

One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.

The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.

But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.

Part Two

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans one shot #once bitten/more hearts

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abarbaricyalp · 3 years

Note

Hand holding 37

37) not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out

I assumed SamBucky. If not, just let me know!

Reblogging with the AO3 link ASAP so hopefully it'll stay in the tag this time.

i wanna hold your hand

Bucky had been in Delacroix for six months when the invitation rolled in. He flipped the heavy, glossy card over in his fingers, stacked the multiple envelopes and smaller cards and pieces of tissue paper together, and then looked at the fancy golden script again.

Albert James Wilson and Stephanie Marie Pujols cordially invite Captain Samuel Thomas Wilson to celebrate their wedding with them on the Third of August Two-Thousand-and-Twenty-Five.

There was more text--RSVP instructions, food preferences, a location--but Bucky’s eyes kept drifting to the scrawled message at the bottom of the invitation next to a quickly drawn shield.

Please bring Sergeant Barnes as your plus one -❤️ Stephanie-

He just about flung the invitation across the kitchen when he heard the door open. “Will you go get the rest of the groceries out of the truck? It’s about to open up and I don’t want to be dragging shit through the rain,” Sam said as he stumbled through the entryway to the kitchen. “Oh, you saw the card, great. You can remember what day it is. They sent a Save-the-Date ages ago but I totally forgot about it.”

Bucky felt a little hollow in the chest as he listened to Sam carry on like it was nothing that someone Bucky didn’t even know asked for him by name. Asked Sam for him. “Uh, who's Albert?” he finally managed to get out through the heavy lump in his throat.

“He’s one of my cousins. One of the babies. I think he’s, like, twenty-six or something? Maybe a little older. Him and Steph have been dating for ages but they took everything really slow. She went to grad school and they always said they weren’t getting married until they were totally graduated and had jobs. And then, you know, the Blip and all.”

Sam set the bags of groceries down on the oven and started to stack cans below the cupboards they went in, fruits by the baskets on the breakfast bar, drinks on the other side of the fridge.

“Right,” Bucky said and tapped the invitation against his metal hand. “Do you think it’s really a good idea for me to go?”

Sam shot him an unamused look. “Listen, you don’t get to invite yourself to the fun parties on the water and then decide that you don’t want to sit through a long ass wedding. Besides, you’ll like the reception. Lots of dancing.”

“Sure, it’s just… I mean, they don’t know me. This is a serious moment and they’re just asking for a stranger to come sit in the audience and watch them...fucking become one under the eyes of God.”

“You’re so Catholic,” Sam snorted and rolled his eyes. “You’re coming with me. I’ll be bored out of my mind if you don’t. Besides, if you don’t go, who’s gonna be the ugly, old one?”

“I hate you,” Bucky sighed.

“I know. Now go get the groceries before the bread gets soaked.”

Bucky had been promised dancing and food. But, while most of the church had cleared out for a local dancehall for the reception, Bucky found himself standing awkwardly by the altar while approximately four million pictures were snapped of the wedding party. Sam, leaning against a beautiful statue that he probably shouldn’t have been leaning against next to Bucky, was the only thing keeping Bucky from royally losing his entire mind.

He hadn’t been in a church basically since DC all those years ago. Who knew about before then. Occasionally, when he’d been on the run, he’d crept into an empty rectory to snag a few minutes of quiet where he could rest his eyes without feeling like someone was staring at him, waiting for a moment of weakness on his part. And, sure, growing up Catholic had put this indelible mark on his soul that reacted to any church, empty or not. A deep longing and belonging that he’d never been able to fully grapple with.

But empty churches where he just wanted to sleep were not the same level of overwhelming that a church in the midst of celebration was. Now, all that longing and belonging was spilling over his ribs and soaking into the rest of his body, alive and hot and so tangible he felt like he could almost reach inside himself and touch it.

He missed this.

He missed the happiness and the family and the love that he could find in the walls of a church, in the midst of a celebration. He missed being able to feel something bigger than himself.

The bride and groom hadn’t stopped smiling and laughing all afternoon, always good sports about redoing a photo or trying a new pose or bringing new people into the same picture they’d taken a thousand times already. They couldn’t take their eyes off of each other, couldn’t let go of hands or waists or cheeks.

God, Bucky missed it.

“Okay, how about something with all of the couples?” the photographer asked. “Mom, dad, get on in there. Any bridesmaids and groomsmen paired up? Alright, you go there. Sirs? Sirs?”

“Yo, Sam!” Albert called out and Bucky looked up sharply from the jostling of people in love with each other and the moment.

“I’m not here with anyone,” Sam called back.

“You’re holding your date’s hand?” the photographer said, clearly unsure of what was before her own eyes now.

Sam and Bucky both looked down at their interlocked fingers, hands pressed between their thighs, and then jumped apart with muttered apologies.

“Uh. We’re not. We’re not.” What a stupid thing to have to say after everyone had just seen them. “We’re not together,” Bucky finally got out.

Stephanie frowned deeply for the first time all afternoon, a scheming furrow appearing between her eyebrows.

“Alright… Well then, is that everyone? Okay, cheese it up hard…”

The pictures continued.

“Sorry again,” Bucky said a while later while he and Sam stood shoulder to shoulder in the church’s small bathroom, both looking at their own reflections while they washed their hands.

“Nah, it’s fine. I probably just kept shifting closer to you,” Sam said and there was a strain in his voice that Bucky couldn’t quite place. He didn’t think he’d heard it before. Not on Sam.

“Sometimes I kind of tune out what that arm’s feeling,” he said. “There’s- a lot of nerve activity, y’know. I didn’t notice I’d grabbed you.”

“It was the moment,” Sam agreed. “We were watching a bunch of other people hold hands and shit.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. He shook water off of his fingers and then wiped his hands on his slacks. “Can we go eat now?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, nodding quickly. “Let’s get outta here. I’m sure other people are waiting.”

The dancehall was dim, lit up only with white string lights draped over the rafters and around the tables and columns. It smelt heavenly, a mix of well cooked food and an open bar and desserts that Bucky couldn’t even name. Sam grabbed Bucky’s wrist--this time he felt it--and pulled him through the crowds lingering at the dance floor’s edge. He gave as short answers as was possible to stay polite until they got to the food.

Sarah was waiting for them.

“What took you two so long?” she asked. “I’ve had to fend off a dozen people looking for Captain America.”

“You will not believe what happened to us at the church,” Sam said, loading up a plate with more food than Bucky felt comfortable taking. It was fine because Sam was making Bucky a plate too and they were pretty similar in portion size.

“Oh, yes I will,” Sarah said. “Stephanie told me all about it.”

“What? How did she beat us here? We got in our car first.”

“Why did you two lie to that poor photographer?” Sarah asked.

Bucky looked up with a meringue half in his mouth. “We didn’t? She made the assumption herself.”

“You said you weren’t together,” Sarah clarified. “Why are you playing coy with me?”

“We’re not together,” Sam insisted for the second time that day. Bucky ignored the cinch of his heart and grabbed a brownie to add to Sam’s precarious stack of food.

Sarah brought two fingers up to the bridge of her nose. “Samuel Thomas,” she said and Sam squawked out an indignant sound.

“Don’t say my name like that. You sound just like mom.”

“You’re lucky it’s me and not mom listening to you lie to yourself.”

Sam was about to argue with her, Bucky could tell, when the plate in his hand suddenly tipped. Bucky’s hand shot out to steady it, fingers sliding over Sam’s to hold it still, wait for the food to stop moving before adjusting their hands under it to continue carrying it.

Sarah shot them a very pointed look. “Cass and AJ are holding our table down and Mrs. Reynolds has already said she wants at least two dances from you,” she said to Sam.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said, just a little sarcastically. “Come on, Buck. And grab an extra roll. AJ’s gonna take all the good desserts if we don’t distract him.”

Sam did far more dancing than Bucky did. Just about all night, he had someone on his arm, cutting in, or pulling him back to the floor. Between everyone at their table, they cleared the plates Sam had made but Bucky didn’t think Sam had had half of what he wanted. He made sure to collect another plate when he was sure everyone had had a chance to eat and kept it safe at his side, even with AJ curled up in his lap, snoozing against his metal shoulder soundly. True, most kids couldn’t eat while they were asleep but after watching him put away way more carbs and sugar than Bucky thought should be possible, he wasn’t putting anything past the kid.

When Sam managed to drag himself away from all of his fans for the sixth time that night, and when he shot Bucky a curious but pleased glance between AJ and his shoulder, Bucky just said, “Sugar crash,” and pushed the plate of food over to Sam with the arm not currently holding AJ in place.

Possibly, AJ got his appetite from his uncle if the way Sam dug in was anything to go by. “Jesus, man, breathe,” Bucky laughed and passed over the bottle of beer he’d been nursing most of the last hour.

“Thanks. I forgot how much a full night of dancing takes out of you. Not as young as I used to be, y’know,” Sam said and took a long pull from Bucky’s drink.

“You literally moved a boulder off a road yesterday,” Bucky pointed out.

“I only had to do that once and I had the jetpack. I’ll tell you, my feet wish I had the wings about now,” Sam answered. He put away a roll and one of the sweets Bucky didn’t know before finally sitting back a little, forearms rested on the tables. He’d discarded his jacket after the fourth or so dance and at some point he’d rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows. That, plus the brown suspenders over his light blue shirt had him looking like a hundred old memories in Bucky’s mind.

“AJ and I filmed you a few times,” Bucky said to distract himself from the sweat cooling on Sam’s forearms. He brought his phone out and left it on the table as it played a video. Sam leaned forward and then laughed.

“Oh, you liked that one, huh?” he asked.

“Nah, that was AJ’s choice. I liked this one,” he said, swiping to the previous video.

“Of course, something more lindy-hop,” Sam said with a nod. “That lady called me every single day after mom died, y’know. She always said it was ‘cause she missed her already and our voices were similar, but I think she was worried about me.”

“Who was this one?” Bucky asked, flipping through a few more clips.

“Oh, shit,” Sam laughed. “I can’t believe you recorded that. We went to the prom together junior year. Her dad hated me. He’d probably hate that this video exists.”

“Captain America couldn’t even clear the bad blood?” Bucky joked.

“Hell no. Prom night, he busted into the living room after the dance thinking he was gonna catch us in some act but we were just watching movies. It was never like that with us, but you couldn't convince him.”

Bucky flipped to another video. “Her son joined up with me but ended up dropping out and going Navy instead. - She was my first boss. - I played baseball with that guy and he came out a few months after we graduated. - I dated her daughter very briefly. - That’s the daughter and the little one is her daughter. - That’s my favorite teacher’s son. He just wanted to say hi from his mom.”

“Hey, what are you looking at?” AJ asked groggily suddenly. He leaned over the table, small hand coming to rest where, once again, Sam and Bucky’s had drifted together on the other side of the phone. This time they couldn’t jump apart.

“Uncle Sam, Uncle Bucky danced with my teacher and she said he had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen,” Cass shouted as he came bounding back to the table with Sarah in tow behind him. Bucky had seen her dance with a handsome man for three dances in a row so if she cut any new knowing looks at where their hands were being held hostage, he had some retaliation this time.

Bucky finally let Sam drag him out to the middle of the dancefloor just as things were beginning to wind down. Many guests had already left for the evening, catering had cleared out the food, though Sam and AJ really did their part in making sure there was no bread left for them to clean, and the band had packed up and left a local DJ to close out the night.

This time, Bucky was more than aware of his hand sliding into Sam’s, his metal hand settling against Sam’s shoulder, thumb brushing over the strap of his suspenders. Sam’s other hand was warm and welcome against his hip. Bucky couldn’t help but step closer to him as they swayed to the slow song.

“You were really good with all the kids all night,” Sam said. “I saw them dogpile you earlier.”

“Kids like me,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Entertaining them was my job at weddings back when too. All those nights of dancing and I never got to show off at family functions,” he joked.

“You showed off plenty. I think it’s gonna be you Mrs. Reynolds asks for next time someone gets married. Hell, maybe she’ll be marrying you.”

Bucky laughed and shook his head. “Hey, she’s got spirit. I think if we’d gone a few more dances, she might’ve found one I didn’t know.”

“Well, it was a jazz band. Can’t blame you for not keeping up when you didn’t grow up with good music.”

“We had jazz,” Bucky said with a roll of his eyes. “It was nice, getting to see more of your life.”

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, it was nice stepping back in time a little bit, getting to see how everyone’s grown up.”

“You’re so loved here. Not Captain America. Sam Wilson. People adore you.”

Sam ducked his head shyly and Bucky reached up to catch a knuckle under his chin. The music had stopped and their feet must’ve realized it before their brains because they weren’t dancing anymore either.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Sammy,” someone called from across the room. Bucky recognized the groom’s voice. “You haven’t let go of his hand all night. Just kiss him already.”

Sam and Bucky both looked down at their tangled fingers and let out a little laugh. “Well, if it’s what your fans want…” Bucky suggested.

“Shut up, man,” Sam laughed and leaned forward to kiss him.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fanfiction #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #i answer things

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a-mirror-of-memories · 4 years

Text

Ml prompts (salt edition)

As I promised, this are just some of the plots for fics that I been thinking, a few for a while, others today or this week. Not all of them involve Lila, and even in those she’s not always the focus (Not all of them can be considered ‘salt’ exactly, while others can be labeled as ‘actions have consequences’).

In case anyone want to use them this are the rules (I can made them since this are my ideas):

First of all I want to be tagged for the original idea.

No OOC or bashing of any character (except Gabriel).

No Alya salt unless it’s minimum and only if she’s redeemed at the end. She already gets more than enough hate from the fandom.

Other than that, please refrain of using any of the tropes mentioned in this post:

Max has a crush on Lila, that’s why he keeps believing everything she says (I thought this long before the twitter comment; besides it says that Max’s asexual, not aromatic).

Kim wants to be supporting since she’s his best friend’ first love, even if he doesn’t believe all of her tales (he’s not ruining his chances to become an Olympic medalist following a training regimen that Lila insist ‘was created for my great uncle, a platinum medalist’).

Alix’s getting sick of Lila, if she wanted to hear some self-insert bad fanfic she would spend more time with her brother.

Juleka wants to believe Lila and follows her advices about 'how to be a good model’ until her family intervenes.

After getting several comments complaining of how the Ladyblog’s really unorganized, Alya finally decide to create a side blog (Miracutales) for all the fan-arts and fanfics links her followers keep sending her, and with Nora’s help she spends a whole afternoon fixing her blog. When Lila’s finally exposed the blogger freaks out until her sister comments “Wait, that interview? I send it to your fanfic blog ages ago”.

Lila going on and on to Mylene about a movie actor the other admires, how they’re 'like this’ and that 'I can introduce you to him, he thinks of me as his niece’. Meanwhile the rainbow haired girl’s just nodding with a forced smile while the Italian keep spewing bullshit about her favorite theater actress.

Nino barging into Marinette’s room dragging his little brother, saying that she needed to watch over him on his place since he has a date with Alya. Cue to Alya clearing her throat from the other side of the room, where they were working on a school project.

Lila stole Nathaniel’s sketchbook the day before an important meeting and hid it in Marinette’s locker. Ignoring almost the whole class insistence that she didn’t do it, that anyone could’ve put it in there since there’s no locks, he grabbed her own sketchbook from her bag and ripped it into pieces to everyone’s horror. Marc saw this and he’s akumatized; once it’s all over he still ends their partnership*

*Although cruel, I don’t believe that this is so out of character for Nathaniel. He already has proven to have serious anger issues in Reverser and Evilustrador (While I don’t hold him responsible for what he did under Gabriel’s control, comparing him to other akumas wanting to get revenge of Chloe it’s worrying how much pleasure he seemed to find while tormenting her).

Adrien keep blowing off plans to hang out with his friends to go away as Chat Noir, using the excuse that his father keep adding things to his schedule. One day after he canceled once again, saying that he has a last minute photo shoot, the boys are hanging out in the park where they cross with Vincent. He tells them that he’s the only photograph that Gabriel Agreste trust to work with his son, and that Mr. Agreste was away on a trip for the weekend so Adrien’s schedule was pretty much free until his father came back.

It’s election time again and the Mayor’s opposition has a new slogan: “If he can’t even control his daughter, how can we trust him to protect this city best interest?”

Someone as a joke proposed Xavier Ramier (Mr. Pidgeon) as Mayor. He won.

Felix GV returns and once again pretends to be his cousin. He’s dragged into a photo shoot with Lila; he may be a bastard who hates his uncle and he may be annoyed with Adrien but he still has standards.

With the end of the school year near Alya’s just relieved that since they’ll start Lycée they wouldn’t have to deal with Chloe and Bustier (with her fairytales for assignments) ever again. Until a conversation with Marinette.

“What do you mean we would have Bustier again next year? We’re done with Francoise Dupond! She was your teacher for five years in a row*?! That woman is an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL TEACHER??!”

*Until Chat Blanc Marinette’s been in Chloe class for five years now, at least four of them with Bustier according to picture’s day. Their class’ in middle school a.k.a three years so…well, that explains a lot about her teaching methods.

Marinette decides to let go of her crush on Adrien (not bashing), and with Alya supporting her choice (even if she doesn’t totally agree with giving up) Rose becomes the new captain of the Adrienette ship; trying to get them together against her friend wishes.

After discovering Hawk Moth’s identity Marinette decides she’ll never be like him and toss aside her dream of be a famous fashion designer. She either finds a new dream or simply opens just a small store away from the spotlight, with sporadic commission for people she’s close to.

At last, I like to call this section’s “Responsible Adults (Are trying their best)”

Marinette doesn’t know every celebrity under the sun, only Jagged, Nadja and maybe Clara. Gina Dupain, world traveler extraordinary, however has a rare gift when it comes to meeting new people by chance without knowing who they are*.

(“I sat beside this guy once in a plane, he was such a charming young man. Here, there’s a pic” “Nonna that was *insert celebrity here*!” “Who?”)

*This in the only kind of celebrity insert I would aprove.

Surprise inspection from the French educational department (whatever it’s called), some heads are going to roll.

Officer Raincomprix at first was happy that Sabrina stopped hanging out with Chloe and made a real friend; then he realized that this girl was even worse than the Mayor’s daughter.

The school nurse accidentally cause an international affair after calling the Italian Embassy asking why the Ambassador’s daughter didn’t have the proper vaccines for all the travels she keep claiming to have made.

After seeing Nathalie faint in the middle of a car drive, a worried Gorilla brings her to the ER. While checking her vitals (she’s still unconscious) a nurse accidentally knocks her brooch out of her coat, and while putting it back a strange creature materialize in front of them.

“Any of you has Ladybug in speed dial?”

One of the Agreste servants (let’s be honest, how else would that place stay clean) discovers Hawk Moth secret lair.

“I don’t get paid enough for this”.

