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[k-evans-reads]

The Spare

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Summary: When Princess Rosie unexpectedly is thrust into a political tour of the country, a working-class Air Force Captain is assigned to be her pilot. Although the princess is unhappy about the decision, she realizes she’s stepping into unknown territory when the unexpected happens

Intro l Main Masterlist | The Spare Masterlist

By @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

Word Count: 5,672

The door shut firmly behind the Princess’ Private Secretary, leaving the four highest-ranking members of the Royal Family in the oversized room alone. An uneasy silence lingered past the echo’s reverberation, only adding to Rosalie’s anxiety. She shifted on the plush cushion, running her hand along and smoothing her skirt as she cleared her throat and looked towards her father, asking, “What did you hear from the doctor? Do they know for sure what’s going on?”

The prim-and-proper King was unusually disheveled, wearing a wrinkled dress shirt, bare feet, and unstyled hair. It was always ingrained in the Royal Family from a young age that they were to uphold the image, the one of privilege, beauty, and elegance. She could still remember from a young age the uncomfortable hours on end she’d stand straight at parades, waving and smiling at each cheering member of the public as her feet ached and cried for relief. But as the years went on, the more strict the rules would become. Seeing the vast juxtaposition of the way her father looked now only reminded her how serious this was.

Her brow arched as she took her father’s appearance in more - the heaviness in his expression, the rigidity of his frown, the hunch of his shoulders. “They’re still looking into things further but what they know for sure is that it was a heart attack,” King Joseph began, pausing as his eyes danced over the portraits of their ancestors hanging from the walls around them. Then, Rosie felt a pang of sympathy as the familiar mask slipped over Joseph, as if an outsider or staffer walked into the room - the way the tension and strain left his body in a microsecond as he sat up straight, his frown leaving his face. “They think I’ll be fine but I probably do need some time to recover.”

A soft tut echoed from her mother’s lips - one that barely toed the line of daring to challenge him - before Genevieve gently corrected his words to their children, “No, they told him he had to have time to recover.”

Rosie’s head turned to look at James as he opened his mouth, but then took a beat then let out a breath as he delicately asked, “So what does that look like?”

The tension returned to Joseph’s body and in Rosalie’s stomach as reality set in for everyone. Everyone knew that this was a lot more than just a family worried about their father’s health, it meant so much for them and the country and she couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach as he answered, “Probably a month off completely.” The King admitted unhappily to the Prince and Princess. Subconsciously, her posture straightened as his eyes landed on her, and she avoided the desire to avert her eyes under his occasionally-scrutinizing gaze. “Which would mean that I do need you to take over my duties during that time, and Rosalie, I will need you to officially take James’ spot on the tour. I know you were hoping that you wouldn’t have to fill in but I am going to need you.”

“It’s fine, we want to do what we can to help you recover,” she began, pausing as she struggled with how to word her concerns. Navigating a relationship with her father had always been a little bit difficult when they had moments that were more normal and familial and others that were all business. Royal life may have been hailed as glamorous and exciting, but Rosie knew how complicated and burdensome it could be. At times they felt like a real family, loving and caring for one another and having honest conversations but other times, they had to stay restrained, knowing that no matter what, the crown always came first. The truth of the matter was that - at times - her father’s role and actions intimidated her. Rarely did she have the loving paternal figure at her side as a child, more often under the care of the Palace nannies while her parents fulfilled their roles. Her thumbs itched to fiddle nervously but she restrained herself, instead finally asking, “What are we going to do about touring the coast with all the protests going on? Are we cutting that out?”

The King nodded, his lips pursed as he sprung into what was likely an already prepared response, “Well I think-”

But Genevieve rested her hand on the King’s arm, causing him to cut off as she reminded him, “No, you need to let James decide. He’s the one who’s taking on your duties, remember?”

A huff of air left his lips as he nodded shortly. “You’re right,” he conceded. “James, what do you want to do?”

The eldest was quiet for a long beat, his fingers tapping lightly on the plush arm of the couch. He stared straight ahead as he thought, his eyes landing on one of the portraits as well until his gaze turned to her, asking, “Rosie, do you have thoughts?”

A smirk appeared on her lips as she looked at James, catching the amusement in his eyes at the action. “Cancel the tour and don’t make me go,” she muttered playfully, ignoring the frustrated sigh from both of her parents.

“Very funny,” James chided, lightly elbowing Rosie in the hip as her father stared at her plainly.

But Rosie shook her head, her eyes staring at James. “You know I’m not kidding,” she reminded him. She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes quickly moving over her father before she looked at James again, remembering her earlier conversations with him about their younger sister. “I do terrible on these things anyway, I think Annie should go instead.”

Quickly, the King interrupted the siblings, declaring, “That’s not happening, Anneliese is too young and inexperienced.”

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Rosie thought back to how different things had been for Annie as compared to herself and James’ childhoods. While Rosie and James spent much of their adolescence bouncing in and out of boarding schools, then stepping into international tours accompanied by the King and Queen, Annie had it different. She often was left behind at home, seen as “too young” while her siblings juggled their prestigious and elite schooling with the duties of active royals, despite their adolescence. There’d always been this double standard, and while she would do anything to keep Annie as far from the machine of Royal life, she wished she had the same choice for herself.

James simply arched an eyebrow, looking at the King and reminding him, “Aren’t I making the decisions here?”

But Joseph scowled, pointing out, “Well I haven’t heard you make one yet.”

Several beats of silence passed, the tension rising between James, Rosie, and Joseph. Finally, James huffed out a breath, running his hand over his shirt. “….Rosie you have to go,” he murmured, avoiding her eyes.

There was silence for a moment and Rosie could see how pleased James’ decision made their father. But despite that, she could see the struggle in James’ face as he contended with putting his sister or her duty first. “If we cut out the coastline visits though, then it would only be a month,” she began quietly, watching James carefully. “We would avoid the protests, and then I’d be back and dad can do the rest once he’s better. This seems like a great solution.”

Both father and son rolled their eyes at Rosie’s insistence in getting her way. She was steadfast in the fact that for four years now, she’d done more than her fair share of public service - spending more time on airplanes, trains, ships, and in cars than in her own bed. She’d missed so much, she missed her friends, getting to focus her efforts on her charity outreaches, and getting to see Annie grow into the young woman she was now. But despite that, it seemed no one else realized the toll covering for James and Joseph had taken on her.

“More like a great way of you getting out of this,” James retorted, his voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire next to them and the echo of footsteps passing by outside the closed door.

But Rosie’s brows furrowed at James’ words, frustration rising as her opinion continued to be ignored. “When James got back I was supposed to finally get a break,” she reminded them, her voice quiet but firm. And that had been the deal - she had graduated from university, then was thrown into four years of public duty with no downtime to breathe, all so James could serve in the Air Force. Any time she brought up needing a few days to herself, it had always been “Once James is home, you can… you’ll have all the time you need.” It seemed as though that promise was not only empty, but had been forgotten.

But the look in her father’s eyes showed Rosie that he remembered that promise - and yet he was continuing to break his word. “I’m sorry Rosalie,” he began, pausing delicately before adding, “But the positive of me being less visible while I recover is that it gives you the chance to be more involved.”

A scoff escaped Rosie’s lips and she didn’t care to stop it, letting her anger rise a bit. “What have I been doing the last four years, then?” She asked incredulously.

“You’ve been standing in James’ place and in his shadow but this is your chance to be Princess Rosalie, all on her own and be who you are, not fulfilling James’ role,” Joseph tried to reason with her, and she arched a single brow at him. Standing on her own, outside of James’ shadow?! As much as they all liked to pretend it wasn’t the case, she’d always been and always would be in his shadow. The first-born, golden child of Ellington. She’d never hold it against him, but she didn’t think there was a single conversation she’d ever had with anyone, whether other dignitaries, tutors, or acquaintances, where James wasn’t brought up despite his absence. When you’re constantly reminded of being the second-best, the spare, and the insurance when compared to the eldest, who had their own miserable circumstances as well. It was all impossible, and it seemed Rosie stepped on the Palace’s lines much more than anyone had in the past.

Heavy was the head that wore the crown, but the pressure forced upon Rosie seemed to rival it, even on the best days.

“I think we all know I can’t be who I am,” she started, her voice quivering in her rising frustration. She ran a hand along her skirt, fingers coming to rest on an errant strand of fabric that her seamstress evidently missed. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult, we just all know that none of this is me. I was happy to stand in for James while he did what he wanted being in the Air Force but I thought that it was finally my chance to have some space.”

James’ eyes showed the weight on him, the internal struggle between duty and family. He cleared his throat quietly before whispering, “It’s only two more months, Rosie.”

“It just seems like there’s always something else. You think it’ll be the end and then the rug gets pulled out from under you,” Rosie muttered, her fingers lightly twisting the fabric, careful to not pull it from the skirt.

Joseph’s expression seemed heavy, his eyes pointed towards the ground as a hand covered part of his face, deep in thought. “I know it’s not ideal, but we need you to do this,” he decided, eyes coming to meet Rosie’s before he gestured to James. “James is the ultimate authority on it though.”

The Prince nodded, his shoulders squaring resolutely. “We don’t have a choice. Rosie, it has to be you,” he agreed, his voice strained despite his confident demeanor.

Rosie shot a look at the silent Queen, her eyes watching the conversation between her husband and eldest children intently. As she met Rosie’s eyes, the young woman shot her a pleading look, all but begging her to speak up.

Their mother hummed, giving Rosie a tight-lipped smile. “I think there is a security risk though,” she conceded sweetly, and Rosie’s shoulders slouched as she let out a small gasp of relief as her mother - the normally silent, meek woman - spoke up on her behalf.

