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vanderlustwords · 3 years

Note

What if Steve leaves and she finds out she’s pregnant? I really love your alternate ending where he leaves for Peggy and wondering if you could write more about it. Doesn’t have to be him leaving a child behind that was just a question that popped into my head

Pairing: (past) Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Please do not repost/translate anywhere. Reblogs/Comments are much welcomed ♥

Continuation of: This Dress is Karma || Alternate Ending

Warnings: unbeta'd. Angst ending for Steeb.

Note: I don't know how you roped me into writing a 2.3k continuation but here I am LOL

Count: ~2.3k

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You shut the door with a soft click, waiting until you hear the quiet footsteps fade away. The lump in your throat gets harder to swallow as you turn around, leaning back against the door and let out a shaky sigh.

You can't help but think those were some brave words you said to Steve. You desperately wanted them to be true. You did want to be so happy that it would physically pain Steve if he were to ever witness it.

You wanted it to be true that you were never going to see him again because he had hurt you so much, and he needed to stay away from you.

But when you lift your trembling hand to your stomach, you wonder if everything you said had been nothing more than a brave front.

"You alright?"

You immediately look up and see Bucky stepping out of the guest room, fully dressed with towel-dried hair.

You swallow and force a smile as you drop your hand.

"Yeah, you ready to head out?" You ask him as you stand up straight.

Bucky nods with a grumble before he grabs a strand of his hair. "I need a haircut first, though. Do you think we could find a barber first?"

"Sure," you say, turning around and opening the door with Bucky following you behind.

"You sure everything is okay?" Bucky asks you again.

The way your throat feels raw, the hysterical words that want to escape your mouth make you feel dizzy. You want to put your hand against your stomach again as if to see if you could suddenly feel a bump.

But you refrain because Bucky would get suspicious. Well, he'd probably think you had a stomachache first, but if you didn't stop acting strange, he would pry.

"Everything's fine," you mumble.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

As the weeks pass, more and more things begin to slip from you.

There is a layer of never-ending panic that sits right beneath your skin, crawling and setting your nerves on fire.

When you began to get morning sickness and threw up into the toilet, you began to shake.

The reality of your situation began to hit you.

You were pregnant.

With Steve's child.

Steve, who had abandoned you and was grey and old and probably would pass away soon.

The notion of it all had you throwing up in the toilet again.

You were alone, and you were scared.

What were you going to do? You couldn't rely on Steve anymore.

You looked down at your relatively flat stomach still, placing your hand against it.

There was a life growing inside you. What were you going to do?

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

It was harder to hide when Bucky came over almost every other day, even though he didn't live with you. He had stayed for a week after the confrontation with Steve but quickly found his own place.

Initially, that had made you feel more alone, like everyone couldn't wait to escape from you. But it had worked out when you needed alone time.

Bucky was currently in your kitchen, cooking up steaks for lunch for the two of you.

The smell of it made you deathly pale.

"What's going on with you?" Bucky asked with a frown as he set the steaks aside to rest.

You had to swallow hard before you could answer. "Nothing," you said weakly. "I'm—I'm sorry. I know you came all the way here to cook but I'm not really hungry."

"You've been saying that for days now, doll," Bucky pursed his lip. "I feel like I haven't seen you eat a proper meal lately. What's going on? I know things have been...hard. Especially since you last saw Steve, but this isn't okay. I need you to eat something in front of me that isn't pretzels, bananas, or bread."

The idea of sliding a piece of steak basted in butter had your stomach knot itself painfully.

You shook your head, but when Bucky insisted, slicing the steak and you watched the juices run, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You took off to the bathroom in haste.

"Hey—" Bucky called out and took off after you, but you were quick to shut the door before you fell to your knees over the toilet and hurled.

"What's wrong?" Bucky yelled through the door, trying to jiggle it open but found you had locked it. "Open the door, doll. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," you said shakily as you grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your mouth, eyes hot with tears. "I just—I just haven't been feeling well."

The silence on the other side of the door only lingered for a moment before Bucky used his metal arm to turn the doorknob so hard, it broke open.

He found you sitting on the floor, over the toilets, eyes rimmed red and your face pale.

Bucky carefully walks in and kneels slowly before you.

He thinks back the couple of weeks and how you've been going to the bathroom a lot more, and how you don't like going to restaurants to eat. You've been eating at home and the strangest things and wearing more flowy shirts.

He looks at your face, and the way you're trying to hold back your tears makes Bucky feel dread.

"Doll..." he calls you softly. "Are you—Are you pregnant?"

You let out a choked sob in response, face dropping as you close your eyes.

Bucky's quick to hold you in his arms as he strokes your back, his heart dropping.

There was only one person who could've gotten you pregnant.

There had been some dumb shit Steve's done the entire time Bucky's known him. Always getting into scraps he couldn't finish, always prideful when Bucky wanted to help him.

But it had been the first time Bucky's ever been so fucking pissed at Steve. It was the first time Bucky couldn't defend or make an excuse for his friend.

"Bucky, what am I going to do?" You trembled in his arms. "I can't—Steve isn't—I want to keep it but I'm alone."

Bucky swallowed so hard it was painful.

There was no fucking way he was ready to be a dad or step up in any kind of way—that is, if you even let him.

Fuck, you two didn't even have feelings for each other or anything. There was something, maybe, Bucky thought for the future. But now?

"You're not alone," Bucky reassured, keeping his voice still for your sake. "I'm here. I'm here all the way and I'm not gonna leave you, doll. Ever."

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You manage to keep the fact that you're pregnant under the wraps easily. It helps that since saving the world, no one really meets up anymore. A part of you worries because you can't find Wanda anywhere, but you know she can find you if she wanted to.

Sam might be the only other person who knows, and Bucky was begrudging when accepting his help.

Months pass, and you're surprised how dedicated Bucky is. You're pretty sure you're on the verge of a mental breakdown constantly. A part of you worries Steve will show up, but Bucky reassures you that there's nothing Steve could do even if he did show up.

"Fuck..." you swore as Bucky was in the middle of figuring out how to build the crib the two of you got from Ikea. He looks up at you alarmingly. "I think my water just broke."

"Oh, shit, okay, okay!" Bucky jumps up right away and starts running around to grab the prepared bag as he helps you out into the car. "Don't panic!"

"Bucky, I'm literally about to push a baby out of my body. I'm going to fucking panic if I want to," you snap, and Bucky bites his lip to refrain from speaking as he zips through traffic.

"Oh, god," you say under your breath. You were having a baby. You were actually going to have a baby.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

"Bucky, you can't just carry her everywhere," you grumbled as you pushed the stroller through the park. "You're spoiling her."

"Yes, I can. She wants me to carry her and whatever my princess wants, she gets." Bucky declared indignantly at you while sticking his tongue out.

You sighed with a smile.

You couldn't believe a year has passed. Despite the time passing, you never really felt fully prepared as a mother. You were scared you were fucking it up all the time if you're honest.

Bucky holds your hand, and you give him a shy smile. That was new too. Slow and steady, as Bucky has always been, and you think you were falling for him because of that.

When you look up, your heart stops.

"Oh," Steve blinked.

Another year has passed, but you find Steve doesn't look too different. A little more tired perhaps, but still...Steve.

You feel panic creep up in your chest that threatens to become a panic attack before Bucky squeezes your hand.

"Breathe, doll," he whispers encouragingly to you, but it's loud enough for Steve to catch.

You do as he says, taking a few calming breaths. You want to keep walking, but it seems Steve can't stop staring at the child in Bucky's arms.

"Why don't you take Hazel to the pond? She really likes looking at the ducks," you tell Bucky, and he nods, warily looking at you and Steve. He sends Steve a curt nod before he takes the stroller with him and walks off.

Steve's eyes trail after Bucky.

You know then that he knows. It's not hard after all. Hazel looks like a spitting image of Steve, something that had been hard for you to deal with at first. Her blonde hair and blue eyes—the blue eyes were easier since Bucky's eyes were blue too, even if a darker shade.

But Hazel was so lovely; you loved her so easily.

"When did you know?" Steve asked.

You shrugged. "The day before we all saved the world."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Steve's voice was pained and betrayed, and you cocked your brow at him.

"Why? So you would stay?"

"Yes, I would have!" Steve insisted.

The sheer stupidity of the situation had you give a humourless laugh.

"The last thing I want is for you to stay because of a baby, Steve. You wanted to leave, despite everything, you chose to leave. We would only hate each other in the long run."

"That's not true," Steve denied. "When I made that choice, it wasn't because I didn't love you anymore."

"No, you just didn't love me enough."

The words rang clear, almost throwing Steve off-kilter.

The silence fell, and the two of you could hear Hazel laughing with Bucky in the distance as she shrieked.

"Don't you think I deserved to know about her?" Steve asked with his lips pursed.

"No," you answered honestly. "What do you, a 90 something-year-old man, have to offer her? You certainly can't step up and be her father. Your time keeps running out and the last thing I need is for Hazel to have instability. Did you want to be her grandfather? She's already met mine, so do you want to pretend to be Bucky's?"

"So, you're just gonna lie to her and let her think Bucky is her dad?"

Your eyes flash angrily.

"Bucky is her dad. He's the only dad that counts in every way. Do you know how hard it was for me? I was scared shitless, Steve. You can delude yourself into thinking otherwise, but you're unreliable. I couldn't come to you for help," you snap at him. "Do you know who was there every time I was puking my guts out, crying or screaming, or wanted pickles with peanut butter at 2AM? Who do you think was there for every appointment. Who bought fifty parenting and baby books to study religiously? It was Bucky. Even though I knew he was scared too, he was there. So, don't fucking try to make me and Bucky look like the bad guy. You have NOTHING to offer to Hazel."

Steve stood there wide-eyed, guilt crowding over his eyes. Steve doesn't want to say he regrets going back because that would mean a lifetime of regrets he can't get back.

"You're right," Steve said slowly, trying to appease your anger. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. It's not my place to say anything."

Even though Steve says it, he looks over to the little girl squealing in Bucky's arms. He looks at her blonde hair that she clearly got from him and your nose.

He and Peggy had children—children he loved more than anything.

But...the idea of his child with you...that was another reality he missed.

It seems to be that way always for him, Steve thought somberly. He was always missing something. Maybe you had been right about him.

Steve listens as you take a deep breath in and exhale.

"Do you want to meet her?" You offer, and Steve can tell it's difficult for you to say those words.

"If you're okay with it," Steve said slowly.

You nod stiffly. "It's fine as long as you respect my wishes and refrain from telling her you're her bio dad. I want to save that conversation for when she's older and able to understand it more."

You don't say it, but Steve is already thinking how he'll most likely be gone by then.

The two of you begin to walk towards Bucky and Hazel.

"What will you tell her?" Steve asked.

"The truth," you shrug. "That you were the world's greatest hero and you loved her and would've loved to get to know her if you stayed, but you didn't and it wasn't her fault."

"Right, it was mine," Steve felt a sting in the back of his throat.

"I don't think it was anyone's fault," you tell him. "It's just karma, Steve. I wasn't enough for you and now you're not enough for Hazel."

Right, Steve thought somberly as he looked at you in your summer dress. It was different from the sexy red one that used to drive him insane.

It was a calm peace, a show of your motherhood and graceful maturity.

This dress is karma, too.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #steve x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x you #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #v.myfic

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wooteena · 3 years

Text

technoblade speedrunning adopting ranboo (high school edition): the fanfic

also on ao3!

hey remember this post? well i got so attatched and impatient that i wrote over 1k words for a pilot type chapter for it <3

chapter one: officer in my defense i punched that guy because he deserves it

Techno Blade-Minecraft would call himself smart. He got good grades without trying, learned second, then third languages with ease, read textbooks for fun, etcetera etcetera. Wisdom without experience was a rare thing to possess, especially in a high school senior but techno had it tight in his grasp, easily making him a ‘Model Student’. He understood he got unneeded attention from that, which sucked, but it was an easy trade-off to be the automatic teacher’s favourite.

But Techno was a man of wisdom, not a man of sense. So naturally, he remembered a fact about baby birds he learnt when he was six years old:

‘Classical "imprinting", as seen with for example, ducks or geese, means that the animal's instinctive programming says "the first big animal you see after hatching is your mom, follow them and look to her for food, warmth, love and learning’

Actually, Techno decided he was the man of Most Sense because at that very moment, the tallest, yet somehow weakest looking freshmen he’d ever seen was being cornered by a group of hefty looking seniors.

And the baby bird, with its innocent, scared eyes was looking right at him.

He looked around the hallway, a desperate scan for other students he could push his growing parental responsibility on to. It was a ghost town, as empty as the remakes of towns from the old west he saw on childhood school excursions.

‘Fuuuuuuuuuuck.’

Technoblade took a deep breath in through his nose, then released it out of his mouth like if he breathed hard enough, his empathy could be taken away with the non existent wind in the soul-crushing grey hallways. It obviously didn’t work because Jesus Christ that kid looked helpless.

As quickly as one could without compromising a freshmen’s still intact nose, Techno examined the seniors. They all wore the school football team’s letterman jacket (‘what is this, Heathers?’), a classic pointer for internalized insecurity, toxic masculinity and most importantly unrightfully self diagnosed Strong Guy syndrome, which meant that they definitely were only beating up a freshmen because that was the most they could actually fight. One point to Technoblade. They also were all at least a solid five inches shorter than him, which Techno would have laughed at if the situation wasn’t so dire. Point two for Technoblade.

Catching himself before letting his wandering mind think up a full five paragraph M.L.A sighted essay to why he could crush these nerds, he decided that two points was enough leverage to still crush these nerds, but with slightly less confidence.

With as much patience as he could, he slowly walked up to the group like a silent lion hunting his soon to be, very dead* (maybe not dead, *slightly bruised) prey. The baby bird, trapped in one of his prey’s chokehold, stared at him like he was a madman. Techno’s objective changed: knock out the dickhead choking a kid.

They stood in a corner, the choker in the middle, the other two blocking off the only escapes and laughing cruelly at the baby bird. Completely distracted.

Techno curled his fist, aiming to punch that asshole’s teeth in or at least break his nose. He starts to run, about five feet away from his target and oh god this is a terrible idea he does fencing not hand to ha-

BAM.

Choker’s nose made a resounding crack and fell back onto the jock on the left. Probably because it’d be ‘too gay’, or whatever, the guy sidesteps and lets a knocked out, nose broken, probably popular kid by comparing his ego to the size of his dick, fall onto the ground

The two awake bullies look between their knocked out friend, then at Techno, then at each other.

“MISS NIIIIHACHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!”

Techno knew they’d call a teacher because they’re cowards but really? Nihachu?

That lady is TERRIFYING what did he do to deserve this.

He let out a long, disappointed ‘bruh’ before with a jolt, remembering the whole reason he punched that jock in the first.

The child.

He doesn’t bother trying to pick up him up because holy hell he’s tall, but pulls one of the kid’s arms over his shoulder, and with his other arm holds their waist and sprints as fast as he can down the hall.

“What the…” murmurs the half dead lump on his back, and while Techno’s surprised his vocal chords aren’t dead? Not even a ‘thank you’? Techno thinks he should start doing charity work at this point.

He continues to run though, because he’s a generous soul, until slowing to open a door that opens the blinding sunlight of the free world outside their prison.

Despite himself, Techno lets his mouth slip into a big enough smile that actually shows his teeth because he just did that. His celebratory moment is cut off though, because the weight on his back suddenly felt even heavier and-

Oh my God the baby bird just fell asleep on me.

Am I a father now?

What do I tell Phil? Does this make him a grandfather?

I can’t just take him home.

What’s stopping you?

Oh my God, I’m a genius.

Techno may be a proclaimed genius, but he is not immune to the inherent propaganda of cute children, so he sets down the kid on the least grimey part of a battered metal bench to get his first proper look at the sleeping giant.

Apart from his injuries (a bleeding nose, bruises forming on his arms, a black eye and a red handprint on his neck) the kid looked… Weird. Techno had subconsciously noticed it while carrying him, but only now the complete oddity of him. His skin from the jaw down was a uniform, warm, dark brown, which was decidedly normal, but his face was… different. Not ugly, no, he looked average, if not perpetually awkward, even in his sleep. The right side of his face was a similar, if not slightly darker tone than the rest of his skin, but where it got weird weird was from the middle of his face and leftward, his face was pale. As pale as Techno, which is saying something because Techno himself has albinism; he has no melanin in his skin.

He found himself sympathizing for the kid again. Techno himself got bullied for his reddish eyes - a symptom of his albinism, and his naturally stark-white skin and hair. It got to the point that he dyed his hair pink, which decidedly made it worse because a guy dying his hair pink ? apparently high school treason to both students and the school rules. His bullies had a colourful range of insults, at least; Techno’s personal favourites being from after he died his hair: homophobic slurs. The teachers had constant complaints and even a couple suspensions, which didn’t stop Techno, obviously. What a wonder public school is.

So yes, Techno understood the baby bird, because despite Techno’s only weakness being himself (and apparently non-threatening freshmen?) as of now, it wasn’t like he came out of the womb a scary pink haired senior. He knew bullying like the hair dye aisle at his local department store.

He knew that helping the kid would make him more attached to the point of no return, but he’d accepted it. It felt like feeding a wild animal more food after making the mistake the first time, it’s not like it’ll get less annoying to have it following you around.

The moment Techno processed his own thought, his face blanched - somehow getting whiter despite literally being the textbook definition of a white boy.

He’d fallen into the ‘senior adopting a defenseless freshmen’ trap.

Shit.

Even more embarrassingly, this didn't deter Techno from pulling his first aid kit, for once his anxious over-packing doing some good.

acording to tumblr statistics, only a small percentage of people who like the post actually reblog it. so if you liked it, give it a reblog! it takes five seconds and you can always delete the reblog later.

#mcyt #mcyt fanfic #mcyt au #technoblade #ranboo #nihachu #dream smp #mcytblr #sleepyblr #philza #homophobia tw #bullying tw #violence tw #minecraft youtubers #baby bird au

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dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Artistic Intention

Artist!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve's doing well in his life drawing class, but a new muse throws him for a loop in the back supply room.

W/C: 2,374

Warnings: NO MINORS, p in v smut, unprotected sex, public sex, breeding kink if you squint, swearing

A/N: Hey! I wrote this for @buckyownsmylife 1st anniversary challenge! I love me a good AU so I chose Artist AU+ exhibitionism. Happy tumblr-versary! I made Steve a shy boi in this lol. If you liked this fic pls reblog/comment!! Check out my other fics too! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

It’s 1:45pm and Steve is desperately trying to weave his way through the crowd of people before him. His art folio hits everyone and thing as he makes feeble attempts to apologize to everyone for the bulkiness of the case. He can’t be too apologetic though, he’s running late for his 2pm life drawing class and if he doesn’t make it the professor will close the door in his face.

This is the longest 15 minutes in Steve’s life, he figures. He finally makes it up the steps and jogs up the stairs. His folio hits his leg, he winces but doesn’t stop, he’s only got a few minutes to make it up to the second floor and get himself situated behind an easel. He’s nearly out of breath when he makes it to the second floor and he’s trying to check his watch while running for the door. Two minutes.

Steve bursts through the doors and exhales loudly, he’s not sure he’s ever felt so relieved. His feeling of relief is short lived and quickly replaced with embarrassment as he realizes every pair of eyes in the room is on him. Every pair except for one. The new model for class this week, you slowly turn your head to reveal sharp eyes and a coy smile. He feels himself blush under your gaze and mutters an apology before getting settled in an easel directly in front of you.

He tries his best to focus on getting his paper and charcoals set out in an effort to shrug off the mixture of humiliation and lingering anxiety he had about being late. He feels his heartbeat begin to steady and he lets himself relax a little bit.

“Good afternoon, everyone. We have a new model in class this week, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. She’ll be keeping her current pose for one hour and repositioning for the second half of class. Mr. Rogers, since you had no problem running late I assume you’ll have no problem staying late as well. You’ll clean up after class.” The professor concludes with a short nod.

Steve sighs but nods his head in acknowledgement. He catches you smirking in amusement again at him and he can’t help but to blush all over again. He feels just like he did in high school, embarrassing himself in front of pretty girls. He sighs and picks up a piece of charcoal.

Steve decides to get a proper look at you and almost regrets it when he chokes on his own breath. You’re gorgeous, you’re coy and charming, you’re a muse. He’s still blushing because you’re naked, and beautiful and the feeling of humiliation hits him even more. He’s been in this class before, he knows the models will be naked but none of them had ever caught his attention as more than a subject, none of them were you.

He takes his time admiring your natural curves and appreciates your figure. You are so full of natural beauty, your bare face is perfectly flawed and the sun shining through the window highlights your skin tone. He can see why you were chosen to model for class, you’re perfect. He has to discreetly adjust himself and shuffles his jacket into his lap as he feels his pants tighten. He’s flustered all over again and realizes everyone else is already ahead of him. He puts charcoal to paper and gets to work.

____

As class goes on Steve’s sketch is coming along nicely. He can’t bring himself to look at you for more than a few seconds at a time for fear of getting hard again. When he sends furtive glances your way he catches you looking back at him with that smile of yours. He swears at one point you raise an eyebrow at him like you’re amused by him. He brushes it off and keeps drawing.

Class comes and goes much faster than he anticipated. He wants to pack up and get out as quickly as he can when he remembers that he has to clean up the room. He lets out a groan and waits for everyone else to leave. Now it’s only you, him, and the professor who are left in the room.

“Mr. Rogers I’ve got to get out of here, I trust you can put easels away without incident?” The professor asks. Steve nods and the professor turns to you. “Thank you for your work today, you can collect your pay from the front office. I look forward to having you as a model for this class.”

You smile and nod, waving goodbye to him. By now you’ve slipped on a robe and are reaching for your bag but it feels like you’re lingering. It’s just now that Steve realizes the two of you are alone. He swallows thickly, trying not to pay attention to you out of the corner of his eye. He begins to pack away his own drawing but not before giving it one final assessment. He can’t help himself from his own critical eye, analyzing mistakes and appreciating triumphs.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

Steve jumps in surprise, you’re peering right over his shoulder. He’s caught off guard by your presence and also by your voice, do you always sound this sultry?

He swallows and nods before taking a deep breath. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans he turns to face you.

“Uh, yeah. Yes it is. I don’t think it’s very good but I’m trying” He anxiously starts making excuses, assuming you hate it.