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phantomato · 3 years

Note

Thank you for the update! If it's not too much to ask (and if you're accepting platonic prompts), could I also please request a Tom Sr. & Tommy with hand holding #10 (happily doing everything with just one hand, if it means they don’t have to let go) or #21 (holding hands while one [Tommy] is balancing on a small wall)?

Post-Ganymede, Tommy is probably ~7 years old here. My boys. 💛

—

My son sticks his hand out for me to take, round brown eyes staring up expectantly. I take it, of course.

His grandparents worry that he’s a little too affectionate, too sensitive for a boy, for all that they love when that affection is turned towards them. I worry, how could I not worry, but it seems crueler to tell him to lock that impulse deep inside himself than to indulge him with the attention that he wants. Tommy smiles and squeezes my palm, his whole hand barely fitting around it, as he begins to drag me off.

“Papa, did I tell you what Spots said?” he asks me as we set off for town. Though the people there never much liked my family, there is a curious sympathy for Tommy. Poor motherless boy—and so handsome, with such good manners and a bright smile, they whisper. Cecilia repeats the gossip to me. They like that his mother was common, even if they dislike the Gaunts as much as they dislike the Riddles.

The brother came back at some point. I have no intention for Tommy to meet his uncle… but my mother arranged a weekly market delivery to their property. “He may someday wish to know the other side of his family,” she told me, infuriatingly correct. Tommy asks more questions than ever about the woman who birthed him and the world she came from; I struggle to answer them. He can tell his parents did not have the sort of marriage he sees in his storybooks. He’s too clever for me to try and lie.

But today he wants to talk about the friendly snake in our garden, not mothers and witches and where the other people with magic might live, and I can oblige.

“What did Spots tell you, Tommy?” I ask.

He skips around a rock, stretching our arms wide, and crashes back into my side once we’ve passed it. “She said there was a clutch of hatchlings coming!” He grins widely, and I imagine him carrying an armful of baby snakes. Tommy would love that, I think. Friends his own age.

“Congratulations to Spots,” I reply, wondering if snakes view parenthood as a cause for celebration. There are many human concepts they don’t share, we’ve learned. Tommy still struggles to communicate that he loves her, and no matter how fruitless the effort—I could watch that for hours, my son attempting to reason a snake into abstract emotion.

He tried to show her a hug once. They agreed not to try again, but she consented to wind around his arm sometimes. I have a photograph of them together from the start of the summer: Tommy kissing the top of her head while he holds her.

Common grass snakes only live about fifteen years. I wrote to our herpetological society and asked. He’ll want the picture when he’s older.

“Tommy,” I call his attention back from wherever he disappears to in daydreams, “do you think we could do anything nice for Spots?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, head tilted, bird-like.

“When a woman gets pregnant, her family or friends might help her prepare for the baby. They might cook her meals for her after she delivers the baby—she would be very tired then—or they might give her clothes for an infant. Or toys, a bassinet. Do you remember the one we had in your room for years? That was mine before you slept in it, and I think it came from my mother’s family.” Tommy listens with his usual focus, little fingers tapping away at the side of my hand as he thinks.

“Frogs,” he says definitively. He nods his head once and returns to looking at the path ahead. “She would want frogs.”

“We can check… maybe they are sold as bait?” I have no idea where one purchases frogs, if one can purchase frogs, let alone live ones, but I have committed myself to trying.

“Papa, we need to catch the frogs,” he says with an exasperated sigh, as though I am being willfully obtuse. “Stop by the stream on the walk back.” Tommy is good at delivering instructions, already inhabiting my father’s imperiousness. If I have any strength of will at all, it is in the soft power of my mother.

She stands her ground with Father; they have a productive marriage. I fear I am fated to acquiesce to every one of my son’s demands. I simply don’t want to tell him ‘no.’

“All right,” I give in now rather than hold out only to frustrate us both, “you will have to show me how to catch frogs.”

Tommy skips a few more steps alongside me, bouncing our hands and slapping his soles against the flat rocks paving this part of the path. We’re walking by the Aaronson family’s farm, and sometimes the cows come over to see if Tommy has anything interesting to feed them.

“Didn’t you ever catch frogs when you were little?” he asks, pulling me to the fence so he can hop up onto the bottom rung. There’s a little brown one just out of reach, so he lets go of my hand and gestures for me to hold onto him as he leans forward.

“My father didn’t allow me to play outside quite like you do,” I explain, hands securely at either side of his waist as he pokes the poor cow’s flank. She huffs and swats her tail.

He tries again, stroking her side more encouragingly. “That was mean of Grandfather.”

“Children from our class were raised differently when I was a boy.” I could reason through this, but Tommy hasn’t yet quite grasped the idea of social class, and I’m not sure I want to encourage it. I love watching him run around in short trousers, getting his knees dirty and finding joy in the physical. It is so thoroughly mundane that I like to imagine it is a childhood only a non-magical parent could provide, something to set me apart when he eventually finds others like him. I want his memories of this world to be fond ones.

“Regardless,” I emphasize, “it wasn’t the sort of thing I would have enjoyed as a child. I was far more fond of books and writing.”

“I like books as well,” he says. Tommy gives up on the cow and spins around to hop down from the fence, taking my hand once more. We have only one more farm to go before our path becomes a proper pavement through Little Hangleton, one farm edged with a low stone wall that marks our final ritual.

“You are a prodigal talent at almost everything you try, Tommy.” I tease him; the ‘almost’ will burn. I can see how he’s torn between insisting that he’s good at everything and continuing on with our walk, but the walk wins out. He steps onto the wall, built of stacked stones, and begins the delicate task of picking his way along it.

The fight hasn’t deserted him, though, because once he’s made a meter of progress and has his footing, he insists: “I am good at everything.”

I loosen my hold on his hand. “Ready for me to let you do this bit on your own?”

He screeches “Papa!”, stops moving, and grips my hand tightly.

We hold a staring contest. I break first, smiling at the way he pouts, his lower lip jutting out like he’s practiced the expression. Then he cracks, too, his grin my only warning before he drops my hand and launches himself at me.

I catch him with a grunt—he’s getting heavier each year, there will come a day when I can’t carry him—and he wraps himself around me.

“What would your grandmother say if she saw us like this?”

“Aunt Celia would say I was a sweet boy and she would kiss my cheek,” he counters. Not that he needs to. I am already walking again. If Tommy wants to be held, and it is in my power to do so, I will hold him.

He turns his head and looks up at me, impatient.

I kiss his cheek as we reach the town. I gave up on propriety years ago. I will do what makes my son happy.

#ask game #tom riddle sr #tom riddle #tommy <3 <3 #tomato shorts

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051093 · 4 years

Text

let’s make another | v

words: 2534

pairing: jihyun “v” kim x reader

genre: dad!v, fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, i destroyed myself writing this, implied sexual content, just cute shit tbh

description: in which seven and yoosung visit their favorite baby girl — and you and your husband celebrate your fourth anniversary.

my masterlist.

“Lucy!”

You squint at the house, waiting for her head of haphazard hazel hair to appear any second, but it’s so silent that you can hear the summer breeze threading through your hair. Cicadas chirp in the distance.

“Lucy Kim!” You try again, raising your volume to a shout that bounces around the courtyard. “Get down here! Your uncles are here to see you!”

More silence. A laugh sounds from behind you.

“Well, Yoosung,” Seven quips. “I think it’s time we headed back. It was great seeing you, Y/N.”

You give him a stern look and he puts his hands in the air.

“Or not. Wow. I’ve forgotten how well you mastered the motherly glare.”

“If only it worked on my daughter,” you mutter, drumming your fingers against your hips. “Where in the world could she be?”

“Is she playing hide and seek again?” Yoosung laughs. “Do you remember last time I visited? When you couldn’t find her for the longest time and she was in your closet all along?”

“The day I nearly lost my mind, you mean? How could I forget?” You shake your head. “I would’ve called the police if Zen hadn’t heard her evil cackling while he was in the restroom upstairs.”

Seven sighs fondly. “She takes after me so well.”

“Come on. Let’s go inside for now. I’m sure she’ll turn up.” You drape an arm around each of the boys’ shoulders. “I missed you both.”

“We missed you too,” Yoosung hums. “How are you? How’s V?”

“We’re good.” The three of you walk up the porch stairs. “I‘m working from home to take care of the little maniac, and he’s been going on photography trips regularly again.”

“That’s right. I heard about that. Doesn’t the Korean Museum of Modern Art—” He stops mid-sentence, amber eyes widening. “—you angel. Is that Ph.D Pepper I see?”

You’ve stepped into your living room, an open, modern space with floor-to-ceiling windows bathing the area in sunlight. Indeed, the table in the center has been laid out with cans of Seven’s go-to beverage, side by side with freshly baked buns for Yoosung. The boys’ faces brighten upon seeing the refreshments.

“Oh, yes. I ran to the grocery store an hour before you got here.” You gesture. “For Saeyoung, the soda he loves far too much for his own good, and for Yoosung…you like the red bean ones, right? Did I remember correctly?”

Yoosung gives you an elated hug. “Yes! You’re amazing. I complained to Seven the entire way here about being hungry. Thank you thank you thank you.”

They sink into the couch and dig in, satisfied.

“Anyway, what was I saying?” Seven says, now with a Ph.D Pepper in hand. “Oh, right. I heard the Korean Museum of Modern Art wants to open an exhibit just for his photographs.”

“Yes. He’s working on that right now,” you say. “The new collection is absolutely beautiful. He thinks it might be his best work yet, and I completely agree.”

“Aw, look at her proud smile,” Yoosung teases through a mouthful of bread, then pouts. “You guys are so cute. It’s been almost four years and I’m still jealous.”

“Hey, what do you mean, jealous?” Seven says, nudging Yoosung with a foot. “Have you forgotten about that girl from the internet cafe already?”

“What?” You say, swiveling towards Yoosung, who’s turned beet red and stopped mid-chew. “There’s a girl, Yoosung?”

“N-no,” he stutters.

“Yes there is!” Seven sings gleefully. “There’s a girl!”

“Oh, I expect to hear all about this,” you say, but you know by the sound of thunderous footsteps that you’re about to be interrupted.

Bright eyes, far too big for her tiny face, appear around the corner. Things you notice: she’s covered in paint. She’s barefoot. Her hair is a mess. And all three and a half feet of her are now hurtling in your direction.

“SEVENY! YOOSUNG!”

“LUCY!” They shout in perfect unison. Both boys immediately forget about the food in hand and jump to their feet.

She barrels into Seven’s arms first, the redhead sweeping her tiny frame into a tight embrace, then leaps into Yoosung’s lap next, small arms thrown around his neck. Her eyes crinkle from her grin and her mouth splits in a delighted shriek as Yoosung gives her sides an affectionate tickle.

You can’t help but mirror her grin. The girl has always had a knack for making those around her smile a little wider, and the members are no exception. She’s close to them all, due to their frequent visits and unwavering affection towards her, but she once whispered to you that Seven and Yoosung were her favorites. You’re not surprised — there’s playful and hilarious Seven who makes her laugh like no other, and there’s Yoosung who’s so sweet and kind that he’s essentially her big brother.

“Mommy!” Lucy says brightly, looking at you from her seat on Yoosung’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hi, sweetie.” You cradle her hair and press a kiss to her forehead. “Where’s your dad?”

As if on cue, a second set of footsteps come down the stairs. You lift your head and a fond smile tugs at your lips.

Everything about your husband is familiar by now, from his cerulean eyes to sharp jaw, tall frame and lean build, but you’ll never get tired of the way he looks after spending time with Lucy, that aura of tired bliss. Happiness looks good on him, you think to yourself as he walks towards you. So does that shirt.

“Hey,” you murmur as he curls an arm around your waist.

He dips his head and kisses you in lieu of hello, one that’s short but sweet. The taste of coffee and mint lingers behind on your tongue when he pulls away.

“Sorry we’re late, darling,” he says. “Lucy made a bit of a mess.”

“That’s okay. Painting again?”

“Mhm. It’s all she wants to do recently. I think I’ve created a monster.”

Now that he’s closer, you see that the material of his linen shirt has fallen victim to the paint as well, tiny polka dots of color spattered here and there. “She’s good at it, clearly. I like what she’s done to your shirt.”

“Ah, you do?”

“Yes. You look absolutely dashing.”

He leans in to kiss you once more, this time smiling against your mouth, his voice a deep whisper. “Thank you, my lovely wife.”

“EWW!” Seven shouts from the other end of the room. “Cover your eyes, Lucy. Your parents are being gross.”

You begin to pull away, your face flushed. V presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Hi, hyung!” Yoosung says cheerily.

“Yoosung. Saeyoung,” V greets warmly. “You’re both well, I hope? Thanks for coming all this way to visit us.”

“Lucy,” Yoosung corrects, his arms wound tightly around the little girl. You can’t tell who of the two looks happier. “Came here to visit Lucy.”

“Of course,” V laughs. “Then you’re both staying for dinner. For Lucy.”

“Wheeeeee!” Lucy squeals. “Stay for dinner! Stay for dinner!”

“You know, I actually had a bit of work left…” Seven’s voice trails off into a smile. “But alright. Anything for you, little Luc.”

“Great,” you say. “I’ll be off to cook soon, since it’s almost dinnertime. Care to help, Yoosung?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be right there.”

The two of you head off for the kitchen, and you hear Saeyoung’s bright plea as you walk away.

“Oh, right, V! Will you show me your new collection?”

“It’s not ready — ”

“I don’t care. I want to see!”

“I WANT TO SEE!” Lucy echoes emphatically.

You open the fridge to conceal your smile. It’s like you and V have two kids instead of one.

....

“Mommy, I think I ruined daddy’s shirt today.”

You can’t help but laugh at Lucy’s sudden revelation, lifting the blanket for her. “You got a little paint on it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Lucy crawls into bed, lying down and resting her cheek on the pillow. “But I didn’t mean to!”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It was pretty,” Lucy murmurs sadly. “Can we clean it up again?”

“Yes. Here, I’ll tell you what.” You tug the covers up until they cover her shoulders, then smooth them down so you can see her face. “We’ll clean it off together tomorrow.”

She looks up at you. “We will?”

Even four years later, it blows your mind at times how your adopted daughter could easily pass for your biological child, with long locks the same color as yours and V’s eyes, and your heart swells affectionately at the sight of her glimmering blue irises, suddenly bright with anticipation.

“Yes, my dearest.” You nudge the apple of her cheek with a gentle knuckle. “I promise. But stop worrying about daddy’s shirt and first get a good night’s sleep, okay?”

A smile tugs at her lips, and she allows her eyes to fall shut. “Okay.”

“Sweet dreams, little one.” You crouch and lean forward to press a quick kiss to her nose. “I love you so so much.”

“I love you more more more.”

“Nuh-uh. Mommy loves you most.”

“Well, I love you…mostest!” She erupts into a fit of giggles and you can’t help but laugh with her.

“Good night, silly girl.”

You turn off the lights on your way out, looking over your shoulder; in the glow of the nearby night light, Lucy burrows deeper until she’s reduced to a head of hair and a tiny lump beneath the sheets. There’s a small, loving smile on your face when you leave the room and close the door behind you.

Your room is similarly dimly lit. The source of light is coming from the bathroom and accompanied by the gentle sound of swishing water. You crack the door open. V stands shirtless in front of the mirror, bent over and washing something white in the sink.

“Oh, no,” you lament, and he looks your reflection in the mirror as you walk up behind him. “Lucy wanted to wash that out for you.”

His hands freeze in the sink. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You gently wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your face against the toned muscle of his back. “She just told me how bad she felt about getting paint on it.”

He chuckles. “Did she mention her own clothes? They were essentially her makeshift paint palette.”

“No. I was thinking about that, too,” you laugh. “It’s a weird, selfless girl we have.”

“Like mother like daughter.”

He turns around to face you. “You promised her she’d wash the shirt?” You nod. “Maybe we should mess it up again then.”

The sudden proximity (and the planes of golden muscle, the dip of his collarbones, the definition of his arms and neck) leaves you breathless. You run your fingers down his chest, your voice softening.

“I could think of a few other things we could mess up, handsome.”

The last thing you see is a boyish grin that only appears when you’ve said something suggestive and then his lips are on yours. He movies with the comfort and confidence of someone who knows your lips all too well; in no time, there’s a tongue brushing against your lower lip and an arm snaking around your waist, pulling you taut against him.

The next thing you know, you’re being lowered onto the mattress. Your head hits the pillow and V is on top of you, arms flexing as he holds himself above you, kissing you languidly, heatedly. You groan into his mouth, threading your fingers through his silky locks and tangling them at the nape of his neck, hooking a leg over his hip, wanting him closer, closer —

Through the open window comes the first chime of midnight.

There’s a church not far away that has a bell tower and sounds off the day’s hours. It’s become a commonality, but there’s something different about it tonight, something that causes you both to hesitate. V breaks the kiss, labored breath tickling your skin as the two of you listen.

Twelve chimes. Midnight.

You turn your head back to V. When you meet his gaze, his eyes are barely visible, but the small amount of moonlight that seeps through the curtains allows you to see how his face has changed entirely. His pupils are still dilated from lust, but his expression has softened. His lips have parted, unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, the beautiful aqua of his irises swimming with something you know well. Love. Adoration.

“Is it…?” He breathes.

You lift a hand to his cheek, a weak smile appearing on your lips.

“Happy anniversary, Jihyun,” you whisper.

Though he’s been living contentedly for a long time now, he’s always been quite serious. You know this is due to the ghost of his past that trails him wherever he goes; he still dreams of his mother, and often reminisces on the deep depression he fell into after Rika’s alleged suicide. The memories have undoubtedly taken their toll on him, even after all this time.

But there are rare moments when he actually looks his age, and this is one of them: when the smile that breaks across his face is, in one word, happy, so happy.

His arms wind around your waist as he leans in, dusting a kiss to your jaw, then your collarbone, where he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Four, is it?” He whispers.

“Four,” you say.

A few moments pass, the only sounds being his gentle breathing and the rhythmic beat of your pulse in your ears. And the shift of fabric as he lowers himself onto the mattress beside you, his arms circling around your waist.

“Four years,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your skin. “You know, I’m glad I have photography in my life again, as well as the friendship and trust of the RFA members, and there’s no doubt those things make me happy, but I have to be honest with myself here…you’re the reason. For all the happiness, all the love. My heart and my soul have been so at peace for so long because I’ve had you by my side.

“You and Lucy have made me the luckiest man in the world.” His voice drops, his words so quiet you only just make them out. “Thank you for coming into my life four years ago, my angel. I love you endlessly.”

You graze a finger beneath his chin, tilting his head up so you can kiss him. This time is sweet, deep, and grateful, if the grin etched on your lips is any indication.

“And I,” you say, pulling back to wrap your hands around the nape of his neck, to rest your forehead against his, “love you too, Jihyun. To the ends of the solar system and back.”