But James ignored the magnitude of the situation, simply stating, “Then we’ll get more guards and protection.”

Rosie didn’t suppress the eye roll this time, huffing as she did so. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. It had always been the King and Prince show - it always would be, that was simply the nature of their life. The heirs mattered above all else, and their opinions shaped the lives of every person in the family. But she had continually struggled with the idea of letting it dictate her life, she wanted nothing more than to have some semblance of autonomy, despite knowing it was never in the cards, at least not now.

But it didn’t mean James’ insistence didn’t hurt. She felt he always understood where she was coming from, always looked out for her and Annie. But now, she was really seeing James step into the leadership position for the first time.

“Or I just don’t go, just reminding you all that it’s an option,” she muttered, waving a hand. Her frustration was cresting as the two men ignored not only Rosie’s, but her mother’s points as well - points that in all honesty scared Rosie.

The situation outside of the capital of Ellington was tenuous at best. Tensions had been rising for months now, and while King Joseph’s decision to keep silent may have been smart at first, it had done nothing to turn the tide since. And now to be sent into the lion’s den in all honesty scared Rosie. She was no stranger to security protocols, risks, and threats, but this had much eclipsed any past risks Rosie knew of. Each member of the Royal Family was under a microscope, never deviating from an internal schedule, always accompanied by several security members. And that was just what Rosie knew - she was sure there was more she was not privy to that James and her father were aware of.

A sudden loud crackle of the fire brought her out of her thoughts to find James rising, moving to pour himself a drink from the carafe on the long table nearby. She watched the sharpness of his shoulders, the unfamiliar stressful strain as he moved, causing Rosie to arch a brow at the sight. “I have to be here to step up in dad’s place. Rosie, you’re going to have to get used to this more.” James spoke dismissively.

She couldn’t help but look at James, her brows raising as fast as her anger - reaching levels she never knew James could elicit. “I’m the one who’s been doing this the past four years, remember?” Rosie asked sarcastically, her voice anything but amused.

He avoided her eyes, a hand reaching to run down his face as he attempted a placating, “It’s only two more months…”

She pushed out a breath, ready to respond when a sharp knock sounded at the door. All eyes landed on the oversized double wooden doors as the King’s Secretary waited for any protest before the doors pushed open.

The sudden intrusion didn’t seem to take anyone by surprise, but Rosie’s brows quickly furrowed as the aide stepped aside to reveal Edward Henry - the Communications Secretary for the Royal Family - and quite honestly Rosie’s least favorite person, who was carrying a large stack of papers.

She’d long struggled with the ‘duty’ aspect of her birthright position, the responsibility forced on her by an institution when all she wanted was normalcy. But between a lack of a proper childhood, wanting a normal university experience, being outspoken by nature, and maybe having a few brushes with untrustworthy so-called ‘friends’, she’d landed herself on Edward Henry’s bad side… quite literally for life.

At her father’s warm greeting to Edward after his obligatory bows to each member of the family, Rosie’s frustration grew. She knew she shouldn’t have come - she’d had a bad feeling about this meeting ever since receiving word of it at breakfast. Her suspicions grew when she realized Annie was omitted from the group, removing what would’ve been Rosie’s only true ally from the room and all conversations. But now, to see that the intention was never to plan a tour or shift schedules around to accommodate the King’s sudden change in health…. It was to focus on her.

The Palace and Royal Family both had struggled at times with her, Rosie could admit that herself. She felt as though she could never do things right, never be the person they tried to mold her to be. She was rigid in ways the Institution needed her to be pliable, soft in the ways they needed her to be tough, and sour when they needed her to be sweet.

“You’re joking me right?” Rosie finally spoke, arching her brow at her father as he warmly shook Edward’s hand, seeing the label ‘ITINERARY’ scribbled across the files he began handing to her father.

The King’s face hardened instantly. “Rosalie, don’t even start,” he warned, holding out his hand for Queen Genevieve to greet Edward.

But Edward was unphased, used to her often brash ways. “Princess, we have your itinerary to go over and I’d like to discuss some different things we’d like you to incorporate in your speeches at each one. Also we have picked out which charities you’ll be endorsing along the tour,” he informed her, handing copies of the folders to her mother and brother before sitting in the empty armchair between the two occupied sofas. His hand moved to hand her a copy, but ceased when the furious expression on her face was noticed.

A bitter chuckle escaped her. “So none of this mattered,” she mused, frowning as she looked at her father pointedly. “No matter what I said or felt or even what James decided didn’t matter because everything was already decided on,”

But the man simply shrugged as he paged through the plans, brows furrowed while he sat down on the sofa again. “We had to make a plan,” he informed her, as if it was that simple.

With a roll of her eyes, Rosie pushed herself off the couch. “Fine, then make your plan. It’s obvious you don’t need me here for any of it,” she informed them, dropping her eyes as she moved towards the shut doors. She could hear the sharp breath her mother took at her outright rudeness towards not only Edward, but James and her father. A scowl crossed Rosie’s lips as her eyes prickled with tears and she focused on the sound of her heels as she raced to the door.

If anyone attempted to say anything or chastise her, she didn’t hear - nor did she care - as the door practically slammed behind her. The guards standing outside the door pointedly avoided her eyes, telling Rosie everything she needed to know about what they heard. She had already turned to leave the wing when that thought made her stop. Her lip was quivering as she met the older guard’s eyes - Albert, she reminded herself, he’d accompanied her to riding lessons as a young girl - and she was surprised when he silently led the other guard to stand across the hall instead without a word, giving her the encouragement she needed.

She stood just beyond the door, giving herself enough space to make an escape if needed, but close enough to be able to hear the conversation inside.

Despite her mother’s objection, they’d clearly moved on from her outburst as she heard her father speaking, his voice carrying easily. “James, there’s a lot riding on that tour. I don’t have to tell you with all the political tension going on and protests, everyone is going to be looking at this tour and how it goes.”

“What your dad is saying is you’re going to need to keep an eye on Rosalie,” her mother said, and Rosie’s brow furrowed. She’d been doing just fine the last few years - handling double duty without anyone batting an eye. Why is she all of the sudden not good enough? But she caught herself as she thought - remembering that the golden boy had been occupied with serving Ellington in the Air Force. They must’ve had to make due with “second-best”, and Rosie’s best was no longer good enough.

But she was surprised when James was the one to speak, defending her and saying, “She’s been in my place the last couple years though and she’s done fine.”

A bitter chuckle escaped Edward and Rosie wanted nothing more than to disappear at that second, admittedly it was all she’d ever wanted. “It depends on the way you look at it,” Edward pointed out.

But James wasn’t going down without a fight, pointing out, “Well the press love her. I mean, there isn’t hardly a week that went by that the people’s princess wasn’t splashed on some headline.”

The scowl returned and the tears threatened to leak from her eyes as Edward finally contributed, his voice like nails on a chalkboard to her as he said, “And that’s the problem. You may love Rosalie’s personality but currently she’s in line to the throne after you and represents the royal family. If she were the youngest it would be different but she has to start taking this seriously and be more neutral.”

She tapped her fingers against her side nervously. Rosie had always known that this was the opinion of her amongst those on the outside of the family, who worked to polish and prime them. They’d attempted to do so to her for years, but they’d always gotten along like oil and water. But to be confronted with this and to overhear this, to know her own parents felt this way, hurt.

However, a small flutter of hope settled in her as James again attempted to defend her, his voice unwavering as he said, “She’s right, she has stepped into my role the past couple years and done well.”

“We just don’t think she fully sees the weight of this because you’re the one who’s next in line to the throne,” Joseph admitted, and Rosie had to do everything she could to keep herself quiet.

Yes, James’ role was unique and seemed miserable in itself. He had no choice in his life, in his future, in anything - even more than Rosie. But to live this life solely being second-place, second-loved, second-everything to someone was a different kind of miserable. You couldn’t compare the two, but neither were ideal, and for anyone to try to frame it that way completely ignored everything both she and Annie had gone through.

The grating returned to Rosie as Edward - the absolute bane of her fucking existence - unnecesarily added, “Ellington has only ever had two Queens both of them knew how to fall in line. Nobody knows what to do with Rosalie and it’s not a great look for the palace.”

“People relate to her though!” James insisted, his voice rising.

“Royals aren’t supposed to be relatable, if they are, what’s the point of having them?” Edward challenged.

There was a long silence and Rosie found herself stuck between wanting nothing more to leave and forget this all ever happened, just like she had so many times before in her life, and wanting to creep closer as the fear of missing something grew as the silence continued. Her mind was still racing, fighting against itself as she stood frozen with nearly trembling ankles when she heard James’ voice. It was soft, as if the fight had left him as he helplessly asked, “…So what do you suggest I do?”

“Just do what you can to help this tour go well. A lot hinges on this and her,” Joseph encouraged, his voice suddenly softer as well. A slight scowl graced Rosie’s lips at that realization, knowing that James often got a side of their parents that neither she nor Annie ever got. He’d gotten the most time with them - whether because of duty or love, it almost didn’t matter. She saw how much Annie yearned to have the relationship James had with them, and she found herself wishing for it at times too.

Her ear pressed closer to the overly-ornate wooden doors, yearning to hear more, but she wished she hadn’t as Edward explained, “What the Prince said isn’t wrong. The public is for the Princess, but in this tumultuous time, we need her to present more stability. People need to be comforted knowing that the royal family is stable and has the country’s best interest at heart.”

She stared at the floor, brows furrowing and confusion flooding her at those words. Unstable? Her? Sometimes she felt like the only sane person in this equation.