But you don’t. You just smile thoughtfully at him and nod.

“It’s good. At least, I think it is.”

“Th-thanks, thank you.”

“Do you always cut it that close or were you just hoping to stay late with me?”

Steve sputters at your boldness. He has to remind himself that he’s not that scrawny, measly kid he used to be. But he can’t help but feel like he is with his sweaty palms and short breaths.

“I, I um, I didn’t realize there’d be a new model. Was kind of expecting the old one. Not- not that there’s anything wrong with you, of course! I, sorry I didn’t mean to imply that, you’re- you’re beautiful too, you’re perfect really, I just. Oh jesus.” He spews the words out faster than his brain can keep up and he’s making a complete fool of himself.

He can’t bear to look at you, so he starts closing up easels and stacking stools. He doesn’t notice you ogling his muscles through his tight t-shirt.

“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask innocently.

“I-, um, yes. I think you’re very beautiful, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Steve answers honestly.

He moves some stools to the large supply room in the back of the classroom and you follow him.

“I think you’re beautiful too. And cute. You’re practically falling all over yourself, it’s sweet”

Are you talking to him? He still sees himself as he was back then, having a hard time thinking that anyone would look at him and find him attractive. It’s why he’s so beside himself now. You’re so completely beautiful and self-assured, there’s no way you’re talking to him. He sets down the stack he’s carrying and realizes you’re much closer than he thought. You’re inches away.

“What do you like the most about me? Is it my body? Don’t think I didn’t notice you readjusting your pants at the beginning of class.” You move even closer and Steve thinks you must be able to hear his heart beat because it’s about to come right out of his chest.

Your hands are on his chest and you have to lean up on your tip-toes for your lips to meet his ear.

“What do you say? You and me in this supply room? There’s hardly anyone here. Come on”

Steve feels like he’s dreaming, he has to check if he is. But then your hand reaches for his dick through his pants and he nearly doubles over from the sensation. He’s never been with anyone so brash and confident, your touch leaves a burning trail on his body.

“But- but what if someone comes in and sees?” He says, using every last bit of coherent reasoning he has.

“Isn’t that what makes it so fun?”

Oh, God. You. You. Smiling that devilish smile at him. He was weak in the knees and you took the opportunity to push him backwards onto a spare desk. You pulled him by the shirt collar to meet your lips and he let out a noise of surprise. Steve pushes his tongue into your mouth and lets out an obscene moan. You feel so good. He knew you’d feel good but not this good.

Steve’s large hands come to your waist and venture lower until he has a handful of your ass and grabs. You let out a little moan and nudge your knee between his legs and he grinds against it. You pull back to catch your breath when your hands go to the ties of your robes.

“We’re a little overdressed, don’t you think?”

Steve doesn’t need to be asked twice as he pulls his shirt over his head. Jeans have never felt so uncomfortable and he’s frantically trying to get himself down to his boxers. He swears he goes slack jawed when he looks back up at you. He’s already seen you naked, he just stared at you naked for hours, but you’re just as gorgeous as before but it’s the way you’re looking at him. Like he’s desirable, almost like he’s a piece of meat. It makes him feel wanted and reassured and he feels himself grow harder.

Your hands slip beneath the elastic of his boxers and slowly slide them down his legs. He can’t help but flush when you let out a small gasp at the size of him. He doesn’t want to get too big of an ego with it but he’s always known he was… gifted.

Before he can let anything go to his head he lets out his own soft gasp as you stroke him languidly. He can’t control his hips as they cant up into your hand. You grab his hand and quickly lead his fingers to your dripping pussy. Steve nearly melts when he feels how wet you are and slides two fingers in easily. He’s pumping them in and out and you let out tiny mewls as you kiss his neck.

There’s no more time for preamble though, you two need to be quick if you don’t want to be caught by some unfortunate custodian. You remove your hand from his cock and he takes his fingers out of your pussy and swears you whine a little. Feeling brazen himself, he makes direct eye contact with you and sucks his fingers clean. You bite your lip and squirm while he revels in the taste.

Reluctantly he takes his fingers out of his mouth and gets up to situate you so you’re sitting on the desk. You spread your legs wide for him and he takes in the sight, committing to memory. Maybe he can draw you like this some time. For now he takes a step closer but falters, remembering one fatal flaw in this whole plan.

“I… don’t have a condom”

You don’t look let down at all, you look excited in fact. Shaking your head, you explain to him.

“Doesn’t matter, ‘m on the pill. I wanna feel you cum inside me”

Steve might pass out before he gets the chance, the way you keep talking with that mouth of yours. He wastes no more time and positions himself at your entrance. He has one hand on his dick and the other on the back of your neck when he looks you deep in the eye and impales you fully in one go.

The moan you let out is pornographic and Steve uses his newly freed hand to cover your mouth.

“We have to stay quiet. Can you do that?”

You nod silently and he removes his hand, opting to grab your hip instead.

He pulls back and begins to start pumping into you. He’s steady at first, trying to keep himself from cumming too quickly. Slowly he starts increasing his speed and the force that he uses is causing the legs of the old desk to scrape against the floor.

Your hand reaches and grabs his ass, pushing him deeper into your pussy. You feel so tight wrapped around him with no barrier and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. You’re trying to keep your moans quiet when he kisses you to silence them all together. He’s trying with all his might not to cum before you do.

His fingers find your clit and he starts rubbing it in tight circles. You have a harder time keeping quiet and you’re squeezing him like a vice. The friction on your clit and his dick hitting your G-spot perfectly is causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head.

“‘M gonna cum, please. Please don’t stop” You beg. Steve feels a wave of power surge over him now that you’re the needy one.

“Go on then, I’m not far behind ya. Wanna feel your pussy cum on my cock.”

With a few moments more he has you seeing stars and you claw at his back and pull him close to you. He continues on in his movements and starts pounding into you in earnest chasing his own release. All you can do is hold on for dear life.

Steve makes one final thrust before he’s cumming deep inside you. The rush of warmth is welcome to you and you kiss his jaw as he tries to catch his breath. The only sound being both of your heavy breathing. Hopefully no one heard you.

Steve can’t believe what just happened. He met a gorgeous girl and she propositioned him in a public place all in the span of two hours. He realizes just how far he’s come from who he used to be. He looks down at you, your noses touching.

“So, what’s your name?”

#steve rogers x reader #artist!steve rogers #artist!AU #marvel fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #marvel x reader

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Vanilla

Kinktober day 21 - Vanilla

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - @stargazingfangirl18 asked for soft ransom! Thanks @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @whateveriwant for their advice! Also for @finleyjayne 's rainbow writing challenge with the prompt 'white lie'. Hope y'all like it💖

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - When you find out Ransom's been lying, you can't help but assume the worst.

Warnings - 18+ only please!, smut (m/f), ooc Ransom.

Pairing - Ransom Drysdale x reader

Word count - 2k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You sighed as a tear rolled down your cheek, looking at an old photo strip of you and Ransom. You had taken it in a photo booth at the fall fair, he was reluctant, calling them dumb and cheesy but he gave in when you gave him your puppy eyes.

He looked stoic in the first two, with you perched up on his lap, your arms around his neck but then he was laughing boisterously because you started tickling you. The last one was of him biting your neck as revenge.

Happy times. But they seem to be taunting you now.

Your family, even your friends, weren’t huge fans of Ransom. Your mother was actually scared he’d hit you or hurt you. But they didn’t know him like you did.

He was never cruel to you. Not even when he didn’t know you and had nothing to gain from being nice to you. Surprisingly, he was quite the gentlemen, holding the door for you, paying for your meals, even waiting for over a month before making love - you knew then you could never let go of him, no one would ever give it to you like him.

He did tend to be a bit judgmental and cynical, entitled and maybe a bit spoilt. But you accepted that as a part of him, encouraging him to work on himself. Sure, he’ll never be everyone's cup of tea, but he’d always be yours.

Or so you thought.

Dealing with Ransom required some finesse and patience that you were willing to put up because it was worth it. But you’d never put up with lies, or worse... that’s not who you were.

Ransom had told you he was going to meet up with his published to talk about his new project. Your gut told you that something was wrong. When he was late you took it upon yourself to call the publishing house only to find out he didn’t have a meeting today at all.

He didn’t have one that Sunday either, where he was for over four hours you didn’t know.

You let out a humorless chuckle at your own naiveté - who the fuck has a meeting on the weekend anyway?

You only saw what your heart wanted to show you. Maybe, he never loved you. Maybe everything you both shared for the past two years was a lie - an act.

You yelped a bit when you heard the door being slammed shut, putting the photo down you quickly composed yourself.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted you, kissing the top of your head before scavenging for a beer in your fridge.

“Hey,” your voice hoarse and croaky, you cleared your throat, “how was your meeting?” you spat. Unable to keep the contempt from your voice.

“So and so. They don’t know shit,” he twisted the cap off before he taking a long drag of it.

You gulped when you looked at his pale throat bobbing and swallowing the liquid down. He took his coat off, throwing it over the counter.

You watched his muscles flex under his tight sweater, his curious eyes watching you, your traitorous body still found him attractive. Which he was, objectively so, some might even argue that he was out of your league and not the other way around.

“Like what you see, doll?” he smirked, catching you staring at him. He stood before you, holding onto your hips.

You blinked, pushing him away and putting some distance between you, “I want to know more about the meeting.” you insisted.

“What the hell are you going on about?” He ran a hand through his perfectly groomed hair - messing it up. You knew it was a nervous tick of his.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about! You weren’t at any meeting were you? You were probably with some bitch,” you yelled, jabbing him in his chest with your finger, “No,” you laughed, “Wasn’t her fault. She’s not the one cheating. I should’ve known better.” you shook your head, “Everybody warned me.”

He had the audacity to roll his eyes, “God, you women - ”

“Shut the fuck up, Ransom. Now is not the time for your boring jokes. Where were you?”

“Why would you jump to the worse conclusion?!” he yelled back, his face turning red and a couple of veins popping on his forehead. “Do I not get benefit the doubt? Don’t you trust me?”

He walked towards you, making you take a few steps back until you hit the counter, tall and imposing above you. His jaw clenched shut as he stared you down.

You gulped, “I did trust you. But what explanation could you possibly have? You lied, didn’t you? Where were you?”

You watched him as he dug through his discarded coat, taking out a box and handing it to you. You knew what it was as soon as you saw it, the familiar burgundy color with the words ‘cartier’ written on top in golden cursive.

“I’m sorry,” you choked, your heart clenched in guilt. You accused him of the worst when he was just out getting you jewellery. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

“Bit to late to be sorry when you already said your part.” he gritted.

“Sorry,” you gave him a nervous smile, “I really don’t deserve this, I don’t know what to say...”

“I was with Meg, since she’s the only girl I know, who’d be of any use. She just gave a lecture about how buying diamonds is so unethical or something, I don’t know I tuned out,” he shuddered at just the thought of it, “So, it’s not final. We can exchange it if you don’t like it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You frowned, “Why would I need to exchange it? I’m sure it’s very pretty,” you opened the box and gasped, your jaw dropping, “Ransom... this is...” the most beautiful diamond ring you’ve ever seen. “Wait a minute, does that mean..”

“Yep,” he snatched it away from you, taking the ring out of it and then sliding it on your ring finger, “I was going to go the whole nine yards. Get down on a knee, act like a fucking Disney Prince but you don’t get that now,” he smirked, the diamond looking so pretty on your hand. “You’re stuck with me, forever.”

“Well, I’m sad that I missed out on a proper proposal but I suppose I deserve it. It really is so pretty,” you beamed at the ring.

“Don’t you dare take it off.” He held onto your hand possessively. Glad to have some sort of claim on you now that would let any unworthy asshole know that you’re taken.

You giggled, placing a quick smooch on his lips, “I won’t. I’ll protect it with my life,” holding the hand close to your heart. “I’m still so sorry. I should’ve known better.”

“That’s right, you should’ve.” he grumbled

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He’d have no problem assuming the worst if the roles were reversed. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” Jutting your lower lip out and looking at him with your big doe eyes.

Pulling you by your waist and holding you tightly against him, “I can think of a couple of things, pumpkin.”

He captured your lips in a salacious kiss that was all teeth and tongue, running his thumb over the diamond.

***

“Look so pretty with your mouth stuffed, pumpkin,” he praised, choking on a moan, pushing your hot, eager mouth further down on his length.

You let out a muffled whimper, relaxing your throat so you could take all of him. Which was quite a task but you powered through, swallowing him down until your nose touched the brown patch of hair above his length.

He let out a loud, primal moan, holding onto your head and trying his best not to bust his load too soon. He pulled you off of him, getting off of the mattress, putting his hands below your arms and hauling you up and pushing you down on it. It was always fun to manhandle you like that, what with you being so small and plaint. Always ready to serve him and let him have his way with you.

You blinked up at him with unsure eyes, almost wanting to cover yourself from his predatory gaze. “St - stop looking at me like that.”

He chuckled, “You’re mine now. I’ll look at you however I like.”

He knelt on the floor, pulling you till you were on the edge of the bed, nudging your intimate lips apart with his nose. He took a long breath in, your unique scent never failed to make him hot.

Placing a flurry of kisses up and down your inner thighs, giving your a nick and a bite here and there till you were going crazy with need. Need to have his mouth on you.

“Please, Ransom,” you sniffled exaggeratedly, “Just want your mouth on me.”

“You’ve got no patience, doll.” Which was rich, coming from him.

He shook his head, teasing your entrance with his tongue. Before finally, wrapping his mouth around your bundle of nerves, sucking at it leisurely.

You pulled at his hair, pushing him closer to your heat because you needed more.

He took the hint, plunging two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out till he felt you clamping down on them. He pulled right away when he felt you getting too close to your climax.

No, he needed to look at your face as you fell apart with him.

Ignoring your whines and curses he hovered above you, pushing his tip against your entrance, coating it with your juices.

You were out of it, barely there with him, your hands loosely holding onto his broad shoulders, “I love you,” you murmured and then yelped, your eyes scrunched shut as he thursted his entire length inside you. Your nails digging into his biceps and drawing blood.

There was that delicious familiar ache at first, but you willed yourself to ride through it. It’ll feel good in no time. Except.... he didn’t move.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him to see him staring at you. You called out his name, caressing his cheek.

“Say it again,” he panted.

“Say what?” you yelped again as he lifted your hips up, his tip brushing against your spongy spot, “Oh.. uh... I love you.” you repeated.

He stayed still for a moment or longer. Still not used to hearing those words, especially said so sincerely by you. They often caught him off guard and overwhelmed him.

His hips bucked into yours as he started thrusting into you properly, his fingers digging into your hips.

You pulled him down and pressed your lips to his, swirling your tongue against his, spilling your moans in his mouths, only pulling away when you could barely breath. He did have a way of always leaving you breathless.

Propping himself on his elbows, he watched you writhe under him, your face scrunching up in untethered pleasure as you kept asking him for more. It's where you belonged, wrapped up around him. And your cavern was his rightful place, especially now that you'll be married.

“You’ve always been a, tight little thing. Squeezing the shit outta me,” he grunted as you pulsed and fluttered around him your body seized up and fell back.

He kept driving his hips into you, riding out your orgasm till ropes of his seed coated your walls, he didn’t let up till he was sure he gave you every last drop of him.

He collapsed on top of you, nipping at the shell of your ear, “Again,” he pleaded, his voice wavering with his cock softening inside you.

“I love you, baby, more than you’ll ever know,” you said, cradling his head close to you.

He hummed, pulling himself out of you, laying beside you, he admired your ring as you struggled to stay away, your eyes already dozing off.

He was proud to have bought it with his own hard earned money with the book you inspired him to write, it was sort of poetic in a way. But you didn’t need to know that or you’d accuse him of going soft for you - which to be fair he was. As his mother always says every marriage has its secrets.

Tags will be in the reblog!

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

#rainbowwritingchallenge #ransom Drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom x reader #chris evans x reader #berry writes

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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

Hold you to it (h.s)

Pairing: Harry Styles X Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Harry’s home for a mini break and you plan to take advantage of his time.

Warnings: SMUT. Oral (female reciving) Face sitting. Mentions of masturbation. Language. Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 2.2 k

Author’s Note: Hey! I’m back with another Harry piece! I’m still new to writing smut and I really hope you like it. Reblogs, feedback, comments and likes are more than welcome and encouraged ❤️ hope you like it and Happy Reading ✨🦋🌻

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Picture found on Pinterest

Anon: can you do a fic like perks(calum hood), but instead its with Harry and its his facial hair instead of thighs?

You were so thankful for Olivia Wilde.

That was the only thought running through your head as you rested your back against the kitchen counter, sipping on your coffee as you watched your boyfriend play with different strumming patterns on his guitar in the living room.

Harry has always been a morning person, you knew you’d die before you see the day where he slept in more than you on a weekend. His bright smile always lit up the room, just like the sun itself when it sets through the window curtains of your shared bedroom. And today was no different.

After weeks of filming away from home, Olivia sent everyone home for a mini holiday before resuming filming the last shots of Don’t Worry Darling. And you couldn't be more grateful for that.

Harry took that opportunity to the max, planning to stay home for as long as it was physically possible. He felt incredibly guilty for leaving you alone all of these past months, even if you reassured him that you understood why he had to do it and that he had your complete support. But he was dead set on making it up to you, and so he did.

The first day came and went as you spent it tangled in the sheets, only getting out of bed when you really needed to, but never going too far to miss each other's warmth, catching up to all the things you missed, all the kisses you couldn't give and all the moments just being by his side.

The second day was not much different and neither was the third or fourth. All of your moments were spent together and you wouldn't have it any other way. You would never admit it to yourself, but you were secretly glad that Harry was as clingy as you.

It was almost like a drug, the love you had for each other. It was too much but at the same time it never seemed like enough. You would give the world to each other if it were possible, but you knew that your world was made as long as you were together.

You were addicted to him in every possible way. You knew his secrets and he knew yours. He knew just where to touch you, to kiss you, to love you, and you knew just how to make him feel like the king of the world as long as you were his queen. He showered you in delicate details that knew would make you happy, going from something simple as to make you coffee in the morning, to giving you the most expensive lingerie for you to show it off only to him. For him, you were his rock, his anchor to earth when the world became too much, sometimes even feeling like you were the only real thing he had and he would be an idiot not to appreciate you, to love you like you deserve.

Yet, sometimes you wonder if you could love him better, if you could ever be enough to deserve his kind of love. You knew if he could hear your thoughts right now, he would make all of those insecure thoughts go away with just a simple kiss. It was so easy to love him, so much so that you believe you’d never really love till him.

And, as you watch his fingers move against the strings, you know you will never love someone as much as him.

You held your mug closer to your chest, smiling as you recognized the melody he was playing. He knew your favorite songs by heart and he proudly sang them to you whenever you were around. This simple detail let you know that he was aware of your presence, even when his back was facing you. So you didn’t waste anymore time as you went up to him and sat beside him on the sofa.

“How’d you know that I was awake?” You asked, resting your head in the palm of your hand as you laid your elbow on the couch.

Harry just smiled without looking at you and without stopping his strumming “I always know it’s you” He said, his voice husky as it was still early “Hard to ignore your stare, my love”

You took another sip of your coffee, trying to hide the red that stained your cheeks at the sound of the pet name. Even after all this time you still get butterflies when he called you sweet names.

You concentrated all your attention on watching him as he played his guitar with such skill. You smiled as you watched how his curls started growing again, he had to cut his hair on a retro style for the movie and he always had to keep it neat and proper, but today it was just flying around everywhere with no direction, some of them even falling on his forehead on a perfect little curl that just made him seem angelical. You watched as his hands moved along the strings, his long fingers pressing the right chords as his strumming never stopped. You always loved his hands, his delicate touch igniting fires in you everytime he wandered your body like it was a finest piece of art and he was the sculptor.

Soon, your thoughts went deeper as you remembered the way those same fingers left their mark at the sides of your body, holding you tighter and closer to him as he fucked you roughly through the night. Touching every part of you that needed to be touched as he made you reach your climax over and over again.

You were so deep into your own mind as memories of the night before came flooding in, making you close your legs a little harder in order to feel some kind of friction that could ease your ache, that you didn’t notice that the song had stopped and that those beautiful green eyes you love so much were staring at you now.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked with a smirk, almost like he could read your dirty thoughts with just a look into your eyes.

You placed your mug on the coffee table, scooting closer to him at the same time he put his guitar to the side and rested his arm over your shoulders. You laid your head into his shoulders, lifting your gaze to meet his “Kiss me”

Harry needn’t to be told twice cause in the second you finished your sentence his hand was already flying to your cheek to pull you closer to him and capturing his lips with yours.

You were completely intoxicated on his lips, on the way they moved in sync with yours and the way that his tongue took control almost immediately, allowing him to deepen the kiss till you saw nothing but stars behind your eyes. Soon, his other hand moved to your back, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his hardening cock.

“Feel what you’re doing to me, baby” He said with a groan after you started grinding his growing over his sweatpants.

“Harry..” You moaned as his lips moved from your mouth, to your jaw and to your neck, tracing the marks he already left and leaving new ones for you to see later. You loved the way he claimed you with every kiss, every bite. But you especially loved the way his scruffy beard was burning your skin with every move he made, making you crave that sensation over your whole body and more “I missed this”

Harry chuckled lightly, his hands going from your ass cheeks to under his shirt that you were wearing, grabbing your sides and making you grind ever harder against him, spreading your arousal all over him “If I remember correctly, we were in the same position a few hours ago, love”

“No,” You whined “I missed this” You grabbed his face softly, your fingers running over his cheeks and his scruffy beard and mustache “I’m so glad you are not filming anymore”

Whenever he had to be on set, Harry had to maintain his face clean as a baby in order to stay in character. You had complained a lot about it since you always love his facial hair, that month where he left his moustache growing was still one of your highlights of the year. And Harry was well aware of how much you like it, so for this break he let it grow all over again, knowing how much fun you’ll have with it.

He smirked like the devil before pressing his lips to your ear and whispering “If you missed it so much then why don’t you ride it?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine as he said those words, feeling your arousal grow with every moment passed “Harry..”

“Be a good girl for me, Y/N” He said, lifting your shirt and throwing it somewhere around the room. His hands immediately flew to your chest, massaging your nipples “You want to be a good girl for me, don’t ya darling?”