He gazes into your eyes a few moments more, and then the devilish smile is back and he’s leaning in to press a trail of kisses down your neck. You arch into him, barely hearing him over the sound of your own moan.

“Fuck it,” are his words. “Let’s make Lucy a baby sibling.”

#jihyun kim x reader #v x reader #mystic messenger #jihyun x reader #jihyun x mc #mysme #v x mc #mysme fanfic #mystic messenger oneshots #mystic messenger imagines #mine

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zenonaa · 4 years

Link

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya Characters: Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Touko, Hagakure Yasuhiro, Naegi Komaru, Asahina Aoi, Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyouko Additional Tags: togafukaweek2020 Series: Part 6 of TogaFuka Week 2020

Summary: Byakuya and Touko tell their son about the events leading up to their engagement... with help from their friends.

Comments: Day 6: Family and Wedding! It’s a two-part fic, so the second part will be posted tomorrow.

***

For as long as Aloysius Togami had been alive, his parents had been married. His father had always been Byakuya Togami, and his mother had always been Touko Togami. He knew she used to be Touko Fukawa, but she more than happily disowned her family name upon marriage and adopted her husband’s.

On multiple occasions, Aloysius paged through their wedding albums. Saw their smiles, saw their friends, saw the western theme. What he didn’t know much about was what led up to the wedding, and that was something he was especially interested to know about, now that he found himself at a similar phase in life.

“Mother. Father,” said Aloysius, holding his hands behind his back. “There’s something I need to talk to you guys about.”

His parents stared up at him, sitting on their living room couch.

“Y-You’re not dying, are you?” said Touko as a hand flew up to her mouth.

“I... no,” said Aloysius, flinching his head back.

Byakuya inclined his head and said sternly, “Are you doing drugs?”

The bravado that Aloysius brought with him crumbled as their wide eyes digested him.

“No, I’m not,” said Aloysius, growing more flustered.

Touko slung her arms over her husband’s shoulders and borderline wailed, “Did you sign up for a game show where you’re locked into an old school building and forced into a killing game?”

Her bottom lip wobbled as distress rocked her body. Aloysius pouted.

“That’s not it at all,” huffed Aloysius.

Rather than let them keep guessing, Aloysius dipped his hand into his jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out a burgundy velvet box small enough to fit in his palm. Byakuya and Touko leaned in, with the latter squeezing her husband’s shoulder, as Aloysius opened the box. It parted its jaws with a gentle click, and on its cushioned tongue perched a platinum, three stone engagement ring.

“It’s... an engagement ring!” Touko gasped, eyebrows jumping, and she slapped a hand against her cheek. Byakuya studied it closer.

“Round cut, one diamond flanked by two sapphires,” murmured Byakuya. He adjusted his glasses. “Impressive.”

“Yep,” replied Aloysius with a bob of his head, pleased with their reactions, then he glanced away, slightly bashful. “I picked it up from the store this morning.”

Touko and Byakuya fixed their eyes onto him at the same time.

“When are you going to propose?” asked Byakuya.

“How are you going to propose?” Touko chimed in. Aloysius rubbed his wrist sheepishly.

“That’s kind of why I wanted to talk to you about it first,” he explained. “I plan on proposing to Ichika today but when I propose, I want it to be special. How did you propose to Mother, Father?”

Byakuya cupped his chin. Meanwhile, Touko clasped her hands together, beaming.

“I r-remember it so clearly!” she gushed. “We were in a restaurant, and...”

“Hold on,” interrupted Byakuya, flinging up a hand for silence. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. Before I proposed to you, I purchased the ring. I know you have already done that, Aloysius, but I want to tell you my story from the start...”

He folded his arms over his chest.

“I remember it well...”

***

On a warm morning in July where the temperature had yet to reach its peak, I arrived at a jewelry store with Naegi and Hagakure. The storefront was sleek black, with golden cursive written across the top that said the shop’s name. When we approached close enough, the double doors parted, granting us entrance. I headed the group, brimming confidence as I strode inside, and I heard the doors whoosh shut behind us.

Circular lights covered the grey ceiling hanging above a dark, polished flooring. Various photographs adorned the desaturated yellow walls, portraying smiling people I didn’t know. Though my gaze lingered longer on the photographs with closeups of rings, even those didn’t capture my attention for long. Of more interest were the glass cabinets either side of me, filled with mannequin shoulders and hands that boasted different jewelry.

Hagakure let out a low whistle and rested his hands onto his hips, looking around. “This place is mighty fancy.”

“Yeah,” agreed Naegi, his eyes flitting about nervously. I nudged up my glasses and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. A low cluck escaped me.

“You two will be fine, so long as you don’t touch anything,” I assured them. They both shot wary looks at each other.

We didn’t have to dawdle long before a man in a white-blue checkered shirt received us. I can’t remember much about his appearance. Your grandmother had a photographic memory, you know. Anyway...

“Good morning, gentlemen, how can I help you today?” asked the salesman. I stepped forward.

“I’m the one you have business with,” I told him, and when his attention narrowed onto me, I added, “I need an engagement ring.”

The salesman nodded. If he had a hat, he would have tipped it. He gave off that impression. “Can do. Do you have anything particular in mind?”

“Diamond, with an interesting pattern,” I told him. “However, while I don’t want it to be plain, I don’t want it to be over the top or gimmicky... It needs to be original but elegant.”

I could tell that the salesman hadn’t been listening by the glazed look in his eyes, but he nodded anyway.

“I’m sure I can help you with that,” said the salesman. He led us to one of the glass display cabinets and swept his hand across the top. “This brand has a lot of standout designs. Do any of these tickle your fancy?”

We peered in. A lot of engagement rings that I had seen prior to this were similar - silver band with a diamond, whether it be a princess cut, oval cut, cushion cut or another, and indeed, some rings shown to me then didn’t stand out from many others I had seen not just in passing, but during my research online.

To give credit, alongside these standard engagement rings were others that had a hint of originality to them: one had a blue topaz gemstone, another had a band that wasn’t plain smooth or encrusted with smaller gemstones, but more ornate, and a ring near it had a band resembling interlaced vines.

After some deliberation, I soon set my eyes on the ring I wanted to give to Touko. It -

***

“I wouldn’t use the word ‘soon’ here,” came a slightly muffled voice.

Byakuya, Touko and Aloysius turned sharply to where the voice originated from. Yasuhiro Hagakure stood in the doorway of their living room, straddling a toothbrush between his teeth. His dreads, despite being restrained to a ponytail, were still voluminous, framing his head like rays from the Sun. He popped the toothbrush out of his mouth and padded over.

“Hi, Uncle Hiro.” Aloysius lowered his shoulders now he knew who it was. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Neither did we,” said Byakuya, squinting.

“Family doesn’t need a reason or invitation to visit family, ‘right?” said Yasuhiro, and he quickly continued talking before anyone could answer him, wagging his toothbrush. “Anyway, Togami-chi, I overheard you telling little Aloysius-chi here about the time we went to buy an engagement ring of Touko-chi, and I couldn’t help noticing that some details might have been a bit fuzzy in your memory.”

Aloysius wasn’t little. He was in his twenties. But he said nothing, too curious.

Apparently, so was his father.

“Oh?” went Byakuya, cocking his head.

Yasuhiro hit himself on the chest with the hand holding the toothbrush. “Yep! But don’t worry, I remember the scene as clear as a bell! It went like this...”

***

So, Togami-chi called me and Naegi-chi the night before, asking us to come help him pick out an engagement ring. Being the good friend that I am, after I asked how much he was willing to pay for our services and he said nothing, I conceded and said I’d do it for free because we are such good friends, ‘right? The next day, we met at my place, and Togami-chi was anxiously going, “We need to go now! We need to go now!”

***

“I said that once,” Byakuya grouched. “And I wasn’t anxious. Just annoyed. You were taking too long to put your shoes on.”

“Whatever you say,” Yasuhiro said dismissively. He perched onto the armrest of the couch. “So...”

***

I drove us there in my car - I’ve still got old reliable, by the way - and the place really was as swanky as Togami-chi made it out to be. The sign above the doors was so elegant. You know, I could make a living as a person who writes shop names on signs, my penmanship is that neat, and I even said that. Naegi-chi wondered if there was even a job just for that and Togami-chi just gave us this blank look. I totally rendered him speechless', ‘right?

We walked in, and the entire place was amazing. Aloysius-chi, I can’t overstate how fancy the place was. I felt like a celebrity at a fancy dinner party. I remember whistling and saying how fancy the place was. Everything sparkled. Jewellery twinkled from within their glass cases, and light reflected off polished services. Totally ethereal.

Naegi-chi agreed with me. We couldn’t touch anything without risking millions in damages. Togami-chi was full of concern seeing us fidget, and he said, “You two will be fine, so long as you don’t touch anything.”

As we waited to for someone to come over, his demeanour changed. Nerves got the better of him. He gritted his teeth, looking around for a salesperson. Not long after, this guy came over to greet us and let me tell you, he was... wow!

***

Yasuhiro thumped himself on the chest, his lips stretched out as he beamed widely.

***

So this guy. His hair was, I would say, mahogany brown and slightly wavy, hanging just past his shoulders, and his moustache and goatee were well-trimmed. Not a hair out of place. He gave us the warmest of smiles I’ve ever seen and waved to us with a friendly gleam in his eyes. A guy like that should have been working as a model or something.

Togami-chi wanted to see some jewelry, and the guy - Katsumi Suzuki, by the way - took us to one cabinet. Katsumi-chi listened with utmost patience as Togami-chi described the ring he sought.

“Diamond, with an interesting pattern,” rambled Togami-chi, one hand on his hip and one hand pointing a finger at the ceiling. “However, while I don’t want it to be plain, I don’t want it to be over the top or gimmicky. It needs to be original but elegant.”

Katsumi-chi nodded attentively and showed us some. Togami-chi then tucked his hands behind his back and bent forward, practically pressing his face against the glass as he ogled the rings in there.

***

“I didn't do it like that,” snapped Byakuya. Yasuhiro shrugged and carried on.

***

There was at least condensation splattered onto the glass. Anyway... Togami-chi had Katsumi-chi take out, one by one, basically the complete collection. Each time, Togami-chi adjusted his glasses and went cross-eyed as he examined the latest ring. And every time, he would click his tongue and pick out another one for Katsumi-chi to show him so he could do the same thing again.

We went through the entire collection before Togami-chi twitched his head back and sneered, “Is that all you have?”

When Togami-chi’s nervous, as you know, he gets cranky. He drummed his fingers against his arms and groped his glasses the whole time.

Katsumi-chi was all professional, full of smiles, and he clapped his hands together. In a breezy voice, he said, “I have another collection for you! Please, follow me.”

No joke, we went around the entire store until Togami-chi finally decided on a ring.

***

Byakuya scowled. “I was not nervous. Now, be quiet. I’ll tell the rest.”

***

I was impatient. I didn’t leave this to the last minute, so I had no reason to be nervous. That man kept showing me rings that didn’t fit the image in my head, and I didn’t have all day. I had other things planned. Some of those rings I knew I could get online for far cheaper if I wanted... though, of course, I didn’t want those. He dared show me some alloy zircon rings that I could obtain elsewhere with the same amount of money one might find down the back of their sofa!

When he realised he risked losing a customer, he squeezed his hands together and begged, “I have another collection for you! Please, follow me!”

My refusal to be ripped off or go away with something neither me nor Touko would be satisfied with paid off. In the end, I spotted three rings that I most approved of.

One was a silver band that didn’t connect the whole way. A round cut diamond punctuated one end and affixed on the other end was a diamond shaped into a flat flower.

For the second ring, the golden band looped twice, and on it was a round cut pink diamond gripped in golden claws, and around the claws, silver rose heads were embedded into the band.

Finally, the third ring, gold-banded, was studded with clear diamonds, and it contained a purple diamond surrounded by small golden leaves.

After a lot of thought, I went with the ring with the pink diamond. I even managed to buy it for a cheaper price than usual. Naegi and Hagakure had their faces buried in their hands, in awe of my debating skills the entire time.

***

“It was more like cringing than awe,” said Yasuhiro, wrinkling his nose. His face smoothed when he turned to Aloysius. “So anyway, Aloysius-chi, that’s how Togami-chi bought his engagement ring.”

Touko sighed happily, slumping against her husband’s side. Aloysius rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh... thanks,” he said with a lopsided smile. “That was an enjoyable story, but I’m more interested in how the actual proposal went down. That’s the part I’m at now.”

Byakuya lifted his chin, puffing out his chest.

“Hagakure, make us some coffee,” instructed Byakuya, pointing at Yasuhiro, who rose and shuffled into the kitchen. Then Byakuya folded his arms over his chest. “Aloysius, part of the reason we explained that part of our engagement story was to illustrate to you how much thought went into every single stage.”

Touko nodded fervently, squeezing her knees. “T-That’s right... but I think it’s my turn to tell the rest of the story.”

She sat back, raised her hands and laced her fingers together.

“I remember it so clearly...!” said Touko. Her gaze unfocused, and a toothy smile spread across her face. “Unbeknownst to me, Byakuya spent a long time planning the perfect time to propose to me...”

***

I bit on my thumbnail as I peered into my opened wardrobe, a purchase from a thrift shop. It didn’t contain enough clothes to fill the entire thing. Half of the contents consisted of work clothes, plain blouses and long skirts of the muted colours with dark purple being the most colourful of the lot. The other half offered more variety, like a canary yellow dress with a low neckline, allowing for me to wear a frilly white blouse underneath.

Still. Nothing flashy. I held my breath as I lifted the hanger off the rail and pulled out the yellow dress. It swayed a bit before stilling.

“That’s way too casual!” groaned Komaru, standing off to my side. Even after so long, I can remember her fists balled beneath her chin, her chibi head too big for her body.

Her sudden vocalisation sent a shock wave ripping through my body that made me twitch. I clenched the hanger tighter with both hands and pressed it against myself.

“I was just checking it,” I replied, and once my heartbeat returned to normal, I put the hanger back on the rail. With my hands free, I curled my fingers into my palms and knocked my knuckles together. “For my date with Byakuya-sama, I have to consider all possibilities.”

For example, though I knew we were going to a restaurant, what if we decided to do something else afterwards? It would be dinnertime, leaving the rest of the night available for us to fill. We could go on a walk, or spend the night together at his apartment. Then I would have to wear something comfortable... and something easy to take off. Heheh... Ah! As I was saying, it could rain, or become cold, or too hot. There were so many factors to account for.

Komaru crossed her arms.

“It’s not like you don’t know how it will play out. You’ve been on loads of dates with Togami-san already,” Komaru pointed out. I whined.

“Yes! B-But that doesn’t mean I can slack!”

Honestly, I could have tugged on my hair with frustration. Komaru grabbed a hanger off the rail and waved it around.

“Fine. What about this one?” she asked.

I snatched it from her, and as I twisted my body from her, I protected it from her with myself as a shield.

“This one is way too flashy! I’d stick out like a sore thumb,” I hissed.

The hanger in my hands held a sleeveless dress gifted to me by not just Komaru, but her brother too for my last birthday. It was knee-length and pale pink with red petals printed around the skirt, more condensed toward the bottom, like the petals were falling from above and joining the pile below. A black, translucent lace shawl attached to the dress hung from the shoulders to where the skirt of the dress began, matching the colour of the collar.

“It’s perfect!” Komaru announced. She propped her hands onto her hips. “You should tots wear it.”

Admittedly, I was hesitant, because the dress wasn’t exactly like what one would expect at a formal do. The pattern on it stood out, was very striking, but at the same time, it wasn’t casual. That was why I had yet to wear it - I didn’t know what sort of situation it was most appropriate for. Not around the house, but if I went somewhere fancy, people might think it was tacky. I stood there, biting my lip as I studied it.

“Come on, Touko-chan,” Komaru pleaded, clasping her hands together and shaking them.

She persisted, and in the end, I relented, putting it on. When I was done, Komaru uncovered her eyes and beamed.

“You look amazing!” Komaru cheered, throwing up her arms. My eyes narrowed. I grumbled, averting my gaze and trying not to smile.

Byakuya met me at the front gates of the school grounds. As soon as I saw him, I ran over. The weather indulged us that day. A clear blue sky stretched overhead, and the warm temperature didn’t oppress or cling too tightly. My heels clacked against the pavement, sounding like the crackling of fireworks. He scooped me into his arms, and I could have stayed against his chest forever. Tempting though that was, I receded, slightly winded. If I remained there, I wouldn’t be able to stare up and admire him, let alone go on our date.

“This dress isn’t tacky, is it?” I asked once I came out of his embrace. I pinched at the skirt.

“No,” he replied, studying it. “It has an interesting pattern.”

I let go of my dress and grinned wider.

As expected, Byakuya opted for a suit, dark green, consisting of a jacket with a waistcoat underneath and a shirt that was ever so slightly tinged pink. He was absolutely dashing, as always, and he took my hand as we slipped into the taxi.

On the ride there, I gently leaned against him, watching the urban scenery flit by through the window. We disembarked in the car park by the restaurant and walked inside together, gave our names and let a waiter lead us to our table. A candle flickered between us, encased in a clear orb. Our surroundings were all cheerful browns, some accented with other colours, like the green leaves of a plant or white tablecloth. Shortly after we were seated, we ordered drinks - red wine, I recall...

***

“It was a blend of grenache and syrah,” Byakuya interjected.

A grin exploded across her face. She grasped her hands tightly together.

***

Yes! That exactly. I remember how Byakuya raised his glass and announced a toast, and I couldn’t quell my smile as he clinked my glass against his. First, the pork gyoza arrived... They were divine. A crispy bottom and tender top encased juicy innards, shaped like crescent moons that could fit easily in one’s palm. Truly an amalgamation of textures. I p-picked up one with my chopsticks and offered it to Byakuya.

To my delight, he opened his mouth. I could see his teeth, and his cute pink tongue... I popped it into his mouth. Then he picked up a gyoza and offered it to me! My face heated up as I opened my mouth with an aah, and he slid his pork between my puckered lips...

***

The tables in the restaurant retreated in puffs of smoke, and when they cleared, the sleek brown furnishing had disappeared, revealing the living room’s white walls and a painting of Byakuya, Touko and a four year old who used to be Aloysius many years ago. In the painting, the streaks of silver that Byakuya’s hair had now weren’t visible, but other than a few less wrinkles, Aloysius’s parents hadn’t changed much. Those shadowy figures at the restaurant tables vanished, and the only people left were gathered around a couch that popped out of the carpet. No longer did they chatter - their voices became the rumble of distance traffic.

A low laugh rumbled from Touko. Her gaze clouded over.

When Touko didn’t continue speaking after a few seconds, Aloysius coughed, and Touko gave a start. Byakuya pursed his lips. Both were used to how Touko’s mind sometimes wandered. The smile on her face dripped off as she recollected herself. She wiggled, sitting up, and Aloysius waited for the rest of the story.