Her confusion was shared as James - his voice strong and firm - pointed out, “I don’t think Rosie can really be categorized as unstable.”

But Edward simply chuckled again, explaining, “Saying things off script in speeches or breaking social norms for royalty is viewed as unstable.”

“We just need her to be a constant unwavering person that people can look up to, especially when it got leaked about my health.” Her father spoke strongly. Rosie felt a pang of sympathy - if this heart attack had never happened, then maybe this wouldn’t be happening. But it all seemed too convenient, the empty promises of privacy and autonomy, the sudden return of James. “We need steadiness. This tour is what can bring it and allow everyone to see Rosie as the one to help bring it.”

“I know she can do it, I just wish she didn’t have to,” James admitted, and Rosie sighed at those simple words, knowing just how much honesty was behind them.

She wasn’t surprised when her father spoke again, his words reeking of lessons a life in the public eye and service had given him. “Our life is a heavy burden at times, but whether good or bad, the crown has fallen on us. That includes Rosalie and we have to make sure we steward it well, and that matters more than any of our personal feelings.”

Tears burned at Rosie’s eyes as the weight of what they were saying sunk in. She wasn’t stupid, she was painfully aware of her image and what people thought of her. Her entire life was dictated by it and what was or wasn’t on the front page of a newspaper. The past four years she had done everything in her power to push down who the real Rosie was, trying to step into James’ shoes to allow him to have the bit of fleeting normalcy they all craved but always seemed to elude them. It had nearly killed her to shove so much of herself down, but she had done it for her duty, her country, and - most of all - for her brother. But now to hear that it wasn’t good enough? It felt like rubbing salt in the open wound on her heart.

She had absolutely no idea what else they could possibly want from her short of ripping away every single part of her personality. And the worst part? It seemed fruitless. No matter what she did, it just always fell short. Her only saving grace that kept some hope alive inside of her was that James was back. He was her only shot at being able to get some of herself back that had been buried little by little.

Once Rosie heard the group stand and pleasantries being exchanged among her parents and Edward, she raced away from the door and down the hall, not wanting to be seen. She wiped furiously at her eyes as she grappled with the onslaught of information, but quickly had to push it from her mind as her assistant called out to her, plastering a smile on her face as Claire began to explain what they needed to do to prepare for the gala honoring the military that evening.

___________________________________________________

Rosie had kept the smile glued to her face all evening, determined to be on her best behavior. While she may have chosen the other option in the past - the “fine, I’ll be what you think of me” option - today, she couldn’t. If she did, she knew what was at risk, what was on the line, and she just couldn’t stomach willingly doing it tonight.

She’d made her rounds, thanked as many service members she could find, listened to as many stories as she could stomach, laughed as many times as she could without a hint of humor actually being behind it, and had finally escaped to the side room with Claire to fix the strap of her heels when James slipped into the otherwise-empty room.

She avoided his eyes with everything in her, instead taking a long sip of her champagne to quell her nerves when James came to stand next to her, his voice low despite Claire’s proximity.

“Rosie c’mon, I know you don’t want to do this. I get it. I wish I could give you a break but I don’t have a choice,” he pleaded.

Her shoulders hunched, knowing he was truly stuck. He had to live up to what their father expected - what everyone expected - but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to go against her big brother. “I know you don’t, and I don’t mean to make it harder on you. I just suck at all of this, James.” she explained.

“No you don’t. The press is for you, everyone loves you,” he reminded her, his voice soft and sweet. She appreciated the sentiment - but it felt empty to her after what she had overheard merely hours earlier.

“I just was hoping I’d finally have a break,” she admitted with a whisper, not knowing how to put it more simply than that.

James sighed, his frustration at the impossible situation evident. “I’m sorry, Rosie,” he murmured, and there was no doubt in Rosie’s mind that he was honest. “I love you and you know I’m going to do what I can to make it easier.”

“I love you too and I don’t want to be difficult, I really don’t,” she explained, turning as Clarie finished and scampered back into the party, leaving the siblings alone with the guards standing by the doors. “I’m just… disappointed I guess and I feel bad because I don’t want to make this worse on dad or you. I just hate doing these tours.”

“I had an idea though,” James began, pausing as Rosie arched a brow at him. He took a deep breath, evidently steeling himself.“What if I asked my friend to be your pilot for the tour? You remember Chris, right? My best friend from the Air Force? He’s standing out there right next to the bar.” He asked, pointing through the glass doorway to Chris.

Rosie sighed, not feeling like any of this was a good idea - especially from James - after this afternoon. There was just too much going on, Rosie feeling like so much had been shaken today. “Can’t Martin do it?” She asked, her voice meek. She knew if she had to go on this tour, if she had to deal with the risks and the tensions associated with it, that comfort would do her good. And Martin - the longtime Palace Security Head, who all but attended all of her birthday parties growing up and was truly like a father to her, would fit the bill.

“I need to pick someone who can also be with you to certain events to be your security and we both know Martin is getting too old for that,” James explained, nudging her with his elbow. “C’mon, would I stick you with someone shitty? Chris is the only person who treated me like a normal guy. You’d get along with him great and I can trust him.”

“I just…” Rosie’s voice started to trail as the feelings inside her were unable to come out of her mouth.

James’ eyebrows arched as he reached out a hand to rest on her arm, softly prodding, “What?”

There was so much Rosie wanted to say, but she knew at this point it didn’t matter. Everything had been decided for her as it had been for so long and she just quietly admitted, “I just wish I didn’t have to do this.”

Although James moved to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a gentle hug, Rosie felt anything but comforted. For years she had looked forward to James returning from the Air Force, especially with his voluntary choice to stay in the service for two years longer than was customary for royals. She remembered that call, James explaining that being in the Air Force was the first time he had felt normal, been treated normal, and felt like he had a bigger purpose and that he wanted to stay longer. Rosie knew it meant she had to step up to stay in his shoes longer than anticipated but she was willing to do it for him.

But it was finally going to be her turn. She was going to be able to pull back from the spotlight, disappear the way she had wanted to for so long and try to have some semblance of a normal life. All of that had been ripped away from her in what felt like an instant, prolonging and making her presence on the country even bigger which was the absolute opposite of what she wanted, but Rosie knew she didn’t have a choice.

Two months. She could do anything for two months. And then she’d be free.

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Midnight Rain Ch. 3

Rich Mans World Series | Man After Midnight Series | Chapter 2 | Donations | Thoughts & Feelings

“It’s nice to meet you Steve,” you shook his hand before furrowing your brows. “Steve Rogers….I know that name….did you grow up around here?” you asked before smiling. “Im Y/N Y/L/N ...oh well Y/N Evans now…um, well….” you held a confused face before smiling. “It's complicated…” he grinned and nodded. “I did, I know your father, we actually grew up together, well kinda, I mean when we were younger we played together.” he smiled. You laughed a little, “Yeah, that's right you were scrawny,” he chuckled and nodded, a tint of red covering his cheeks, “sounds like I made an impression on you then.” You smiled and nodded, “You were pretty nice, how's life been treating you?” you asked as he shrugged, “alright, I uh, broke up with my girlfriend about a year ago, moved back here to start over in a more comfortable setting.” you nodded as he reached into his pocket. “You should call me sometime, we could go get coffee together, catch up,” he handed you a card. 

You gently took it, before you could even realize what you were doing or saying you nodded, “Yeah, that sounds great actually.” you smiled softly as he grinned. “Great! Hey, I gotta head out but I’ll talk to you soon yeah?” you nodded “yeah, it was great seeing you,” you smiled as he leant down and pecked your cheek before winking at you and walking away. You watched him go, staring over every inch of him. “What the fuck was that?” Brooke asked, causing you to jump and look at her. “Brooke, Jesus you scared me…” you said, taking a breath before she started in. “So this morning, you’re cuddled up in bed with your husband and now this afternoon you’re getting kissed by men in a store?!” You glared at her. “I grew up with Steve, he’s an old friend.” you walked up tossing your basket into her cart, “and lets not forget what my “husband” did to me. Had he not been out screwing anything with two legs and a pussy, maybe my baby wouldn’t have died because my husband would have been there to protect me and her.” you glared at Brooke, something in you this morning had just...clicked back in place. Maybe it was Chris, maybe it was seeing him treating you so delicately, you didn’t know, but that mourning and grieving stage was over, you’d officially moved on to the anger stage of your grief. 

See, that’s the thing about grief…there's 5 stages to it. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Everyone plays it off as if these 5 stages happen to you in some certain order. Like “oh! I’ve moved on from depression! Now I'm in acceptance.” But for you, that wasn’t the case. Your first stage was acceptance. When you woke up in the hospital you accepted what had happened to you and your baby. You knew it was some evil son of a bitch who was probably after Chris and wanted to hurt him. Your first stop would be the Irish, seeing how they wanted to ensure Chris felt some kind of pain for how Tristan was done. Your second stage was depression, you remained depressed for months and even now, you knew you were officially in the anger stage. 

You turned, walking away from her and heading out of the store toward the car, Brooke watched after you, concern filling her features. What was going on with you? This sudden change in you had her nervous, were you diving off the official deep end? 

You stood out by the car, pulling your phone out and dialing the number off Steve's card, “Hey! It’s Y/N, I was going to see if you wanted to get coffee tomorrow? If so, just either text or call me and we can set up a time.” you smiled and ended the call leaving him a voicemail. You looked around, watching people walk around the parking lot, coming and going to the store, you sighed. All you had wanted was a normal, simple life. You knew being with a mobster would never, ever, be a normal life, but you had hoped with Chris everything would be different. 