“Y-yes!” Was all you managed to say before Harry laid on the couch and pulled you on top of him. He waited for you to take off your drenched panties as he positioned himself on his back.

You put your hands at the sides of his face, lowering your head for one last kiss as Harry’s hand slapped your ass in order to get you to stop.

“I need to taste that little pretty pussy of yours” He said before pecking a kiss to your lips and giving you another slap on your ass.

Your legs were shaking with anticipation as you placed your center over Harry’s mouth, almost cumming right there and there when you heard him moan at the sight of your naked pussy.

“You are soaked, my love” He said, kissing the inside of your thighs “All of this for me?”

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, but right now you didn’t give a damn “For you, Harry” You moaned, feeling his breath over your center “All for you, always”

“Hmm, good” Harry said before grabbing you by the sides of your hip and pulling you into him by surprise.

You let out a loud moan when his tongue lapped at your entrance, licking every single spot before moving to your aching clit. He started kissing your bundle of nerves, biting it lightly before he started sucking you clean.

“Oh my god” You said, hand flying to Harry’s head and tugging hard on his curls as he moved his face between your thighs, creating that burning sensation with his beard that you know you’d feel for days to come.

Harry started licking you up and down, holding on to your hips and moving them as he deemed fit, stopping at your clit every few movements to tease you as much as he could. He could die happy between your legs, savoring every part of you like you were his last meal on death row. He absolutely adored the way you tugged on his hair, making him moan as he felt you shiver above him with all your little dirty sounds going straight to his hard cock. It might be the little narcissist in him, but he relished in the fact that he was the only one who could make you come undone using only his mouth.

He knew you were close without even having to look at you. Your moans became louder and louder and your tug on his hair was almost painful. He loved that.

“You’re close, baby?” He asked in between your legs.

“S-so close, Harry. Baby. So close” You whimpered.

Suddenly, Harry’s movements stopped as his hands let go of your hips. Making you let out a desperate cry.

“Earn it”

That was all he had to say before you started grinding yourself onto his mouth. Your hips moved at a fast pace as you were selfishly chasing your orgasm.

Harry felt like he was in heaven as he felt you fuck yourself with his mouth, letting him taste every part of you as he gladly ate you out. Moaning inside of you with every hard tug you have to his hair.

You were drunk on him, completely intoxicated as you moved yourself against his mouth, not caring about the sounds that were coming out of your mouth or the way that you could hear how Harry was touching himself as he pleasured you. All of that only adding to your imminent orgasm.

“Harry- B-baby I’m cumming” You pant, moving faster and faster as you could feel the burn inside your thighs “Oh-I’m cumming!” You practically screamed as you felt yourself let go on top of him.

You felt Harry’s hand come and hold you in place by your sides, his tongue fucking you through your climax and licking every single drop of cum you had to offer.

A few moments later, you found yourself on top of Harry, tasting yourself in his tongue as he kissed you deeply “You okay?” He asked once he pulled away and saw your pleasure filled eyes.

“You love me too much” You said, smiling as he turned you over so he could be on top.

Harry chuckled as he lowered his head to kiss you again, this time a little rougher than before “I promise I can show you just how much more I can love you”

You moaned as you felt him grind his cock over your sensitive pussy, coating it with your juices as he was almost ready to push it inside of you.

“I’ll hold you to it”

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @multistann @tenaciousperfectionunknown @talksoprettyjjx @mystic-232

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noladyme · 3 years

Text

La Cuervo - Epilogue

We’ve come to the end of the story of Angel and Nina. Thank you to everyone who commented, reblogged and liked. Every one of you inspired me to keep writing. Thank you for reading.

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on, on Mayans M.C., are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambiguous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

Epilogue.

It was an especially cloudy day for a bike-ride. He looked up at the sky, and prayed to his mother it wouldn’t rain. It was already too cold for short sleeves, and he regretted not having listened when he’d been told to put on a hoodie under his cut that morning. The precious cargo behind him shifted in her seat. The bump pressed against his back was restless as well, he felt; from the tiny kicks he was receiving to his kidneys. “You alright?”, Angel called over his shoulder. “Yeah… she’s just antsy…”, Nina replied. “We’re almost there”, he smiled. “Good. I gotta pee”. “Shit. Again?”. “Blame your daughter”, she chuckled. “Be nice to your mama, chiquita!”, Angel chuckled, addressing the cantaloupe-sized treasure in his amor’s belly.

Charming was a nice place. He could understand why Nina loved it there, but the stares their caravan was getting made him uncomfortable. The people in the small town looked at him and his brother’s as if they were gods – which in and of itself he didn’t mind – but it was a lot different than what he was used to from Santo Padre, where the Mayans were accepted and even feared; but not looked to as saviors and protectors, as the Sons of Anarchy were in Charming. His discomfort came from realizing that he’d like to be viewed as the Sons were here, back home. Becoming a Mayan had originally been about the pussy and the bikes; but lately, he felt the need to make a difference to the people in his community. Help the people who needed it; like the undocumented immigrants and the people trying to cross the border for a better life. Nina was doing what she could for those the club had gotten over so far, but it was still something they needed to keep quiet about – especially if he wanted to avoid seeing his daughter grow up from behind a plexiglass window.

They drove up to what looked like a warehouse-building; but he knew was the home of CaraCara. Pulling up next to EZ’s bike, he smiled as his brother gave Nina a hand to get off his own. “Centre of gravity seems a bit off, hermanita”, EZ chuckled. “Screw you… And move! I gotta pee…”, she sneered, and sprang for the nearest door of the warehouse. The brand-new Mayan patch moved up and down on EZ’s back, as he laughed; watching her run. Angel smiled at the sight, before patting his brother’s shoulder. “My kids got some kick”, he said. “Reina del baile, huh?”, EZ smiled. “You’re gonna have to keep an eye on her when she’s older”. “She ain’t going out dancing until she’s as old as pap’”, Angel declared. “Yo! Are you two gonna keep staring at the pregnant lady run; or are you gonna come inside?”, Bishop called after them. The two of them grinned, and followed their patch-brothers inside the large building.

They were greeted by Chibs, Happy and Tig; the latter having to tear himself away from a strikingly tall woman, to come welcome them. The woman stayed by the bar in the large room, talking quietly with a pretty blonde woman behind it. Once the initial back and forth between the presidents were over, Chibs turned to Angel, and pulled him in for a friendly half-hug. “Did you forget someone in San Pad?”, the SAMCRO president asked. “Nah, man. She’s going to the bathroom every 45 minutes”, Angel chuckled. “Filip!”, Nina called out from behind them, and Angel turned around to watch her make a waddling run over to her Charming brothers. Once they’d all embraced, Happy looked down at Nina’s belly. “You did this?”, he asked Angel. “So she tells me”, Angel grinned. Nina punched his shoulder, making him have to take a few steps back. Getting knocked up had oddly enough made her even stronger than usual. “You knew I was pregnant”, she said. “Yeah, but…”. Chibs blew out a deep breath. “You’re huge, luv’!”. “I’m not that big…”, Nina whimpered. Angel walked up behind her, and kissed her temple. “You’re beautiful, mami”, he smiled, before looking to the Sons. “You told me to get her to quit smoking”, he grinned, and rubbed his hand protectively over Nina’s bump. “Yeah, but it seems like you took an alternative approach to that, man”, Tig chuckled.

Nina was shifting on her feet. “You gotta pee again?”, Angel asked. “No… Just gotta sit down. My feet are killing me”. He led her over to sit on the couch that looked the least like it had been used as a prop, in one of the movies produced by CaraCara. The tall woman and the blonde came over to greet Nina, and the three of them hugged each other tightly; with both of the other women stroking Nina’s belly, and cooing at it. “I’m Venus”, the tall woman said, and reached out her hand to him. “And I’m guessing you’re Angel… That’s a lovely name”. “Stop flirting with my old man”, Nina grinned. “You got your own!”. “I sure do!”, Venus said, and held out her hand; proudly displaying an engagement ring. “Oh my god!”, Nina exclaimed. “Congrats!”. She hugged Venus tightly again. “I’m Lyla”, the blonde said, and smiled at Angel. “Nice to meet you”, he replied.

Angel let the three women catch up, and walked over to talk to the other men. “The estrogen-level is through the roof in here!”, Creeper grinned. “That’s just the smell of cheap perfume and artificial sperm”, Chibs said. “Artificial?”, Gilly said. “You’d be surprised how many porn-actors find it hard to produce actual cum, after 13 takes; no matter how hot the actress”, Happy laughed. “I don’t think I’d find it that hard”, Coco smirked. The door opened, and a sea of beautiful women entered the warehouse. “Feel free to give it a shot”, Tig said to the wide-eyed Mayan.

“I thought this was supposed to be a business-meeting. Not a party”, Taza said. “Who says we can’t mix the two?”, Chibs said. “But you’re right. We should get to it”. Tig turned towards the three women on the couch. “Muffin, it’s time!”, he called out. Nina frowned, but let herself be pulled to her feet by the two others. Angel sprang over to take her arm. “Are you ok, cuervo?”, he muttered. “Yeah. Let’s just get this over with”, Nina sighed.

---

“Thanks for coming all the way up here”, Chibs said from the head of the table, in the smaller room, connected to the studio. “Thank you for agreeing not to do it at your clubhouse”, Bishop said. “This one’s getting too heavy to get up the stairs behind the ice-cream shop”. He nodded towards Nina. “Go fuck yourself, Bish’”, she grunted from next to Angel. Bishop sent her a warm smile, before meeting Angel’s eyes. They both knew he wasn’t wrong. Nina had trouble even getting out of bed at this point; which Angel didn’t mind. Pregnancy sex had been even hotter than he’d imagined. “Nina’s twelve months are over. We think it’s time to discuss what happens from here on out”, Chibs said. Angel shifted in his seat, and cleared his throat. “I think it’s obvious what’s gonna happen”, he said. “She’s staying in San Pad”. He put his hand on Nina’s bump, and stroked it. “Charming is her home”, Happy said. “She’s still SAMCRO family”. “She’s Mayan family too… And she’s got my family growing in her”, Angel growled. “We need niña down south”, Coco said. “She’s the only one of the girls back home who knows how to make a proper whiskey-sour”, Riz shrugged. “What about her life here? Her friends, her job at the shop?”, Tig said.

“What about we ask Nina what she wants?”, Nina exclaimed with a huff. “I’m not property…”. Chibs and Bishop looked solemnly at each other for a long moment, before both of them broke into large grins. “We’re just fucking with you, mija!”, Bishop said. All the Mayans and Sons broke out in laughter, and Angel had to chew his lips to stop. “We didn’t come up here to talk about you coming back, ma’”, he said. Nina scowled deeply at him; giving him that cute look that made him both cringe from the promise of being chewed out later on, and simultaneously made him want to rip off her clothes, and screw her brains out. Nina was hot when she was angry. “Then, why?”, she growled.

Angel turned in his seat, and helped Nina turn in hers; with a firm hold of her hips. “I can’t marry you, without permission from your brothers… All of them”, he said. Nina’s eyes widened. “You… what?”. “You got my kid in there. And I love you”, Angel said, and laid a hand on her belly. “I wanna marry you… If you’re good with that”. Nina seemed – for once – speechless. His heart jumped up into his throat. “Nina? Mami, talk to me…”. “I’m… yeah. Uh huh… We can do that”, she squeaked. Angel let out a sigh of relief. “Thank fuck… You had me worried”, he smiled. He saw a tear at the corner of Nina’s eye, and wiped it away quickly.

He put his hand to the back of her head, and pulled her in for a kiss; when someone cleared their throat. “We haven’t agreed yet”, Tig said. “He needs all of our go-aheads”, Hank said. “All of your brothers; remember?”. “We gotta vote on this shit”, EZ smirked. For a short moment, Angel considered smacking his brother across the head, but he decided against it. He needed a unanimous yes, and EZ was actually one of the few patches he was concerned about voting against him. “Then let’s do it”, he said. Chibs raised a brow at him. “You; get out”, he said. “What?”. “Salir de la habitación, amigo”, the SAMCRO president reiterated. Nina shot him a death-glare, and squeezed Angel’s hand. “You said your peace; now let the rest of us decide if we’re gonna agree to this unholy union”. Angel got to his feet and was about to help Nina up. “Not you, sweetheart”, Taza said. “We need your take on this as well”. Angel swallowed thickly, and looked at Nina. She gave him a warm smile, which didn’t reach her eyes, and he had to force his feet to move, to leave the room.

Once outside, Angel closed the door behind him. The large studio space had filled up with hangarounds – male and female – and pornstars he recognized from movies he’d watched in the past. The one’s he’d enjoy these days weren’t CaraCara productions, because Nina didn’t like watching people she knew as friends having sex. Instead, they’d watch the mini-productions they made themselves. Lyla came over to him with a cold beer, and patted his shoulder. “The party’s gonna be pretty PG for now. Wendy’s coming in with the boys for a few hours”, she said. “After that, I can’t promise there won’t be full frontal nudity”. Angel chuckled. “I didn’t know her nephews were coming”, he said. “It was a surprise. They haven’t been back in Charming since…”. Lyla cut herself off, and seemed to be suppressing a bad memory. “Nina’s brother… Jackson. He was a good guy, huh?”. “The best… And he loved her”, Lyla said. “If it wasn’t for the fact that they didn’t look alike, you’d never guess they weren’t blood-related”. “They were alike?”. “Uh huh”, Lyla nodded fervently. “Like two peas in a pod. And she was as protective of him as he was of her”.

A dirty-blonde woman came in to the warehouse, with two boys in tow. The youngest had dark hair, while his brother was blonde. The blonde boy – in his pre-teens – ran over to Venus, and sprang into her arms; clearly enjoying resting his head against her ample breasts. The brown-haired boy – about 7 or 8 years old – clung to who Angel figured was Wendy. She shot Venus a smile, and walked over to Lyla. “This him, then?”, Wendy asked, and gave Angel a once over. “Yup”, Lyla said. “Angel, this is Wendy; and the cutie-pie down here…”. She crouched down, and ruffled the boy’s hair. “This is Thomas. Jackson’s youngest”. “Casanova over there is Abel”, Wendy grinned. Abel stood as wide-eyed as Coco had, at the sight of the beautiful women surrounding him. “And I’m Wendy”. “Good to meet you”, Angel said. He stuck out his hand to Thomas. “Hey, man. I’m Angel”. “Are you the one who knocked up my aunt Nina?”, Thomas asked. Angel was taken aback at the kid’s bluntness. “I… Yeah”, he said. Thomas narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you gonna marry her? My dad married my other mom after I was born. You’re supposed to marry someone if you get them pregnant”. “I’m planning to”, Angel said. “If you’ll let me”. “I’ll think about it”, Thomas said.

Both Wendy and Lyla laughed, and then gave each other a warm hug. “If you wanna surprise her, you should probably go into my office”, Lyla said. “She’ll be out in a few”. Abel looked at the people in the room. “I wanna stay out here”, he declared; as fascinated as his brother was at all the women. “You’re just like your dad”, Wendy sighed. “Go on, Tommy. I got movies in there for you”, Lyla said, before looking at Wendy. “Disney”, she added. Wendy smiled, and dragged Thomas away. She nabbed Abel out of the lap of a scantily clad brunette; and the three of them went into a back office, in the corner of the building.

Angel looked at the door to where the meeting regarding the future of his family was being held behind, and felt his nerves starting to get to him. They’d taken too long already; the vote shouldn’t be that difficult. He took out his pack of smokes, and was about to light up, when Lyla put a hand on his lower arm. “Please go outside for that. I’m trying to keep the studio smoke-free”. “Yeah, sure… Sorry”, Angel muttered, and hurried towards the exit.

Once outside he began pacing back and forth. One cigarette turned in to two, which then turned in to three; and still no one had come to tell him what the decision of the clubs was. He was about to say fuck it, and stomped out his smoke, to walk back inside, and demand an answer; when Nina came outside. She walked over to him with a solemn expression on her face; and in that moment, Angel’s heart broke. “I’m sorry…”, she said. Angel felt rage building in him. Here was his endgame – the one woman he would ever be able to fully give himself to, and the mother of his child – and he couldn’t have her, because of a bunch of fucking bikers. He grabbed Nina’s hand, and tried pulling her towards his bike. “Fuck this shit. We’re out of here. We’ll go north… Like Canada, or something. I’ll marry you there… I ain’t letting them…”. Nina stayed in place, unmoving. “No, Angel… I’m sorry… I know your pap’ would expect me to; but I can’t wear white… It wouldn’t feel right”.

Angel’s jaw dropped, and he looked at Nina with wide eyes. “They said yes?”, he croaked. “Yes…”, Nina said below her breath. “I mean, Happy wanted our first-born as payment; but I told him to shove it”. Angel cupped her face, and stared deep into her eyes, looking for any sign of deceit; finding none. “We’re gonna get married?”, he said. Nina nodded. “We’re gonna get married, mami!”. he threw his arms around her waist, and lifted her up, spinning her around. “Careful!”, Nina giggled. He set her back on the ground, and pulled her in for a deep kiss; feeling like life itself came from the taste of her mouth. “I love you, cuervo”. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Te amo, so… fucking… much!”, he said, leaving kisses on Nina’s lips between each word. “I love you too”, she smiled.

Angel remembered something, and grabbed for the item in his pocket, he’d been keeping there, since his pap’ had given it to him a few days earlier. “Here”, he said, and held out the ring. “This was my mam’s”. Nina took the ring from him, and smiled. “Thank you…”, she said. She held it to her finger, before looking up at him. “Wait, did you wanna…? Or should I just…?”. Angel took her hand in his, and together, they put the ring on her left ring-finger. He pressed another deep kiss to her lips, and then got on his knees; putting his hands on either side of her belly. “I love you, chiquita. You’re the best thing to happen to me since your mama”. He kissed Nina’s tummy, just above her navel, and turned his ear against it, listening to the other love of his life moving around in there.

“Are you two finished?”, Chibs called from the doorway. “Someone’s come to see you, little sister”. Nina frowned in confusion, and Angel smiled brightly; getting to his feet again. He led her in front of her, with his hands on her hips. “Try not to give birth right this moment, mama”, he whispered in her ear, when Lyla opened the door to the office, and Abel and Thomas came out. “Oh… Oh, my god!”, Nina cried out, and ran as fast as she could over to her two nephews. She kissed both of their foreheads, and each boy wiped off the kisses in childish disgust, while she hugged them. “You’re so big!”, Nina croaked, before turning to Wendy, and hugging her. Angel looked on with a full heart, as both of the boys took turns touching her belly.

EZ came up next to him, and patted his back. “Congratulations, Angel”, he said. Angel turned, and gave his brother a warm hug. “Thanks, man…”, he said.

---

A little while later, Angel was seated next to his fiancée on the couch. Someone had produced a box of old photographs of club-parties through the ages. Nina was groaning in embarrassment, as Chibs held out a picture of herself and him, where the Son was holding up his fingers in a cross at Nina, who was sporting a large pimple on her forehead. “The Creature of the Black Lagoon!”, Chibs laughed. “Funny…”, Nina smiled sarcastically, and ripped the photo out of his hands. Angel snatched it from her, and put it in his cut pocket. “I’m keeping this, cuervo”. “Why?”, she frowned. “Blackmail… Maybe you’ll stop trying to cook for me”. “Kiss my ass”, she retorted. “Gladly”, Angel said, and kissed her temple.

Nina picked up an envelope full of pictures, and pulled them out, to look through them. “What’s this?”, she said. Angel grabbed the pile of photographs. A grin spread on his face. The telltale patch of the Mayan mask sprang into his eyes, on the back of a biker; who’d turned his face towards the camera. It was Bishop; who was sporting a shorter beard, but a no less intimidating mustache. “Wow, this was years ago…”, he chuckled. “San Bernardino, right?”, he asked Chibs. “Yeah”, the president nodded. Nina studied the pictures, as Angel flipped them. “What’re the Mayans doing there? Weren’t you rivals?”. Looking at the date in the bottom corner of the picture, Angel shook his head. “Nah. This was just after we became allies. I think this was one of my first parties as a prospect. It was like a club-mixer thing, with a couple of charters from each side, meeting up, and getting wasted in the name of peace…”

He flicked through some more pictures, before reaching one with a tall bearded man in a beanie; a goofy looking biker with a mohawk; and a chubby man, with unruly, curly hair. Angel noticed Nina’s face light up in something resembling recognition. “SAMCRO?”, Angel asked. Nina nodded. “Opie, Juice and Bobby”, she said, smiling softly. “You said you were there?”. “Yeah… I think so”. Angel flicked through some more photographs, and pulled a picture out from near the bottom of the pile. He laughed out loud. “Shit, yeah… Look at that dumbass prospect staring at the camera. He don’t know shit yet…”.

A younger version of himself – though not by many years – was pictured with a tray of shots in hand, looking drunk and smiling goofily, while getting ready to serve a group of Mayans and Sons, who were seated at a table, in the middle of a poker-game. Angel looked happy just to be there, and the prospect flash on his chest looked brand new. “Fuck, man… Look at that hair…!”, he chuckled. He looked at Nina again, expecting her to laugh along with him; but saw that her eyes were full of tears. She was staring at a blonde man; who was seated by the table, shooting the camera a relaxed grin, and reaching for one of the glasses on Angel’s tray. “What’s wrong? My hair don’t look that stupid", Angel said, letting Nina take the photograph from his hands. “Mami? Do you know this guy?”. Angel looked down at the picture with wide eyes. “I remember him… Some big deal in SOA, right…?”. “Jax…”, Nina breathed. “This is him…”. “That’s your brother?”, Angel almost gasped. “I can’t believe I actually met the guy". “Do you remember him?”, Nina asked hopefully.

Angel dug through his memories, wanting nothing but to please her with a heartwarming story. “I was pretty wasted…”, he admitted. “But I remember he was talking about his kids…”. Nina nodded solemnly, seemingly sad, that she couldn’t get anything else out of him. He put his arm around her, and kissed her forehead. Chibs reached across the table, and took the picture. He looked down at it and chuckled. “Of course you don’t remember…”, he said. “But I can’t believe I fucking forgot!”. “What?”, Angel asked. “You were driving that piece of shit Suzuki, and thought you’d get away with sitting on Jackson’s Super Glide, for a picture”. The memory began dawning on Angel, and he instantly cringed. “He caught you, and knocked your fucking lights out! Peace was almost off because of that shit…”. Taza, who’d been chatting with Tig, took the picture from Chibs, and smiled down at it; before handing it back to Angel. “Don’t you remember Angel? We put another three months on your year as prospect for that”.