However, the next person to speak wasn’t her. Not either of them.

“Are you telling the story of when you got engaged?” piped up Komaru from behind the couch.

Touko squawked and bent over sharply. Aloysius’s shoulders twitched. Even Byakuya had jolted slightly and needed to adjust his glasses. That was definitely Komaru, olive eyes, brown hair and all. Komaru tilted her head to one side, eyebrows raised in confusion as both her hands rested on the top of the back of the couch.

“D-Don’t sneak up on me!” Touko said, hand over her heart and glaring over her shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you saw me come in,” said Komaru, wincing a little. She gave a small wave with one hand and directed a nod across the room. “I waved as I came in, and Hagakure-san waved back, so I thought you knew...”

Everyone looked at Yasuhiro, who stood near the doorway to the kitchen, carrying a tray of drinks. He tensed, then gave a small laugh and cupped the back of his head, keeping hold of the tray in his other hand.

“I didn’t want to interrupt the story!” he explained, showing a lot of teeth in his grin.

“How long have you been here for?” Byakuya asked, and when Aloysius turned to him, he saw that Byakuya had fixed his stare on Komaru.

“Enough to know what point we’re at,” Komaru said. She folded her arms over the top of the couch and leaned her weight into it. When Yasuhiro set down the tray of refreshments in front of them, she faced Aloysius and chirped, “Hey, let me tell you the next part. Otherwise we won’t ever get to the juicy parts. Touko-chan always gets caught up on the little details.”

A crease formed on Touko’s brow, darkening her features, and Touko opened her mouth to object, but before she could, Komaru started speaking anyway.

***

Okay, first off, I did not have a chibi body. Let’s make that clear. Just because I was the cute little sister type, doesn’t mean -

***

“I didn’t mean it literally, you pea brain,” grumbled Touko. Komaru put on a sulky pout, but Aloysius could tell that she wasn’t offended. Byakuya held in a sigh.

When one of Aloysius’s other aunts, Aoi, said those three could put on a comedy act together, she hadn’t been kidding. Yasuhiro smirked at them.

Aloysius raised his hands, facing his palms toward Komaru. “Um... can we get back to the story, please?”

Komaru wiped off her pouty look.

“All right,” she said, still slumped against the couch. She straightened.

***

We spent ages getting Touko-chan ready for her date. Like... hours. Now, though Touko-chan invited me over to help her get ready, I knew something she didn’t. The night before, Togami-san called to tell me about his plan to propose to Touko-chan at their next date.

***

“You then spent the next ten minutes quizzing me about it,” Byakuya remarked with an annoyed frown. Aloysius snorted.

Komaru, who had tapped her nose when she revealed her secret, lowered her hand. She peeled her body off the couch completely and parked her hands onto her hips.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she asked.

***

This way, I knew exactly what to do. I came over to her place after lunch and helped her prepare for what would be, unbeknownst to her, a life-changing experience. Touko-chan stewed over what to wear for almost forever, dithering nonstop at her wardrobe, and when she seemed like she planned to choose this plain yellow dress you might wear on a trip to the seaside, I couldn’t just stand there idly and nod, nod, nod to appease her. See, I knew how big a deal this would be to both of them. I needed to act, and fast.

“That’s way too casual!” I blurted, making Touko-chan jump.

“I was just checking it,” she replied defensively, but she returned the hanger to the rail. She fidgeted her hands, grimacing, and added, “For my date with Byakuya-sama, I have to consider all possibilities.”

Of course, I knew that. In fact, I knew more than her. This date was extra special. I couldn’t let her know that though. While I couldn’t let her be too casual, I couldn’t let her go extreme the other way.

“It’s not like you don’t know how it’s going to play out. You’ve been on loads of dates with Togami-san already,” I said, hoping that would keep her expectations high but not like, crazy high.

“Yes! B-But that doesn’t mean I can slack!” she replied shrilly.

Poor Touko-chan could get herself worked up over an anthill. To be honest, she still can. Don’t give me that look, Touko-chan! You know it’s true.

It was a good thing Togami-kun recruited me to make sure everything went according to his plan. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t been there? Touko-chan might even have turned up at the restaurant three days late. Remembering the dress I bought her for her birthday - with help from Makoto’s paycheck, I pulled it out of Touko’s wardrobe and showed it to her.

“What about this one?” I suggested.

Touko-chan already described it so I won’t bore everyone with the details, but it was a really pretty dress, let me emphasise that. The lace at the top was attached to a black collar and collars make almost every outfit seem just a bit smarter at the least, you know? I thought it would add a bit of oomph to her wardrobe. It’s so dreary otherwise... like she got all her outfits at a museum.

She screeched like a cat having its tail trodden on and tore the dress from my hands, shielding it with her body. “This one is way too flashy! I’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

I stuck out my chest. “It’s perfect. You should tots wear it.”

We bickered a bit but with my charm, I triumphed. Touko-chan sulked as I did her hair, tying it into a bun on top of her head. She has so much hair. The whole time, she kept checking her phone for messages or to keep track of the time. Anyway, as soon as she spotted Togami-san at the gates, she perked up and ran over to him. When she reached him, she stumbled over in her high heels, but Togami-san managed to catch her.

***

“You didn’t need to mention that part,” muttered Touko, hunching her shoulders. Komaru waggled her tongue at her.

***

What? It was cute! Thankfully, they avoided a night in a hospital room. I remember wishing I could be in a situation like that with someone. Not the hospital room thing! The thing that actually happened! It was just like from an anime.

They talked then held each other’s hands for a moment before getting into the taxi together, but of course, that’s not the end of the story. Togami-san had told me the name of the restaurant, and I couldn’t not be at my best friend’s engagement, so I roped in three of our friends to make sure it worked out perfectly. So me, Kyouko-chan, Aoi-chan and Kanon-chan got on our bicycles and -

***

“You what?” said Byakuya and Touko at the same time, and then, also in synchronization, they jerked their heads back. Komaru clasped her hands together and oozed a guilty smile.

Then, by herself, Touko said, seething, “I w-wondered how you all showed up so quickly when - ”

“Don’t spoil the story!” Komaru said loudly, flapping her hands.

Touko sank back into the couch moodily, letting Komaru continue. Byakuya draped his arm around Touko and rubbed her shoulder.

***

As I was saying, we got on our bicycles and made chase whilst ensuring neither of them realised we were keeping close tabs on them. Sometimes, we scattered, or took shortcuts through alleyways.

Togami-san told me he planned to propose after dessert, so we didn’t have to follow them into the building right away. In fact, it would have been better to wait until after they settled down, lowering their guards, so until then, the four of us popped into a local ice cream parlor and all had some ice cream in the meantime.

Then, after we finished, we thought we would check out a few stores before sneaking our way into the restaurant. Meals always take forever to come in those sorts of places, so I reckoned we had an hour minimum to spare. Kanon-chan wanted to see if the sports store stocked her baseball bat line - dedicated to her cousin, may Kuwata-san rest in peace - so we went there, and they had some, so we...

***

Touko held her head in her hands and fussed, “You were complaining about how I would never get to the ‘juicy’ parts, and now you’re going off on a tangent about your shopping trip. No one wants to hear about that.”

She shook her head, eyes downcast, baring her teeth.

“My Aloysius wants to hear about the suspense! The drama!” Touko insisted. “Not... Not what ice creams you got, or what you bought in a sports shop!”

Aloysius fixed his eyes on Komaru.

“Drama?” he repeated curiously. Komaru raised her fists with a moody expression.

“Fine! You want an exciting story, I’ll give you one,” she said.

***

So while Togami-san and Touko-chan were being really interesting eating heavily described food or whatever, full of metaphors and similes and junk, the rest of us were walking out of the arcade, Kyouko-chan holding a giant plush penguin in her arms that Aoi won for her, when we heard a huge BANG!

***

Komaru mimed explosions with her hands. Aloysius stared.

***

Out of nowhere. Bang! I nearly jumped out of my skin. The four of us all exchanged eyebrows-up looks, mouths hanging ajar, and then around us, people started yelling and running... At first, we didn’t understand what they were responding to, but then we noticed they were all yelling and running away from the area that contained the restaurant.

Within seconds, smoke started to bleed into the sky, as black as coal.

Okay, I know, I know. Black as coal? Hey, Touko-chan’s the writer here, not me. The smoke was thick and contaminated more and more of the sky as seconds sprinted past.

“What the hell was that?” asked Kanon-chan, shielding her eyes with her hand.

“It sounded like an explosion,” Aoi-chan said, hovering a hand nervously by her mouth.

As always, Kyouko-chan was ready.

“Come on,” she said in that quiet but firm voice of hers, gesturing with the arm not carrying her penguin toy, and the four of us hurried down the street, heading toward the source of the smoke.

Dodging past screaming civilians who either stumbled, cowered or both, my mind swam with possibilities of what could have caused such a scene. Had someone tried setting off a firework in the early evening? Into the velvety violet sky? Did a car veer and crash into a building, blowing out a cloud of dust not unlike something from an episode of Thomas the Tank Engine?

That was an old British children’s television show, Aloysius.

A little voice in the back of my head kept asking, ‘What if something happened at the restaurant?’ The screams and spluttering of footsteps helped drown it out, but my chest tightened like a fist clenched around it. No matter how much I screamed in my head, I couldn’t block that worry out completely.

When the restaurant slid into frame, it confirmed our suspicions. I froze, staring at the partially demolished restaurant. A scream got trapped in my throat. My eyes watered at the acidic stench of destruction.

#togafuka #touko fukawa #byakuya togami #danganronpa #dr3 #makoto naegi #kyouko kirigiri #yasuhiro hagakure #komaru naegi #aoi asahina #fanfiction #togafukaweek #round robin

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keepingupwithfundies · 4 years

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CO 1110: From Snow to Sand

The Vuolos host friends, and take them from snow to sand in one weekend. Joe and Ben host a Dad-chelor Party for John. Joy & Austin share exciting news with their family.

-T

Minor Miscarriage TW: Mentions of Miscarriage at the end of the episode, as Joy announces her pregnancy and hosts a gender reveal.

In LA, the Vuolos' friends James and Seung Hye are in town. They've been friends for a while, and have been on the show before. James photographed Jeremy's proposal to Jinger, and came to visit in Laredo and are now visiting LA. Seung Hye says California is so warm and nice, and asks how they're settling in. Jinger says it feels like home, and they are excited to snow their friends around. Jeremy says LA is one of the few areas of the country where you can quickly go from snow to sand, and that is the plan for the weekend. Everyone is excited for this plan.

Joe and Ben are throwing John a Dad-chelor Party- a play on "Bachelor party" for someone about to have a child. But Gracie came early, but they've decided to go ahead with the party anyway. Ben says it will be fun to have some guy time and celebrate with John. They're gonna do the "ultimate man food" steaks, and lots of games-diaper basketball. Spurgeon asks if he can go, and Ben says yes. They head to go shopping. First, they go to the butcher shop and the grocery store. They go to Jer & Jed's place, and Ben wets diapers in the sink. The guys arrive from the Duggar house- and Ben and joe have gotten funny tshirts for everyone- uncle shirts for the younger guys. Spurgeon says James is his favorite uncle, because he fixes stuff when it's broken. Austin's shirt says "I Make Cut Babies" and Josiah's says "Ask Me About My Dad Jokes." In talking heads, they tell dad jokes.

Back in California, the friends arrive at the mountains of Big Bear Lake. It's a bit warm, but there is snow. Another friend, Madison, watches Felicity while everyone else heads up the mountain. Everyone is excited for tubing, and they have fun heading down the mountain. Jeremy teases James for wearing a Team USA Olympic jacket, but James did a photoshoot for figure staking Olympians. After tubing, they head to the alpine slide- you ride on a little sled, and you can control your speed as you go. The Vuolos both head out and go fast- but Jinger uses her break a little, so Jeremy wins. James and Seung Hye go next, and James goes quickly as well. Seung Hye uses a heavy hand on her break and moves more slowly. Everyone teases her, and she makes it to the end of the hill. Everyone had a fun day, and they are excited to go to the beach tomorrow.

Back in Arkansas, John arrives at his Dad-chelor Party. John says they have been doing well since Gracie arrived, and they've been laying low and staying home so much. Ben sets everyone up to play diaper basketball-it's best of 5. Everyone has fun shooting and making jokes, and it ends up in a tie of John, Jer, Ben, Justin and Josiah with 3 each. They have them step back and go again. Justin ends up winning the tiebreaker. Next up, the steaks are served without any sides. As they eat, they talk about Gracie- and John says Abbie does most of the late nights to feed Gracie. In a Talking Head, Abbie says if she woke up him, he would do anything she needed. Joe says he doesn't wake up, he's a heavy sleeper-and Austin says he's a light sleeper and wakes up Joy. Josiah, Austin and Ben recount their experiences with newborns, and Ben says Ivy is their easiest baby yet. John says Gracie relies on them for everything, and taking care of her is a privilege and an honor. Ben asks everyone to give encouragement to John, and says he is an encouragement to his family and he is excited for them. The other guys say they knew John would be a great dad because he was a great big brother, and they joke about the boys room. JB asks John what he misses about the boy's room, and John says "absolutely nothing," and everyone laughs. The other brothers talk about what a good person John is, and Austin talks about how he always also saw John as a role model: he's wise beyond his years, and Austin is looking forward to seeing him raise Austin. Ben says it is important for guys to affirm and encourage one another. John says the party was a lot of fun, and he really enjoyed it. JB says they should do this for every new grandbaby, and Justin jokes they'd be over every week.

Back in LA, the Vuolos and friends head to Venice beach for a picnic. Felicity is so cute, and she loves the beach and food. She is very social, Jeremy says, and she is talking a lot to James and Seung Hye. Felicity is also particular, and she doesn't like to have anything on her hands. Jeremy says it is nice to be in a place where they can do things like this, and they should be more intentional about planning days out. Jeremy says while Felicity means they have to include extra planning, it is cool to see her explore the world. James asks Jeremy if he's been in the Pacific, and Jeremy says no. Jeremy and James agree to plunge in after lunch. They talk about kites- and Jeremy says he doesn't remember flying a kite ever. Jinger says they flew kites all the time growing up, but she's never done it on the beach. There is no wind on Venice beach that day, so Jeremy sprints to get it up in the air- it doesn't last long. Felicity is not impressed with the kites at all. After running around with the kites, the guys are ready to plunge into the ocean-and they both run into the very cold pacific. It was freezing, but both guys are pleased with their dip. The Snow to Sand adventure was a big hit.

Joy and Austin are expecting, and they are excited to reveal the gender to their family. Joy says the pregnancy has been harder since time since their loss, but the whole family is thrilled for them. The family gathers up together outside, and Jessa says just about every gender reveal has been used up so far. Joy is having John fly over in a helicopter and drop confetti over the group. The helicopter approaches, and everyone is looking for the color. Everyone guesses blue or pink, and Joy is so excited as the helicopter comes closer. Pink confetti rains down on them, and everyone celebrates. Michelle is surprised it is another granddaughter-and everyone is excited for another little girl. This baby means it will officially be 9 boys and 9 girl Grandduggars. Everyone is excited, and this reveal was over the top. Joy says it has been a tough road, but she is excited and thankful everything is ok.

#CO season 11 #recap #counting on #miscarriage mention

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mymelodyheart · 4 years

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Highland Destiny Chapter 7 ~Vive La France~

Claire carefully pulled out a box from her wardrobe. It was a box that contained Frank's important documents, among other things. Geillis had mentioned the name Jared Fraser in a conversation the previous night while they were discussing Jaime, and somewhere on the back of her head, the name rang a bell. She had seen it written somewhere before. But where?

She browsed through all the papers and finally pulled one out that caught her eye. On the letterhead, it said Château Cheval Blanc. Claire had seen this document in the past but never paid close attention to it, just like with the rest of the papers Frank left behind. After her husband died, her lawyer had gone through everything she bequeathed and her endowment fund policies, but nothing registered at that time because of the grief she was going through. Not wanting to deal with the bureaucracy that comes after the death of a family member, all the papers have been put away to be forgotten. Now, looking at the single piece of paper in her hand, Claire Beauchamp just realised she was a 15% shareholder of the company Château Cheval Blanc, formerly owned by the late Jared Fraser.

..........

James Fraser was watching Claire from the bedroom door as he leaned on the door frame. She was putting away a box labelled "FRANK" into the wardrobe. He wondered if she still missed her late husband. The thought of her thinking of another man, deceased or alive, didn't sit well in his wame. It felt like an overwhelming burn blossoming at the bottom of its pit only to rise up to his chest and make his heart constrict. "Sassenach, I have to go soon," he said softly.

Distracted, she looked at his direction. "Oh right, I forgot you have a plane to catch...give me a sec." She was frowning and seemed lost in her thoughts. Will she miss me? Studying her surreptitiously, he noticed how small she looked dressed in nothing but his shirt and that ridiculous white woollen socks she loved to wear when at home. With her hair loose and wild, she had her reading glasses perched on her head buried in the riot of curls. When Claire did finally come to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his chest beaming at him with her cheeks flushed and her lips still swollen from his kisses. She smelled of bergamot oil and wildflowers, and her breath of coffee. "Right soldier, have a safe trip. Enjoy Paris for me!" She stood on tiptoes and gave him a kiss, her lips soft and warm and very inviting.

He looked down at her bright amber eyes and once again he was drawn to its bottomless pools of whisky gold. "Christ Sassenach, I will be missing ye so much. I wish ye were coming with me." He wrapped his arms around her and lowered his head to give her a thorough kiss. The sounds she made at the back of her throat was driving him insane with lust, making leaving difficult. It was only two hours ago they made love, and he felt like doing it all over again.

"I will miss you too, but you'll be back tomorrow night...so enjoy while you're there," she whispered. "Besides, you'll be too preoccupied to think of me. You must be one very important man to be sent to Paris on a business mission." She nuzzled her face at the base of his throat, careful not to disturb his tie while her small hands made their way under his suit, causing him to smile.

"I guess I have my use. How about ye? What will ye do without me?" he asked, his forefinger caressing the lines of her jaw while his other hand slipped under her shirt and settled underneath the waistband of her panties. He wanted her to say, I don't know what I'll do without you. Or something ridiculous like , I will feel lost without you.

"Well...I have friends coming over tonight. Geillis, Joe and Tom. We'll be watching rugby with a few pizzas and wine thrown in..." she replied, her fingers weaving through his hair at the nape of his neck, making goosebumps rise on his skin.

Jamie stiffened at the mention of Tom's name but maintained his cool. "Alright, no wild parties. I ken what ye're like when ye've had a bit too much to drink..." What was she thinking? This home was their bubble away from the prying eyes of the world.

"Like I lose all my inhibitions? Like I did with you? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" she ribbed, as she ran her hands down his back to momentarily rest on his arse and then slowly glide up again from the base of his spine to his shoulder blades.