Brooke came out a few minutes later and began to load the bags into the car. You held your hand out after helping her. She looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “What?” She asked with a slight attitude. “Keys.” you said, staring at her. “What? No, this is my car!” she looked shocked you’d even asked. You however, raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, whose car is this?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. Brooke cleared her throat, “Sorry it's technically your car, but I’ve been driving it for so long now it just feels like my car, but I think you shouldn’t drive yet.” she said as you shook your head. “Sorry Brooke, I’m back, now give me my keys so we can get our asses back to work.” she stared at you nervously as she handed you the keys. 

Chris sat at the kitchen island, drinking a cup of coffee and wondering what switched in you, suddenly you were ready to get up and go to the store? Bucky had explained that since you’d come back to their apartment you hadn’t done anything regarding leaving the house. He wondered if you were feeling more like yourself since the two of you had reconnected on some level. He smiled softly, hoping to hear from you today. Maybe he’d invite you out for dinner one night this week. He’d have to see when he had a free night, he had several new clubs opening and needed to make an appearance at them. 

Chris was beginning to have some hope that, maybe one day you’d be back in his arms, living here at home with him again. You’d be allowed to properly mourn the loss of your child and he’d be there to comfort you, while also mourning himself. He didn’t understand who would have done such a horrid thing. He called Anthony and Sebastian, telling them he wanted to meet with them whenever they were free that day. He began planning a security detail to watch over you. He then wanted to start looking into each and every person that had come into contact with the two of you since you’d married him.

Chris smiled to himself, so maybe you didn’t want to get divorced after all, maybe now you two would be a family again. He would find who had hurt you, who had hurt your baby, his sweet little girl, and he would make them pay. He would remind the world of who he was, what he was capable of. He would burn the entire world to the ground if that meant you would come back to him. All he wanted was for you to come back home.

You drove around, taking calls, making stops. Brooke was texting Sebastian, telling him every move you were making. “That’s fine, I can work with that. Tell him I want to meet face to face. I dont give a shit if he’s busy! I’m trying to find out who murdered my child!” you yelled. “Now text me with the god damn details or your head is next on my fucking platter!” you hung up the phone throwing it in the backseat with anger. “Maybe we should head home now Y/N, Sebastian wants to start on dinner and plus, it was a big day! You got back to your old self, maybe a nice hot bubble bath and a glass of wine? Sounds pretty good huh? And, we can even get into work mode for tomorrow.” Brooke said as you huffed. “Relax Brooke, I’m not crazy, I’ve just realized it's time to get back to work and get this shit figured out.” you said, glancing at her. Your phone buzzed in the back seat as you headed back toward Brooke and Sebastian's place. 

Steve had texted you, telling you he was absolutely free to meet for coffee, and he wanted to meet up with you at 11am, which worked out perfect for you because you could get your life back on track. You stood in your bedroom staring at the sight before you. You began packing up boxes, labeling them as donations or keep before moving down the hallway to the door that hadn’t been opened in months. 

You opened the door, revealing the stuffy and slightly dusty light pink nursery; boxes sat unmade against the wall with packing tape and bubble wrap sitting in front of them. You looked at the dresser, the small pink urn sat in the middle. You purse your lips looking around before taking a deep breath and stepping inside, closing the door gently behind you. It was time you started healing, and this was the first step.

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[andydrysdalerogers]

Can I Count on Your Love? ~ Chris Evans

Pairings: Chris Evans x F!Reader

Summary: Its been a year since the events of "Can I Count on Your Vote?" and you and Chris have some adult fun. But others decide its time for you two to end and one photo could destroy you both...

Word Count: 6.8k

Song: Adore You by Harry Styles

Warnings: Smut! Angst! Language, jealous, Chris in political mode, P in V, committed relationship, oral (M and F receiving), car sex,

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day everyone. This is a follow up to my other one shot which you can find here.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

Politics is a cat and mouse game.  You are either chasing someone to bring them down or you are on the chopping block.  

Being the youngest senator made you the easy target, someone that the old guard hated for changing the status quo.  

Chris loved how ambitious, tenacious, strong, driven, and beautiful you were. You would both lay for hours in bed, talking about how you both would change the world. Chris had no aspirations to be in office, but you had the ultimate goal in mind: being the first female president.  Germany had done it, Great Britain has female prime ministers, so why couldn’t we do it here? 

It was especially significant as the press and other political analysts were predicting that you could be the one to pull it off.  The ASP chat helped launch your first bill about student debt in Congress, gaining the following of many around the country.  It was touted as the first major move toward a potential historical presidential run.  Chris said that ASP was doing even better because it was now being legitimized by everyone as a great source of verified information. That was his goal, to have a clean source of information for his fellow citizens.  

Speaking of Chris, it's been about a year since you had decided to make it official.  Well as official as it could be seen, it was still a secret to most of the world.  After the ASP Chat on tuition went viral, a lot of speculation was made on whether the two of you were together due to the intense chemistry seen in the interview. But your teams made sure you were never photographed together; rendezvous were made on the low.  Mostly it was you and Chris or your families hanging inside the gates of Chris’s house or your heavily secured apartment in either California or DC.  It was tough but you both made it work.  

Gearing up for the next session of Congress, you were reviewing your schedule with Steve, your assistant, when your receptionist, Ava, came in with a huge bouquet of roses.  There were at least three dozen in different shades of red, white and pink.  You smiled, knowing it was probably from Chris.  Ava sits them down in the corner of your desk.  “There’s a note, ma’am.” 

You plucked the little card with a smile as your team waited patiently.  

I know your secret.  

And a photo floated out of the envelope.  

Your smile froze and slowly morphed into fear.  “Steve, I need the head of my security detail. Now. Ava, I need Chris and Megan as well.”  They scurried from the room as you stared at the little card.  You tried to swallow, get your breathing to calm as you noticed you were beginning to hyperventilate.  The room began to tunnel as you tried to think of how anyone would know.  As the phone began to ring, the room wobbled slightly.  You could hear Ava say it was Chris, who was in town for ASP.  You picked it up. “Chris?” 

“Hey Baby.” When all he heard was a sob, he began to panic.  “Baby? YN? YN! Answer me.”  

“They saw us,” you whispered.  

And the room went black.  

A month prior… 

“Chris, stop!” You squealed as Chris’s hand drifted higher and higher up the skirt of your dress.  You had managed to have a private dinner at little Greek diner in Boston and Chris was driving you back to his house.  Well, he was driving and coping a feel up your dress.  He was horny, seeing you in his favorite little black dress and heels.  He loved that you didn’t wear a lot of makeup either, just that gorgeous red lip that set off your exquisite eyes.  Eyes that he saw the first time on stage in the California sun.  

“Baby, you can’t wear this dress and not expect me to keep my hands to myself,” Chris said as you batted his hands away.  

“You can wait until we get home and then I can let you know what’s underneath this dress,” you said with bite to your lower lip.  

Chris groaned as his cock twitched.  “Fuck me, sweetheart.  I don’t think I can make it.” He saw a darken alley and pulled over.  

“What do you think you are doing?” You looked around to see it was so dark you couldn’t see the trees or the road once Chris shut off the lights. Even your security team wasn’t in sight.  

“I need to feel you, beautiful.  I need to be inside you and I can't wait.”  He leaned over and kissed you hard, taking your breath away, distracting you from the fact he took off your seatbelt.  His hands, his large, gorgeous hands grip your waist and lower to your ass, lifting you and sliding you onto his lap.  You gasp as you feel how hard he is underneath you. He groans at how hot you feel over his erection. “Jesus, baby.”  

“Chris,” you moan as he begins to assault your neck, the brush of his beard rubbing your delicate skin just the right way.  

Chris raised his hands all the way up your skirt, his nimble fingers on his right finding your heat while his left continued upwards to your breast. He dipped his hand inside your panties to find you hot and wet for him. “Oh honey, all for me,” as he swirled your leaking juices around your lips, just brushing your clit and making you jolt.  

“All for you, my love,” you groan as he speeds up his motions, now tweaking your breast, hardening the nub as you begin to grind in his lap.  

“Fuck sweetheart, I need to have you,” he whispers in your ear. He pulls his hand from your heat, listening to you whimper from the loss of his fingers. He quickly undoes his belt and his fly as you continue fondling your own breast. He pulls down his jeans and boxers enough to release his long thick cock and pump a few times before he moves your now soaked panties aside and thrust up into your pussy.  

“Chris!” The stretch was incredible, the pleasure and pain mixing in a way that you had never felt before.  The primal way Chris just rutted up into you was so different but oh so good. He took a hold of your hips to guide you up and down his shaft hard.  

“Just like that baby, ride me hard.  Let me fuck you senseless,” he growled. It was rough, it was fast. It was everything.  The ribbons of pleasure started to ripple in your belly as your core began to grip his cock every time you moved.  He sat up a little bit more, changing the angle and he was there.  Hitting that spot inside that always made you see stars.  

“Baby, I can’t...” 

“Let go Senator,” he whispered in your ear. “Let me feel you.  Soak me, love.” He thrusted up hard as he pulled you down.  

“Chris!”  You scream as you blacked out from the immense pleasure. Your head tilted back as Chris pressed his face into your chest as he chased his own end.  He could barely move with how tight you had gotten with your own orgasm, and it was enough for him to swear loudly as he came inside you.  

It took a minute to come down, Chris kissing your shoulder, neck, forehead until he felt your body start to relax.  “Are you ok?” 

She smiled but flinched when he moved slightly. “I’m ok.  That was intense.”  

Chris frowned, worry overcoming.  “Did you not like...” 