A clear laughter broke through the sound of the music, and the talking crowd. Angel turned and looked at Nina, whose face was contorted in glee. “Jax told me about that! How some no-name prospect rubbed up on his bike”, she said. “I had to put him in his place… I got him a beer when no one was watching, though”. “Yeah…”, Angel said, letting the corners of his lips rise in a slight smile. "I remember now. He seemed like a good guy”. “He was…”, Nina said. Her brows furrowed for a moment, before she met his eyes. “Do you…? I want to go see him”. Angel had to think for a moment, before he realized what she was saying. “Yeah… Of course”, he said. “You wanna go now?”. Nina nodded fervently, but seemingly nervous that he’d say no.

Angel put the picture in his cut pocket, to keep safe; then got to his feet, and pulled Nina up to stand. “Let’s go”, he said. He looked at the others around the table, and gave them a half smile. “I still need one more person’s blessing”.

---

The sun was about to go down, when they made it to the cemetery. Nina was holding on so hard to Angel’s hand, as they walked down the rows of grave-stones, that he was sure she’d leave marks; but he didn’t say anything – strangely nervous at the situation, and needing her support as much as she needed his. Nina smiled at a few grave-stones they passed, with names like Winston, Knowles and Munson. Angel noticed another stone, with the name John Teller engraved on it. He felt the urge to nod respectfully at it, as Nina stopped for a few seconds, to brush some dead leaves from it.

“It’s up here”, she said in a whisper, and pulled him with her, to a large stone with the Sons of Anarchy A, over the name Jackson Nathaniel Teller. Nina kneeled down in front of it, and held her brother’s helmet in her lap. Giving up on the fight on whether she should use it or not long ago, Angel had added some extra padding to it for her; so that it would at least be safer, than it had been before. “Hi, Jax…”, Nina said. “It’s been a while… I’m sorry about that, but I’ve been kinda busy”. She rubbed her belly protectively. “This is Angel”, she said, and looked up at him, with a warm smile. Angel cleared his throat, unsure what to do. “Hi…”, he muttered. “Yeah, I know… But he’s got a cool bike”, Nina chuckled. Angel frowned in confusion, but decided against commenting on her words. “I kept my promise after all. I’m happy. And everyone is safe… At least, as safe as they can be, as outlaw bikers…”.

She sat quietly for a long moment, and Angel kneeled down next to her; putting an arm around her shoulders. He kissed her check, and tasted the salty taste of her tears on his lips. “You ok?”, he whispered. Nina looked at him, and nodded; a smile on her lips. “Happy tears”, she said, and looked back at the stone. “I went back to school. I’m taking classes to become a paralegal… I wanna try to help the undocumented people the Mayans are moving through the tunnels”. “And she is”, Angel cut in. “She’s doing good work with what she knows, already”. Nina smiled embarrassedly for a moment, before continuing. “I’ve had to take a little break though, ‘cuz of the baby… It’s kind of hard to keep up with online classes, when you gotta pee every 45 minutes. But once she’s here, I‘ll be able to go back part time… I think I’ve found my path, and I have someone holding my hand while I walk it. And we’ve got have a large family – ourlarge family – to support us, whatever might get in our way”.

They were quiet for a moment longer; while Nina brushed her fingertips over the helmet in her lap. “I’ll be ok now, Jax. I promise…”. She lifted the helmet, and pressed a kiss to it, before placing it on the ground in front of the gravestone. She looked at Angel, and wiped her eyes. “Let’s go”.

Angel got to his feet, and went behind Nina, to lift her up to stand. Hand in hand, they began walking back towards the parking lot. “Wait a sec…”, Angel said, and halted. “What?”, Nina said. He pressed a short kiss to her lips. “I’ll be right back”.

He walked back to Jackson’s grave. “Thanks, man… For everything”, he said. He kissed his fingers, and pressed them to the stone; before turning around, and walking back towards to his woman, his daughter, and their future together.

The End.

---

tags: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #ez reyes #coco cruz #sons of anarchy

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just2bubbly · 3 years

Text

Longings and Comm

Masterlist

Summary

"I swear if I could come, I would have been near you in a heartbeat."

Absence always seems to make the heart grow fonder and Cinder and Kai are no different in this vast expanse. After a busy day at work with Lunars, Cinder relies on Kai to make her smile but what happens when unexpected inquiries are made and feelings are slipped off.

Ship: Kaider

Words: 1502 words

Cinder's Perspective

She was so done with everyone. Every single one of them and this headache was killing her and unlike her usual headaches caused as a result of grief. This one was a real fucking headache caused because of annoyance and extreme anger.

She did something very un-queenly, like shouting in her chambers with a colourful string of swear words going in her mind.

1.2.3.4

Like every meeting that had ever happened, this was nothing different. Well, except for the appearances of lunar aristocrats. As if the stars surrounding her knew exactly what she wanted, Kai commed with such perfect timings that she wondered if Iko was behind this. If she was, may God bless her best friend, her only true companion on this entire dreary planet.

"Thank Goodness you commed. I am so angry-"

He chuckled at her loud outburst, mildly interrupting her. She would have glared if it was anyone else but Kai. However, the voice of his chuckle was enough to calm her down.

"Welcome to Royalty Queen Selene!"

"Stop saying it as if I have won a lottery ticket to visit Earth"

"So is that what you are missing? Earth?" he asked with a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You would know," she said, awaiting him to smile one of those shy smiles reserved for her.

"Kai! I miss Earth and people who can't perform bio-electric manipulation. Heck, you don't know how lucky you are! "

"Why?" he asked, his eyebrows quirking as his curiosity peeked in.

"Well, there are many reasons..." she was going to narrate each one of it to him unless he said otherwise.

Noting her long pause for permission, he granted, "Start Cinder, I'm all ears for you today."

'Ah! This guy was too good for his own self' she seemed to exclaim inside her head.

"Let's start then. I would say sit down as there is a long list of reasons. Firstly, these obnoxious Lunars- they are obsessed with fashion and by fashion, I mean an eerie sense of fashion. My eyes are hurt by just looking at them and that's not my individual statement, even Iko agrees. Plus, my cybernetics and the device goes haywire on me trying to pinpoint their true looks every time I glance at them; making it extremely difficult to focus. Secondly, their love to change appearances, like someone might be having blonde hair today and tomorrow they might turn out bald or something like that. I have a hard time remembering people, providing that I have cybernetics it is saying something. I can look through their glamour and see their true appearances but even then I have a hard time recalling them like hell, Luna needs some form of a database so that I or the computer in my brain can memorize all of them. At least earthen leaders have the decency to come dressed up in proper attire. Lunars, one man showed up in pyjamas to the cabinet meetings." She huffed and stopped to catch her breath.

Seeing that she was somewhat done with her ramble for the day, she groaned for what felt like the umpteenth time in the day.

"You have it bad, Cin, I absolutely agree but c'mon you have me and other people to complain to. Besides, how are you?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Sorry to waste your time with my problems. I should not rant like this but my aristocrat citizens are chaotic and useless who loathe agreeing with me." She grumbled.

"You are not alone actually. Vargas and Camilla gave me a headache today but thanks to you I at least have one thing less to worry about"

"And that is?" she inquired.

"Letumosis and Levana, Cinder. How do you seem to forget that you are the revolutionary?" he teasingly asked. It was not like she was fetching compliments just because she was the one who killed Levana. The fact that she was the revolutionary often slipped from her mind if not for Thorne's remarks and a few graceful acknowledgements here and there.

"My court tells me otherwise!"

"Don't listen to those lunar fools, Cinder. You are THE revolutionary. Hero of the entire universe-"

"Stop praising me like some goddess" she cut off him shortly before he decided to go into a full-blown speech about how wonderful she was. Believe her; he had done that at the last annual Peace ball before everyone.

"Besides Emperor how could you call lunars fools before the Queen of Luna? You have lost your fine touch of diplomacy Kaito."

"Well just the way you called them and I quote 'obnoxious Lunars' before a few moments. And don't you worry I'm not losing my fine diplomatic touch anytime sooner. "He joked along.

"Good, it would be a shame if you did." She exclaimed adding to their playful banter.

Soon they fell into a comfortable silence. She had forgotten about her worries, for the time being, thanks to Kai and his very charismatic personality.

"How are you?"

"Uh?" he looked confused because of her out of the blue question.

"I meant how you are doing, like not the meetings and world leaders but just you!" she clarified. It was not likely of Cinder to generally indulge in talking about emotions with anyone. However, Kai had patiently listened to her ramble so she could hear his inner turmoil if any as well.

"Oh," He said for having nothing else to say. Taking his time to answer, he sighed, "I am good, maybe. I dunno, I have never been asked about just myself like this before. I am satisfied with my lot but responsibilities make me jittery. Even then I have Torin who assists me, I am so thankful for having him. Other than that I have a sickening feeling every time I have to attend meetings with world leaders. Yet I am happier in my place than ever before. I know this sounds weird and unintelligible- " He inhaled sharply, stopping in his track, bitting onto his lips.

"Don't worry, Kai. I completely understand the feeling." She assured him. He had completely moved into pessimism within few seconds. Behind the glorious facade of being royalty, sadness and despair are what remains hidden for a long time. Cinder completely understood how it felt to have everything yet feel unhappy about something that you could never have.

She had missed his moist copper-brown eyes but his swiftly moving to rub away the moisture from them did not go unnoticed.

"Hey, it's okay, Kai," she consoled.

She said in a comforting voice, wishing to be near him and just hug him tightly while he cries his heart out.

"No, no. I'm sorry I just feel like crap for a few days and I miss you." He mumbled, his voice becoming husky,

"I miss you too, Kai. I swear if I could come, I would have been near you in a heartbeat." She said, as her synthetic heart continued to long to touch him.

There was some commotion on his end.

"Your Majesty" someone called for him.

"Cinder, I'm sorry to end on a sad note but I have to go. I am fine, don't worry, I will call you tomorrow or maybe tonight, what time is it?" he asked.

"It's 2200 here."

"Okay, so I will call you tomorrow without fail, but sorry now that I have to leave. I am sorry to sadden you with all my feelings-"

"Stop apologizing, Kai. It's completely fine. Besides, it's okay to let it out from time to time."

He was called urgently by someone in the background; making him quicken his pace as he mumbled incoherent words to her.

"I miss you, call you back later. Love-" he said as the comm was ended by him. He had failed to complete his sentence and she contemplated if she should comm him again just to hear him finish his words. However, that would be a foolish thing to do when he seemed to be in so much hurry.

"Love you too, Kai." She said for the ears who would not hear it.

A/N: This was supposed to be fluff, but things took a new turn and I could not undo it. To be honest, I can't imagine Kai and Cinder going through their two years apart relationship without slipping 'I miss you' in any and every conversations.

Your views will be very much appreciated! Be sure to like, reblog and comment if you like it! Tell me if you wanna be tagged!

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ruthoakenshield · 3 years

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Very Good Friends (Chapter 20)

Catch up here: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19]

Reader x Henry Cavill, OC Reader x co-star named Dan

Warning: This tale is for 18+ readers ONLY!!! Mentions of flashbacks: (rape, anal sex, non-con sex, abuse), severe bruising and injury, mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression, humiliation, and some of the good kind of fluff to make us feel better.

Smut (the happy good kind) is here as I promised. In all it’s fluffy, juicy, tantalizing goodness!!! :) :) :)

If ANY of the warnings upset you or make you uncomfortable, DO NOT read below the cut! go find something else to read in this case and if you want to be removed from the taglist for this story, let me know. I won’t be upset, I promise!

If you are okay with reading those things then enjoy the tale below the cut.

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. I do not own Henry nor do I have any personal knowledge of him besides what is common knowledge amongst the Cavillary. Any mistakes and typos are mine, story is not beta-tested.

GIF I got from the tumbler search thingy.

You lay there panting wondering how the hell such a well endowed man can fuck both your holes and not make it hurt when your rapist co-star was half his size and it hurt like hell. You lay there on your belly under Henry, panting and pondering this as he throbbed inside you, filling your ass with his seed.

He moans and cups your breast with his massive, sticky hand. “You okay, Kitten? I didn’t hurt you did I?” he asked. You roll to your side with him and grind your ass against him, making him wince. “Careful, Love, it’s still sensitive.” he says. “You okay?” he asks again.

You nod and lay there still pondering how he did it. “What’s going on in that noggin of yours? I can see the hamster running on it’s wheel.” he says lazily as he plays with your breast and nuzzles your neck.

“How did you do it without me noticing and it not hurting?” you ask. “You're easily twice the thickness and length he was, and it hurt like hell when he took me in both holes, but you did it and it didn’t hurt at all!” you exclaim.

Henry smiles. “It’s all in the way it’s done, Sweetheart. Regardless of the size of the toy or fingers or dick. The holes need to be well lubed, gently and gradually stretched and she has to be adequately relaxed and distracted so she doesn’t tighten up before you can get in there.” he explains as he peppers you with kisses to distract you as he pulls out. You hiss a little as the head of his dick slips out and he gently massages the hole. “Now how about a nice, cool shower so we can get cleaned up?” he suggests, knowing you will have a busy day getting ready for the red carpet.

You nod and roll off the bed. He does the same and you both head to your respective showers.

As each of you shower, you both ponder the last 24 hours and your future. Henry had decided to take a month off for a vacation and planned to spend it on his boat in Greece. He wondered what your plans were. He wanted you to join him. God! Making love to you for a month on his boat sounded like heaven!

As you showered you realized you had nothing in the books since this was your first film. You remember Henry saying he was heading for a vacation for a month somewhere in southern Europe. Something about his boat there. You wished he would invite you to tag along. God! Fucking him was amazing! You didn’t know a man could make you feel the way he does. You thought it was always going to hurt. You couldn’t let this man go. He has ruined you for dating any man ever again.

Climbing out of your showers, you both wondered how to keep this good thing you had going.

You each dried off and threw on your sweats. Henry came back into your room and sat on your bed you had just made. He watched you move around the room getting things cleaned up and put away in preparation for the onslaught of women who were scheduled to come and do your hair, makeup and nails. He wondered what your gown looked like and sat there with a grin. You paused and looked at him. “What?” you asked, your hands on your hips as you stood in front of him.

He looks at you and chuckles. “Just wondering what your gown for tonight looks like.” he says with an impish grin, glancing over to the garment bag hanging in the closet. You chuckle. “Sorry, Bear, you don’t get to see that till we are ready to leave.” you tease.

He grabs your hips and pulls you between his legs. His hands grab your ass, and you giggle. His hand completely covers each ass cheek. He grins and squeezes them. “So, what are you going to do after tonight?” he asks.

You raise your eyebrow. “Not sure, fuck your brains out in the morning, then head out of here. Haven’t decided where I’m going or what I’m gonna do.” you reply. “Nothing in the works for me at the moment.”

Henry grins. “How about you join me for a month’s vacation, and we can enjoy Greece and my private boat?” he asks with a mischievous grin.

“Ahhh, but the question is, would we ever leave the boat and actually see the sights of Greece? Or would I only see the sights of your boat and your Greek god-like body?” you tease as you walk your index and middle fingers up his chest and flick his nose with them.

He grins, “Well, that will depend on if you’re a good girl or not.” he teases back. “Hmmmm. I’ll have to think on it, Bear. I’ll let you know when we get back here tonight.” you tell him, knowing it will keep him on his toes in anticipation all evening long.

He frowns. “You’re gonna make me wait all night for an answer?” he asks incredulously and smacks your ass hard. “Bad kitty!” he teases in mock offense.

“OW!!!” You squeak and rub your ass. You flick his nose again. “Bad Bear!!! Didn’t your Momma teach you patience, and that all good things come to those who wait!?!”

He growls. “I’ve waited long enough for you, Sweetheart. You said you wanted to be my girl. I don't want to lose you and I want you with me so we can have some proper dates. And get to know each other better!” he growls in your ear as he grabs the back of your head and looks you in the eyes, then kisses you and steals your breath away.

You feel him pull you flush against him and your hands instinctively nestle in his curls. You moan and feel yourself succumbing to his charms. You hear a knock at the door and some women laughing on the other side of it. You pull away. “Just a moment!” you call out. Henry grins and tries to pick up where he left off, but you are struggling to get out of his arms. “Hen, let me go! I gotta let them in so I can get ready!” you hiss in his ear.

Henry looks up at you and pouts. “Can I stay and watch?” he asks. You laugh. “Whatever you want, Hen. But you might get hit on by them.” you warn him. He grins and stands, then heads into his room and grabs the newspaper and comes back into your room pretending to read it as you let the women in. He stands in the doorway leaning against the casing, and looks up from the paper. Lowering it just enough to hide the tent in his sweats.

“Hello Ladies!” he greets them. “Come to doll up this fine actress?” he asks with a teasing smile and raised eyebrow.

The women titter and giggle and nod. He grins. “Mind if I hang out? There’s not much on TV and I’m bored.” he teases. They giggle and nod “Go ahead.” one of the gals says with a wink.

Henry chuckles and heads over to the bed by the wall and plops down on it, making sure to keep the newspaper in front of his crotch and out of their view until the hard-on subsides and calms down.

He has fun being entertained by the women doting on you as they seem to have forgotten about him being there as they become engrossed in playing with your hair and doing your manicures and pedicures.

Henry just spends the morning quietly watching them, when he got up to go get his bottle of rosemary water from the hotel fridge, he startled the girls. “Oh my God! We totally forgot you were still here! I’m SO sorry!!!!” they apologized. Henry just laughs and tells them that it’s okay. He was having fun observing.

He spent some time in his room polishing his shoes and setting out his clothes for tonight. Then he came back in to see how things were going. Since it was getting close to lunch time, he offered to get everyone lunch if they could decide on what they wanted. They told him what they wanted to eat, and he left to go get everyone food.

“Oh my Gosh, Y/n, he’s such a hunk! What was it like working with him?” they ask. You giggle and say he was a perfect gentleman.

“So, what did he do when he found out your costar raped you?” one of the girls asked. “Did he go beat him up?” she inquired. You chuckle. “No, he made sure I got checked at the hospital and helped me recover and looked out for me after that. Like I said, a perfect gentleman.” you relate to them.

They giggle and continue to work on your hair and nails.

“Hey, where did these come from?” one of the gals teases as there’s a very clear bite mark on your neck with two small, red scabs. You blush and just smirk. “Was that from Henry?!?! Are you two really getting’ it?!? What’s he like in bed?!?” they start bombarding you with all kinds of questions.

You just chuckle. “I’m not discussing my sex life or lack thereof with anyone.” You defer. “He’s not attacking you is he?” one of the gals asks, frowning. “No.” you reply. “Henry has been nothing but a perfect gentleman.” You assure them. “Don’t worry about it.” you tell them. “Just cover up the hickeys and bite mark and do your jobs and make me look radiant.” You tell them with a giggle.

They laugh and move on with pampering you and covering up the hickeys and the bite mark with the makeup.show

“Hello Ladies!” he greets them. “Come to doll up this fine actress?” he asks with a teasing smile and raised eyebrow.

The women titter and giggle and nod. He grins. “Mind if I hang out? There’s not much on TV and I’m bored.” he teases. They giggle and nod “Go ahead.” one of the gals says with a wink.

Henry chuckles and heads over to the bed by the wall and plops down on it, making sure to keep the newspaper in front of his crotch and out of their view until the hard-on subsides and calms down.

He has fun being entertained by the women doting on you as they seem to have forgotten about him being there as they become engrossed in playing with your hair and doing your manicures and pedicures.

“Oh my Gosh, Y/n, he’s such a hunk! What was it like working with him?” they ask. You giggle and say he was a perfect gentleman.

They giggle and continue to work on your hair and nails.

They laugh and move on with pampering you and covering up the hickeys and the bite mark with the makeup.

#henry cavill #very good friends #reader oc #kitten and the Bear #Red Carpet prep #making plans #fluff and smut #pampering #make him wait #getting ready #flirting

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

Breakable Heaven (pt. IV) - p.l. dubois

part I part II part III

Oh my gosh, I seriously can’t believe this little series has come to an end. I’m so so happy with how it’s turned out, and want to thank anyone who’s stuck with Laurel and Pierre-Luc throughout this month. It’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever done, and it’s yours to enjoy now. Please please let me know what you think of this part, what you think about the series - getting anon comments is amazing, my inbox is always open, and I LOVE reading tags. Reblog if you like what I’m putting out, it helps me know that!

Warning: Smut (It’s light, but it’s there, so no one under 18 please!)

Part IV (7.8k)

September 23 (thurs)

Laurel was running through the Toronto airport, her carry-on bag bouncing on the tile behind her as she frantically searched for her gate. Thank God Air Canada domestic flew from the international terminal; her layover was only an hour and ten minutes and even more time had been shaved off by a departure delay in Montréal. She had forgotten that flights from Toronto cleared U.S. Customs in Canada, and if she hadn’t been able to skip the line and slap her American passport on a kiosk reader she would have almost certainly missed her connection.

No matter how many times Laurel had tried to insist on an economy ticket when she and Pierre were booking flights for her visits, he refused to cave. “They don’t include a checked bag in economy, but they do if you fly business,” he had said, shrugging, with a small smile on his face. “Baggage fees alone would make it pretty much a wash.” Laurel doubted that, and she doubted that she’d need a checked bag for a four-day trip, but her husband had made it clear that he wasn’t budging.

So needless to say, she was more than a little bit out of breath as she finally arrived at Gate F66, which was conveniently almost as far away from her arrival gate as humanly possible while still being in the same terminal. She handed her boarding pass and passport to the gate agent, smiling apologetically as she hurried down the jetbridge. It was barely past noon, but there was nothing in the world Laurel wanted more than to sleep. Maintaining a full-time schedule at the hospital while also trying to organize a trip to Columbus that lasted more than two days meant she had to switch shifts. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue; that week, however, the only open slot was the 12-hour overnight shift on Wednesday. Which meant that she’d been awake for some twenty hours straight, but almost all of that had been on her feet at work, or walking from the parking lot to the check-in counter in Montréal, or running through the halls of Pearson Airport in Toronto. She took her seat, half-listened to the safety briefing, and passed out as soon as her head hit the headrest.