He smiled despite having mixed feelings about Tom Christie coming over to the cottage. "I'm having difficulty leaving ye Sassenach, and yet ye're teasing me." She stood so close, he wanted her to cling to him and wrap her legs around his waist. He could have easily lifted her up to him, but he wanted so badly for her to make that move.

"Oh, so am I a tease now? Look who's talking." She laughed as she released him. "Alright soldier, on you go...you don't want to miss your flight." But I don't want to go. Ask me to stay.

Instead of letting go, he held her tight and searched her face. Jamie wanted to say something...anything, but for once, he was at a loss for words. Not that he didn't want to say what he wished to convey, but because he didn't know how to say it. The only thing he knew was that his feelings for Claire were too powerful for words, so instead, he showed her with his kiss.

..........

Normally, the first thing James Fraser would do when he arrived in Paris was to call Annalise de Marillac, his on and off girlfriend/lover for the last 4 years and a well-known socialite among the Parisienne celebrious. Twice they were engaged and twice she broke off their engagement, not because of Jamie but because of what she perceived her life would be living in Scotland. She loved the celebrity lifestyle and the fame that came with it, and Jamie preferred a quiet life in the highlands. Although they have broken up amicably, they have maintained a no-strings-attached sexual relationship whenever Jamie came to Paris.

A celebrity in his own right, after a successful breakthrough with Frisealach in Europe, James Fraser never cared for the limelight. His publicist, François de St. Germain insisted he maintained a well-publicised profile to capture the interest of the international market. Following his advice proved to be profitable for his business, and soon he was rubbing shoulders with the elite, and world-renowned whisky connoisseurs. Jamie was often photographed with and linked to beautiful women in tabloid newspapers - all in the name of marketing and promotions for Frisealach Distillery. With his good looks, charm and business acumen at such a young age, it didn't take long before he became the darling of European media, and his whisky was most sought after.

His fame led his uncle Jared to approach him for help when his wine business, Château Cheval Blanc, the biggest in France started to fail due to some unfavourable judgments in the past. It was barely surviving and was only being propped up by investors who acquired shares on a condition to invest a substantial amount of money. The biggest shareholder was Annalise de Marillac's father, the ambitious Frédéric de Marillac. Before Jamie's uncle died, his only dying wish from his nephew was to make sure the company stayed under Fraser's name, and he promised his uncle he would do what he can.

In the last five years, Jamie had made it his mission to buy out all the shareholders but only managed to accumulate 40% of the shares of the company. When he offered to buy out Frédéric de Marillac's 45%, it was turned down even when the offer was double its value. After finding out Jamie was seeing his daughter, Frédéric Marillac agreed to the proposition under the condition he married Annalise. Frédéric knew Jamie was desperate to have the company under sole ownership. And Frédéric also knew that Jamie's marriage to his daughter would boost his own business, recognising the fact that his prominence was quickly rising and opening important doors in the corporate world. Although Jaime was willing to marry Annalise for the sake of keeping the company in Fraser's name, he wasn't prepared to give up living in Scotland, and Annalise wasn't ready to leave the celebrity lifestyle.

When Annalise broke off their engagement, it became a race for the two businessmen to find the elusive 15% shareholder for control over the business. In reality, James Fraser had no power over the company, but in the media, he was the image that represented Château Cheval Blanc.

..........

Jamie walked in into his luxury suite in The Four Seasons Hôtel George V and threw his travelling case onto the massive, luxurious bed. He had always stayed there whenever he came to Paris because he knew Annalise loved the extravagant, sumptuous settings. He had booked the room weeks in advance before he met Claire, and now, looking at his surrounding, he felt hollow and empty and the beauty of it meaningless.

He reached for his phone and instead of calling Annalise, he called Claire.

"Sassenach? Hi, it's me, Jamie."

"Jaime! Of course, it's you, silly! Who else would call me by that name? Are you in Paris already?" Her voice sounded like a balm to his soul.

"Aye, I just came into my room," he replied, smiling to himself as he loosened his tie and leaned back against the headboard. "Mmm, are ye alright, Sassenach?

"Yeah, I'm great. You?" He could hear running water.

"Aye, I'm just getting comfortable. What are ye doing? Are ye busy?" I hope not.

Claire laughed. "I knew you were about to ask that. I'm having a bath right now. I went for a walk earlier in the fields to pick some wildflowers but came home all drenched. I was so cold I had to run a bath. That's Scottish weather for you!"

"Sassenach?"

There was a long pause before Claire replied. "Yes, Jaime?"

"I really miss you."Jaime wanted to say more, but he was unsure what.

"Oh Jamie, I missed you too but seriously, did you call up just to tell me that? Don't you have work to do?" She sounded amused.

Ignoring the question, Jamie asked, "What do ye miss about me?"

"Well, if you must know, I missed the sound of the floorboard creaking under your weight whenever you're walking around," she said giggling.

"Is that all?" He asked in a more serious tone.

Jamie heard Claire sigh. "Are you homesick Jamie? Don't worry, in just over 24 hours you'll be home soon."

"Aye, ye're right Sassenach, I'll be home soon to ye." Jamie felt comforted by this thought.

..........

Jamie had made up his mind. In truth, he only wanted to save Château Cheval Blanc, because it was his uncle's request and he wanted to preserve his family heritage. It was time to cut off his ties with the de Marillacs. He will make one last offer, and if Frédéric turns it down, then it's time to move on. Jamie knew he had done his best, and if the meeting turned out to be unsuccessful, nothing more could be done.

As expected, Frédéric turned down the offer since he knew the business in Château Cheval Blanc was picking up again after Jamie's name was linked to the company. But Jamie wanted no more part of it and had arranged with his lawyer, Ned Gowan, to prepare the papers for the sale of his own shares. Not surprisingly, a couple of hours after the meeting concluded, Annalise sent him a text.

Darling, I heard you were in town. Why didn't you call? Anyway, we need to talk. Maybe I was hasty breaking off our engagement. I was young, and I loved the parties, but now I'm ready to settle down. We can live in Scotland if you wish. Or wherever in the world. I can't talk now, but I will be coming to Scotland in the next few days. We can talk about our wedding then.

Jamie tried to call Annalise to tell her it was over, but she didn't answer the phone.

.........

Claire had just come out of the shower, her hair still wet and wearing only Jamie's shirt, as she made way to the kitchen. The plan was to make quiche for Jamie's supper when he arrives. Earlier in the day she had quickly tidied up the lounge, getting rid of the evidence of previous night's rugby party with her friends. She was in the middle of chopping leeks when a car parked outside. Unable to see from the window, she wondered who it might be. Looking at the clock, it was only 4 pm, and Jamie wasn't expected until 9 that evening. She was just heading for the bedroom to put a robe on when the front door suddenly opened.

"Jamie! You're home early!"

Jamie dropped his bag and coat on the floor, and without saying a word, he walked towards Claire in 3 strides and lifted her in his arms. Before she could say a word, he had her pinned against the wall, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing her hungrily.

"Oh God, Sassenach I missed ye so much," he muttered when he finally released her mouth for some air. He proceeded to kiss her neck as his hands roamed her body and stopped when he realised she wasn't wearing anything underneath. "Christ Claire, what are ye doing walking around the house half-naked? What if ye had visitors?"

She laughed. "Visitors came and went last night. And...by the way, welcome home soldier. I wasn't expecting you this early."

Still holding her against him, Jamie carried Claire to the dining area and sat down on a chair with her straddling him. He nestled his face into her neck, his arms pulling her body closer. "Weel, work was done early, and I couldna wait to come home to ye...so I bought an earlier ticket."

"Jamie," she whispered, "you feel at home here, with me?"

He lifted his head and smiled. "Aye Sassenach, I do. Ye didna mind having me around, dae ye?"

"No, Jamie. I don't mind having you around," she replied, her arms wrapping around his neck.

They sat hugging each other for some time, not speaking, just holding each other close, listening to each other's heartbeat.

"Sassenach?"

"Mmmm?"

"Will ye accompany on Saturday as my date to a charity ball? Frisealach will be hosting the event to raise money for St. Agnes, and I would like it verra much if ye can come."

Claire smiled. "Of course, Jaime I would love to." And with that, she pulled his head closer and kissed the top of his head.

#melodyheart #highlanddestiny #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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salmankhanholics · 4 years

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★ Mohnish Bahl: I Thought I Was Finished After Six Flops And Decided To Become A Pilot!

03 January, 2021

Mohnish Bahl does not miss being in the movies. In fact, he prefers making only sporadic appearances in a film or two now. But his name evokes memories of his villainous turn in ‘Maine Pyar Kiya’ (1989), which he followed up by playing the doting elder brother in ‘Hum Aapke Hain Koun..!’. The Salman Khanand Bhagyashree-starrer celebrated 31 years of its release last week, and ETimes reached out to Mohnish to find out about what he was up to now. During the course of the conversation, the son of legendary actress Nutan recalled how it was a phone call from his mother that changed his life and career, looked back on his long association with Barjatyas, and quipped how Salman has better movie sense than him. Read on... You had already done a few films in Bollywood before bagging a role in ‘Maine Pyar Kiya’.

By the time I got ‘Maine Pyar Kiya’, not only had I started my career but also ended it. I thought I was finished after six flops and decided to become a pilot. I was working on getting a commercial flying license as I wanted to get a job in the aviation sector.

Salman Khan and I bumped into each other quite randomly but became friends almost immediately. He was trying to get into the business of filmmaking back then. When ‘MPK’ came his way, he recommended my name for the villain’s role. He asked me if I'd be interested in doing the role, and I agreed.

It was tricky for me to do a villain’s role back then as I was a flop hero. But any inclination that I had to play a hero was over by then (laughs). So I took it on but had never expected that it would be a new lease of life for my career and make me viable even 30 years later. I don’t think even Salman had thought about it.

Did you have to audition for the role? Yes, when I agreed to do the role, Salman said, " Jaake audition kar le”. I was down and out in those days as six films featuring me as a hero had flopped; I'd had no work for two-and-half years. Besides, I was 24 and insecure as I didn't know where I was headed in life. You can’t just be a rich parents’ kid and live off their money. And it is not just about income, your self-worth also gets damaged badly in the process. I told my mom about my plans to take up the negative character and since she shared a warm relationship with the Barjatyas, she called Raj Babuji (late film producer Raj Kumar Barjatya) and told him about my plans. Interestingly, it was Soorajji (Barjatya) himself who took my audition and he gave me lines that would go on to achieve cult status: “ Ladka ladki kabhi dost nahi hote”. But after the test, Raj Babuji came up to me and said, “We'd like to cast you in this role, but aap Nutanji ke bete hain aur hum unko kya bolenge about casting you in a villain's role?” I assured them that I had her blessings, but he was still apprehensive. I went back and told my mother that I should be getting films because of her and not losing them! It was only years after my mother's demise, while shooting for ‘Hum Aapke Hai Koun..!’ (1994), that I learned from Raj Babuji that my mom had called and spoken to him about the incident.

What did Nutanji say to Raj Babuji? When we were shooting for ‘Hum Aapke Hai Koun..!’ at Mehboob Studios, Raj Babuji asked me if I recalled the time they were hesitant to sign me for ‘MPK’. I did because I had almost lost the film. He went on to relay how my mother had called him up to tell him to not punish her son for being her son. It hit me hard; it still does. A person like her, who has achieved so much and was such a wonderful soul, felt she was the cause of something that should have been positive. Raj Babuji promised to someday offer her son a leading role and that’s how 'Hum Aapke...' happened. He not only kept the promise in one film but also in ‘Hum Saath Saath Hain’ (1999).

Did you offer any tips to the newbies Salman and Bhagyashree? (Smiles) With my infinite knowledge of films--considering I had so much experience--I kept telling Salman, ' Kaise chalegi yeh picture? Kabootar ke point of view se flashback chal raha hai.Who is the hero of this film?' He shot back saying, 'I am.'

I told him he wasn't and he was perplexed. My explanation was simple: 'End mein villain ko kaun maarta hai? Kabootar! Kabootar hero hai. Isme hero hai hi nahi.' (chuckles) Now it seems like a joke but back then, I was, in my all earnestness, telling him, 'Buddy, this is not the way to go. We are not making a very good film.'

But honestly, Soorajji, Raj Babu ji, Salman, and Salim Khan uncle genuinely believed in the film. I guess that knowledge is what Salman converts into so many 100-crore plus films today.

Bhagyashree was very young back then and we hardly interacted. But when we meet up today, we often go down memory lane. And what do those trips down memory lane yield now that the film is considered a cult classic? I really didn’t think ‘MPK’ will end up achieving cult status. It was supposed to release in a regular 3-shows-a-day at Metro. A couple of weeks before its release we were told by Raj Babuji that Yash Chopra's Sridevi and Rishi Kapoor-starrer Chandni was doing good business after a long time and that Metro had requested them that they cancel their bookings and instead offered them the morning matinee show which was the 10 show. I felt vindicated and pointed out the Salman that the exhibitors were running away already. I was still not convinced about the kabootar's role.

Cut to the first day of release. Salman and I were sitting next to each other, watching the film with the audience when the song ‘Kabootar Jaa Jaa’ came on and there was a shower of coins. People were so happy they were throwing loose change at the screen. The sceptic in me still wondered if the people getting excited were planted by the producers.

But during the interval, word got out that we were watching the film in their midst and suddenly people crowded around us and lifted Salman up in the air.

When I didn’t recognise any of them did I realise they were not from the production team (laughs). They also started asking me for an autograph. That's when I realised that I was wrong and that people were actually liking the film. It was the first and the last time I tried gauging the commercial result of a film. But then again, when I was shooting for 'Vaastav' (1999) with Mahesh (Manjrekar), I expressed my doubts about the outcome of the film to him saying the hero is not a hero, he is a broken man. He assured me, 'That is the story, it's about a broken man.' And it went on to be a success. So, I guess I don’t have the knack of understanding whether a film will work at the box office or not. However, I liked ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’ (1998) – Karan Johar’s first film at its trial show. So, I still have hope that I can predict correctly (laughs).

How did your daughter Pranutan get ‘The Notebook’ (2019), her first film? Someone from the unit saw her photographs on Instagram and contacted her. She was also auditioning on her own at the time. It was only when Salman learned about her audition from director Nitin Kakkar, that people came to know that she is my daughter. Salman called and asked me if Pranutan wanted to be an actor and I said yes. So he said, 'You had it, man!'. That was his first reaction (laughs). Then he said, 'She has done an audition. Now it’s not in my hands. It’s in the hands of the director, he has to decide. But you are game, right? You are on for it, right? You are cool with it?” I said “Yes, I am cool with it.' Then, 18 days later, he called me to say that Pranutan is the lead in their next film.

Excerpts from interview

#salman khan #mpk #mohnish bahl #i got Mpk because of salman

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kitaychan · 4 years

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Equilibrium.

Human AU

Summary: Leon reminiscences about his life, his family, and how he managed to be at peace with it.

When I was a child my father used to tell me about the day he met my mother.

He said he was 23 years old, during one of his numerous travels, he is part of a well-known company that runs along the seven seas, bringing goods to every corner of the world.

He had met her due to a trip to Hong Kong, she was the daughter of a business contact in there, the man (my grandfather) had taken him and others to celebrate a dinner at his home in Beijing, father said he was flabbergasted by how beautiful she was.

He recalled making a fool of himself, trying to impress her. My mom would later say that he was so clumsy and nervous that night that she found him quite cute.

After that, my father tried to meet her, he was nagging at Mr. Wang with made up excuses just to talk with his daughter. Father said that mom was cold and harsh the first time they spoke. On the other hand my Mother expressed that he was corny and sweet, but she was afraid of infuriating her father. After all, she depended on her family, she was only 18.

The months passed and father became a constant visitor in the Wang's household. He would schedule more trips to China than necessary, only to keep in touch with mother. She later told me that he was convincing her of escaping with him.

My father, whose business was settled in England, planned to take mother with him without Mr. Wang's approval. The reason? My grandfather wasn't very keen of him, he didn't dislike father but he refused to give his blessing, saying she was too young for marriage.

The route was from Beijing to Hong Kong and then they would take a ship to England.

They managed to arrive in Hong Kong but the plan was ruined when Mr. Wang put a reward for his lost daughter. No ship would take them out of Hong Kong without turning them in.

They spent two years more in Hong Kong, in which I was conceived, father was neither getting his payments nor help from his brother's back in England.

When I was born, they lived in a small house in Hong Kong, it was possible thanks to my mother's decision of contacting her cousins, who seeing her pregnant, took pity and helped her. When talking about this, father was always bitter, he said the cousins were prideful and would always rub their money on his face, he was especially spiteful of the Korean one, saying he was always encouraging mother to abandon him.

Father never talked to me about the following three years of my birth, he only said that those years made him realize the kind of woman my mother was, and that those years were horrendous enough for him to take the hardest choice of his life.

He saved enough money to pay the ship to take him to England, prepared the luggage and one night decided to leave, he took me with him while mother was asleep.

In the ship he got the help of a woman called Marianne, father said he promised to pay her when they arrived in England, she would sing lullabies for me at night as well as read some stories I don't remember.

I don't remember much about that, I only recall vividly my life in England, surrounded by my uncles and cousins, I remember my father's wedding with Marianne and after that, the arrival of the twins.

I do remember dreaming about my mother, she was becoming a blurry image for me, it didn't help that my father refused to talk about her anymore. He would say that she had abandoned me, that if she really loved me she would have come with us, that she had started a new life and a new family, he said that as I was no longer important to mother, I didn't have to bother to think about her.

I remember feeling jealous at the twins, for they received more attention than I did. I remember my father teaching them how to read, while he just paid a tutor for me. I remember him playing with them in the front yard, while I had to play with the nanny when I was their age, as he was always working away.

I also remember the times he got drunk, they were a few but they still hold a great impact in me.

The first time he arrived at midnight, barely able to walk, he barged into my room and cried, he told me he was sad, that he missed my mother and she wouldn't get back ever again. That was before he married Marianne.

The second time, I had to retrieve him in the pub, while I was carrying him through the stairs, he told me he was proud of the young man I was becoming, he said he was glad I wasn't like him and before I could question him further he passed out.

The third time was inside the house, he had received mail and was cursing and tossing things in his office, Alfred asked me to check on him, arguing that father was less likely to get mad at me.

When I opened the door, father glared at me and told me that my mother was a cruel woman, that she had married a foreign soldier, a communist he said, he told me that she didn't care about me, that she had forgotten my existence and that I should be glad he had taken me with him. I only nodded, embracing him softly, perhaps that way he would calm down, he fell silent and burst into tears, he told me he was a liar and shoved a handful of opened letters into my hands.

After that incident, father became more cautious not only with the alcohol but around me. He started to give me presents: books, clothes, souvenirs from travels. He would often try to engage in conversation with me.