“I loved it, Chris.  I like it rough and dirty sometimes.  Don’t worry baby.  I’m ok.”  You kissed his forehead to smooth out the worry lines on his face.  “Right now, I’m trying to figure out how to get back in my seat without making more of a mess.” You could feel the wetness that is getting ready to seep out.  

That got Chris to chuckle.  “Don’t worry baby.  Once we get home, the gates close and no one is the wiser.”  He kissed you softly this time.  “I love you.”  

“I love you.”  

You got back into your seat as Harry Styles's Adore You started to play as Chris started the car.  He took your hand and held it as he drove. He hummed along until he turned to you and sang... 

Oh, honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you 

Present... 

“Sweetheart? YN? Can you hear me?” 

It was the sweetest voice you knew.  The voice of the man you loved. It was the only soothing thing your senses could understand.  The rest was painful.  Your head was pounding, your body ached, the blood pounding in your ears.  After a moment, the soothing voice was now followed but gentle touches in your hair.  Finally, your throat felt like it would accept air and allow you to speak.  Your eyes fluttered and a groan escaped your mouth.  

“Baby? Are you with us?” 

The light was harsh in the room.  Your office.  Was your office always so bright? It took a couple of blinks of your eyes before you could focus and see Ava, Steve, Robert (your head of security) and Chris, who held your head in his lap.  “Hi?” 

“Hi. How are you feeling?” 

“Sore, a little confused. What happened?” 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “You fainted while on the phone with me.” He helped you sit up as Ava passed a glass of water.  “Baby, what happened?” 

You looked at the arrangement of roses and began to cry. “Someone sent me those with a note and a photo.” Robert went to the desk and saw everything on the floor.  His eyes widened as he looked back at you.  

“Miss YLN, I don’t...” 

“How did they get that Robert?  You told me we weren’t being followed.  We weren’t even seen.”  

Chris frowned. “Can I see that?” Robert handed the note and photo over.  Chris saw and sucked in his breath.  It was clearly a photo of you and him in the car from that night.  You were still in Chris’s lap as Chris held you by your neck, kissing you. “Holy fuck.”  

“What are we going to do Chris?”  

“I don’t know.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  He pulled out his phone and messaged Megan about an emergency meeting.  “We are going to meet at your house with Robert, Megan and your chief of staff and we are going to figure this out.”  

You nod, because it’s the sensible thing to do.  But your heart felt fear, your head was on the metaphorical chopping block.  

Later that night, both of your teams gathered in your dining room.  

Megan looked at the picture and sighed.  “Can one of you explain what happened?” 

Chris cleared his throat and explained the dinner and pulling over and just having a moment of unadulterated love between himself and you.  “We thought we were alone.  I mean, I didn’t even see her security team.  It was just one moment.”  

Rachel, your chief of staff, was taking notes and scoffed.  “Yeah, well, that one moment has the potential of going viral.  

“Can you even tell it's us?” Chris asked.  

Robert looked at the photo.  “It’s a blurry photo. It has deniability to it unless the photographer has cooperating evidence of who is in the car.  I’m going to sit down with the security team from that night and find out what happened.”  

“And I think that we shouldn’t do anything unless there is an obvious threat,” Rachel said.  I mean right now it’s someone saying they know but it doesn’t mean it’s someone from the other side.  I say we wait it out.  Jumping to action may be worse at this point.”  

“I agree.”  Megan looked at the photo. “Reaction would be bringing a spotlight to you two when it's not needed.”  

You didn’t realize you were trembling until Chris took your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.  “Baby, what do you think?”  When you didn’t answer, Chris placed his hand on your cheek to get you to focus on him. “YN, sweetheart, it's gonna be ok.  Do you think this is a good plan?” You looked into the ocean blues that comforted you so many times before.  They looked resolute in the decision, and you trusted that.  You nodded but still a single tear slipped.  “Honey, what is it?” 

“I’m scared,” you whispered.   

Chris’s heart dropped.  He didn’t want his girl to be scared, not his brave warrior girl. He sucked in a breath to steady himself before he said, “Don’t be. I’ll be right by your side.  Don’t you worry.” He kissed your forehead before he kissed your lips and kept his forehead against yours, your breaths mixing together as you both tried to keep calm.  

A few weeks later, everything seemed to be back to normal.  There were no more flowers, no other notes.  You and Chris talked every day, just as before.  You were on the phone with the governor of California when Rachel ran into the office.  Flustered would have been the nice word to use.  She looked like she had been tossed by a tornado.  “Sorry governor, I have to be on the floor in a few minutes.  Send my office the proposal and I’ll see what I can do to get this to the committee.  I think you're right; we need to beef up the national parks act, and it should start with Yosemite.  

“Thank you, Senator.  We’ll see you for the Lunar New Year celebrations?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it.  Have a great day!”  You hung up and looked at Rachel.  “What’s going on?” 

“I’m so sorry Senator, it broke.” She handed over her tablet 

“What broke?” You took the tablet and focused on the screen.  And there it was, in full color was the photo.  With an amazing headline: 

DOES THE RISING STAR FRESHMEN SENATOR HAVE A SIDE JOB IN BOSTON? – IS THE HOT SHOT SENATOR FROM CALIFORNIA TRADING FAVORS FOR DONATIONS?  

You blanched as you scroll through the article.  It was still speculation that it was you but that it was clear from the photo that someone was caught in a compromising position inside of a car.  The news site was still looking for more information, but an anonymous source implicated the Senator from California as the woman in the photo.  

You could hear the office phones ringing as the screen blurred in your eyes.  You read the article title over and over, wishing it would change to anything else, anyone else.  Rachel could see you were starting to lose it as she was on the phone with someone.  

“I've got to get out of here,” you whispered.  It was like your body was now on automatic pilot. You stood up, grabbed your coat and bag and headed out the door. Your security team was trying to stop you, but you made it out the front door of your office to a barrage of flashes.  The press was already all over the scandal, shouting questions and taking pictures of what would be a rather stunned face.  Security from your office and the Capitol police surrounded you to allow you to walk to your waiting SUV.  Rachel had been right behind you, shouting no comment as you walked trance-like.  Robert had the door open for you and Rachel before climbing in the front and your usual driver, Edward, took off. 

“Senator? Senator, look at me.” You turned your face slowly towards her. “I am going to get you through this.  I’m trying to reach Chris or Megan to find out if it leaked from their camp.”  

All you could do was nod.  Four years of campaigning and working with other bi-partisan members was going down the drain as your phone kept pinging with more and more news outlets reporting the story.  It was the ultimate nightmare.  

The only solace was the security at your home.  Gate controlled, security had called the police to make sure the road was cleared, and cameras were everywhere. But it provided very little comfort.  All you wanted was Chris, but he was on set at the moment. Rachel was pacing, calling who she could to pull the story as you sat on your couch, leg bouncing, checking your phone every five minutes.  After two hours, a call came to Rachel.  

“Yeah.  Hi Stacy... Yes, we saw it...  No, we haven’t...  What do you mean?... That's not what he promised her... What does Megan... oh... well what is she... ok... I’ll tell her. Thanks.”  Rachel hung up and sat down next to you. “YNN, that was Stacy, Megan’s assistant at her firm.  Umm, she stated that Megan and she talked to Chris, and they aren’t going to be making a statement.  Since no one knew you two were in a relationship, there was no need to drag Chris into it.”  

“What?” You breathed.  “He... he promised to stand by me.”  

“I know sweetie but that’s what they have decided.”  

Your head spun.  You wouldn’t believe that Chris would do this. He didn’t even have the guts to tell you himself. You picked up your phone and sent him a message.  

YN: We just spoke to your management firm and know about your decision.  I thought we loved each other but I guess I was mistaken.  Don’t worry I won’t drag you into this.  Goodbye Chris.  

You went through your contacts and blocked his number. You did the same on your socials and put your phone down. “Rachel, what is the statement we want to put out?”  You put on your game face.  Your heartache and tears could come later.  

The next day, Rachel called a press conference in front of your office.  You chose to be yourself in a sharp black suit with a pink blouse and black heels.  It was your confident outfit, and you would need every ounce of it to make the statement you needed to make.  The makeup artist touched up your face and then it was time.  

“Good morning, let me first address the photo.  Yes, I did engage in some intimate acts with someone in a vehicle.  To protect their privacy, I will not be naming my partner ever.  Second, my security team is launching an investigation into the photo as we know it was not a member of the press who invaded my private moment.”  You took a breath, “I should have had better judgement in where I had my intimate relations at and used better judgement overall.  The blame for this is on me alone.  If my constituents are upset by my actions, I sincerely apologize.  I have strived to be an example to everyone and in this case, I wish I wasn’t.  The man I was with is no longer in my life and I would like to extend my apologies to him for this transgression.  I will be meeting with the chair of the Senate ethics committee for all punishments and/or reprimands that I have earned.  Thank you.  

You walked away from the media circus and back to the seclusion of your office.  As you sat, Rachel came to give you a hug.  Now you can mourn.  And you did just that.  

Chris’s POV 

The person you are trying to reach is not accepting calls at this time.  

Chris looked at his phone, heartbroken.  You had blocked him.  Chris watched the press conference playback with mixed emotions.  He was so proud of you for standing up and accepting responsibility, but he should have been by your side making his own statement.  He looked at the last message he received and called Megan. “What the hell, Megan! Why are we not standing next to her?”  

“Chris you are filming, and I hadn’t even had a chance to talk to you before her team advised us that she was going to make a statement.”  

“Who did they talk to?” 

Megan waited for a beat. “Stacy. Look Chris...” 