Much to her chagrin, the flight itself was only just over an hour, and she was really only able to get in a generous nap before their descent into Ohio. Sitting in the second row, she exited the plane in record time, flicking her phone off of airplane mode and waiting for a text from Pierre-Luc. At least she didn’t have to go through TSA again. He wrote back in record time, letting her know he’d be in his car at the curb right outside the terminal. She waited at baggage claim, grabbing her forest green suitcase; the same one she had when she’d moved to Toronto for university, fresh-faced and 18 and so, so unaware of what the world had in store for her. If only she could see herself now. Laurel ran her thumb along the side handle for a moment, pulling at a loose thread, before hefting it onto the floor and turning towards the sliding exit doors.

As promised, Pierre was waiting right outside the door, flashing her a bright smile and throwing the driver’s side door open as soon as he saw her. “Welcome to Columbus, babe!” he exclaimed, wrapping Laurel into a deep hug and kissing her on the cheek.

She laughed as the trunk popped open, each of them grabbing a suitcase. “It’s a little bit funny, don’t you think? That I’ve lived in the Midwest for almost my whole life and the first time I go to Ohio it’s because I’m living in Canada?”

“Maybe just a little bit,” Pierre said, holding his thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart. “I’m really happy you were able to come, though, Laurel. I got used to having you around.” His face was softer now, looking over at Laurel with an expression that wasn’t quite placable but seemed like it was somehow communicating so much in a single glance.

“Me too,” Laurel replied. The ride to Pierre’s Columbus apartment took just over ten minutes, and Laurel was in the door, petting the dogs, before the clock struck 3:00.

Pierre approached her from behind, his hands on her shoulders as he leaned around to kiss her on the cheek. “You want to take a nap?” he asked. “We’ve got that thing with the team at 7, and I know you’re probably running on fumes right now.”

Laurel nodded, giving him a weary smile, dropping her bag on the floor of the master bedroom with an all-too-satisfying thump. “Nap sounds good.”

---

The nap was good, so good, and Laurel woke up at half past 6 feeling like she’d just had the best sleep of her life. She yawned, rubbing her eyes, and looked around the room to see Pierre with his back towards her, buttoning up his shirt. He turned around, catching her eye, and grinned. “You like the view?” he asked, gesturing to his half-naked torso.

Laurel rolled her eyes, pulling the sheets up to poorly conceal her embarrassment at being caught. “And if I do?”

She heard a loud laugh, peeking her head out from under. “I’d say my wife has every right to appreciate it.” He walked around the bed while fastening the last few buttons, holding his hand out for Laurel to take. “I let you sleep as long as I could, but we’re going to have to get going in fifteen minutes or so. I was told that ‘we’ve waited this long to meet her, the least you could do is get your damn wife to the party in time,’” he said, adding air quotes for emphasis.

Laurel nodded, tossing back the covers and walking over to her suitcase, intending to rifle through the stacks of clothes to find something for the night’s festivities. Instead, she was greeted by an empty bag. She wheeled around to look at Pierre, who was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at her suitcase. “I unpacked your stuff,” he said, nodding over towards the spare dresser. “It’s in there. I’m sorry if that seems weird and I won’t do it again if you feel like that was pushing your boundaries, but I know for me when I’m on roadies I like to unpack, even if it’s just one night. Makes it feel more like home.”

Laurel was too overcome with how sweet the gesture was, small as it may have been, to realize that that meant he had touched four days worth of bras and underwear. It shouldn’t have bothered him anyways, and if he hadn’t said anything about it, it clearly hadn’t. So instead, she pulled him into a warm hug, standing on her tiptoes to bury her face in the crook of his neck. “Thank you, P. One less thing I have to do.”

“You do still have to actually get dressed, though,” he added, giving her sleepwear an appreciative once-over. “Unless you’re planning on wearing that.”

She let out a giggle. “As much as I love wearing a massive Cloquet High Lumberjacks t-shirt and no pants, somehow I don’t think that’s the move,” she said, ambling over towards the dresser. She found the tops on the first try, pulling out a wine-colored wrap shirt and grabbing the same pair of light-wash jeans she had worn on the plane. Pierre moved to duck out of the room, presumably to give her privacy to change. Laurel made a split-second decision to call after him. “You don’t have to leave.” Pierre stopped in his tracks.

Laurel slipped the shirt on, tying it in the front, and fastened her jeans. Mascara on and booties zippered, and she was good to go. “So what is this thing, anyways?” she asked Pierre as they drove to Foligno’s house.

Pierre tilted his head. “Little bit of this, little bit of that. Half the typical beginning-of-the-year preseason party, half the wedding reception we never had. They were very insistent on bringing gifts, so be prepared.”

“Will do,” she said, laughing. “And by they, you mean…”

“Some of the guys, but mostly the wives and girlfriends. Their parties are the stuff of legends, so you can imagine how excited everyone was when I told them we never had a proper reception.”

“But they don’t know why we didn’t have a proper party,” Laurel reminded him.

“About that…” Pierre started, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Laurel froze, her thumb hovering over her phone screen, halfway through composing a text to Kristen. “Pierre,” she swallowed, her voice deadly soft, “did you tell someone?”

---

It was the Saturday before, and the team had gone out to celebrate the end of the first week of training camp. Sunday was an off day, so Saturday night found all the over-21s — and anyone who could get a good enough fake — at a bar in the city. Pierre had just crossed the line into tipsy, and as his captain was about to find out, tipsy Pierre was an oversharer. It was common enough for families to be a topic of discussion on nights out or in the locker room; that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that, as the old adage goes, drunk words are sober thoughts. And, if he was being honest, Pierre was still harboring some guilt from having to hide the truth of his and Laurel’s marriage from everyone, Nick included. Pierre hated that he couldn’t tell Nick the truth. He was his captain and his friend, and he felt the least he owed to him was not to lie.

“It’s just so weird being away from Laurel, away from Montréal, for this long,” Pierre sighed.

“Sure,” Nick said sympathetically, “but you said you’d been friends for a few years, so you’ve had feelings for her for a while, no? It’s obviously not ideal, but you’ve been away from her for longer.”

Pierre turned towards Nick, some of his beer — his fourth of the night — spilling out of the cup. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Nick rolled his eyes, thinking he was going to be hearing some dumb high school confession, that he had asked out a senior girl when he was a freshman, or filled his QMJHL captain’s gloves with shaving cream or something. He didn’t expect what he heard next.

“We got married so she could stay in the country, for her permanent residency. I never met her before June.”

Nick sucked in a breath. “You’re not fucking with me, are you?”

“Nope.”

“You realize how much trouble you guys could get into if they figure out, right?” he asked.

Pierre nodded, looking down at his clasped hands nervously. “We both do. But you’re not going to tell anyone, right?”

“No, of course not,” Nick said. “I trust you, and I know you and Laurel were just doing what you thought was the best and most logical thing given the circumstances.” Pierre let out a somber nod. “But,” he continued, “I feel like this whole...situation just leaves open the opportunity for things to get really messy really quickly.”

“Messy how?” Pierre asked.

Nick shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking at a spot just beyond Pierre’s head. He didn’t want to, not really, but it was his job as Pierre’s captain — more importantly as his friend — to make him consider every angle. “Someone catching feelings, one of you falling for the other, or God forbid, someone else. There’s already so much at stake in a ‘normal’ marriage, but yours just has added complications.” Pierre felt a twinge in his heart. He didn’t want to admit it, he really didn’t want to admit it, but Nick was right. “Do you love her?” Nick asked softly.

Pierre sunk back into his chair. “I don’t know. She means a lot to me, more than I ever thought she would, but I don’t know. Plus, I have no clue how she feels about me, and I wouldn’t want to say something like that only to have her pull away.”

“Did you guys talk about that?” he asked.

“About what?” Pierre responded.

“About what would happen if one of you caught feelings. Because I’m assuming it was supposed to, is supposed to, be a strictly platonic thing.”

Pierre shrugged. “Not really. We didn’t like make a pact or anything, if that’s what you’re asking. We really didn’t talk much about it at all,” he said, finishing his beer. “I mean, obviously we agreed that we wouldn’t be seeing anyone else, dating or hooking up or anything like that. It was just too risky. But no, we never really addressed how we’d deal with it if one of us ended up...falling for each other. I guess it was just supposed to be a ‘we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it’ type of thing.”

“And have you come to it?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know.”

---

Pierre finished the story, hazarding a glance over to Laurel, who was wringing her hands as she looked out the windshield. “I’m not mad at you,” she said finally. “If Nick said he wouldn’t tell, I trust you when you say he won’t. One of us was bound to let it slip eventually.”

He turned his eyes back towards the road, still feeling a pang of regret. She was almost being too good to him. “We’ll be okay,” he said, saying it just as much to himself as he did to her.

Laurel gave him a small smile as they pulled into the Foligno’s house, parking on the stone-paved driveway. “We will be.”

Janelle opened the door practically the second after they knocked, greeting Pierre and Laurel with warm hugs. “Laurel, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she said, squeezing her hand. “We know how hard it is to find the time off and make the trip down, and everyone’s excited to see you.” She led them through the entryway to the living room, where Laurel was passed around to some twenty-odd players and their partners, where she introduced herself over and over again as “Pierre’s wife, yes the nurse from Minnesota who none of you knew existed.”

Dinner was a barbeque outside, Nick, Pierre, and some of the others manning the three grills as Laurel helped set up the drinks table. He held her hand under the table as they ate, his thumb gently rubbing across her thigh every so often in reassurance. “You good?” he murmured in his ear as Laurel sipped a beer, half-listening to some story Korpi was telling about a near-miss incident with a water ski back in Finland during the summer.

Laurel nodded, squeezing his fingers. “I’m good.”

Plates were cleared, dishes were washed, and everyone was herded into Nick and Janelle’s enormous family room, where a small mountain of wrapped boxes and bags sat in the far corner. “I don’t know if you know this,” Janelle said conspiratorially as Laurel sat down, “but NHLers make more than a little money.”

She laughed. “So I’ve been told.”

“Which means that, clueless though they may be, you’re going to be getting some very nice presents.”

And very nice presents they were. A wine club membership, a set of dutch ovens from Seth — “It was my mom’s suggestion” — Jones, an espresso machine from Boone, a set of matching, personalized dog bowls for Phil, Georgia, and Piper. Laurel honestly wasn’t sure how it was all going to fit in the car, let alone how she was going to manage to stay under the baggage limit on her way back to Canada, but the thought and kindness that went into each gift was what really made it special.

“From me and the other girls,” Janelle said, passing Laurel a bag.

“Oh, this is too much,” Laurel said. “You already got the knives and the mixer, I don’t need anything else.”

Cam’s wife, Natalie, shrugged. “Would it help if we made it, didn’t buy it?”

Laurel’s brow furrowed in confusion, her fingers moving to undo the ribbon that tied the handles together, taking out the tissue paper. “Oh!” she gasped quietly as she pulled out a denim jacket, a Blue Jackets logo ironed onto the back, Dubois embroidered where a name bar would be. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“You’re still a part of the family,” Natalie said, smiling. “Even if you’re not here all the time. We want you to feel as included as anyone else.”

Laurel folded up the jacket carefully, tucking it back in the bag as Josh walked up to Pierre, holding out a small box, clearly wrapped by himself. “Well now I just feel silly.”

Pierre shook his head, smiling at his friend. “Don’t, Josh. I’m sure we’ll love it.” He thumbed open the folds on the wrapping paper, setting it aside before pulling off the top of the box. He fell silent.

Laurel peeked over, trying to catch a glimpse of the box’s contents. “What is it, P?”

Instead of answering, Pierre just held the box upside-down. Condoms of all colors and sizes rained down onto the hardwood floor as Pierre stared at Josh, clearly trying very hard not to laugh. The side of his mouth twitched. “Interesting choice of gift, you don’t think?” he asked.

Josh shrugged helplessly, his cheeks red. “It’s practical?”

November 28 (sun)

Laurel caught every Blue Jackets game she could on the TV, even the ones in early November when Pierre was out for a few games with a mild concussion. She was his wife, but she was also a nurse, and made sure to get daily updates on his condition, restraining herself from FaceTiming him to help limit his amount of daily screen time. But he had been back for a few weeks, making second star of the night with a goal and an assist, so naturally he was pulled away for a few postgame interviews.

Laurel watched the screen, trying not to get distracted by the sweat drenching his Underarmour. Reporters, the good ones at least, were usually considerate with steering clear of asking personal questions, but sometimes an injury, or the birth of a child, or, as luck would have it, a wedding, begged an answer. “So, Pierre, I think a lot of us were surprised to see you announce on Instagram that you had gotten married this summer. Congratulations, by the way,” the journalist from the Dispatch said.

“Thanks,” Pierre replied, smiling.

“And I hope I speak for everyone here when saying that we entirely respect you and your wife’s decision to keep things quiet and announce it in a much more subdued fashion than usual. Players often speak a lot about how integral support from family and friends is, and just how important it is to have that kind of a support system in place.” Pierre could see where the question was going. “Obviously you’ve got the boys down here, but it doesn’t look like your wife Laurel is based in Columbus like you are. Is there a reason for that, and do you think that’s affected your game?”

Pierre sucked in a breath; it was a fair question, and a reasonable assumption to make, but that didn’t mean he liked answering it any more. But it was almost suspicious how quickly he had an answer. “Uh, yeah, it’s been interesting for us to have to navigate. You’re right, Laurel’s back in Montréal, she spends most of her time at our place in the city. She’s a nurse in the intensive care unit of CHU Saint-Justine, so she does pediatrics there. She loves what she does, and she’s so good at it, and it just wouldn’t be right of me to ever ask or expect her to leave on my account. I know we’ve got a great hospital at Nationwide Children’s, but she loves where she is. We both do. So yeah, it’s rough being away sometimes, but luckily she’s able to move shifts around and make it down twice a month or so when we’re not on the road. But we keep in contact daily, obviously, and I’m able to lean on the guys, especially the other married ones, on how to deal with the stress of being away for so long. But it’s rough. I miss my wife,” Pierre finished.

Laurel clicked the remote, turning the TV off, her hand scratching behind Piper’s ears, and tried not to replay his words in her mind as she crawled into bed and fell asleep.

December 18 (sat)

Laurel stumbled through the door of Pierre’s Columbus apartment, laughing breathlessly as she tried to lock the deadbolt. “You need some help there, L?” Pierre asked, raising one eyebrow.

“I’m good,” Laurel said, taking two more tries before it would actually lock. The eggnog from the Christmas party was starting to take its toll; Pierre had agreed to be the pair’s designated driver for the night, so she had had maybe a glass too many. The night had genuinely been so much fun, Laurel had initially been worried at how well she might fit in with the group in a more casual situation. As much as she loved being able to hang out with the team and the other WAGs when she was in Ohio — and she did — she couldn’t help but be nervous that she didn’t have the same level of camaraderie that could help turn a night from good to great. Laurel couldn’t have been happier to be wrong. She was embraced from the moment she walked in the door, a glass of wine pushed into her hand and her Secret Santa gift deposited on the entryway table.

Laurel used to always roll her eyes at the idea that “time flies when you’re having fun,” but that couldn’t have been more true for the party. It seemed like only minutes had passed, but suddenly it was almost midnight, and the couples with kids had to head home to relieve the babysitters, and Laurel and Pierre were headed home.

“Let’s get some water in you, no?” Pierre murmured, walking to the kitchen and opening the cupboard.

“Thanks,” Laurel said softly as she took the glass from him, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet under her on the couch.

Pierre perched on the arm, absentmindedly playing with his watch. But while a tipsy Pierre was an oversharer, a tipsy Laurel was always emotional in one fashion or another. “How’d you like the party?”

“It was great,” Laurel said. “I’m not sure why Alexandre thought I’d be into a Blue Jackets scarf, but I guess it’s the thought that counts?” She pulled the offending object out of her bag, running her fingers through the fringe on the edge. “Seeing how amazing so many of those couples are, Janelle and Nick especially, it was awesome…” She trailed off. “But it was hard.”

His brow furrowed. Why would it be hard? “How so?”

“I always thought that, when I got married, it would be once and that was it.” She screwed her eyes shut. “And that’s not to mean I’m not grateful for what you’ve done, it’s so incredible and goes so far beyond just plain kindness. I just thought it would be a forever thing.”

Pierre’s heart dropped. Of course she’d feel like that. If marriage was something she wanted to take that seriously, how could she not feel like she was cheapening its meaning by treating it as nothing more than an arrangement of convenience? It wasn’t even like he felt any differently; hockey was obviously still his first priority most of the time, but he’d always seen himself as someone who wanted to settle down and have a family one day. He guessed that he just hadn’t let himself think about it. “Laurel,” he said quietly, reaching out to her. But she wasn’t done.

“It’s just,” Laurel sighed, one hand tugging on her hair, tears threatening to escape her eyes, “knowing this is all temporary. Knowing that in a couple of y-years, when I g-get my citizenship and we get d-divorced, this is all going to end,” she said, hiccuping through her words. “I won’t be able to come to your Christmas parties and fly down for games and sit up in the WAG box with my friends and that jacket and a jersey with your name on it. I won’t be able to do any of that any more because it wasn’t real, it wasn’t ever real, and that fucking kills me inside, P.” Laurel sat on the corner of the couch, a spot as precarious as the words tumbling out of her mouth.

“Why?” Pierre asked, even though if he was honest, he’d stake his career on the belief that he already knew the answer. “Why would it hurt so bad?” His voice was so quiet that if Laurel hadn’t been sitting two feet away, she wouldn’t have heard.

“Because I’m fucking in love with you,” she whispered. “And that’s the single most terrifying sentence I’ve ever said in my life.” Even though Pierre somehow knew that’s what she was going to say all along, it didn’t stop her words from stealing the breath out of his lungs. Laurel looked up at him through her tears, her eyes beginning to redden. “Say something, please, P.”

Pierre knelt in front of her, his thumb resting gently on her cheek, wiping away her tears. “God, Laur, how could I not be in love with you?” She blinked rapidly at him, trying to process the words that were coming out of his mouth. “I wasn’t lying when I said you were one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. You’re so caring, not just for me, but for everyone in your life. You’d give a stranger the shirt off of your back. You’re probably the smartest person I know, way smarter than me.” A giggle escaped Laurel’s mouth. “The dedication you show to everything in your life is amazing. At your job, you treat every patient like they were your own sibling or your own child. You make the trip down to Columbus once a month, twice a month. That’s not easy, all the flight time and having to leave Piper and switching shifts around so we can see each other. You’re gorgeous, not just on the outside — though you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen — but the light in your eyes when you talk about a new book you read, or how happy you look when you let me taste a new recipe you’re trying, or how passionate you get when you see something wrong and know there’s something you need to do to change it. So what if we’re doing things a little backwards? First comes marriage, then comes love.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I fell in love with you awhile ago. I think it just took me a second to realize it.”

January 26 (wed)

Laurel thought the distance and space between them would be easier now that she knew how he felt, now that they both knew how they felt. She couldn’t have been more wrong. So the All-Star break, and the Blue Jackets’ bye week, couldn’t have come at a better time. Pierre had made plans for the break a few months earlier, but after everything that happened over Christmas, it didn’t seem right to ditch Laurel for a boy’s trip with Alexandre and Seth. So Hilton Head was traded in for Saint Lucia, and his teammates were traded in for his wife. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Laurel was using three of her paid vacation days and Pierre was able to make the schedule work just right to get five nights in the Carribean. “A belated honeymoon, if you will,” he had said, cracking a grin over FaceTime as they booked the flights. The flight from Columbus was much less straightforward than hers from Montréal, but by a chance airline scheduling his first layover was in Toronto. Laurel met him at the gate, hauling her own green suitcase behind her as he flung his arms around her, kissing her with everything he had in him. They may have missed the not-so-subtle fans taking pictures that later circulated around Twitter that may or may not have led to some grade A chirping in the team’s group chat. But Pierre didn’t care. He cared that for a few days, he could forget about the stress of hockey and trying to make a playoff run and all the rumors floating around and just be with his wife. And, Pierre thought as they walked through the airport door into the Carribean sun, there really wasn’t anything else he wanted.

They hailed a taxi, the twenty minute drive to their resort rushing by in a blur of palm trees and seas so blue Laurel thought she could fall into them just by looking. Pierre jogged into the main office to check them in, coming back with their key cards before the taxi continued on its way, dropping them off in front of their villa. Laurel spun slowly as they got out of the car, smiling up at the sky as Pierre pressed a few bills into the taxi driver’s hand with a nod of thanks. “You okay there?” he asked with a grin.

“It’s so warm,” Laurel said in wonderment. Even in January, the weather in Saint Lucia hovered in the mid-70s, a far cry from the twenties and teens of a Montréal winter. Laurel was no stranger to the cold — Cloquet had seen temperatures pushing thirty below when Laurel was in high school — but the idea that she could be somewhere and wear shorts while it was snowing in her hometown was a concept so novel she hadn’t quite grasped it yet.

He nodded, looking at Laurel with a gaze so soft she thought her heart would maybe burst. “We’re in the Caribbean, L. It’s warm all the time.”

She rolled her eyes, bending over to get her suitcase, but not before Pierre snatched it up himself, holding the key card between two fingers. “Are you going to just stand there, or do you want to check out our honeymoon suite?” Laurel’s words dripped with suggestiveness, her sandal-clad feet dragging their way up the path to the villa with tantalizing languor.

“Coming.”

Even after the six months of their marriage, and even after everything that happened over the holidays, they hadn’t had sex. They’d gotten close a few times, both on her trip in December and in ones since, but never managed to go all the way. First Laurel needed a new birth control prescription — the last thing she would do would be have sex without being extra safe about it — and then she was too tired after a night out, and another time Pierre had scored a hat trick and they had partied way too hard to even think about sex. So needless to say, it had been a while for Laurel since she’d gotten release by any hands other than her own, and even longer for Pierre. And it certainly wasn’t because she didn’t want to. Laurel was well aware that her husband was hot as fuck, and she’d be lying if some of her lonelier nights weren’t filled with thoughts of exactly what she wanted him to do to her. But it felt different than any of her other relationships. Obviously, it felt different, she hadn’t been married to Oliver or Ryan or Carter. And that didn’t mean she wasn’t invested in those, but just that the stakes were so much higher and she had fallen so much harder for Pierre than she ever thought imaginable. She didn’t want to have sex with him until she was sure. Sure that it was going somewhere, sure that it would last, sure that he loved her in the same way that made her heart ache every time he dropped her off at Columbus International Airport.