I didn't want to talk with him. Not after reading those letters, they were from my mother, the oldest were long and full of anguish, asking him why he had left, how could he took me away from her, she was pleading: for him to return, to take me back to her, she said she didn't care if he didn't love her anymore, if he was with another woman, she was telling him to come back, she offered to let him bring the other woman along, she only wanted to take care of her son, her baby.

The following letters were asking for me, some were threatening him, others were sad, she was desperate to know how I was doing, she would even update her address, asking father to let me write to her. She had returned to his father, begged for his help and he had received her again in the family, she was studying to be a nurse.

There were letters saying that she was in England, looking for me, that she had come all the way from China, that she had found the house but every time, the servants would not allow her to see me. She begged father to let her see me, to give her an answer, to tell her that I was still alive.

The last one had arrived that day, she was telling that she had married, that she was moving to Russia, as his husband was from there, she was saying that she'll keep on writing from there, and she even wrote down the new address she would be having.

Those letters were the proof that father had lied for 16 years, that my mother was out there looking for me, that she was suffering, that even though she had moved on from losing father, she had never stopped loving me.

After reading those letters I grew distant of my father, I told him that I would apply to a university in Moscow, he knew why I was doing it, and he tried to dissuade me, saying that it wasn't safe in there, that it would be hard for him to send me money, that I didn't knew the language. He was right.

I decided to do my studies in England, I started sending letters to my mother, she was happy to have news from me, she would send me a letter per month, asking for my subjects, for my life in England. In return, I would ask her about Russia, about her husband, about her life in China.

It was hard at the beginning, to write to her, someone I didn't remember the looks of, someone whose voice I had forgotten. We exchanged some photographs, she was excited, told me how handsome I was. I discovered that we had an astonishing resemblance, of course she had her feminine features but the resemblance was undeniable, I only shared my father's eyebrows, while I had the hair, the eyes like hers. I won't deny that I felt warm, all my life, I had felt different and seeing that there was someone who shared my features, whom was excited to read my happenings was heartwarming.

I tried not to be so harsh with my father, he had raised me after all, and he had tried to be a good father, so I still visited him on my summer breaks in England, I got a job at the university, translating some articles. I had decided to learn Chinese and Russian in order to communicate with my mother when I'd finally visit her.

During the time, it proved to be profitable, the intellectuals were interested in the new ways these countries had revised the Marxist theory, I wasn't enthusiastic of these ideologies but the college students were curious and would pay really well for a critical article.

After a year of saving my payments and some of the money father sent me, I was allowed to go on a short trip to China. It was easier to explain a family visit, not only for me but for my mother, we agreed to meet at my grandparents’ house.

Once there, my thoughts plagued me with fear and uneasiness, what if I wasn't welcomed, I was my father's son after all, wouldn't I be a nuisance? I was more of an outlaw in the Kirkland family, wouldn't I be the same in the Wang’s household? Would I be welcomed there? What about my mother’s husband? Wouldn’t he despise me? Mother would surely have another baby by now, perhaps she didn't told me that.

My fears were cleared up when the door was opened, I was embraced tightly by a man called Im Yong Soo, he said he was my cousin or something like that, he led me to the living room and the people there stared at me. I recognized mother, she looked exactly like in the pictures, I also figured out who her husband was, being the only blond in the room.

Mother stood up and hugged me tightly, she was so excited, she started crying, I wasn't sure of how to act, so, I just hugged her back.

When she calmed down, I was presented to the rest of them.

Mr. Wang was calm but he also embraced me, saying he was glad he got to meet his grandson.

A Japanese man shook my hand, he was the most reserved but his face betrayed his demeanor, when his eyes watered at the sight of me.

A young woman called Mei Xiao hugged me tightly and said she was happy to have someone around her age in the house.

I'm Yong Soo greeted me warmly, recalling the last time he saw me, I had to embarrassedly tell him, that I did not remember him. He laughed it off and said I had grown a lot.

When it was my mother's husband turn, I felt suddenly intimidated, the man was tall, taller than all of us, I wasn't sure of how to approach him. He smiled softly at me and shook my hand. "So you are the little one who makes her smile with letters" he said in a heavily accented English.

I nodded. "You must be Ivan." I tried to reply in Russian.

He smiled and surprisingly hugged me.

After that, I realized that my fears were irrational, that they were kind and loving people, that "the communist" my father had cursed about was actually a doctor, that the greedy and prideful cousins were funny and warm, that the resentful old man, was just a preoccupied father, and I also learned that they had a totally opposite picture of my father, as a treacherous, sneaky scoundrel who had dragged mother out (although mother said to me that she went with him willingly) and abandoned her, finding another woman and running away with her.

Mother would later told me, quite sadly, that the three years after my birth, the situation between them deteriorated so much, that there were days in which they would only argue. Father was frustrated about money but would also disappear for days, only to return without a penny. Mother tried to get some money by selling her belongings but it would only infuriate him more, and when he returned from his escapades, she felt so mad that she would try to make him feel miserable on purpose.

All this new information was astonishing for me, mother tries not to touch that subject so much, to this day she still avoids the topic, she says that they both are to blame for that, and that she doesn't want to strain my relationship with father.

After all this years, I still keep contact with both, I've settled in Hong Kong, sometimes the twins visit me, sometimes Mei Xiao comes here too. What is certain is that my life depends on the equilibrium of the families I am part of.

I've learned to forgive my father, slowly, we had tried to build a better relationship, he has told me little fragments of his version of things, the real one at least.

I've come to know more about my mother, bit by bit, she tells me about her life, her studies, how she met Ivan, how she adjusted to live in Russia.

And like that, I've managed to process everything, to understand, and most importantly to live with and to love the family I have.

#hetalia fanfiction #aph hong kong #hws england #hws nyo china #aph hetalia #Equilibrium

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quietest-rebellion · 5 years

Text

Christmas Party (Stefano/Reader)

I finally did something for Stefano for his birthday! (/ ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

This is set in a happy post-stem world where Stefano lived and the reader is friends with Sebastian. Of course in my mind this is the reader from His Last Masterpiece but I tried to make them as gender neutral as possible. Happy holidays!

Find it on AO3 here!

“Stefano, please.” You pleaded. “It's just going to be the five of us.” You had been arguing with him all morning. Apparently the man had some grudge against Christmas. Or at least the idea of a Christmas party. Honestly he was probably just against being in the same room as Sebastian for more than five minutes.

“I'm not going and this is final.” Stefano stood at your dining room table and continued to look through his most recent batch of photos spread out. You rolled your eyes. At least by this point in your relationship, you were proud to admit, you practically had the man wrapped around your finger. You wrapped your arms around his waist and laid your head against his back.

“Pleeaassee.” You begged again. “If you go, maybe I would be willing to give you your Christmas present a little early.” You moved his scarf slightly to the side to nip at his neck. He paused and looked up from his work, sighing.

“How long is this event again?” You smiled and pulled away from him to grab your coat and your gift for the exchange.

“It's only until five.” You explained as Stefano adjusted his scarf and put on his suit jacket. “Sebastian said he has plans to watch Polar Express with Lily after that.” Stefano nodded and grabbed his keys as the two of you walked out the door.

~*~*~*~

It was about a ten minute drive from your apartment to Sebastian's house, and you had planned on annoying Stefano with Christmas carols the entire way. Unfortunately his car only acknowledged his phone and he changed the lock on it again. The photographer played Tchaikovsky's entire Serenade for Strings in C major instead. Wow. You totally weren't tired of that one. He could have at least played something from the Nutcracker if he wanted to listen to Tchaikovsky.

Stefano pulled into the driveway of the large home and stopped the car. You could see that Juli was already here, which wasn't surprising considering how long you had argued with Stefano about your attendance. Stefano looked as though he might offer up another complaint but it seemed it had finally gotten into his head how stubborn you were. By the time he shut off the car you were already climbing out and Lily was running to meet you guys in the driveway. Sebastian chased after her with a coat and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Lily, how many times have I-” Sebastian scolded as you gave Lily a hug.

“Yes, Dad.” Lily sighed and put on her coat. Man, she was growing up so fast. She was already twelve, you could hardly believe it.

“If she freezes then maybe she'll learn.” Stefano suggested, getting out of the car. Lily rolled her eyes and Sebastian gave him as death glare. You laughed and grabbed your present out of the back. The four of you went into the house and you set your present on the coffee table by the others for the exchange. Sebastian took your coat and hung it up as Lily ran to the kitchen.

“Hey, Juli.” You greeted the brunette who sat on the couch half-watching whatever hallmark movie was on. Juli took another sip of her coffee, gave you a nod of her head and a small smile. Stefano and Juli just sort of glanced at each other as a form of acknowledgement. The two never really talked. When they did, it seemed to consist of Stefano bragging and Juli saying, “Yeah, I know.” Which annoyed him to no end, meaning she achieved her goal.

“Y/N, we were gonna make some Christmas cookies!” Lily told you, showing you a bowl of dough in the kitchen. You nudged Stefano. He gave you a questioning look.

“Come on,” you pulled him to the kitchen and forced him to actually take off his gloves.

“Stefano, making Christmas cookies?” Juli joked. Everyone except Stefano laughed.

“Well, baking is another form of art so I just figured-” You defended yourself.

“That doesn't mean he'll be any good at it.” Sebastian joked, giving Stefano a small smile. Stefano took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He was now determined to make the most beautiful damn Christmas cookies the world had ever seen.

And thus the competition began. Sebastian and Lily versus Stefano. (You offered to help but he wasn’t having it). The challenge was who could make the prettiest and best tasting cookies. You and Juli were the judges. While Lily was involved in the competition, she didn’t seem too worried about whether or not she’d win, she was just having fun and making them look however she wanted. Sebastian and Stefano on the other hand… The two glared at each other any chance they got, and you worried you may have to dock points soon for one of them trying to sabotage the other.

~*~*~*~

After covering the kitchen in sprinkles and icing, the competition had ended. Now was time for judging. Looking over Team Castellano’s cookies, they were adorable. Snowmen, christmas trees, gingerbread men, however their work was a little messy. 3 out of 5 from you, on appearance. Juli agreed. So, 6 out of 10 so far for Team Castellanos.

Moving on to look at Stefano’s, they were gorgeous. Presents, ornaments, snowflakes. Every bit of icing cleanly spread, every sprinkle placed exactly where it needed to be. Seeing as the man was a perfectionist, this came as no surprise. So, as much as Juli hated to admit it, Stefano got 5 out of 5 from her, obviously you gave the same. Team Valentini currently leading with 10 out of 10.

Stefano crossed his arms and smirked at Sebastian who was giving him a look cold enough you could swear you could see frost forming in his hair.

Time to taste test. Juli took a bite of a Castellanos cookie.

“Wow, it’s really sweet. It tastes like one you would get at a store. And it’s not too crumbly. 5 out of 5 from me.” She smiled. You tried one. Wow. It really was as good as she described, you felt like you had just spent a bunch of money to get this from a bakery. 10 out of 10 Team Castellanos. Now leading with 16 points.

You could see Stefano getting a little anxious as he adjusted his scarf and clenched and unclenched his hands in his gloves. You picked up one of his cookies to try and it broke. Not a great sign. Upon taking a bite you discovered that it tasted… alright. Not the best, not the worst. Juli tried one and gave them 2 out of 5. You gave them 3 out of 5. Meaning Team Valentini lost by one point. Oh no.

Stefano seemed to still be processing as Sebastian and Lily high fived and celebrated by having some of their cookies. Juli laughed and had another one of the Castellanos cookies. Stefano left the room and you followed.

“Hey...” You put your hand on his shoulder only to have it swatted away. After a second he took a deep breath and turned to look at you, he was obviously angry but he didn’t seem to know what to say. “Sorry, I should have given you an extra point so you’d at least be tie--” He held up a hand to silence you.

“I will not take a win that was not fairly earned.” The artist sighed, then smiled at you. “Come on, there is still a gift exchange to do.” You smiled back at him, surprised that he let it go so quickly. He’d probably bring it up again later.

“You know Sebastian is never gonna let you live this down.” You reminded him. Stefano chuckled.

“So I’ll beat him next year.” You smiled at thought of having a party like this every year.

The two of you walked into the living room and the rest of your group soon joined you. Stefano counted the presents.

“But there are only four gifts and there are five of us, how are we going to do a gift exchange?” He asked. You smiled at Sebastian who pulled something from behind his back and set it next to the gifts. It was a small cake, with a camera made out of icing on it and the words ‘Happy Birthday’ on it.

“Surprise!” You and Lily shouted in unison. Stefano looked bewildered at the cake in front of him.

“What is this..?” He asked.

“We knew your birthday was really close to Christmas, so I could trick you into thinking it was a Christmas party.” You replied.

“It was Y/N’s idea. I just agreed to host.” Sebastian explained, trying to keep up the ‘I really don’t like you’ appearance.

“I made him do it!” Lily joked. “Happy birthday, Uncle Stefano!”

“I was invited, and thought ‘Hey why not.’” Juli shrugged.

Stefano still seemed in shock. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a birthday party. Lily handed him a gift with a big bow on it.

“This one is from me, open it!” Stefano offered her a small smile and pulled the ribbon off. The wrapping paper fell away to reveal a painting she did of the two of them.

“It’s beautiful, topolina.” Stefano smiled and hugged her. She handed him another gift, a small box.

“This one’s from dad.” Stefano took it and opened it. It was a just a gift card, but it was for Stefano’s favorite coffee shop, so it was obvious he tried a little. The artist laughed a bit to himself at the thought of Sebastian trying to think of a gift for him.

“Thank you.” Stefano wouldn’t say his name, but he would thank him, since he was polite like that. Lily handed him another box. This one wasn’t wrapped the best.

“This is from Aunt Juli.” Stefano nodded and pulled off the paper, and opened the box. Inside was an intricate knife, similar to the one he had used in STEM. He picked it up to see what it felt like in his hand.

“Where did you get this?” He raised an eyebrow at Juli. She shrugged and smiled.

“I have my ways.” Sebastian gave her a look, but she didn’t seem concerned.

“This is the last one, I’m sure you can guess who it’s from.” Lily handed Stefano the gift bag that you had carried in with you when you had arrived. You couldn’t wait to see his reaction. He started to open it then paused.

“Should I be opening this in front of Lily?” He whispered to you, you hit him.

“Just open it.” You rolled your eyes, but he did as he was told and pulled out a photo album. He gave you a questioning look and you encouraged him to open it. The album was filled with pictures of the two of you, pictures that he had no idea you had taken. In the back was a note that read “I’m thinking we should do a location shoot.” Next to the note were two plane tickets for Italy, next week. Stefano calmly set the album down and Lily picked it up to look at what the note said. Stefano grabbed you and pulled you into a tight hug. You wondered if he might cry.

Sebastian cleared his throat to get your attention. Stefano pulled away a little.

“So, are we going to eat this cake?” Sebastian asked.

~*~*~*~

“Was it all that bad?” You asked as you climbed into your car after saying goodbye to Lily and Sebastian. Stefano seemed like he was going to roll his eyes, but he didn’t.

“I suppose not.” He replied, putting on his seat belt. “I can’t believe you managed to surprise me.”

“Well, that’s part of why I had Sebastian host it. You would have known if I suddenly bought a cake and stuff.”

“But you had the photo album at home the whole time!”

“Well that was easy, I just put it with my work papers. You never look at those.” You laughed.

When you arrived at home, Stefano’s first thought was to spend some time playing around with the knife he had gotten from Juli.

“Excuse me but, Mr. Valentini…” You turned Stefano to look at you and took the knife from his hands, beginning to spin it in your own. “I believe I still have to give you one more birthday present.” Stefano raised an eyebrow and smirked, and you pulled him down the hall by his scarf.

#stefano valentini #stefano valentini/reader #stefano valentini x reader #fans of hlm take this how you will #happy birthday husbo #martina writes #sebastian castellanos #lily castellanos #juli kidman

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years

Text

Destroying the Planet to Save It Chapter 1: Impure Thoughts

There’s a new threat to the world, and The Avengers join the new S.H.I.E.L.D. to find and fight it. Captain America, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Agent Phil Coulson, Sharon Carter, some OCs. Canon? What canon? After Civil War, but before any of the travesties of Infinity War or Endgame. Action, hopefully humor, smut, language your mama would slap clean out your mouth, fluff. IDK, I just watch the story develop as my fingers write it. I get surprised a lot.

_______________________________

“Seriously? This is what we’re doing now?” Sam Wilson growled. “We’ve saved the world how many times? And tonight they got us workin’ as what, bouncers? Security guards?”

Bucky Barnes looked around the massive hotel ballroom with a shrug. “Well, it is the President.”

“He got his own damned guards! Why are they not handlin’ their shit? Ain’t that what the taxpayers are paying them for?” Sam was hissing in Bucky’s ear, and in the ears of the rest of the Avengers team scattered throughout the huge, crowded room wearing comm devices that looked like those used by the Secret Service, but were fortunately not patched into their frequency.

Steve Rogers knew some of those Secret Service guys, and they were not only tough as hell but damn proud of what they did. Sam would be wise not to piss them off.

“That’s enough, Falcon,” he muttered from where he stood in a narrow hallway outside the ballroom, watching the President roll his eyes as his staff tried to prepare him for a speech he could give in his sleep. He’d already seen the guy stare down a woman who tried to get him to let her powder his nose. Steve thought he might kinda like this President. Not like the last douchebag.

In the ballroom, standing in front of the dais looking out at the crowd and trying not to attract attention, Bucky smirked at Sam. “I don’t know. It’s not so bad. It’s probably just terrorists. Won’t that be a nice break from, like, mad scientists and aliens and shit? Besides, c’mon. You know you’re havin’ impure thoughts about me in this tux.”

Sam gave him a quick sneer. “Dude, you need a new mirror.”

“Barnes,” Clint Barton’s voice came over the comms. “President Lattimore is fifteen seconds out from the East entrance.”

“Copy,” Bucky murmured. Now it was Sam’s turn to smirk.

“Fuck you,” Bucky growled at Sam as he began to walk – if big, sleek cats looking for trouble can be said to just “walk” - across to the large expanse of doors on the East side of the ballroom. All were locked except for the center doors, allowing the security teams to control access to the room and monitor the entrances of dignitaries. Bucky had drawn the short straw and been assigned to the former President from Alabama, a guy so grandiose with a manner so smarmy yet chill-inducing that Bucky could only hope he didn’t slip and call him Palpatine to his face.

There was a Secret Service agent in front of each of the eight doors on this side of the room. Bucky knew that there were also agents on the other side of each door. The center door was the only one with more than one guard, and Bucky knew that Natasha Romanoff was on the other side. She’d been assigned the very delicate task of making sure each and every person who went through that door – security guard, celebrity, Senator, foreign dignitary, or former American President – got searched, and searched well. Although Natasha didn’t agree, Bucky was pretty sure she’d drawn the really short straw.