“Megan, I want her fired.  I told you she had been inappropriate with me multiple times and now this.  She wanted YN to break up with me because she thought I would go out with her.  I am in love with YN, and she just fucked that up!”  

“I know Chris, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it.”  

“How?  She blocked me, she’s angry.  She...” he took a breath because his body was vibrating with pain, “she took that bullet for me all alone. Her entire career... she did that for me.”  

“Chris, we will fix it okay? Let me handle Stacy.”  

“I want to be there Megan. I want to see her face when I say that I am in love with YN. I need YN back, Megan.”  

“I know.  I’m sorry. I’ll make the arrangements.”   

Chris hung up and looked though the pictures on his phone. His perfect girl. Fuck, he was the one who pulled over, but she was the one taking the hit.  As he slid through the pictures, one floated by.  Her calendar. He sat up straighter and a plan came to his head.  

A couple of days later, Chris was back in Boston and sitting in Megan’s conference room.  Megan was sitting next to him, both in silence as they waited for the last member of their meeting to arrive.  Stacy walked in confidently, a sway in her hips as if she knew Chris would be there and finally ready to declare that he too was also “in feelings” with her. After all, they had softly flirted when he was in the office. They had coffee together. He liked her and this was her moment. She flicked her hair back as she sat across from them.  “You wanted to speak to me.”  

“Yeah, we had a question.  Who gave you the photo of YN in the car?” Megan asked.  

Stacy’s smile faltered slightly.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

“Did you know that all of your emails from your work computer are monitored?  Since that last hack, I had IT put in the monitoring service.”  

At that Stacy’s smile fell. “What?” 

“So, before we send this information to DCPD and congressional security, who gave you the photo?” 

Stacy blanched as she looked from Megan to Chris.  “Mike, one of the senator’s security guards gave it to me.”  

“Interesting.  And why did you give it to gossip mags?” 

“To break YN and Chris up.  She took what I wanted.” Chris scoffed as he stood up and walked to the door.  “Chris please! I’m sorry but I thought we had something!” 

“When?  During the scheduled meetings or when you were helping Megan on the red carpet.  I am in love with YN.  I hope she presses charges for the invasion of privacy.  Megan?” 

“Oh, right.  You’re fired, for cause.  You signed a non-disclosure agreement for our clients and their families which you violated the minute you sent the photo to the magazine.  Security is outside to escort you out.  Your personal belongings will be searched before they are mailed out to you.”  

“No, please...” 

“Have a good day Stacy,” as security walked in, and Chris and Megan walked out and headed to her office.  “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.”  She headed to her sideboard and poured two glasses of whiskey, handing one to Chris.  “Have you been able to get a hold of YN?” 

Chris shook his head.  “No, she’s blocked me from everything. I got in touch with Rachel, but she said that YN has a ‘no calls allowed’ for me with her team.” Chris took a swallow.  “Said YN has been crying a lot in her office.” 

“Oh Chris,” Megan frowned.  

“This is all my fault Megan. I pulled over and I convinced her.”  

“Chris, this wasn’t your fault.  You are still human.  You are still allowed to have fun.  You both weren’t expecting someone you both trusted to violate your privacy.  You have every right to be angry.  You have every right to be sad that your relationship was broken by jealous people.  But you cannot blame yourself.  We are going to fix this, and we are going to get your girl back. Are you ready to do anything to show her you love her?” 

Chris laughed.  “I would do anything to win her back.” 

Your POV 

It was a few weeks after “picture-gate” and you were getting ready for the Valentine’s Day charity event. An event where you were supposed to make your debut with Chris.  Who is now your ex. “Fuck me,” you mumble to yourself.  You look in the mirror, seeing a woman who kinda looks like you, if she didn’t have red-rimmed eyes, shallow looking cheeks and a sad look on her face.  It had been hell without him.  You never realized how much comfort Chris brought to you. How his strong arms held you close to his chest, his heartbeat your lullaby, his voice a song.  You missed him desperately, but he didn’t want to stand next to you.  It makes you question whether he lied about being with a strong woman.  

You shake yourself and inspect your dress. The theme was love, obviously, so you had chosen a red gown, strapless with a sweetheart neckline.  It was tight in the bodice until it hit your waist and then flowed out in layers of chiffon.  Heels and diamond studs completed the look with soft waves framing your face. You sighed, wishing he had been there to see it, the dress you picked with him in mind. But he would never be there, he wouldn't come back.  He made his choices.  

As you arrived at the gala, sans date, you thought back to the last few weeks.  The person who took the photo was found, Mike, and fired.  Mike had been one of your personal guards since you started.  Apparently, when questioned, he took the photo to create a scandal because he was obsessed with you and wanted Chris out of the way.  Mission accomplished, you guessed, but not in the way he wanted.  Charges were filed, restraining orders in place, a press release later, and the scandal died out.  Some of the old guards still avoided you but the party and your constituents stood by you.  They held support rallies and feminist movements.  You were a woman, yes, but you should have been treated like a man. It warmed your heart a bit in the days post Chris.  

Arriving alone, you walked the press line, dodging questions that wanted to bring back the scandal and headed into the venue.  Your date, who walked in alone as well was waiting.  As patient as ever for Rachel, who is never patient.  Dinner was lovely, the jazz band playing romantic tunes.  You mingled with other donors and attendees, making the most out of the evening.  Finally, the special, surprise guest performer was announced.  

The host of the evening introduced Grammy award winning artist Harry Styles to the stage.  You loved him and sang along.  It was quite the performance, Harry doing all of his hits.  You sway with the music, a glass of champagne keeping you warm.  As Harry ends, Watermelon Sugar, the crowd cheers. 

“How is everyone doing?” Harry asks and the crowd cheers in response. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, Harry takes a breath.  “So, I got a call from a guy who wanted to let a girl know how much she means to her. See he messed up and asked me to help him tell his girl he adores her.  You don’t have to say anything honey, just know he would walk through fire for you and he’s sorry that you had to walk alone.  This song is for her.” 

You weren’t really paying attention; the words were beautiful, but you didn’t want to be a part of someone else’s declaration of love.  As Harry’s Adore You began to play, you felt a tear in your eye.  This was the last thing Chris had sung to you. 

 Walk in your rainbow paradise (paradise)  Strawberry lipstick state of mind (state of mind)  I get so lost inside your eyes  Would you believe it? 

You don't have to say you love me  You don't have to say nothing  You don't have to say you're mine 

Honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Oh, honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do 

You sway to the music, eyes closed, losing yourself to the music but the crowd starts to part as the spotlight follows a person across the floor.  As the last person parts, a gasp runs through the crowd, and you open your eyes. 

And Chris is there, in a black tux, holding a single red rose.  

You look around to see if he is looking at anyone else but no, it's you.  He walks over and takes the champagne glass from your hand.  “Chris...” 

“Not yet,” he whispers as he pulls you into his arms. He starts to move you across the dance floor.  

You're wonder under summer skies (summer skies)  Brown skin and lemon over ice  Would you believe it? 

You don't have to say you love me  I just wanna tell you somethin'  Lately you've been on my mind 

Honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Oh, honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do 

“Chris,” you whisper. “What are you doing?” 

“Shh.  Baby, just let me adore you.”  He spins you around and back taking a hold of you again, the only two people on the dance floor.  

I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Oh, honey (ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do  (Ah)  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you  Oh, honey (ah)  Oh, honey  I'd walk through fire for you  Just let me adore you 

oh, honey  (Oh)  Just let me adore you  Like it's the only thing I'll ever do 

As the song finishes, he pulls you even closer so your foreheads touch as he sings the last of the lyrics to you.  You are trying everything not to sob in front of these people.  As the band slows, Chris pulls back slightly.  “I didn’t stand next to you.  And even though that wasn’t my decision, I still should have made a statement right away. You shouldn’t have done that alone and I am so sorry sweetheart.”  

“I just wanted to protect you, Chris.”  

“And I just wanted to stand behind my woman.”  He swallows, his nerves starting to show a bit. “I had something planned tonight.” He kisses your hand. “We have been together for a while, and it has been the time of my life. I have never been happier. Your dreams are my dreams, and your happiness is mine.  I never want to let go.  Because I adore you, I’d walk through fire for you.”  

He stepped back and knelt to the ground on one knee.  

You’re pretty sure you have stopped breathing at this point.  

“YNN, I love you so much.  And I want to spend the rest of my life with you and all our dreams. Can we take on the world together?” He popped open a little red box holding a stunning princess cut diamond solitaire. “Will you marry me?” 

Your face really doesn’t give anything away.  It is just a single tear that falls. Chris is starting to think this is a bad idea before he sees the smallest nod, before the biggest smile he has ever seen.  It was bigger than when you won your election. “Yes! Yes, Chris yes!”  You fall into his arms just as he’s standing. The crowd cheers as he swings you around.  

After a moment, he sat you down and took out the ring to slide it onto your finger. You look at it before you look back at your fiancé. He cups your face before he kisses you gently.  

And you’re home.  

The rest of the night was a blur.  The only thing that stood out was the call to your parents.  Chris had visited them before flying out to the gala.  He sat with your father and explained everything.  Your dad was satisfied that his little girl was in good hands and gave his blessing.  As you walked out of the venue, the press was relentless in asking about your and Chris’s relationship. Rachel and your security team keep them at bay as Chris keeps his arm around you, your head resting against his chest.  He got you into the car and Robert drove you away. “I’ve missed you,” you whisper. 

“I am so sorry, baby,” Chris pulls so you are seated in his lap, letting you bury your face into his neck. “Mike, he gave the picture to Stacy. She never told us anything about talking to you until it was too late.” He nuzzled into your hair. “I wanted to be here.” He kisses your head.  “I never wanted you to do that alone.”  