---

By the time they had unpacked, eaten, and gotten a few rum punches in their system, it was well past 7 and the sun had long since set. Laurel peeked out the door onto their balcony, nodding at the private plunge pool. “We’ve got quite the setup here.”

She walked over to the dresser, grabbing a swimsuit out and crossing over to the bathroom, her hand hovering over the knob. “Just something to think about.” Pierre put his swim trunks on in record time. Laurel padded out of the bathroom, the top straps of her bikini dangling, the swell of her breasts peeking above the cups. “Do me up?” she asked.

Pierre’s fingers brushed the baby hairs at the base of her neck as he tied the straps of her white-hot bikini. “Sure you don’t want to go out to the beach?”

Their villa came with a stretch of beachfront, and it seemed like such a shame to let it go to waste. Laurel shook her head, a smile playing on the edge of her lips. “We’ve got a couple of days to enjoy the beach. I’d like to stay somewhere a little more...secluded.” She bit her lip as she opened the door to the balcony, dipping her toes in the pool and sighing at the warmth of the water. Laurel looked back at Pierre, one eyebrow raised. “You coming?” Pierre couldn’t follow fast enough.

They stayed in the water for a while, lazily kissing and staring at the stars and sipping drinks that had lost their potency hours ago, but neither of them really cared much. Sometime during the night, Laurel had made her way onto Pierre’s lap, where she reached over to the balcony, lofting herself out of the pool and wrapping a scarf around her body. “Getting a little cold,” she said, bending down and giving him a soft kisss. She walked into the room, drying herself off; he followed. Laurel threw the towel over a chair in the corner of the room, walking over towards Pierre, stopping when their noses were almost touching.

Laurel’s wrap fell from her shoulders, pooling on the wood floor. Pierre’s hand skated up her arm to rest on her cheek. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She stood on her tiptoes as her left hand tangled in his hair, her right pressed against the back of his neck. She whimpered into his mouth; it took everything in Pierre’s power to keep the blood from rushing south. The kiss got more frantic, tongue and teeth clashing against each other as he walked her back to the bed. The back of her knees bumped up against the edge.

Pierre pulled away slightly, letting out a moan as he saw Laurel’s face. Her lips were puffy from kissing, her chest heaving with the force of her breath, and her wild hair had long since been taken out of its ponytail. In other words, Pierre was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that Laurel, in that moment, was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “You sure you want to do this?” Pierre murmured. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. But he’d never do anything without making sure that she was absolutely comfortable. Laurel nodded, biting her lip. “I need to hear you say it, babe,” Pierre said, taking a step forward, their noses almost touching.

“I want you to ruin me.”

Pierre audibly groaned, capturing her lips in his before throwing her back on the bed, his hand moving to her back to undo the tie of her bikini top as his lips trailed down her neck. He threw the top off to one side, paying exactly zero attention to where it landed, as his hands slid up her waist to cup her breasts, his thumbs ghosting over her sensitive nipples. Laurel’s breath hitched in her throat. “You like that, baby?”

“Mhm,” Laurel whimpered, unable to form a complete sentence.

He smirked, lowering his mouth to her chest, flicking his tongue over her right nipple as his hand pinched her left. The air was filled with breathless sighs from them both until Pierre’s hands left her breasts. Laurel whined in protest until she felt his fingers toying with her bikini bottoms, his head lifting just enough so that his eyes could meet hers. “This okay?”

It was all Laurel could do to choke out a single word. “Please.”

Pierre pulled them down her legs, kissing down, down to her hips, down to her inner thighs, down to everywhere except for where she needed him. “You need something, Laurel?” Pierre asked, his voice dripping with sex.

Laurel groaned, not wanting to give in but also knowing that Pierre could stay where he was for hours if it meant teasing her. “Your mouth.”

“As you wish.” And then his tongue was on her, and in her, and she couldn’t help but let out a moan. And Pierre was loving every second of it. He stayed down there for a while, long enough to finish her twice.

Laurel pushed on his shoulder, trying to get him to turn on his back so she could return the favor. Pierre shook his head as he shucked his shorts off, pulling her head down to kiss her roughly. “I’m going to cum right here if I don’t get inside you in the next two minutes, babe.” He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a condom. “Guess I’ll have to thank Josh for these when we get back home.”

She raised one eyebrow, clearly unamused. “If you do that, I can promise you I’ll never put your dick in my mouth. Not now, not ever.”

Pierre held his hands up in surrender, the foil packet shining between two fingers. “Alright, alright. I won’t.” He paused just before bringing the wrapper up to his teeth. “You want this?”

Laurel nodded frantically as he rolled the condom down his length. He looked so hard it was painful. “So bad.” He leaned down to kiss her, propped up on one arm as he pushed into her, hair falling into his face as he closed his eyes. He was too blissed out to be able to focus on anything other than how good she felt around him, how tight and warm and how well she fit, like Laurel Elizabeth Klerken was made for him and him alone.

“More,” Laurel cried softly, and that was all it took for Pierre to grab one of her legs, throwing it around his hips as he increased his pace, head dropping to her neck as he nipped at her pulse points. It didn’t take long for Pierre to reach his high, Laurel right behind him. He pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead before getting up from the bed, going into the bathroom to tie off the condom and grab a washcloth. He cleaned up between her legs as Laurel lay there, trying to steady her breathing, absolutely spent from the night’s three orgasms. “Why didn’t we do that earlier?” Laurel murmured.

Pierre laughed, throwing the cloth in the laundry basket and tilting down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “I don’t know. But it was worth it.”

February 20 (mon)

Laurel had learned early on in her relationship with Pierre that she couldn’t put much stock into what was said on Twitter. Or Instagram, or any social media for that matter. So much was speculation: about draft picks, about trade rumors, about Pierre-Luc Dubois’ secret wife, that it just wasn’t useful or healthy for her so spend much time looking around. She still had her accounts, but Instagram was the only one she went on with any regularity nowadays. And she rarely checked her phone during the work day anyways; unless it was an unusually slow day — which was never a good sign in the medical world — the only time she was even able to spare a glance was during her lunch break or when she’d run to the bathroom. So when her phone buzzed with a text from Pierre as she sat at the nurses’ station, her brow furrowed as she unlocked the screen.

Are you free right now? I need to call you.

Laurel bit her lip, nerves threatening to boil over. He knew her schedule, he knew she was at work. What could be so important that it couldn’t wait? Are you okay? Did something happen?

He typed a response as soon as her text showed as delivered. I’m not hurt, it’s not bad, really, I just need to tell you something and I don’t want to have to do it over text.

Laurel checked her watch. 11:18. It was early for a lunch break, but as long as she wasn’t needed, she could take her half hour any time between 11 and 1. She caught the eye of her charge nurse. “Claudette? I’m taking my lunch if that’s alright with you.” Claudette nodded, and Laurel quickly made her way to the locker room to grab her leftover pasta, texting Pierre on the way. Headed to the changing room now. Are you going to tell me what this is about?

Her phone rang a minute later, when she had just closed the door. She tapped the green button. “You’re going to have to tell me what’s going on here, P, because I’m kind of freaking out,” Laurel said, laughing nervously. “You don’t tell a girl what to expect, she starts assuming the worst.”

Pierre let out a heavy breath. She could imagine him running a hand through his hair on the other end. “I know, and I’m sorry if I worried you. I just needed to tell you before it breaks.”

“Before what breaks, Pierre?” Laurel’s anxiety was coming to a head.

“I’m coming home.”

Laurel screwed her eyes shut, even more confused than she was before. “Yeah, Pierre, I know you’re playing here next week. Why would that be news?”

“When’s the trade deadline, Laurel?”

“Last Monday in February, but I don’t see what that has…” She pulled the phone away from her ear, looking down at the screen, eyes locking on the date. “You got traded?”

She could imagine him sitting down on the edge of his couch, one hand dangling off the side, Georgia trying to jump up and goad him into giving her a pet or two. “They’re breaking it right before the noon deadline, but you deserved to know before everyone else did. You needed to know.”

Laurel leaned up against her locker, hand over her mouth. “You’re coming to Montréal?” She had seen it mentioned offhand on a few Twitter accounts she followed the handful of times she had logged on in the past week, but nobody thought it would actually happen. Even the concept of trading him seemed so far-fetched with the type of season he was having in Columbus. He was sitting near 30 goals and 40 assists, with one of the best plus-minus scores on the team. It just didn’t make sense.

“As of twenty minutes ago, I’m officially a Montréal Canadien,” Pierre answered.

“Oh God,” Laurel said, sympathy lacing her voice. She couldn’t let herself be excited, wouldn’t let herself be excited, until she knew exactly how Pierre felt about it. He had just been uprooted from the team that drafted him, where he’d played for four seasons and made friends and where everyone saw him as the future of the franchise.

Pierre let out a single laugh. “They let me know what the deal was, apparently Montréal really wanted me. First round pick next year, a second-year defenseman, some prospect from Laval.”

Laurel settled on the bench, tucking the phone under her chin. “Of course they really wanted you, P. You’re an incredible player, you’d be an asset to any team and you’re going to do great things in Montréal.” She paused. “But how are you feeling about the move? I know it’s not what you were expecting. Or what anyone was expecting, really.”

“It’s weird,” Pierre said after a moment. “Obviously yeah, I won’t lie, it’s a shock. But almost every player, even the really good ones, get traded at one point or another. Gretzky was traded to L.A.”

“Are you comparing yourself to Gretzky?” Laurel asked playfully.

“No,” Pierre chuckled. “But just trying to remind myself that it was almost inevitable. I’m allowed to be sad about it — and I am, it’s going to fucking suck leaving the boys — but I’m not as torn up as I thought I’d be if this ever happened.” He felt more than a little bad about it, but his first thought when his agent called and broke the news wasn’t sadness, it wasn’t despair at having to leave the team he had been brought up in and the men he considered his brothers. It was relief. Relief that he could be closer to his family, relief that he’d be back with Laurel, relief that he was going home. “And hey,” he said, catching Laurel’s attention. “You know what?”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “What?”

“I don’t even have to marry someone to move.”

---

Pierre’s flight got in late Tuesday night, just after Laurel’s shift at the hospital had ended. He had said he wouldn’t mind taking an Uber home so she didn’t have to rush over and stress about traffic, but Laurel didn’t care. She wanted to be at the airport to pick up her husband, even if it meant she’d still be in her scrubs doing it.

She saw him exiting the sliding doors of the international terminal before she even turned the corner, practically slamming her car into park as soon as she hit the curb. Pierre dropped his bags when her car door opened, paying no attention to the thump of the suitcases as they hit the ground or the wandering eyes of passersby. Airports hadn’t always been his favorite place. They meant leaving the people he loved, going away from what was warm and familiar and safe. They usually meant uncertainty. But that had changed, Pierre thought, as his wife jumped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as their lips met. Airports might just have become one of his favorite places. He pulled back from the kiss, their foreheads just barely touching. “Hi,” he said.

Laurel smiled, the kind of smile that lit up rooms and made crying babies giggle and that Pierre was pretty sure was his favorite thing he’d ever seen in the world. “Welcome home.”

#hockey imagine #pierre luc dubois #hockey smut #hockey imagines #hockey writing #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nhl writing #nhl #Pierre-Luc Dubois #pierre-luc dubois imagine #columbus blue jackets

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thomasxsides · 4 years

Text

Snake-Imposed Self-Care

Fandom: Sanders Sides Ship: Thomceit Words: 2,425 Rating: M for Mature/X for Explicit/A for Adult (only read if you’re 18+) Warnings: reptile anatomy, smut Characters: Character!Thomas, Janus Sanders Additional Tags: fluff, “self-care” and by that I mean Janus is the one taking care of c!Thomas, handjobs, mutual (?) handjobs, Janus teaches Thomas how to touch him, thigh worship A/N: This is based on prompts sent to me by @theprincey and an Anon. I decided to combine the two (pictured) into one story. Enjoy :) Also, Janus’ lies are shown in bold. Please remember, reblogs get a lot farther than likes so if you really like my work, consider reblogging. Thank you! Feel free to send me a Thomas X Sides prompt! (only send NSFW if you’re 18+)

Working out obviously had its benefits, but Thomas was regretting it as he had apparently pulled a muscle in his shoulders. Or maybe it was the way he sat for hours at a time working on editing, but he’d rather blame the exercise than the job he loved so much. His eyes were on the TV- Parks and Recreation, again- but his mind was on the pain as he tried to contort his arms like a pretzel to massage away the pain and he was struggling with it, gradually getting more and more frustrated. Cue Janus. The half-reptile Side appeared at Thomas’ side, startling him. “Oh. Hi, Janus.” “You know why I’m here, don’t you?” “At this point, I’m afraid to ask.” Janus rolled his eyes a little to himself. “Thomas, you’re in pain. In a way that suggests you’re not taking proper care of yourself. You once knew me as ‘Deceit’, but I happen to also be your sense of self-preservation. Things like this are my responsibility.” Thomas huffed softly. “Sure, I get that. I’m trying to take care of myself. But it’s my shoulder that’s bothering me and I can’t seem to--” “You need a shoulder massage. Well, I can help.” Thomas turned to properly look at Janus finally. “You... you’ll do that for me?”

“Of course. Thomas, it’s... it’s just my job, I don’t care about you at all outside of that. As my host.”

Nodding softly, Thomas turned his back to Janus a little. “Okay. Thank you, Janus.” Janus hummed softly as if to nonverbally say ‘Don’t mention it’ and he moved in nearer to Thomas, closing his eyes briefly as he took in the inviting heat radiating from Thomas’ body. He placed his hands on Thomas’ shoulders and hesitated a moment before withdrawing his hands; he carefully, hesitantly removed his gloves and leaned over, placing them neatly on the coffee table out of the way. Thomas noticed but he said nothing, fearing making Janus self-conscious or insecure about it, but it makes his heart flip.

Taking a breath at this new state of vulnerability, Janus put his hands on Thomas’ shoulders again, starting with a gentle pressure and being rewarded with a soft hum. He kept up this way for a moment before pressing into the muscles a bit more firmly, working them loose with dedication and care. Thomas groaned quietly at the relief it brought. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone did this for him and Janus was particularly good at it. With Thomas distracted and facing away from him, Janus let out another pair of arms to work on the rest of Thomas’ back, working deep into the muscles and loosening knots, releasing tension. Thomas noticed there seemed to be more than two hands touching him, but he felt so wonderful that he couldn’t bring himself to be repulsed or even really care. He closed his eyes and let Janus do what he’d offered to do, relaxing and groaning softly at Janus’ touch. An innocent shoulder rub, maybe, but the sounds Thomas was making, even as soft as they were, caused Janus’ mind to wander a bit to the other ways he could take care of Thomas, relieve him, soothe his stressed and tense body and mind... It was only when he noticed that he was, in fact, erect that he withdrew his hands from Thomas’ body and moved away a bit, clearing his throat and putting his gloves back on as he returned to a two-armed form. “Well, then, Thomas... That should do it. I’ll be going then.” A soft, warm hand wrapped around Janus’ own, still ungloved, and the Side turned to give his host a puzzled look. “Thank you, Janus... I appreciate you always taking care of me. You don’t... have to go if you don’t want to.” The air between them seemed to buzz silently with a warmth Janus was... not unfamiliar with, but unused to. Silent, save for the sounds of their breathing, though Janus wondered if the beat he heard was Thomas’ heart or his own. Loud, heavy, persistent, quickening by the passing second. Janus wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but they were pressed together, sealed by their lips and Thomas tasted of watermelon Jolly Rancher and strawberry lip balm, too sweet and not sweet enough at the same time. Addicting, comforting, enticing. Together, they moved both too quickly and too slowly. A bowler hat and capelet landed on the floor, joining a pair of patent leather shoes and yellow gloves. Thomas made patient, steady work of the closures on Janus’ shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. It was Janus’ instinct to recoil, to hide, but when Thomas appeared unafraid and instead delicately ran his fingers over the scales on the left side of Janus’ body, Janus sighed, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Seeming to have noticed Janus’ unspoken insecurity, Thomas captured his lips again gently as if in reassurance, making Janus melt. When they parted from their kiss again, Janus carefully, and with Thomas’ silent encouragement, pulled the T-shirt he was wearing up over his head and pressed slow kisses to Thomas’ soft, smooth, warm skin, moving down his beautiful neck and across his collarbone. Thomas was receptive to Janus’ attention, making the sweetest sounds, encouraging the Side and running gentle fingers through his hair, down the scaly half of his back. Janus pulled away almost reluctantly. “May I touch you,” he asked, not wanting to go any further without Thomas’ explicit consent. “God, Janus, yes please...” Janus smirked a little, his eyes brighter than usual, as he opened the button and drew down the zipper of Thomas’ jeans, working them off his hips and thighs as if unwrapping a present. And it was, in a way, a gift: this intimacy, this trust, this affection; just the two of them and no one else. Just a Side and his gorgeous, generous, warm Host. Thomas leaned back against the arm of the old sofa that so often seemed so uncomfortable and yet now was the most comfortable place in the world. He spread his legs and the sound that left Janus- desperate and awed- made him laugh softly. Hands- one of them scaled- caressed the outsides of Thomas’ thighs as softly trembling lips pressed reverent kisses of adoration to the insides. A forked tongue made an occasional appearance to taste the warm flesh of the human’s thighs; teeth grazed and sank in gently and love bites began blooming over the pale skin, leaving barely an inch untouched, unappreciated. Neither of them had any idea how long Janus’ brazen worship of Thomas’ thighs had gone on, but it left Thomas squirming. Unwilling to let Thomas go another moment uncared for, Janus finally sat up and curled his fingers in the elastic waistband of Thomas’ boxers, pulling them down and off, discarding them on the floor with the rest of their garments. Thomas flushed as he was fully exposed, his cock hard and pink, twitching occasionally with need and throbbing in time with his elevated pulse. “I’m going to take care of you, Thomas,” Janus promised. With a snap of fingers, a bottle of lubricant appeared in Janus’ left hand and he poured a small amount into the palm of his right hand, setting the bottle on the coffee table. He was left handed, but he felt Thomas would be more comfortable being touched with flesh than scales. He wrapped his hand around Thomas’ cock and began slowly, gently stroking him, finding a good pace and establishing a rhythm. Thomas’ head fell back against the arm of the couch and he moaned softly, but encouragingly. The sound ignited Janus’ own blood, but he remained patient. Thomas was his priority. He gave a slow, experimental twist of his wrist and Thomas’ cried out in unmistakable pleasure. Soon, Janus had sped up and established a rhythm that had Thomas’ moaning and his breath hitching as his thighs tremored with euphoria. He moved steadily and quickly from head to base and back again, twisting his wrist on occasion, enjoying how much that made Thomas gasp. “Ja-Janus... I’m... I’m close, I’m gonna...” “Shh. I’ve got you. I’m taking care of you. Let yourself go for me, Thomas.” And let go he did. Thomas went slack against the sofa, moaning out almost constantly between panting breaths. Janus watched with delight as his face flushed bright red and the muscles in his stomach and thighs tensed just before he came, arching slightly off the couch cushions, toes curling as he moaned loudly, unrestrained. “Janus... oh! Oh... ffffuck... Janus...” Thomas’ hands clenched into fists and relaxed again and he pushed his fingers into his own hair, unsure what else to do with them as the waves of his orgasm continued to pulsate through his body. His moans finally quietened as his orgasm began to subside and Janus finally stopped stroking him, not wanting to push him too far into overstimulation. Slowly, Thomas opened his eyes to stare up at his ceiling, his mind whirling and his heart racing, pounding heavily against his ribs as he tried to catch his breath. Janus smirked to himself as he cleaned off his hand and gently, carefully cleaned Thomas’ stomach, cock, and thighs. “Can I touch you now?” The question caught Janus off guard. “What?” Thomas sat up and looked at Janus, repeating his question: “May I touch you? I... I want to return the favor.” “Well, Thomas, I was supposed to be taking care of you. Self-care, you know.” “I know, but... I *want* to.” “I...” Janus sighed. “Okay, but... there’s something you need to know.” He didn’t see a way around this. He could either tell Thomas and prepare the man, or Thomas could be unpleasantly surprised. Either way, it was likely to frighten him off. And this way was easier to accept rejection. He took a deep breath. “My anatomy is... not... average.” Thomas neither moved nor spoke. “You see, because I am half snake, I have... a... ‘hemipenis’. It is not scaled. It’s made of flesh, same as yours, but... it looks...” Janus ran a hand through his hair, huffing in frustration at his own nervousness. “It looks like I have two. They are... identical. They sh-share a... base and... an internal... system, though I do still have external testicles. They are... well, for lack of better description, they are side by side. I just... didn’t want to scare you off.” “Oh.” Thomas took a second to process this information, not sure what he should have expected. This felt a little like a paper bag marked Dead Dove, Do Not Eat that contained an actual dead dove. Janus was half snake. Of course he would be different. “Okay,” he said at last. “Okay?” Thomas nodded. “I think you might have to teach me how to touch you, but I still want to, Janus.” A little blown away, Janus nodded and leaned in for another kiss. Thomas cupped both sides of his head gently and held him there a moment longer before they parted again. Janus removed his own slacks and underwear, revealing his hemipenis. The scales on the left side of his body continued down to his toes, but just as he’d said, his cocks and testicles showed no sign of ever having had scales. The human half of him was hairless much to Thomas’ surprise, but it wasn’t anything more than surprising, and he’d already been prepared for the surprise. “Wow,” Thomas whispered. “And you can use both at once?” “Yes. It feels best that way.” Janus gently took Thomas’ hand, but he didn’t move beyond that. “You still want to touch me?” Thomas licked his lips and nodded once more. “More than anything.” “Then, I will teach you.” Cautiously, in case he still decided to recoil and retreat, Janus guided Thomas’ hand to his cocks and showed him just how to touch them, stroking first one, then the other. He then taught Thomas how to take both of them into one hand with a firm grip and stroke. At first, Thomas’ touch was barely there, uncertain and insecure much like Janus himself in that moment, but he built confidence and started a rhythm like he’d done this a dozen or so times before. Janus moaned softly and mostly let his hand fall away since it was clear Thomas could handle it on his own. “Yes, Thomas... Mm, that’s it, darling. You’re doing... ooh-- perfectly...” He moved his hand down, touching the delicate folds of skin between his cocks at the base, stroking them and moaning loudly as it increased his pleasure fivefold. Awed, Thomas couldn’t look away; he watched his own hand moving over Janus’ cocks, aided by a generous amount of leaking precome. He watched Janus touch himself in what was evidently a very sensitive area. It was thrilling to experience something so new, so unheard of, and it caused a shiver to run down his spine. “Kiss me, Thomas. Please. I long to taste you again.” Without hesitation, Thomas captured Janus’ lips with his own once again, swallowing down his sweet, indulgent moans as he continued stroking his cocks, speeding up steadily. The feeling of Janus’ forked tongue brushing against his lips and then moving into his mouth and gently moving against his tongue made Thomas moan softly. Janus’ free arm wrapped around his waist, holding him close even as he broke the kiss. “I’m very nearly there, Thomas. Please... please don’t stop.” Thomas continued determinedly, stroking Janus’ cocks firmly and quickly until the Side began to tense and moan louder between gentle gasps for breath. “Oh god, Thomas... Oh--” Janus lifted his hips from the sofa, his eyes rolling back and falling shut as he came hard, making twice as much mess as Thomas as he spilled over Thomas’ hand, his own hand and thighs, and his own stomach. He let out one last moan and shuddered as the final wave of his orgasm passed through him like a tidal wave. Thomas slowed to a stop before gently releasing Janus’ cocks. Lazy and orgasm-dizzy, Janus waved his hand, making the mess disappear from both of them without a trace and he gave Thomas a sleepy smile. “That was marvelous, darling.” He pulled Thomas in for a soft, sweet kiss. “Thank you for letting me take care of you.” “Thank you for being willing to be taken care of in return. You’re important to me, Janus. I love you.”