At the door through which former President Lattimore would be entering, Bucky knew he’d be met by his counterpart, the Secret Service agent assigned to shadow former President Lattimore while he was in the ballroom. He looked at the series of tuxedoed men with serious expressions and fairly obvious earpieces standing stiffly at the door, wondering which one that would turn out to be.

As he took his place to one side of the door, he exchanged nods with the senior agent who’d been working with the Avengers to plan security for this event. The senior agent then turned his glance to a woman Bucky hadn’t even noticed, and the two greeted each other quietly. A ghost of a smile played across her lips as she took her place across from Bucky.

He tried his damnedest to have no expression on his face. This was his Secret Service counterpart? She looked tiny to him. She wasn’t – she was at least five-foot-six and was in no way a waif – but he’d been expecting someone… bigger. In his heart of hearts, he knew he’d been expecting a burly man, but he tried not to acknowledge that thought to himself, lest it show on his face. The last thing he wanted was another lecture from Natasha about his dinosaur tendencies.

“Joss Emerson,” she said in a voice that was surprisingly low and smooth.

“Bucky Barnes.”

She almost laughed. “Yeah. I know.”

OK, so there were actually lunchboxes with his face on them, but no matter how insanely well-known the Avengers had become, Bucky could never imagine just assuming that people knew who he was. He didn’t have time to feel awkward, though, because at that moment, a spotlight shone on the door and someone on the dais announced into the microphone that former President Lattimore was arriving. The door opened and the man ponced into the room to the recorded strains of some campaign song or another, Bucky didn’t know, all modern music sounded the same to him. Lattimore flashed his unnaturally white, uncle-who-hugs-too-long simper, waving as enthusiastically as if the scattered applause was a standing ovation. Bucky thought he seemed a little disappointed in its volume, and he was undeniably unhappy when the spotlight turned off seconds after he entered.

Fortunately for his ego, Lattimore was immediately greeted by a number of people who seemed thrilled to be seen with him. Already Bucky was fighting the urge to place himself between his objective and the group of fawning, salivating morons draping themselves over him as one of the many photographers wandering the ballroom captured the moment. He glanced over at Agent Emerson, who didn’t seem even a little bothered. She clearly knew who these people were. Her eyes were everywhere else. Bucky sighed. It was gonna be a long night.

*****

None of the Avengers wanted to be here. Only a few even believed there was a credible threat. The problem was, those who did believe there was a credible threat – Steve, Bruce Banner, and Tony Stark – outweighed the rest of the team. They’d been among the ones called to Washington, D.C. to a very secret meeting with the President and several members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Phil Coulson, Director of the new S.H.I.E.L.D. had been there, as well, and they’d all been convinced by what they’d seen.

Something was going on. Strange energy signatures had been detected in various places around the Earth, and in each of those places, cataclysmic events had occurred. The events seemed to be natural phenomena – earthquakes, hurricanes, massive wildfires – but it was far too much of a coincidence.

And then there was this guy Arias. Jarman Arias, mouthy Colombian dickweed with enough money to make even Tony Stark raise an eyebrow. Coulson and S.H.I.E.L.D. had found what could be interpreted as his fingerprints on several of the incidents. Faint and plausibly deniable, but there.

After that meeting, when S.H.I.E.L.D. had agreed to investigate the incidents and Steve had agreed that the Avengers would take this assignment, the Avengers team had been working with the Secret Service to prepare for this night. It was a great opportunity for S.H.I.E.L.D. to observe Arias, but that wasn’t the Avengers’ mission. Their mission was to make sure that having Arias in the same room with the President, the former President, and a whole lot of other powerful notables didn’t turn out to be a Very. Bad. Idea.

*****

Sam was assigned to Arias, who arrived a few minutes after President Lattimore. He, too, had a counterpart, but she wasn’t Secret Service, she was S.H.I.E.L.D. He’d met her before, and admired her sleek, Latina looks, but something about the way she seemed to look right through him had made him hesitant to make a move. Tonight seemed like a good opportunity, and he liked what he was seeing so far.

Arias had his own security team, known to be very lethal and not overly concerned about legality or collateral damage. He didn’t want or need more security, and he definitely objected to having people he didn’t know close to him. But Anita Herrera was good.

“Señor Arias, no one’s questioning your security team,” she assured him in musical Spanish. She actually didn’t have a Colombian accent – she was Cuban – but anyone listening to her right now would swear she was born and raised in Bogotá. “But the President has asked that we take special care of you. This event is important to him, so important that he’s actually asked The Avengers to provide security for his most important guests, although we’re keeping that quiet. You won’t mind being seen to be guarded by the Falcon himself, will you?”

Sam wanted to punch the guy in the throat merely for getting to be the target of Herrera’s smile. Damn. She was something.

And Arias, like many a man before him, made his ego-driven decision with the other head. “Of course, Agent Herrera. When you put it that way.”

Sam tried his best to give Agent Herrera a very professional, not at all aroused, nod of the head. It mostly worked. But when she gave him a taste of that smile, Sam suddenly got very interested in the logistics of getting Arias into the ballroom and where he would be seated, because there was only so much room in the slacks of his expertly-tailored tuxedo.

*****

At that moment, Bucky was listening to former President Lattimore (whom he knew for a fact had been called Voldemort by his Secret Service detail behind his back) making inappropriate comments to Agent Emerson.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Joss, and you’re looking just as lovely as ever. I’ll never know where you hide firearms under those dresses.” Bucky flicked a glance at Lattimore just in time to see the lecherous gleam in his eye as he gave Emerson a very thorough once-over.

Her voice was professional as she responded, “Not your problem, Sir. As long as I know where they are.”

In fact, Bucky did know where Emerson hid at least one firearm under her dress, and he’d counted three knives so far. Five, if you counted the heels on her shoes, which he’d bet his new SOG tac knife were not standard issue. Bucky knew fuck-all about women’s dresses, but he knew what he liked. Her black dress had long sleeves (two knives) and fitted the upper part of her body very nicely (third knife between her breasts, but it wasn’t like he’d been looking). Bucky really appreciated the way the soft material clung to her, even as he appreciated that it was stretchy enough to let her move however she needed to. The skirt had a slit up to there, which would allow her to run even though the dress was long enough to touch the floor. It didn’t flash the entire length of her right leg quite often enough for his taste, but did give him a pretty good idea where he’d find her gun. And the dress had cutouts on either side of her waist, which gave him a tantalizing view of a body built for more than looks. The cutouts also gave him a clue where he might find a few more weapons. You know, if he went looking.

“I don’t know how a girl like you decides to be a Secret Service agent, but I suppose I shouldn’t question my good fortune.” Lattimore leaned toward Emerson, who was only looking at him every few seconds, scanning the room the rest of the time. His voice got even oilier as he murmured, “You know, my offer still stands. I still have a little pull around here.” His self-deprecating laugh didn’t fool Bucky for a second.

“Thank you, Sir. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

“The First Lady isn’t the jealous type, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No, Sir. Mrs. Lattimore is a lovely woman.”

“So are you, Joss. I’d love to have you on my personal detail.”

Was that a little bit of drool Bucky caught on the edge of Lattimore’s lips? What a tool. Bucky may have been born in 1917, but even he knew that modern women didn’t have to put up with this shit. He wondered why Emerson did. Especially when, the more Bucky studied her without meaning to, it was obvious she was a pro at what she did. Her wary, tensed body language didn’t change – she was coiled and ready for trouble, if it came – even as this ancient, slimy dillrod talked to her like she was just another sycophant and not a highly-trained professional there to protect his randy old goat ass.

An overdressed couple approached the former President then and engaged him in a round of overheated reciprocal compliments. Bucky stopped listening to the mutual masturbation and took a sideways step toward Agent Emerson, all the while keeping his eyes and his full awareness on everything happening in the room.

“Why do I feel like I should apologize for that asshole?” He muttered out the side of his mouth, his voice pitched so only she could hear.

“Don’t worry about it,” she muttered back.

“He always like that?”

“Pretty much. He made that gun comment every day for four years.”

“Huh. Not very observant, then.”

“Not his job.” Then, from the corner of his eye, Bucky saw her give a little delayed shake. “Wait. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’.”

“Uh-huh. You realize if you tell me you know where my guns are, that’s just the other side of the same coin.”

Bucky hadn’t realized that, but he did now. Bucky Barnes hadn’t blushed since 1943, and he didn’t at that moment, but he was embarrassed. Which meant he immediately started to talk too much. “No. My admiration is purely professional. I – Wait, guns? As in, more than one?”

She didn’t answer, just smirked. For a while, they stood behind and to either side of the former President, just observing.

He tried. He really did. But Bucky couldn’t help himself. “How many?”

He caught the little twist of her lips at that. “Kind of a personal question, isn’t it?”

“I’ll tell if you do.”

“You don’t have to tell me how many guns you’re packing, Barnes. Five. And at least four knives, although it’s probably more.”

“You’re right. Five guns. Seven knives. Your turn.”

She huffed a tiny sigh, but he could tell it was for show. “On me? Two guns. A few others around the room.”

Bucky couldn’t hide his smile. He liked girls. He really liked guns. And he really, really liked girls with guns.

“And knives?”

“Five on me. Lots more stashed.”

Through Bucky’s earpiece, he heard Clint Barton’s voice again. “OK, if Barnes can keep it in his pants long enough, the President’s arriving in five. They’re gonna seat everyone.”

Bucky had actually forgotten that every word he said was being broadcast to the rest of his team. Oops. Still, it was nowhere close to the first time one of them had said something on the comms that the rest of the team didn’t need to hear. It wasn’t even uncommon for one of them to be overheard flirting. And Sam once got… well, Bucky needed to focus.

He saw in the slight flinch Agent Emerson gave that she was getting the same message in her earpiece. She stepped up to President Lattimore and quietly interrupted his gladhanding to let him know it was time to be seated.

As they followed him to his table, Bucky and Agent Emerson found themselves walking next to one another.

“I thought I was gonna hate this assignment,” Bucky whispered to her. “But I’m kinda digging the whole James Bond thing.”

“Yeah, you’re so not James Bond.”

“I’m literally wearing a tuxedo!”

“Call me when you’re British,” she mumbled and stepped to the other side of Lattimore as he seated himself at his prominently-situated table. When he was settled, with Emerson seated next to him on his right, Bucky stood behind them until everyone else was seated, then stalked to stand at the side of the room, relieved that the uncontrolled, social part of the event was over.

*****

Now it was Steve’s turn. He and Tony Stark were both simply too well-known to even try to blend in with the Secret Service. So, in his role as one of the President’s honored guests, he was wearing a suit that cost as much as the apartment building he’d grown up in, feeling much more naked than he did in his extremely form-fitting Captain America suit. He knew exactly where his shield was, but it wasn’t on his back or his arm, and without it he felt woefully unarmed even though he was, in fact, carrying several weapons. He fidgeted through the last half-minute before he and the rest of the President’s entourage would make their way to the East doors of the ballroom where the President would make his entrance.

Tony was already seated at the President’s table with Pepper. Sharon Carter, as Steve’s date, was on his other side. Tony was in his element. In fact, he’d already made a billion-dollar handshake deal with one of the Joint Chiefs before he’d finished his first drink. But his cool was deceptive. He used his always-manic energy to camouflage a wired vigilance that missed nothing. Sharon, too, was all eyes and ears and taut alertness.

The lights dimmed. “Ruffles and Flourishes” started to pour out from the sound system and Tony knew that Clint was, at that moment, climbing through the ceiling to his well-stocked sniper’s nest over the dais, hidden by what looked like any other set of stage curtains but were, in fact, made of a fabric as bulletproof as fabric could be and manufactured by Stark Industries.

The spotlight shone on the door, which opened just as the sound system began to play “Hail To The Chief.” Not one of the Avengers was looking at the President as he entered with the First Lady, waving and smiling to the clapping crowd. They were watching everyone else look at the President.

“Fuck’s sake, Steve,” Sam’s voice came over the comms. “Smile. You’re supposed to be having a good time. You look like your underwear’s too tight.”

The quiet chuckles of the rest of the team filtered through their earpieces, while Steve’s expression became even more sour and his face flushed a bright shade of crimson that wasn’t entirely washed out by the spotlight that followed the President to his table.

Once he sat down next to Sharon, Steve couldn’t help but feel beneath the tablecloth to make sure his shield was right where it was supposed to be, secured to the underside of the table in a quick-release frame.

“You all right?” Sharon asked quietly.

“I hate this,” Steve hissed through a fake smile that looked more like he was trying to hold in a fart.

Once the President was seated, a comedian walked out onto the dais and began a monologue filled with references to current culture that, apparently, everyone but Steve and Bucky found hilarious. They could all hear muffled laughs through the comms. Tony’s laughter was the most prevalent, because he was basically watching two shows. He found Steve’s obvious unfamiliarity with them funnier than the references themselves.

“Eyes on the ball, Ironman,” Steve grunted at one point, not enjoying this moment any more than he was enjoying the rest of the night. Tony just laughed louder.

*****

The President never got to make his speech. Bruce Banner, monitoring a Times Square worth of screens and flashing readouts in a much smaller conference room on the same floor as the ballroom, saw the spike immediately. It was the same strange energy signature that they’d been seeing around the world, which had preceded a “natural” disaster each time.

“Alert, alert, alert,” Bruce’s strangely emotionless voice came through their comms. “I got a spike. Repeat, I’m seeing a spike. Get ‘em out.”

The comedian actually made one more joke before he noticed the quiet but fiercely determined way the cadre of athletic individuals dressed in black who had been lining the walls began to make their way to those they were assigned to protect.

Steve pulled his shield from its holder and held the President between it and himself as he, Tony, and a fleet of Secret Service agents carried him out on a wave of dark clothing and suddenly visible firepower.

Bucky had President Lattimore out of his chair before Agent Emerson had even finished freeing her MP5 from the underside of the table. Sandwiched between Emerson in front and Bucky in back, and surrounded by members of his usual Secret Service detail, Lattimore squawked and whined the whole way to the East Entrance.

Sam wasn’t as surprised as he might have been to find that Arias refused to leave the ballroom.

“I am not a politician, and I am not a coward. I’ll stay right here and finish this excellent brandy,” Arias purred.

“Sir, for your own safety, I really must insist-“

“Sit down, Mr. Wilson. Whatever’s going on, I can assure you we are not its targets.”

“Yeah, well, if it’s a bomb, that’s gonna be surprisingly non-comforting,” Sam growled. “I mean it. Get up now. I’m not asking.”

Jarman Arias was not used to being spoken to in any tone that wasn’t at least impressed, and usually closer to awe tinged with fear. He was definitely not used to Sam’s Master Sergeant Wilson voice. Like everyone else, his first instinct was to obey.

The Secret Service may have been exchanging confused and chaotic chatter, but there was no chatter at all on the Avengers’ comms. They all knew where they needed to go.

Steve wasn’t very comfortable with the idea of the team of decoys who met them in the hotel’s kitchens and made a noisy show of hustling some random dude out of the hotel and into the President’s limousine. But he let it go as he led the real President down a cluttered hallway with a tiled floor to a stairway that led to a delivery entrance. Natasha and Clint met them at the bottom of the stairs wearing beige coveralls bearing the logo of a large commercial food distributor on the back. They silently handed coveralls to the President and each of the team, and the entire group quickly zipped them on. When they were done, half of them – including the President - also slipped baseball hats on and they sauntered out the door across a ten-foot expanse of concrete into the back of a large panel truck.

Inside the truck, they met Bucky and his team with the former President, who was red-faced but had stopped complaining as Agent Emerson sweet-talked him. Steve could tell with a glance that Bucky hated the guy even more now than he had when he’d learned that’s who he was assigned to protect. He grinned at Bucky and got an annoyed eyeroll in response.

Clint pulled the rolling door closed on the panel truck and dim red lighting illuminated the cargo area as they all grabbed on to handholds along the walls.

“AK is secure,” Steve said as the truck began to move. “Leaving the hotel now.”

“Roger, Cap. See you in a few.” Phil Coulson sounded as though he was sitting in a lounge chair with a Mai Tai rather than directing a major op from a couple hundred miles away.

*****

Jarman Arias recovered fairly quickly from the Master Sergeant Wilson treatment, and was fairly put out by being rushed to his limo. Sam didn’t give a fuck. He was moving, and that was all that mattered.

Unlike the rest of the team, Sam and Agent Herrera didn’t know where they were going. Part of their mission was to see how Arias would react if, in fact, the mysterious energy was detected around this event. If it turned out that Arias was linked to the energy and the events that seemed to follow, his reactions could be very telling. Still, Sam had a role to play. If he was just another bodyguard – a vastly overqualified bodyguard who was way too fucking pretty to be someone’s flunky, he thought to himself – he would have tried to get his principal out of the area of danger. So that’s what he had to do.

But Arias wasn’t happy about it. In fact, if Sam had to guess, he’d say that what he was seeing was fear. But it wasn’t from whatever the threat at the massive hotel had been. Arias had been perfectly happy to chill in the ballroom while the rest of the crowd screamed and yelled, tipping over chairs and smashing glassware in their hurry to get out once the dignitaries started being evacuated.

“Just where do you suggest we go?” Arias growled in his accented English as his limo squealed away from the curb.

“I don’t care, man, just away from here.”

“Why? What is the threat?”

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted, having difficulty trying to straighten his tux, squeezed as he was between two of Arias’s goons in the backward-facing seat across from Arias, Herrera and two more goons. “I get the signal to fuck off, I fuck off. And since I’m responsible for your safety, you fuck off with me.”

“Fine.” Arias picked up a phone receiver that was set in the rear window console behind him. “Alejandro, Site B, please. Quickly,” he said in Spanish, then hung up the phone.

Agent Herrera blinked. In English for Sam’s benefit, she asked, “What’s Site B?”

Suddenly, Sam’s face went slack and he uttered a soft, drawn out, “Fuck me.”

Agent Herrera must have been getting the same message in her earpiece from the Secret Service that Sam had just received from Natasha.

“How is that even possible?” Sam shrieked.

“Don’t ask me,” Natasha’s voice came to his ear. “I’m just telling you what Clint’s telling me he sees. The biggest motherfucking tornado he’s ever heard of. And Clint’s from Iowa.”

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

Hey, you guys, please let me know you’ve been by if you read this. I have kind of an optimistic plan for this story and it helps me feel inspired if I know someone besides me is reading it! :)

#Captain America #The Avengers #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson #Clint Barton #Tony Stark #Natasha Romanoff #Bruce Banner #Agent Phil Coulson #Sharon Carter

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burgers-and-french-fries · 5 years

Text

Sunsets & Whiskey Kisses: Chapter Thirty Four.

Note: The vows that are used in this chapter were also used for Jack and Ryleigh’s wedding. The reason I reused them is because I could find anything that fit Chase and Dakota like I wanted.