“I shouldn’t have... I should have...” 

“Shh, baby, you had no reason to not believe Stacy.  I wish you had waited but I still should have made my own statement.” He sighed as he leaned back on the seat and tightened his grip on you.  “But that’s the past.  You are my future.”  

“I can’t believe you proposed.” You stare down at the diamond on your hand.  “How did you know?” 

“Know what?” 

“Well, is that the ring I wanted or that I would say yes?” 

He chuckled.  “Honey, you don’t think I didn’t noticed when you would ‘airdrop’ hints to my phone when I wasn’t paying attention or when we would see jewelry on vacation?” He picked up your hand and played with the ring.  “You are never flashy or over the top, but you always sparkle.  So, when I went with my sisters and ma shopping, we saw this one and it just said ‘YN.’” 

The tears started to well in your eyes again. He really did know you.  

“Oh honey, don’t cry.” He cupped your face and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears.  

“I’m sorry, just,” you sniff, “it's been so hard without you.  And I, I just can’t believe you got Harry Styles to dedicate a song to me, to us.  The last time I heard it...” you trail off.  

Chris’s face softened. “Was the last time we were together.  I remember.” You pulled up to your townhome, and Chris climbed out, holding out his hand for you. As you walked to the door, he whispered in your ear, “I remember that I owed you a better time as well.”  He opened the door and you gasped. 

Candles, roses, and champagne were waiting for you in your living room.  A gentle fire was on in the fireplace, with pillows and blankets laid out on the floor.  As you took it in, Chris stood behind you, kissing your neck and shoulders.  “I don’t think I told you how beautiful you looked in this dress.” You moan as he trails his fingers over the top of your dress.  He nipped at that spot on your neck as he pulled the zipper down, his thick finger trailing down your spine.  

“Chris,” you whimper as goosebumps bloom on your skin, his wet, open mouth kisses setting every nerve on fire.  

“I want to worship you, my fiancé,” he growled as he let the dress drop, showing him the red lace strapless bra and matching panties and garter belt, you had on. “Fuck me, is this new?” 

“I bought it for you, and I never got the chance to wear it for you,” you replied, blushing.  

“You are perfection, my love.”  He sat in the chair.  “Twirl for me.” Still in your heel clad feet, you stood in front of him, just out of his reach and did a slow spin. He growled at your teasing as he reached for you, and you stepped back. “What do you think you are doing, Mrs. Evans?” 

“Who said anything about changing my name?” You giggled as his gaze darkened a little.  “I’m a little exposed baby.  That jacket and shirt needs to come off.”  

Chris stood but never took his eyes off of you as he discarded his jacket, tie and shirt, leaving him in just his suit, pants and shoes.  “What now, Senator?” 

“Sit,” you ordered, and he followed your direction quickly.  You grabbed a pillow and kneeled in front of him, sliding your hands up his legs.  He shuddered at your touch, leaning his head back as you undid his pants.  You tapped his hip so he could raise them, and you pulled down his pants and boxer briefs so his cock could spring out. You wrapped your hand the best you could around the base and pumped, getting his attention back on you.  You looked him straight in the eye as you licked the tip that had a bead of precome on it.  

“Fuck, YN,” he mumbled as you took the entire head in your mouth, eyes never leaving yours. You worked him, softly at first and then harder, slowing down again, much to Chris’s frustration. As you took him to the back of your throat again, you felt him twitch and suddenly you were on your back on the floor as Chris settled in between your legs. He got your bra off first, then the garter, nipping at your skin the entire time.  

“Baby, I...” You really didn’t know what you were trying to say.  Your brain was overloaded with the sensations on your skin. Chris was everywhere, everywhere, all at once and it caused the pressure to build.  Finally, it was just your panties and heels, but Chris made no move to remove either.  He ran his nose up and down your covered pussy, grazing your clit and getting what he wanted: a wanton moan from your mouth.  

“I love that sound, love.” Chris grasped the sides of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs and over the heels.  “I want these hooked around my ears,” he said.  “But for now,” he spread your legs wide, “they can hold you open.”  He kissed right on your mound and then dove in with his tongue, eating like a man starved.  His hands held your thighs open, not allowing you to find some sort of relief until he could feel you tremble.  “Are you close, gorgeous?” 

“I’m gonna cum, Chris, please!” 

“Cum, YN! Let me drink you in!”  His dirty talk always got to you, and it was enough for you to let go, a silent scream coming from your mouth as the world went dark. Chris didn’t stop, making it last longer.  He finally slowed and began to kiss up your body.  His cock was throbbing, needing to find its own release but he wouldn’t stop until he was buried in you.  Finally, he was on top, brushing a strand of hair away, looking down at his future wife, the future mother of his children. He teased your entrance before slowly pushing in. “Are you still...” 

“Never stopped,” you replied breathlessly, answering his unasked question about birth control. He bottomed out and you both groaned in relief to be reunited again.  He fits perfectly, molded inside of you.  

“God, still tight and warm, like I never left.” Chris pulled out slowly before slamming into you.  You cried out with each thrust, finally getting the relief you missed.  It was slow and torturous but oh, so good.  

“Chris, fuck, harder, please!” 

“Oh baby,” he cooed.  “We have all night.”  He sped up his hips to hit your spot inside over and over, but he felt you tighten, gripping him so hard it was becoming hard to move. “Let go baby.  Give it to me again. God, this pussy was made for me, gripping me, strangling my cock.  Milk me, my fiancé, cum now!” That was it; you cummed hard around him, triggering his own release, “Fuck YES!” 

He finally slowed down but never pulled out.  He rolled you over, so you were laid out on top of him, and he wrapped a blanket around you both.  

“Happy Valentine’s Day Senator.”  

“Happy Valentine’s Day, future husband.”  

The morning headlines were everything Rachel wanted and more.  An election to gear up for and a fairytale wedding for the future President and Hollywood’s leading man.  

WITNESSING A FAIRYTALE: DC’S GOLDEN GIRL AND HOLLYWOOD’S GUY NEXT DOOR CONFIRM RELATIONSHIP WITH A PROPOSAL! 

A/N: I wish this was America’s next royal family of politics. LOL. 

Taglist:

@patzammit @slutforchrisjamalevans @jennmurawski13-writes @firephotogrl74 @texmexdarling @tinkerbelle67

[bloomingpresent]

Masterlist

Chris Evans

Teenager Crush Pairing Chris Evans/Reader

Steve Rogers

The Mission Pairing Steve Rogers/Reader

F1-Charles Leclerc

Ferro Rosso Chapter I Teaser Pairing Charles Lecler/ Older Woman Reader

Ferro Rosso Chapter II

Ferro Rosso Chapter III

Ferro Rosso Chapter IV

Ferro Rosso Chapter V

Ferro Rosso Chapter VI

Ferro Rosso Chapter VII

Ferro Rosso Chapter VIII

Ferro Rosso Chapter IX

[sevasey51]

I’m gonna go back to posting today once I’ve recovered from the amazing weekend I had; because I go away for 4 months next week so I don’t know how much I’ll be able to post and to what extent I’ll be allowed to use my phone, so please send in the asks guys if you have any 🫶🏻

[saucy-sassy-sparkly]

Pursuit of Happiness

2: HopeLives Foundation

Pairing: Chris Evans x Kat Littleman (OFC)

Summary: New England political daughter Kat Littleman is constantly showing up for her mother’s campaigns, playing the part of the perfect daughter in the perfect, American family.  When her paths cross with Chris Evans while he canvases DC to build out ASP, she’s forced to face some truths about herself, her family, and her future.  

Word Count: ~6.8k

Warnings: Chris is a bit of a horndog.  Lots of swearing, alcohol, sex talk, politically charged topics, chaotic families

Series Masterlist

2: HopeLives Foundation

“FUCK,” Chris threw the controller on the sofa next to him and stormed out of the room, leaving a dumbfounded Scott behind him.

Scott glanced between the abandoned item, the Mario Kart standings screen, and his brother’s quickly disappearing back before he turned down the TV volume and followed Chris into the kitchen. He watched his brother bang around the room, throwing open the refrigerator and yanking out a beer before slamming it shut. Chris then yanked open a drawer to aggressively push around the utensils in search of a bottle opener. He found it and tried to pull it out, but it got stuck on the vegetable peeler; he yanked harder, and all of that resulted in several items tumbling out onto Chris’s socked foot, eliciting another, “fuck,” from the man who left the mess in favor of opening the beer and taking a swig.

“So,” Scott said, pulling out a kitchen chair and collapsing into it, “you seem great.”

Chris glared at him.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Chris joined Scott at the table after he gathered the utensils from the floor and shoved them haphazardly back in the drawer.

“You are definitely lying based on that little hissy fit you just threw over losing in Mario Kart.”

Chris shrugged, “I don’t like to lose.”

Scott snorted, “Yeah, okay, that I know, but you don’t normally throw things and storm out of the room. That’s usually Mom.”

Begrudgingly, Chris laughed and took a swig of his beer before leaning back in his seat. “It’s been a rough few weeks I guess,” he picked at the label of the Stella in his hand.

“DC was another bust?”

“Not entirely, we got a few more people interested and I’ve had some meetings go well, but I just didn’t think it would be this hard to convince politicians to talk to their constituents. Every time I spend a few days there, I end up feeling like we took one step forward and two steps back. They agree to talk to us but then they’re just looking for me to support them in some way or help out with one of their causes. Or worse, they ignore us entirely. No actually,” he paused, “the worst is when they just laugh at us. I can handle an ignored email, I can’t handle the assumption it’s a joke. I just want this to work, Scott. I think this could work, I just need them to get it, ya know?”