#thomas x sides #not safe for sanders #no minors #thomasxsides #thomceit #c!thomas x janus #c!thomas x janus sanders #character!thomas x janus #character!thomas x janus sanders #janus x c!thomas #janus sanders x c!thomas #janus x character!thomas #janus sanders x character!thomas #janus sanders #fluffsmut #smut #fluff #c!thomas #character!thomas

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

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The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Five:Sensory Integration 1

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: A Friday full of teasing for Shane ends in a steak dinner with a blue-eyed beefcake. If you don’t finish this chapter hungry for one or the other, if not both, I haven’t done my job! Lol! (For inspo on Sy’s date outfit, think back to that one Men’s Health photoshoot Hen did and just imagine his hair shorter. That’s what I did. lol!)

Click me to catch up on the story and other stuff by Hannah!

Word Count: 4k (This date got away from me! Lol! And it’s only half over!)

Warnings: Mostly this is utter fluffy fluff, but I’m gonna put the following warnings on, anyway. Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, borderline food worship (Shane may have a problem, I definitely do! Lol!) Also, pretty much every Sy fic I’ve read says that his given name is Logan, so...should his given name be used henceforth, that’s what I’m going with because it seems the most cannon and I like it and if it’s good enough for Wolverine...

Author’s Note: So, guys, this is crazy. First off, the reaction and love Sy and Shane’s story has been getting has taken me completely off guard and utterly made my day/week. (I’m serious. Every note makes my heart do a happy dance. A like, a reblog, a comment. It all means the world to me. Thank you for your feedback and for sharing this story.) Second, YOUR FEEDBACK MATTERS TO ME! Because initially, idk what I was thinking. I was going to skim over their first date and like…not write it…and I kept getting notes as I worked on further chapters to the tune of “can’t wait for this date!” and I thought…hmm…well, the date must be written! So, here it is, the first half-ish, of Shane and Sy’s first date. I hope it’s all you were expecting…or at least half of all you were expecting! Lol! More to come in part two of Sens Integ! (BTW, fun fact, these chapter titles are all named after treatments that therapists actually use on their patients sometimes! Lol!)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira @oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland @speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby @suavechops

Friday morning. She was up with the sun. And a bit before, really. Today was the day. Her first date with Sy. She’d taken extra care in the shower, less clumsy, thank God! She shaved her legs because she had chosen to wear a knee-length blue dress with a scoop neck and cap sleeves in wrinkle-proof Jersey knit since it would be in her tote bag all day. She was not shaving because she thought anything would happen tonight with Sy. She didn’t think she was ready.

That is, she was ready, but, only physically. Emotionally, mentally, she would need to prepare for him a bit longer before taking him as a lover. She hoped he was on the same page.

He had an appointment in the early afternoon. He greeted her with his warm “Hello, sunshine.” Following it up by telling her how pretty she looked today, causing blush to burn in her cheeks. She’d reciprocated, even though he was in his typical tee and shorts look. It was still true. They got on their usual bikes to warm up for about 15 minutes, and then took to the leg press to try to advance his strengthening.

“I’m really proud of your progress! You wouldn’t have been able to do this much weight two weeks ago!” She encouraged him.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Now, we are going to do some drills next. Simple ones, but they aren’t going to be fun for you. I’ve chosen to do them on your last day of the week for a reason. You may be sore. Ice and whatever you take OTC if you must. Ibuprofen or acetaminophen. But try the ice first. It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Okay.” He conceded, dejected.

“Stretching afterward.” She promised.

“Okay!” He pepped up. She knew he just loved an excuse to have her hands on him.

Later, as he lay on the mat, sweaty from the exertion of the drills, with her up there with him having to use her whole body to leverage the proper stretch out of his hip flexors, she felt the heavy weight of his gaze. She tried to look anywhere but those sapphire eyes below her. They were too vulnerable. She couldn’t handle that right now. Not here.

“Shane?” Dammit, he was gonna make her.

“Hmm?” She looked down at him, smile meeting smile.

“I just…” he couldn’t seem to get out the words. But she thought she understood what he was feeling.

“I know, Sy. I know.” She gently patted his outer thigh where she had been bracing her hand for the stretch, and let his leg back down, while dismounting the mat, as well.

“Well, that’s about the hour. Any questions before I let you go?”

“Are you as excited for tonight as I am?” He asked. She chuckled. She couldn’t imagine him being more excited than she was!

“Yes! Hehe! But I still kinda meant about therapy, Sy.”

“Oh, right. Are you excited to finish up with your therapy patients at therapy today so I can pick you up from the therapy clinic and take you on our date?”

“Just because you say therapy 20 times doesn’t make it about therapy.” She laughed.

“Okay, I do have a question for you, since I’m here.”

“Shoot.” She encouraged.

He stood and held her face, taking it into a kiss so devastatingly and painfully tender, she could not process what to do next. She was leaning toward fainting. But then tackling him onto the mat again seemed an attractive option. She settled for placing her hands on his waist, ready to control the situation as need arose. But after a brief moment of slight deepening, he broke away, still holding her face in his large strong hands.

“Ahem. That’s a good question. Why don’t I have you a reply later this evening?”

“Sounds good to me, sunshine.” He grinned widely, and waved a quiet goodby to her.

She walked to the doorway of the small room to watch him walk out…his gait still uneven from his injury but improving enough that she could tell he once took very…confident strides. She could almost picture it. She sighed, forgetting herself for a moment until Anita came up behind her walking her elderly patient with a gait belt and front wheeled walker.

"Is that a bit of drool on your chin, Shane?" she said quietly, but still startling the younger therapist from her reverie.

"Oh, uh, hey." she checked her chin, absentmindedly, late in getting the joke, and rolled her eyes. "Funny, Nita. Do you need anything?"

"Nope, Gladys and I are just headed to the gym for a few minutes on the NuStep to round out her treatment." Nita grinned at Shane.

"Who was that handsome young man that just left, Shane?" Gladys asked her, as women of her…demographic tended to do.

"He's just one of our patient's Miss Gladys. But I can't tell you his name. It's against the privacy policy." She explained.

"Oh, okay. Well, if I was a few years younger, I'd let ya give him MY name…and my telephone number." she smirked with pride in herself. All three ladies giggled.

"I'm pretty sure he's spoken for, Gladys." Anita broke the news to her randy patient, smirking at her coworker.

"Shame! Well, that's one lucky young lady!" Gladys hobbled on with the walker as Anita cued her not to let the device get too far ahead of her feet. Shane was beet red from the whole interaction. At least she wouldn't have to wear blush tonight.

Her day finally finished, notes done, and final communications sent, the most important (in her opinion, probably not her employer's) message of them all was next. The text to Sy that he could head toward the clinic to pick her up.

She touched up her eye makeup, applied another coat of mascara, and dabbed on some of her favorite lipstick in a deep red that complimented her skin tone. She also spritzed on a bit of her favorite Armani perfume before slipping on her dress and black ballet flats and sliding on a pair of simple hoop earrings. She'd had her hair pulled up all day in a clip, so it should be pleasantly wavy when she took it down…and with a bit of flipping, shaking out, and finger diffusing, it was.

She looked in the mirror. She was ready.

Was she ready? She examined herself in the full length mirror in the empty locker room at the clinic. The dress and the shoes suddenly seemed all wrong, both together and as individual pieces for the occasion. She looked great, it wasn't that…but…was it right for tonight? Should she cancel? Was she being ridiculous? Clearly she was, as she'd already sent the message telling Sy he could come get her. But the closer she got to being ready to go, the less ready she felt. Those butterflies were suddenly clawing at her esophagus, disrupting the bile in her stomach, and threatening to choke off her air supply. They were no longer pleasantly fluttering. She felt like she had a boot against her windpipe.

She was snapped out of the panic attack when she heard her phone go off. A message from Sy.

Your chariot, m'lady. Should I come in and get ya?

She grinned like a lunatic. How could she have considered calling tonight off?

Nay, m'lord, verily the gates be locked. I shall use the rear exit and meet thee around yonder forsooth.

Wow, you ran with that one. *laughing in tears emoji*

I have that tendency. Lol. *monocle wearing emoji*

She grabbed her bags, walked out the back door, and tossed the one that wasn't her purse into her vehicle, which was parked nearby and walked around to the front. He was standing on the sidewalk near that edge of the building.

The sun was just setting, and the light from it hit him so bewitchingly that it took away her breath. Not in the frightening way of the panic attack she'd just had, but in the nice way, like right before you surface from a deep dive and you know the sweet relief of oxygen is imminent. She assessed his ensemble with approval. Black books, sleek dark blue jeans, and a sapphire v-neck polo that even in the low light of near dusk made his blue eyes dance with vibrant intensity against his fading tan. His hair was starting to grow out ever so slightly, but it was still very close cropped. His beard, she could tell, had been finely groomed, combed, and styled. He looked…well, she'd never looked up the word "handsome" in the dictionary, but she imagined it would describe the image before her quite succinctly. And alternatively, Sy's image could be used as an illustration in the reference book, itself.

The best part, though, was the look on his face when he saw her.

She felt like he'd never properly looked at her, perhaps. Maybe he wasn't expecting a dress, or loose hair, or red lips. Or maybe it was a combo of the whole Date Shane package he was seeing before him. As his eyes beheld her, he almost looked confused. As if she was a stand-in. Or maybe an alien. Some body-snatcher. Only he wasn't frightened. She was having a hard time working out his expression as she'd really never seen it before, and particularly, never aimed in her direction. He said one word.

"Wow." It was reverent. Not a whisper. But barely a decibel above.

Again, her cheeks required no artificial pigmentation.

"Hey. You look…you certainly scrub up good, mister." she giggled nervously, feeling immensely awkward at her inability to properly compliment the chiseled image of Adonis before her. His every muscle hugged to perfection by the fabric covering it. How did you even begin to tell such perfection how perfect it was?

"You…Shane, I don't remember the last time I saw anyone look so beautiful." he frowned, as if trying to recall, then giving up with a smile, and leaning in to kiss her cheek. He lingered a moment to hug her, hold her as the day faded, breathe her in. She did the same. He was freshly showered and wearing cologne, as he often did, but it rarely hit her so solidly as it did tonight. She loved this scent. Woody, but earthy, with notes of bergamot, a kind of musky scent similar to amber, but more masculine, and something spicy that she loved. The combination exploded like an olfactory fireworks display.

The shirt was an unthinkably soft cotton (blended she thought perhaps with kitten, she could not stop touching it.) and the warmth of him radiated into her as his chest rose and fell over the course of his numerous breaths as they stood there holding each other and enjoying this feast for the senses.

"You ready for supper?" he asked, a faint but distinct rumble from his abdomen indicating that he most certainly was.

"Yes." she smiled up at him as he took her hand in his and led her to his truck. A Ford F150, the same sapphire blue as his shirt and his eyes. She was sensing a pattern, here. It wasn't the newest vehicle, but he had taken immaculate care of it. She felt shame for her own treatment of her Explorer, Bessie, which often functioned as storage shed, trash can, and sometimes, hotel, when she felt like a road trip on a shoestring budget. He walked her to the passenger side, opened the door for her, and helped her in, as the truck sat a bit higher than what she was used to.

"So, I have us a table saved at this great steakhouse just down the road. And then, it's supposed to be a nice night, I thought we could take a walk by the lake?"

It sounded perfect to her. Quiet and simple.

"Amazing. As long as your knee is up for a walk?"

"I've got all weekend to rest before getting tortured again." he smirked at her as he pulled the truck out of the parking lot and on the main road toward the interstate. "B'sides, who better to have with me if I start hurtin' than my PT?"

The emphasis he placed on the possessive pronoun, claiming her as HIS PT sent a delighted shiver through her that she blamed on the AC, which he promptly turned down.

He had his Spotify shuffling Kings of Leon at a low volume as they conversed lightly and pleasantly. Since it was an earlier model, even well equipped as it was, it wasn't quite ready for auxiliary or Bluetooth sound, so he'd bought one of those radio receivers that tune into an unused frequency and connect to your phone or iPod. She'd retrofitted her 2003 Ford Explorer in a similar fashion.

They were both caught a bit off guard when "Sex on Fire" came on, and tried valiantly to keep talking. But it was hard to hear anything but those lyrics. Singing of exhibitionism and dangerous sex acts that were definitely moving violations…and simply the sex being on fire. She was thankful, for once, that this song that she'd always found catchy without paying much attention to the actual lyrics, was now fading into the night as they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

She remembered to wait for him to get the door for her, even though it had been ages since she'd been on a date or had any kind of romance whatsoever. He helped her down from her perch, giving her a gentlemanly moment to adjust her skirt before taking her hand and leading her into the building.

He opened the door and led her in by that lumbar lordosis that made everyone tremble and swoon. She was no exception just because she knew that part of your back was not actually called "the small" and she got perturbed when she heard it referred to as such.

"Welcome to Mark's, how can we help you?" the host greeted warmly.

"Reservation for Syverson." Sy piped up. She was used to being the voice in these situations. She was thankful not to have to for once. It was a small thing, but it was still nice.

"Right this way, folks." he grabbed two large menus, a mid sized one, and a small one, and led them to a cozy but still spacious two-top in a quiet corner of the dining area. The warm light was low and ambient, and there were real kerosene lamps on the tables, which she loved. It had the rustic ambiance of a cabin with all the refinement of any four+ star restaurant she'd ever been to. Not that she'd been to many.

"Here you are, the table you requested, and your menus. Have a look at them, and Katie will be out soon to answer questions and take your orders."

As he walked away, Sy pulled her chair out for her, and aided her sitting. His gentility was so refreshing to her, because it was so sincere and kind, and in no way oppressive or domineering, as some men seemed to use such gestures. Wielding them like a club rather than a feather. She was just used to seeing a certain side of him, teasing and silly as he was in therapy that this side of Captain Syverson, or as she may end up calling him one day, Logan, his given first name, if it pleased him, had taken her off guard.

"Nice place." she approved, looking around at he exposed beams of the ceiling and the iron and copper chandeliers and light fixtures on the wall. She also noticed quite curiously a copy of American Gothic by Grant Wood on one wall and The Kiss by Gustav Klimt on another. Such different styles to be displayed in one room. She really liked it though.

"It's one of my favorites. I try to come in every couple weeks or so." The fact that he liked steak on the regular was definitely a point in his favor. She loved it but rarely went out for it on her own. Eating out alone wasn't so bad, but it was hard to enjoy a steak dinner by one's self.

"What's your favorite cut?"

"Oh, I've tried most of them, and you can't go wrong." He assured her.

They had a crazy selection. Ribeyes, filets, sirloins, prime rib, all seasoned, smoked, topped and wrapped in every way you could imagine…it was like staring at the Netflix menu of steak. And much like she tended to do with Netflix, she relied on a classic favorite. After all, who goes for an obscure choice their first time at a new steak house?

"I'm keeping it simple and going for their prime rib and a baked potato."

"Ah, that's a perfect choice. We're getting some of their lobster mac and cheese to start, though. Unless you're allergic or something?" he added the disclaimer when he saw her eyes widen.

"Not at all, that sounds…"she was thinking "sexual," but decided instead on "heavenly."

Soon, Katie, a peppy, slender young redhead in black jeans she'd been poured into and a white T-shirt she had outgrown some time ago, descended upon their table with gusto.

"Howdy, I'm Katie and I get to take care of you fine folks this evening. What drinks and appetizers can I start y'all off with?"

Sy looked at Shane to prompt her to start.

"Sweet tea?" she half stated, half inquired. Katie nodded and jotted.

"Sure thing! Sir?" she thought her eyes sparkled when she looked at Sy…she couldn't blame her. But…she thought she could take her if she tried anything. She was certain there was a very sharp knife in the black napkin set-up at her right hand.

"Same for me, Katie. And we are also gonna need an order of your lobster mac to start and a bottle of your house cab."