The day of the wedding came and all the women were getting ready in one room while all the men were getting ready in another one. Dakota was stressing out and all that Ryleigh could do was laugh which pissed the bride off even more. "Dakota, you have got to calm down. There is nothing to worry about." Ryleigh said as she braided the bride's hair. Dakota groaned and rolled her eyes. "Come on now. It's time to put the dress on." Ryleigh said and Dakota stood up and followed Ryleigh to where the dress was. Ryleigh helped Dakota put the dress on and when everything was secured the way it should be, the women walked out. "Dakota, you look just like your mother." Both sets of her grandmothers said in unison. Just before Grace could say anything, there was a knock on the door. "It's probably Jack." Ryleigh said as she answered the door. "Are you ready? Chase is chomping at the bit to see her in her dress. " Jack whispered and Ryleigh furrowed her brow. "What are you up to?" She asked suspiciously. Jack smiled. "Step out of the room for a second." He instructed and Ryleigh did. When her eyes landed on him, she burst out laughing. "Oh my god. What are you doing?" She asked once she had calmed down a little. "I may have packed one of your dresses. I found a few videos on YouTube regarding this prank and I figured it would give everyone a good laugh. Will you help me pull it off?" He asked and Ryleigh started laughing again. "Sure but you have to tell Dakota first." Ryleigh said and Jack smiled cheekily at her. "I asked her already and she was all for it. I even asked her what dress to pack." He explained and she kissed him. "You're a real doofus you know." She said and he nodded. "Get everyone downstairs?" He asked and she agreed. "Do you want to see your sister first?" Ryleigh asked and he shook his head. "We agreed that after this, I'd race back to our room and change and then I'd see her just before we walk down the aisle." He explained and she nodded.

"Ryleigh, who is it?" Grace called. "It was Jack, he was just letting me know that it's almost time for Dakota to show Chase the dress." Ryleigh called back as she winked at her husband. "Love you." She whispered. He walked away and Ryleigh walked back into the room. "Let's go." Grace said and all the women walked to where they were told. Dakota waited where her and Jack had discussed. She could see him but he couldn't see her.

Chase stood with his back turned to everyone and when Jack walked toward Chase, everyone tried to hold their laughter. Good old Jack. Ryleigh had to gently hold her hand over Anna's mouth so she wouldn't give it away and Carol had to do the same for Joshua who started giggling when he saw his uncle in a dress.

(The dress that Jack is wearing.)

"You ready Chase?" The photographer asked and he nodded as he tried to keep his nerves at bay. The photographer smiled and tried to keep himself from laughing. Chase felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. Chase doubled over laughing when his eyes landed on his friend and soon to be brother-in-law. "Oh god, you look ridiculous." Chase wheezed. Jack was doubled over laughing as well. "Please tell me that it's not Dakota's dress you're wearing." He said once he caught his breath. "No it's one of Ryleigh's." Jack replied as he hugged his friend. "I couldn't help it." Jack said as he and chase laughed again and everyone else could be heard laughing as well. Chase turned to face them and Joshua waved excitedly. Both men waving back. "I'll leave you to see her for real this time." Jack said and Chase hugged him again. "Thanks for letting me marry her." Chase said as they pulled away from the hug. "I trust you mate." Jack replied as he walked away.

youtube

(This was my inspiration for the prank.)

Jack walked back toward Ryleigh and Anna. Anna furrowed her brow when she saw her father but Ryleigh burst out laughing again. "You're such a dork." She said as she kissed him. "I may be a dork but do I look pretty?" He asked while batting his eyelashes. Anna shook her head and the parents laughed. "Come on. You have to change." Ryleigh said as her and Anna followed him. Ryleigh helped him change and when the dress was back in his suitcase, Ryleigh smiled. "Much better." She said as she kissed him lovingly. "You ready to see your sister now?" The woman asked as they pulled apart and he shook his head. "No, but I have no choice do I?" Jack said as his voice cracked. "She's beautiful. Your parents would be proud of both of you. I know the three of us are." Ryleigh said as she placed her free hand on her slight baby bump. Jack smiled. "Let's do this." He said and they hurried to where the bride and groom were tying the knot. Ryleigh and Anna went their separate ways and Jack walked over to his sister. "Look at you." He said as his eyes took her in. "How do I look?" She wondered and he smiled brightly. "You look just like mom. So beautiful." He replied and she hugged him. "Thank you for pulling through and doing this with me." Dakota mumbled into him. "No need to thank me Kola pop." He said and she smiled up at him. "You ready?" He asked and she shrugged. "Not really but I guess I have no choice do I?" She said and he chuckled. "I'm right here." He replied and she nodded. Both of them walking hand in hand toward Grace, Anna and Ryleigh. "You've got this my darling girl." Grace said as she saw the nerves in Dakota's eyes. She hugged the woman and they all got in order. Ryleigh first and Joshua first, Grace and Anna next and then The Bride and her brother.

When Jack and Dakota reached the alter, Jack chocked back a sob. "I love you Kola Pop." He whispered as he placed his sisters hand in Chase's. "Take care of her." He said one last time before he walked over to where the best man stood as that was his other role. The pride that Ryleigh felt when she saw her husband give his sister away was remarkable. Her heart exploded and she had to smile to herself.

The officiant motioned for everyone to sit down. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's greatest moments, and to cherish the words which shall unite Dakota and Chase." The officiant started. "Marriage is the promise between two people who love each other, and who trust in that love, who honour each other as individuals, and who chose to spend the rest of their lives together." The officiant continued. Chase and Dakota beamed at each other in happiness. "This ceremony will not create a relationship that does not already exist between you. It is a symbol of how far you've come. It is a symbol of the promises you will make to each other to continue growing stronger as individuals and as partners. No matter what challenges you face, you now face them together, and no matter how much you succeed, you now succeed together. The love between you joins you now as one." The officiant said as everyone listened. "Dakota and Chase, please join hands, look at one another now and remember this moment in time." The officiant concluded.

The officiant turned his attention to the Scotsman. "Chase, do you take Dakota to be your wife?" The older man asked and Chase nodded. "I do." He said and the officiant then turned his attention to Dakota. "Dakota, do you take Chase to be your husband?" The man asked again. Dakota smiled. "I do." She replied cheerfully.

"Dakota, Please take Chase's hand and repeat after me." The old man spoke and Dakota did as she was told. "Chase, I take you as you are, loving who you are. I promise from this day forward to be grateful for our love and our life. To be generous with my time, my energy and my affection. To be patient with you and with myself. To fill our life with adventure and our home with laughter. To encourage you to grow as an individual and to love you completely. This I pledge to you." Dakota declared. Chase repeated all that Dakota had said and smiled with pride.

"Please present the rings." The officiant spoke. Jack and Ryleigh helped Joshua and Carol hand Chase and Dakota the rings and the officiant spoke again. "Your wedding ring is a symbol of your promise to one another. The ring, an unbroken. never-ending circle, is a symbol of committed, unending love." The man spoke with authority. "Chase, as you place this ring on Ryleigh's finger, repeat these words after me." The man spoke again. "This ring symbolizes my love for you and the commitments we made today." Chase said as he placed the ring on Dakota's finger. Dakota repeated the same words and placed the ring on Chase's left finger.

"Chase and Dakota, you have come here today of your own free will and in the presence of family and friends, have declared your love and commitment to each other. You have given and received a ring as a symbol of your promises. By the power of your love and commitment to each other, and by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." The officiant said as he looked at the newly weds. "Chase, you may now finally kiss your bride." The man said and Chase placed his lips on Dakota's softly. "Congratulations. Friends and family, I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson." The officiant finished.

Dakota took Joshua from Carol and together, Chase, Dakota and Joshua walked back up the aisle. "I love you so much my beautiful bride." Chase said as he kissed Dakota again. Joshua giggled. The parents pulled apart and each kissed one of Joshua's cheeks. "We love you little man." Chase said and the little boy nodded with a huge smile on his face. "Yay." Joshua said when he saw his uncle. "You can see uncle Jack in a little bit but right now we are going to go and spend time with each other." Dakota explained and Joshua got upset. His smile fell and his chin wobbled. "Ok." He said sadly. Chase looked at Dakota and she rolled her eyes. "If we let him go with uncle Jack and ant Ryleigh, we can have some alone time." Chase said and Dakota sighed. She really wanted to spend time with both her boys. "But I want to spend time with both of my boys." She said and Chase nodded and Joshua gave her his best puppy eyes. "Come on my boy. Let's go spend time with mommy." Chase said as the family walked to where Chase and Dakota would be staying for the next two weeks for their honeymoon.

"I'm very proud of you for doing that baby. I know it was hard for you." Ryleigh said as she kissed Jack's cheek. He nodded and smiled. "It's going to be even harder when I have to walk this one down the aisle." Jack said as he ran his fingers through Anna's growing hair. "This one too if it's a girl." Ryleigh said as she rubbed her belly. "Can we let this baby's gender be surprise as well? It was kind of fun doing it that way last time." Jack asked and Ryleigh smiled. "I'd like that." She replied happily. The three of them heading to where the reception was being held.

"Dad-dad-dad-dad-dad-da-da-dada." Anna babbled in contentment, making Jack smile. "Can you see mama?" He asked as they watched Richard and Ryleigh talk to one another. Anna pointed and Jack smiled even wider. "Good job sweet pea." He praised as the music played through the speakers in the room. Anna's eyes occasionally drifting around the room to take all the colours and atmosphere in. "I think mama's coming over here." Jack said as he saw his wife walking back over to where he and Anna sat. Anna didn't seem to really care as she rubbed at her eyes and continued to look around the room. "I think she's more interested in what's happening around her, she doesn't care about me." Ryleigh said as she sat beside Jack. He nodded and chuckled a little. Soon enough, the bride, the groom and their son joined everyone else. "Yay." Joshua screamed in excitement when the uncle walked toward their table. "Do you want me to take him and the two of you can dance or eat or whatever?" Jack asked and Dakota smiled. "That sounds really good because I'm starving." Dakota said and Jack picked up his nephew who cuddled right into him. Chase smiled and watched as Jack walked back to Ryleigh and Anna.

Ryleigh smiled at her husband. "Maybe we should try for a boy." Ryleigh teased and Jack winked at her. "An." Joshua said, referring to Anna. The little boy had recently changed from calling his cousin nana to calling her An. Anna looked at him quickly and went back to looking around the room. "Shall I go and grab some food? I think I saw Chicken nuggets up there or hot dogs." Ryleigh eased as she winked at her husband. Jack blushed as he remembered back to when they saw each other after all those years at the rodeo grounds. "I think I'll have a hot dog and really test your limits." Ryleigh teased and Jack rolled his eyes. "No." Joshua said as he pointed at Jack and looked at him seriously. "What?" Jack asked in reply. "Eyes." Joshua said and Jack smiled and kissed the boy. Ryleigh walked off for the food and Jack sat down with the kids. "How are you pretty girl?" Richard asked Anna as he sat down with his grandson and great grand kids. Anna sighed, making Jack chuckle. "I think she's tired grandpa." jack answered and Richard smiled as he ran his index finger down Anna's cheek softly. "Both of the kids look so much like your parents. Your mother specifically." Richard said softly as he remembered his late daughter. "You think so?" Jack asked as he too looked at the kids. "You and your sister look more like your mother." Richard said and Jack smiled. "Is it ok if I take this little lady for a spin around the room?" The elderly man asked and Jack nodded. "Sounds good grandpa. Have fun." He said as he watched his daughter being whisked away.

Ryleigh and Dakota went to go and sit with Jack and Joshua. Ryleigh sat next to her husband and rubbed his back. "Where's Annie?" Dakota asked as she sat down next to the empty high chair on the other side of Jack. "Grandpa's dancing with her." Jack said and Ryleigh passed him a plate of food, complete with a hot dog for Anna and chicken nuggets for the little boy on his lap. "Oh come on Ryleigh, that's not funny." Jack whined when he saw the hot dog. "That's actually for Anna." She said genuinely looking sorry. Jack just glared at her. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see if she would eat the meat." She explained and Dakota nudged him when he kept glaring at his wife. "Get over it." Dakota said and Jack looked at her. "Why don't you take this little man for a dance" Jack said as he quickly passed the boy to his mother. It was then that Dakota realized the problem. She burst out laughing and Joshua looked at the adults with confusion. "It's ok honey. You come and dance with me. You can go back to uncle Jack and aunt Ryleigh after." Dakota said as she walked to the dance floor.

"What's wrong with you? I said I was sorry." Ryleigh said and Jack looked at her and smirked. "What?" She asked as Jack reached for her hand and placed it over his erection. "You and those damn hot dogs. I can't not get aroused when I see them. Makes me think of when I saw you at the rodeo grounds." He whispered in her ear. Ryleigh burst out laughing. "I'm sorry baby but I was being serous when I said that it was for Anna." Ryleigh said with a tone of regret. "It's ok but, just so you know, your hand isn't moving from this spot." He said as a small moan fell from his lips. "Just go to the bathroom and take care of it. It's right over there." Ryleigh said as she pointed it out. Jack whined. "It's so far." He said and Ryleigh rolled her eyes. "You better hurry up and go because your grandfather is coming this way." Ryleigh said and Jack hurriedly left for the bathroom to take care of himself. "Mama." Anna said as she reached for Ryleigh. "Hello pretty girl. Did you have fun with grandpa?" Ryleigh asked as she kissed the girl's cheek and held her close.

Some time had past and it was time for the Bride and groom to share their first dance. The couple walked hand in hand to the dance floor and everyone watched them. The music started and Chase sway them to their song. The song reminded him of the first time that he saw Dakota. Of course he had heard her name before but had never seen her before and when he did, he fell hard for her. He knew right away that he wanted to marry her. She was his forever and he vowed to spend the rest of his life protecting her and making sure she was happy and loved. When Joshua was born, his heart exploded with love even more so and he felt complete. This was what he was made for. Being a husband and father.

Joshua watched his parents with a huge smile on his face. He saw the way his father kissed his mother and saw the way he held her close. Although he was only little, somewhere in his brain, it was etched that this is how a woman was meant to be treated. The little boy giggled when he saw his father spin his mother around, making her dress move as gracefully as they did. it was magic to him.

Just before the song ended, Chase quickly went over to his son and took him from Ryleigh. The father walked back to his wife and together the three of them danced. Joshua happily between his parents as they exchanged loving glances and giving their son the occasional kiss on the cheek or his forehead. He was definitely Chase and Dakota's greatest joy.

Once the song was over, people went back to the dance floor. "Jack can I steal your wife for a few minutes?" Chase asked and Jack nodded as he adjusted Anna in his arms. "Thanks mate." He said and he and Ryleigh walked off. "You sure you're ok to do this?" Chase asked Ryleigh as he handed her a guitar. "Of course I am. Those two aren't going to know what's hit them. Now get out there and speak." Ryleigh said as she hugged the man. "Thank you for everything Ryleigh." He whispered as he broke the hug. She nodded and Chase walked back into the room. He walked over to Dakota and Jack. "I think you two have somewhere you need to be." He said and the siblings looked at each other. "No we don't." Jack said as Anna tried to shove a piece of nugget into his mouth. Chase smiled and pointed to where Ryleigh was. They looked over and saw Ryleigh walking into the room. "What is she doing?" Dakota asked and Jack shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine." He said as Ryleigh sat down on a chair that was provided for her.

"If I could have everyone's attention, I'd like to say a little something. As you may or may not have noticed, we're missing two very important people this evening. Dakota, I know that if they could be, your parents would be here to watch you marry the man of your dreams. I know how much your parents meant to you and your brother and because of that, Chase and I have arranged something special for the both of you. Before I get to that though, I just want to say how proud I am that I get to call you and your brother my family. The both of you have made a great impact on all of us in this room tonight and nothing would make me happier if you two would come up here and have a chance to dance together." Ryleigh said as Chase took Anna and ushered the siblings to the dance floor. "May I have this dance." Jack teased, making his little sister laugh. "Of course you can you dork." She replied and Ryleigh started playing.

youtube

(Just for the sake of this chapter, just pretend that's Ryleigh singing please and if you don't like it, don't listen to it. I just thought out of all the songs I listened to, this matched the best, since it was Jack who looked after Dakota when they were growing up.)

Dakota held on to her brother as if her life depended on it. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if their parents survived the fire. She knew that she couldn't live in the past but being in her brother's arms made her wonder what it would be like to dance with hr father, to have him be the one that walked her down the aisle. She missed her parents a great deal, even though she was only little when they died. "I love you Jack." Dakota whispered as Ryleigh wrapped up. "Thank you for everything." She continued as she kissed his cheek. "I love you too my darling." He replied as he gave her one last hug. She smiled at him once they broke the hug and Jack wiped away his sister's tears.

"I think the wedding went well." Dakota said as she and Chase got back to their own little villa. Chase laid his wedding dress-less wife down on the king size bed and kissed her neck. "Let's just skip the sweet stuff. Wreck me." Dakota said and Chase chuckled darkly. "Whatever my wife wants." He said as he pulled her panties to the side and plunged his index and middle fingers into her. Dakota bit her lip and moaned. Chase's tongue connected with her clit and Dakota gasped at the sensation. The electricity coursing through her veins. "Scratch this. I need you to fuck me hard and rough. I need your cock baby." Dakota said and Chase looked up at her through his lashes. He ignored her request and sucked her clit harshly. Surprisingly, it had Dakota screaming his name as her first orgasm washed over her. "Fuck that was fast." Chase said as he smirked. "You have a talented tongue my love." She replied and he stared at her lovingly before he pulled her to him. As she stood in front of him, Chase let his hands roam her body as he undid all her undergarments and removed them. Letting them fall to the ground, joining his clothes. Chase bent her over the bed harshly and slammed his cock into her dripping pussy. Both of them trying to hold it together as they had promised not to fuck each other again until after they were married. Dakota whimpered when he started moving. She had forgotten just how big he was and just how he filled her up. The man grunted as he penetrated her roughly.

Dakota's hands gripped the comforter beneath her as she tried to ease the weakness she felt in her knees. Each thrust brought her closer and closer to an intense orgasm. "Oh my god I'm gonna cum." Dakota screamed. Chase threaded his fingers through her loose hair and pulled it mercilessly. "Hold on, I wanna cum in you." Chase said and that was enough to push her over the edge. Her body convulsed around Chase's cock, causing her walls to clench around her husband violently. Both of them screamed as they came together brutally.

"Oh my fuck." Dakota grunted as the couple now laid in the bed wrapped up in the sheets. "Give me a minute and we can go for round two." Chase said as kissed his wife softly. Both of them catching their breaths.

Tag List: @sarahegerton96 @mairyleo @dogmom2014 @rocknrollmadden @jobanan23 @softeggsy @hauntedflamingo @superthiccthighssavelives @aberystwythboy @holdmeclosertinytaron @eggsyobsessed

#Sunsets&WhiskeyKisses #taronegerton #Richard Madden

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