"Fantastic. I'll be right back with the teas and wine after I put in for the lobster mac for ya, and then I'll take your meal order." she smiled brightly. Sy looked at Shane, though, as he replied "Wonderful."

~~~~~~~

Her instincts about the lobster mac and cheese had been spot on. She couldn’t contain her yummy noises of enjoyment which amused Sy to no end. She couldn’t imagine the steak any better.

About that, she had been completely wrong. It was so succulent, tender, and flavorful, she debated on whether or not the provided au jus and horseradish were even needed. They were also too good to resist, though.

Her potato, twice baked to the perfect tenderness had a salt brined skin, and a garlicky butter that just sung with the sour cream and chives. She was in food heaven, and even if that meant she was dead, it was fine.

He’d ordered the same entrée as she had, but took his baked potato…a bit differently.

“You don’t like sour cream?” She asked, nonplussed.

“Nah, I mean, I can eat it, but…it feels weird in my mouth. I prefer the au jus and butter, instead. It’s much more tasty.” He said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I guess I’ll take your word for it.” She laughed.

“You’re welcome to try mine when I get it all doctored you how I like it!”

She did, right from his fork. And he was right about it being so flavorful, but she preferred the mild, creamier texture of her own side with the savory notes of her steak.

They ate and enjoyed each other’s company and conversation.

“Ya know, Sy, I totally had you pegged as a beer man, instead of a wine guy.” She said, as she brought her own glass of the deep red liquid to her mouth and nose, inhaling the bouquet before she took her sip.

“Normally, you’d be right. With a burger, pizza, sometimes tacos or what not, definitely. But I can’t do beer with steak. It’s gotta be wine. Red. And full-bodied.” He held her gaze as he drank from his own glass. Why did he have to look at her like that when he said those kinds of words? Her cheeks were warm from more than the booze.

For desert, they shared a decadent marbled brownie/blondie a la mode. He’d had the idea to slide his chair so he was sharing a corner of the table with her, rather than looking across it at her. Purely so they didn’t have to keep sliding the dessert…not so their knees would brush against one another now and then, or so they could feel the heat radiating from one another’s bodies…but actually, exactly for those reasons.

“Last bite is to you, Sy.” She set her fork down, full to bursting.

“Are you kiddin’? My mama’d tan my hide if she knew I took the last bite from my date.”

“You’re being gallant, actually! Rescuing me from a certain belly ache.” She patted her small but slightly rounded tummy. She did like her food, and was no gym rat, after all. He didn't seemed to mind. Yet.

“How 'bout we share the last bite?” He suggested.

“Technically that’s not physically possible. Becau…”

He interrupted what was going to be an intellectual explanation of why no matter how small you cut up a bite, the remaining bit was still technically one bite, and couldn’t be shared.

“No. Shh. I know you’re smart. You got nothin’ to prove here. I’m gonna cut what’s left in half until I get a bite you’re willing to take. Okay?” She nodded.

He only had to take the fork to it twice before she conceded, also letting him feed her, feigning paralysis from the food coma. She held the fork tightly between her lips, making him work to pull it from her mouth. She looked innocent, but she was an intentional little shit.

“You're so cute when you eat.”

“Said no one ever!” She held her hand over her face.

“You are, though. You enjoy the food. Experience it. It’s like you’re…getting a story from it, or something. Like it’s…almost like it’s entertaining you, I don’t know. It’s just…beautiful.” He leaned his elbow onto the table, supporting his head in his hand as he looked at her.

"Well, sometimes I think I like food a little TOO much for my own good." she lamented, reaching for the cabernet only to have it snatched by her date. He uncorked it and dispensed a generous pour for her, and topped off his own glass, killing the bottle.

"No such thing. Like I said about the wine, full bodied is the way to go. Nothin' wrong with a little cushion." he winked at her. She could not resist finishing a rhyme she'd always heard about the desirability of curvy girls…for the pushin,' and hoped the flush in her cheeks from the wine was enough to disguise the deepening color from the current blush she was feeling thinking of Sy…pushin' her cushions…but something tipped him off to her distraction.

"What's on yer mind, sunshine?"

"I'm wondering if you're prepared to carry me on this walk we're planning, actually." It was possible to think more than one thing, after all. "I don't know how I'll ever even walk again."

"Ah, give it fifteen minutes. Finish up your sweet tea, and by the time we're done with our walk, you'll want an ice cream cone."

"Ha, doubtful." But she was ashamed to admit, ice cream already didn't sound bad. Vanilla…maybe pistachio….no, coffee! In a waffle cone…with fudge drizzle…and almonds…maybe she had a problem.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded. He flagged down Katie and gave her cash, and what one might call a benevolent tip. They left the warm steakhouse, and entered the breezy late summer evening, the humid air seeming thick with promises.

Up Next: Chapter Six-Sensory Integration 2

#netflix sand castle #sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc

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johnismyreason · 4 years

Text

deal with her pt.2 // Alfie Solomons x ShelbySister!Reader

Hi ! So I saw that Deal with Her had a little success so on the request of a few of you, I’ve decided to write a part 2 ! I hope you will enjoy it as much as the first part. Again let me know if you liked it and/or if you’d like to read a third part. Also I tagged everyone one who liked or reblogged the first part, I’m sorry if it bothered you. Thank you again @fandom--0verdose for initiating this story with your request for the first part.

Words: 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: fluff, swear words (lightly), soft Alfie lmao.

PART 1 / PART 3 / MASTERLIST

FEED BACKS ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED :)

The next evening, you got yourself prepared. You didn’t really know if it was casual or fancy, so you split it in half and wear a nice dress but not the nicest that you have. You sit in front the dressing table in your room and do your hair and makeup. You keep it light and simple but with a slight touch of femme fatale. You’re still a blinder after all, right ? A blinder who is going to go on a date with your brother’s business partner, that he doesn’t really quite like… But gosh, Alfie was so gentle with you. The conversation was so easy and pleasant, you felt so comfortable with him, as if you knew him for years.

“Where you’re going ?” Tommy says in his low voice, a cigarette between his lips. You jump on your chair, surprised by him.

“Tommy, what the fuck ? God, you scared the hell out of me ! What are you doing in my house ?” you breath one hand on your chest. He lights his cigarette.

“Got your keys remember ?” he replies quickly. “So ?” he inhales “Where are you going ?” he exhales.

“That’s none of your business, Tommy” you sigh

“It is. Tell me.”

“No ! I’m not your daughter or your little soldier, so no, I won’t tell you.” you spit.

“So it’s man. Who is he ?”. You sigh annoyed.

“No one.”

“Then tell me. If it’s no one, just tell me.”

“It’s no one because it’s not a man, ok ? I’m going out with my girlfriends. Happy ?” you exclaim, rising from your dressing table chair. You walk to your dressing to grab a coat, and pass by him.

“Your girlfriends ? You don’t have any girlfriends.” he follows you downstairs.

“I do.”

“I never saw them.”

“Maybe because I don’t want them to meet you.”

“Why ?”

“Would you fucking stop asking questions ?” you turn to him. “I’m going out, with my girls, and that none of your business, is all you need to know. Goodnight, Tom.” you open the door for him. He stops in the doorstep.

“Be careful.” you roll your eyes. “I’m serious, Y/N” you look at him and see the protective big brother he is who just wants you to be safe.

“I will. I promise” you kissed him on the cheek and he leaves before climbing in his car.

You wait for the vehicule to be out of your sight, and then close the door. You check the time on the big clock in your entry. “Shit !” you’re almost late. You put your coat in a hurry, grab your purse and leave your house. You live in the city center so you walk to the restaurant where Alfie asked you to join him. You are so nervous and excited to meet him again. You haven’t been in a proper date for as long as you could remember, you don’t really know how it works. You actually don’t have time to think about, as you arrive to the address he gave you. You enter and discover a way nicer and fancier place than you pictured. Now you regret your dress choice.

“May I help you, miss ?” says the waiter.

“Uhm, yes, I’m here to see Mr Solomons, is he here ?”

“Yes, he’s waiting for you. Follow me please” the waiter passes before you and leads you to the table. You walk by the tables, watching everyone so well dressed makes you uncomfortable. Why did you have to pick that dress for god’s sake ? The spot Alfie chose was in a discreet and cozy corner, far away from everyone’s eyes. When he sees you, Alfie rises from his chair, almost knocking it backwards. He coughs trying to play it smooth.

“Y/N ! You are…” he examines you head to toe, suddenly speechless. “Here” he finally les out. “And looking angelic”. You feel your cheeks heating up.

“Thank you. You look handsome too” you return the compliment. For a few seconds no one talked before Alfie rushes to your chair.

“Oh, let me pull your chair, love.” he pushes back the chair for you to sit down as you thank him and he sits on his side of the table.

“ ‘Right. What do you wanna drink ?”

“Uhm, red wine ?”

“Red wine it is !” he orders your drink and his to the waiter, whom then leaves you two alone. You started a light conversation about what each of you have been doing since yesterday. You then explained that you have meetings tomorrow in the morning.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you love, you just… You look so lovely, I wasn’t paying attention to what you were sayin’, my bad. Would you start back ?”. His words catch you out of guard, you don’t even remember what you were saying 10 seconds ago.

“I, uhm… I-... I don’t know” you chuckle. “Thank you by the way. I wasn’t sure when I entered the restaurant, it was the right dress to wear. It looks way fancier than I imagined.”

“Where do you think I was gonna bring you at, uh ? You look perfect, don’t worry, love.” You blush again, that’s too much compliment for one night. “You blush a lot, don’t ya ?”. You rub your cheek hoping the redness goes away. “That’s alright, love.” he pushes away your hand. “You were talking about your meetings, I think.”

“Oh yeah, yeah !” you cough to come to your senses. “I have a meeting tomorrow morning with Thomas.”

“Ah, Thomas ! Does he know you’re here with me ?” he asks.

“No.” you shake your head “he doesn’t need to”.

“Is it a bad thing you’re spending time with me ?”

“Not for me” you smile and he smiles back. The waiter comes back with your drinks after a while. You grab your red wine and he takes his whiskey, rising it to you. “To bad things”. You breath a small laugh and tinkle your glass on his.

You and Alfie spent the evening and the beginning of the night talking about everything. You loved every single second of it, Alfie making you laugh every now and then. You made him laugh too. You love his laugh, it can be raucous as it is exploded. Everything was so easy and smooth, you forgot you barely know him. You were too caught in the conversation you didn’t notice the rest of the customers left, leaving you two in your isolated corner.

“Excuse me Sir, Miss…” the waiter said. You both look at him, offended to be bothered. “We are about to close.” That’s when you finally look around and see the place completely empty.

“Oh !” You and Alfie exclaimed. “Sorry, mate. We leave”. Alfie gets up as you follow him. He takes your coat and helps you to put it on.

“Thank you” you whisper

“You’re welcome, love”. You feel his fingers slid on your nape of neck as he lets go your coat, giving you a rush of goosebumps. He then offers you his arm and escorts you to the exit. You are about to tell him goodnight before walking back to your place alone, but it cuts you off. “Can I walk you home ?”

You smile sweetly, happy to spend a little more time with him “I would love that”. He smiles back and nods.

“Let’s go then” he puts one hand on your back as the other shows the way.

The wind was even cooler than when you got out of your house earlier this evening. Thank god, the alcohol you drank at the restaurant does its effect and warms you up a little. Actually the one who really warms you up is the man who’s been making you laugh since you met him. It was so pleasant to finally have a real date, but more importantly with a man who was treating you right and was making sure you were comfortable enough to have a good time. Usually men hit you up with an inappropriate remark like “your body does things to me and I haven’t talked to you yet” blowing their foul breath of alcohol in your face. The rare men who had talk to you in a nice way were quickly cooled down when they’ve learned you were a Shelby, more scared of your brothers than of you.

Alfie wasn’t scared, at all. Not of Thomas or any of your brothers. He was just a little scared of you, but only because you impressed him. He was so nervous around you, like a teenager. He would cough or shake his head when he realised what he just said was a little embarrassing. But your laugh always sweeps away his doubts. He only wants to make you laugh and happy, so if it means making a fool of himself, so be it.

Alfie and you arrive to your house, sad that it was the end of your date. He climbed the few steps of your front door with you but stops at the second last step, making you a little taller than him. You turn to him, sighing. “Well… That was an fantastic night, Alfie, thank you” you smile.

“Any time, love. Thank you for accepting my invitation.” you nod, looking at your feet. “When, can I see you again ? I mean without your family ” he chuckles.

“Whenever you want, I’m all yours” you realise wide eyes, what you just said. Alfie being as surprised as you are. Gosh, that sounded so desperate. “Oh my god, wait, that was not what I meant. I…” Alfie laughs at your clumsiness “I mean, yeah, whenever you want, but I’m not all yours…” you pause “yet”.

Alfie stops laughing and stares at you. Were at of your mind ? You’ve never done that before, being so flirtatious and confident. You are so confident tonight that you lean towards him, take his face in your small and cold hands, and kiss him. It feels naturally, like it was meant to happen. You and him, all of this. When you detach your lips from his, he climbs the last step to be closer to you. He places one hand on your rosy cheek and the other on your waist and kisses you back. Maybe it was the alcohol or the sudden heat rising in your body from the kiss, but you feel dizzy. When he breaks the kiss both of your chests are panting. You look at each other and giggle, none of you thought your first kiss would happen tonight.

“I should… go to bed now, I don’t want to be late tomorrow morning” you regret to say and break this magical moment.

“Yeah, yeah, go on, love” he lets you go and you already miss the warm of his embrace. You take your keys out of your purse and open your door. Before closing you turn to Alfie.

“Goodnight” you smile

“Goodnight” he responds softly, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You step in your house and close the door, giving him one last look.

It will be a goodnight. Actually, you didn’t sleep that much. You were so excited, you couldn’t stop about him. You finally manage to fall asleep but your alarm clock decides otherwise. You drag yourself out of the bed and get ready for the meeting. You arrive before everyone else at the bet shop in Birmingham, at least that’s what you thought. Thomas was already here and walks to you, furious.

“Hi Tomm-” he grabs your arm and drags you to the small private room with the round table. “What the fuck ?” you shout debating from his grip.

“You and Alfie”. he spits in a low voice. Your heart drops and your eyes open wide. This meeting will take longer than you had plan.

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#Alfie Solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x reader!shelby sister #thomas shelby #thomas Shelby x alfie solomons #peaky blinders imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fluff #alfie solomons fluff

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wayward-mikaelson · 4 years

Text

Centuries--Four

Word Count: 2715

Pairing: None

Characters: Reader, Dean, Cas, Sam, Hezekiah, Maggie,

Summary: Cas and Reader see the flashback of the Reader killing Maggie and also learn that the Reader was working with Hezekiah to bring Michael back. Having the knowledge that only the angel she worked with can help her, she leaves the bunker without the boys.

Disclaimer: Language, Panic Attack, Lying, Blood and Gore, Character Death

A/N: So sorry this one is out late. It’s been crazy busy at home and I wanted this to be perfect.

A/N 2: Tell me what you think!!!! I love hearing what you all think

A/N 3: Tag all your spn accounts so they can check this out!

Forever Tag List: @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @magssteenkamp @hobby27 @elansaidaris @440mxs-wife

Dean/Jensen Tag List: @sandlee44 @squirrelnotsam @akshi8278

*18+ CONTENT. ANYONE YOUNGER THAN 18 WILL NEED TO MOVE ALONG. I DO NOT WANT TO RISK MY PAGE AND WORK GETTING THANOSED.

**PLEASE DO NOT COPY AND PASTE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND WITHOUT GIVING ME THE PROPER CREDITS. REBLOGS AND SHARING THE LINKS ARE OKAY.

***THIS WORK IS ALSO POSTED ON IG, WATTPAD, AND AO3 PLEASE GO SHOW IT SOME LOVE THERE AS WELL.

FLASHBACK

I walk out of the cabin while cursing Hezekiah. He didn't want to do anything to get his self righteous of an angel ass hands dirty. So he sends me to his bidding. Something that I'm happy to do if it meant seeing 'him' again. Other times I'm not so up to it. Not many people know I'm alive so I try and make my outing short and brief. I've contemplated dying my hair but never really gotten around to it since most of my errands end with me covered in blood or a nearly broken bone.

I toss my bag into the back of the car and get into the drivers seat and start my trip from Texas to Kansas. I don't make too many stops unless it's for food or to quickly use the restroom. This is going to be one of the trickiest errands I've had. Hezekiah needs something from Lebanon. From the bunker. I know that bunker like the back of my hand and knew where there were secret passage ways that led to rooms and such. As long as they weren't there, everything will go smoothly. If they were there, well, I'm going have to cross that bridge when I get there.

I park in a well hidden spot away from the Bunker and head there on foot. Part of me wants to run into them and see what they have been up to. Maybe he has moved on. Maybe there is a new woman in his life that can make him smile the way I used to do. The other part of me doesn't want to run in to them because I know it will complicate the thing I'm doing with Hezekiah. If he has moved on, it certianly will complicate things with the other woman.

"Focus," I tell myself. "Your only mission is to get the blood and get out."

I hear a twig snap in the distance and it raises the hairs on my back of my neck. I slowly draw my small blade and turn around. There isn't anyone. Must have been a deer. I turn back around and there she is. Standing there and making my job a little less complicated. I slowly put my blade away and approach her.

"YN?" The look on her face is disbelief. Her eyes look me over a millions times before I get a foot away from her. "Is it really you?" The smile on her face pulls at my heart strings. I thought I could do this job but, I don't think I can. "Oh...my...fucking...God! It is you! Everyone will be so happy!" She throws her arms around me and hugs me tight. I return the hug as well. I miss her terribly.

"Maggie," I say her name and feel the heart strings pull harder. I almost just say screw this thing Hezekiah has going on but, I dont. "You can't tell anyone." I pull away from her.

"Why not?" Maggie asks looking confused. "Dean has been miserable without you and Sam," Her voice breaks a bit. "He's broken up seeing his brother like this. He stays up all night most nights making sure Dean doesn't just off himself."

I feel the tears start to form in the corner of my eyes. I hold them back though. I can't let her see that this effects me. I can't let her see that I miss him with everything in me but he wouldn't understand this. He wouldn't understand that I also need to see someone else.

I lick my lips and sit against the nearest tree. Maggie follows me. Part of me wants to scream for her run because of what I need to do. But again, I don't. "Did you and Sam ever hook up?" I ask her. I need to change the subject away from him.

Maggie blushes a bit. "We've talked about going out but, ever since we burned your body..."Her voice trails off. "There has never been a perfect time. I mean he's kissed me a few times but that's about it." Good, I think. That's really good but, also so very terribly sad. "What have you been up to and when the hell did you get back?"

"Some months ago," I smile a little. My hidden hand fumbles with the blade at my side. I need to make this quick. "I'm working on brining Michael back."

"What?" Maggie exclaims. "Why would you do that? He needs to stay in that crystal at the bottom of the ocean!"

With one quick, swift, and fluid movement, I slash her throat with my blade. "Because I need to and you're apart of what we need to bring him back. Blood from his world."

I watch as Maggie holds her throat, trying to keep the blood from spilling out. But the would is too deep, the blood seeps between her fingers. I take my camel back and open it and shove her bloody hand aside. I let as much blood spill into the bag as I can. I see the look in her eyes. Surprise and betrayal linger. She's gasping for air and as she does more blood spills out and down her neck and into her shirt.

When I'm satisfied with what I need and gently lay her down on the ground. I sit with her as she struggles to breath. Struggles to talk even. The light in her eyes start to fade. Her breathing slows and she stops talking. She's dead a few minutes later and I let a few tears fall. I lean over and close her eyes.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I needed to do this and I couldn't let you live."

I get up and angrily pull out my phone. I hit send on Hezekiah's number and it goes straight to voicemail. Damn self righteous, feathered ass dick needs to pick up the phone when I call. "I got your fucking blood, you asshole," I angrily say into the phone. "I hope your pompous dickless ass is satisfied." I hang up and shove the phone back into my pocket.

END OF FLASHBACK

I gasp for air once I am able to focus on everything in the room around me. I see Dean lean up off the door. Worry takes over his face. I feel Cas's hand slowly move from the sides of my head. I'm sure surprise is on his. My breathing is picking up and my body is cold and shivering. So many questions are running through my head right now but I need to process what the fuck I had just seen. What I did. Sam is never going to forgive me. Sam is most likely going to want to kill me if or when he finds out that it was me that killed Maggie. Actually there is no 'if' he finds out, it's only a matter of when he finds out.

"Untie me," I barely get out and yank at the binds that held me to the chair. Dean is moving but for some reason he's moving slow. "Fucking untie me, damn it." I scream and thrash around in the chair. Deans soothing words echo in the room as he quickly unties me. The binds come undone and I get up and sink against the nearest wall. I hug my legs to my chest and squeeze my eyes shut. My heart is beating hard in my chest. The tears are flowing

"What the hell happened?" Dean asks Cas. I can hear the worry in his voice "Did we get the answer we need?

"Yes," I hear Cas say. He sounds like he's catching his breath too. That must have taken a lot of energy. "And then some."

"So, tell me what happened," Dean demands. More from Cas than me.

I open my eyes and see Dean is kneeling next to me, staring at Cas who is also trying to process what had happened. What I did. Cas looks back at me and I have that 'oh shit' moment again. I take a deep breath and take Deans hand in mine.

"Dean," I say swallowing hard. He looks at me. The worry that he wears on his face makes me not want to tell him what happened. But I need to. I hold his hand tighter. "I killed Maggie. I killed her to bring Michael back."

I feel Dean slowly pull his hand away. I know it's not at the news of me telling him that I was the one who killed Maggie. It's at the news of brining Michael back. Dean knows about the connection Michael and I had. He knew of the dream like sex Michael and I had. This must feel like an absolute betrayal to him and I don't blame him for feeling that way.

"Cas," Deans voice is almost a whisper when he speaks. "Are you able to go back in? Tear down the wall so we can know more?"

"No," Cas says. "My energy was nearly drained. Something was pushing me back. And no I cannot tear down the wall. It is an angelic wall of protection used to keep things out once a traumatic even happens. So maybe when YN woke up covered in blood the other day. The angel that put it there has to be the one to remove it."

"Then we find that angel," Dean stands up and starts to walk out the room. "That wall needs to come down so we can know more about if Michael is back." He turns back to me. I see some hurt in his eyes and I hate myself for it. What other horrible things have I done?

"I'm sorry," I choke out.

"I know," Dean looks away from me. My heart hurts even more but, I brought this upon myself. "No one speaks a word of this to Sam. He can't know about this yet." Dean leaves the room leaving me with Cas.

Cas walks over to me and helps me to my feet. "Michael is a huge sore spot for Dean. It is a part of his life that he wants to erase. So hearing that he could or is back...just give him some space."

"So it has nothing to do with the mark or the dream sex?" I ask wiping my face of tears.

Cas shakes his head. "Dean knows that Michael only used you as a pawn in his plan."

I fake a smile. "Okay."

The rest of the day is slow. I spent more time in my room that I wanted. Dean doesn't ignore me at all. He checks in on me and makes sure I'm doing okay. He makes sure I have water or soda or even a strong drink at hand and some food to eat. This eases my mind some. Dean even tells me that he isn't mad about my past with Michael. Just that we have to deal with him again.

The real reason why I'm in my room is that Sam is back at the bunker and every time I saw his face before retreating into my room, I saw Maggies happy face when she talked about Sam and then I would see her lifeless face. The blood that slowly flowed from her neck. I knew that I couldn't face Sam without him knowing the truth.

"So when should we go after this spineless dick?" Dean says in my doorway. He's holding a six pack and a box of pizza. He looks so attractive right now. Any girls dream come true. I remember first meeting him, he was the kind to have multiple one night stands. Then slowly those stopped and eventually he somehow started to chase me and I guess death wouldn't stop that.

"I honestly don't know," I pat the spot next to on my bed and Dean waltz on in. Its a lie and I don't want him knowing I already have a plan in place. Dean cracks open two beers and hands me one while I get myself a slice of pizza. "The more I want to know what else I've done the more I'm scared as hell to find out." Now thats the truth. I want to know but freaked the fuck out that I could have killed another human to bring Michael back.

"Whatever we plan," Dean takes my hand and kisses it. For someone who claims he hates the romance part of relationships he does that part really well. "We are in this together."

"Together," I repeat.

After a few old crappy movies, Dean is out. His soft snores tell me he's already in a deep sleep. I pick up the beer bottles and pizza box and stuff them in the kitchen trash. I make my way back to the room and stare at Dean sleeping there in my bed. I could lay next to him for another hour but I know I will pass out and I wouldn't have another opportunity like this again.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard, I pull out a duffle bag and start to shove clothes and stuff into the bag. I sneak to Deans room and throw a few guns in another bag. I head back to my room and leave a small note for Dean propped up on a glass of water. I lean towards him and kiss his forehead. I hate to do this and it kills me but, I need to do this. To protect Dean.

I make my way towards the kitchen again and grab a random set of keys to the many cars in the bunker. Just as I was about to walk into the bunker garage, I run right into Sam.

"Hey there," Sam steadies me. "Dean says you haven't been feeling good." Then he notices the bags I carry. "You're leaving?"

I scoot pass Sam without making any kind of eye contact with him. I can't look him in the eyes knowing what I did. "I have a lead on how to get my memories back. I'm going to check it out."

"By yourself?" Sam asks. "Dean told me that Cas tried to access your memories but you have a very strong wall up. Only the angel who put it there will be able to take it down."

I decide to turn around and look at Sam. He doesn't know and he looks at peace right now. "I have to." I adjust the bags on my shoulders as they are starting to feel heavy. "It deals with Michael and I don't want Dean to be apart of this because of Michael. We don't know if his body will get hijacked again." Thats a lie, I remember that dream I had on the way to the bunker where there was vessel like thing in the room with a dreaded hair man. Maybe that's Hezekiah.

"Well let me come with you," Sam suggets.

"No," I quickly say. "You can't. You have to stay here."

Sam stares at me. I can tell that he's trying to figure out what's going on. I can see the red flags that he sees. "Something happened that Dean doesn't want me to know, is that right? I can tell in your eyes that you're freaked out."

I lick my lips. "A memory he doesn't want you knowing about just yet."

"What is it?" Sam asks firmly.

I take a deep breath. Dean is going to super pissed at when he finds out that I told his baby brother. Swallowing deeply I say, "The memory that Cas was able to pull out from me was me killing Maggie."

As if it were in slow motion, I see Sams face fall. I watch the color drain from his face. Sadness, pain and anger replace whatever emotions he had on before. He just stares at me and I see a small tear from his eyes. All I want to do is hug him and tell him how sorry I am. But I know nothing i do will be able to make him feel better.

I quickly turn on my heel and rush to the garage. I throw my bag into the car whose key I chose and was on the road in less than ten minutes. A minute later my phone rings. I look at it and see that it's Dean calling.

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