Scott nodded, pushing away from the table to get his own beer and, far more gratefully, find the bottle opener, “but you knew it would take time.”

“Just not this long,” Chris sighed and looked up at his brother who was walking back towards him. He studied Scott for a moment and then turned to look out the window, biting his lip.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That face you just made? That face you make when you don’t want to tell me something.”

Chris scrubbed his hand down his beard and glanced at Scott in the corner of his eye, debating about telling him. Telling him about Kat. He’d been thinking about Kat since she’d disappeared into her hotel room’s bathroom two weeks ago. At that moment, she hadn’t bothered to lock the door, but he knew that was his dismissal.

She just blew him off, just like that. A quick, slightly dirty, really good fuck, and then she was gone.

At first, it pissed him off.

That was his role; he was the one who quickly dismissed a hook-up and sent them on their way. It had been years since he’d been on the receiving end of a brush-off. Women didn’t walk away from him. He finished and they begged him to stay while he got dressed or while he called them a car. He was used to being the one in control and he was furious she’d gotten the upper hand.

Then, he was embarrassed.

She’d sent him away without so much as a “goodbye” or even a “let me get your number” that they’d both know would never be used. He hated how it felt to put himself back together and quietly leave the room. He hated how much he wanted her to want him, or at least give him ten extra minutes to have a drink.

After the embarrassment came the shame.

He knew he’d done this to women more times than he could count. He knew he’d made them feel beautiful and desired only to give them the boot shortly after. Chris wasn’t awful– he usually hung around for some cuddling and making out… occasionally a sleepover… but even then, he didn’t think twice about sending them on their way. Now that he was on the receiving end, the shame of having made women feel that way crept back through him at the worst moments.

And now, he was curious.

Admittedly, his curiosity was mostly guided by his dick. Chris was familiar with casual hook-ups, but they were usually enough to get him off; he was almost always sure to get his partner to the finish too, but most of them were nothing special. Occasionally he’d find someone who was into something kinky and it would catch his attention for a few weeks, or now and then someone was particularly good and he’d keep her around for a while to text on lonely nights.

But the immediate attraction he’d felt for Kat when she’d sauntered up was new. Hot women were always around him, but few of them exuded a self-assured air that she had. And he wouldn’t admit it out loud yet– or maybe ever– but she was in the top 5 sex he’d ever had. He had yet to figure out what it was about her, but she’d put him in a trance and there wasn’t a shot in hell he would’ve ignored her invitation to her room. When she’d opened the hotel room door and pulled him in, he’d hardened at just the touch of their hands. When he kissed her and she whimpered against his mouth and melted into his touch, he’d started to leak into his shorts. He’d almost finished while she was just petting him, and then almost did again when he watched her finish on his fingers; when he’d finally been inside of her, he’d struggled the whole time not to finish with embarrassing speed.

After he’d spent a few days pissed and moping, not even taking advantage of the advances from a few more aides for their last few days in DC, he’d gone Incognito on his laptop and Googled her. He got a few old hits with her name in articles about her mother, a link to a super private Facebook page, and some photos volunteering with charities and a handful of other politicians. If he really wanted, he could reach out to some people he knew in DC and figure out how to get in touch with her the next time he was in town, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to go that far. That seemed a little too creepy.

So, he’d squashed his feelings down as deep as they could go and had thrown himself into finishing his last stint in DC. Then he’d taken all of his frustrations out playing video games with Scott, hiking with Dodger, and with his hand in the shower after dark.

Scott sat across the kitchen table with his face cradled in his hands, clearly waiting for Chris to spill. Chris played with the label of his beer, avoiding his brother’s penetrating stare, and tried to think of where to start. How to say ‘I slept with a woman and now I can’t stop thinking about her’ without sounding like an episode of a teenage drama?

Saved by his phone vibrating in his pocket, he fished it out to see Mark’s name fill the screen, “hey, man,” he greeted and then took a sip of beer, glancing back at Scott, who rolled his eyes and left the table to go back to the couch.

“So, Elizabeth Warren’s people just called me,” Mark said in place of a greeting. Chris could tell Mark was shuffling papers and could picture him at his desk– the one he’d seen over FaceTime many times. “They tried to call you first since you’re in the area, but said your assistant took a message.”

Ahh, right. Shit. He often gave out his assistant’s phone number instead of his when it was to lower-level staff members, just in case they weren’t calling for ASP reasons. He saved his personal number for the elected officials and their chiefs of staff.

“What does Warren want?”

“Well, sounds like she’s willing to chat with us, but wants to do it this week. Can you make it happen?”

Chris sat up straighter, yanking his laptop across the table and opening it. He clicked quickly to his calendar, scanning through the few phone meetings he had set up for the rest of the week before responding to Mark, “Hell yeah, I can make it happen. I’ll call ‘em.”

“Great, we really need her, Chris. Work your magic.”

“I’ll do my best,” Chris laughed, asking for the phone number to call.

Mark rattled off the contact information to Chris, who typed it quickly onto a sticky note on his screen. They briefly exchanged pleasantries, followed by some more shop talk, and then hung up. Chris immediately dialed the contact, being connected directly to a woman named Maggie. Maggie explained that the senator’s schedule was fairly full this week, but she’d be doing some visits to local nonprofits and he was welcome to choose one and she’d make time for a cup of coffee after.

Chris was accustomed to the “catch” with these politicians. He was careful to avoid showing too much favor to certain causes and leaders, but he had to toe the line between using his celebrity to bolster a politician’s public opinion and actually getting what he, Mark, and Joe so desperately needed to get ASP off the ground.

After hanging up with Maggie, he was surprised to find a list of engagements already in his inbox, along with links to the organizations and the times that Warren would be there this week. He clicked through the four options, loading the websites and scanning the missions– all various causes he liked, but one on the furthest side of downtown, one wasn’t until next Saturday– a week away– and one was at an animal shelter and he couldn’t risk going there and falling in love with another dog… Dodger would be devastated. The last one was on Tuesday, two days from now, and was the closest to his house. He clicked through the link for the HopeLives Foundation, looking at the stock photos of smiling women and children in front of apartment buildings.

Over the next two days, Chris and Maggie exchanged emails about the event and by 10a Tuesday morning, Chris was dressed in a cardigan and dark jeans and on his way to HopeLives. He pulled into the lot of a small strip mall, seeing the vans for a few news crews parked on the opposite side. The end unit had a sign above the entrance that was a cream-colored oval, with the words HopeLives in hot pink.

As he got close, he was surprised to discover that under the name of the foundation, there was a small herd of pink flamingos. An odd choice of mascot for a Boston-based foundation. He hovered at the edge of the sidewalk between a few cars and crew members scrolling their phones and scanned for Maggie. She’d said he would be able to find her because she’d be three steps behind Warren. And sure enough, there she was, a petite woman in– you guessed it, a pantsuit– was standing behind the senator, taking notes on her phone.

He chose to text her, rather than make his way across the center of attention, saying that he’d be at The Bean– the coffee shop a few doors down– waiting until they were finished; he saw the moment she read it and started to scan for him. He waved from his spot and she beckoned him over.

Shit.

He couldn’t say no; he was this close to getting a chance to talk to a huge name in politics and try to get her to agree to help them. But if he said yes, his face would be on the internet in a nanosecond next to the same huge name in politics, making it very difficult to sell the “nonpartisan” angle of ASP… not that his Twitter account did much to help that either.

He didn’t have a choice, he crossed the lot and hesitantly stepped up on the sidewalk as Maggie approached, her hand out to shake.

“Welcome, Senator Warren is just about to go inside,” she turned on her heels and was walking towards Warren without another warning. She waited for a pause in her conversation before gently touching her elbow, “Senator, Chris Evans is here.”

The senator greeted him warmly in front of the flashing cameras, complementing his career and how much her husband enjoyed his Marvel movies, before turning to introduce him to the women she’d just been meeting.

Kira and Monica were introduced first, shaking hands with Chris and grinning at him, “We had no idea you’d be joining the senator!” Kira continued to shake his hand long after it was socially acceptable and blushed fiercely when she realized and dropped his hand.

“We’ll introduce you to our third teammate in a second, she just stepped inside to get the coffee started,” Monica added, gesturing to the double glass doors, “want to warm up?”

The gaggle of people– Kira, Monica, Senator Warren, Maggie, Chris, all the camera crews, and several other Warren staffers, headed into the large lounge of the office space where there were plants scattered between a few sofas, plush chairs, and coffee tables piled with both coloring books, crayons, and magazines, even a few paperbacks novels on one of the bookshelves.

The cream wall in front of them held a picture of a flamingo and Senator Warren laughed, pointing up at it, “I have to know the deal with the flamingos,”

“Hold on, the flamingo enthusiast should explain it herself,” Kira said, walking down the nearest hallway and disappearing, only to return with a second voice following her.

Coming around the corner, a pot of coffee and a collection of mugs, creamer, and sugars on a tray in front of her, was Kat and Chris swore his heart stopped beating for the first full minute she was in view. He felt his face flush and his palms sweat; he was grateful he hadn’t worn a jacket even in the November chill because he would surely sweat through it right now.

Kat was in a tight plaid turtleneck, green suede skirt, navy tights, and knee-high brown leather boots; her hair was up in a high ponytail and, even with her neck covered, Chris remembered what the slope of it looked like and how much he had craved kissing it again in the last weeks.

She hadn’t noticed him yet; she and Kira were too busy setting out refreshments but when she rose to her full height, she looked straight at the senator first, offering her a chair and a coffee. Senator Warren sat, along with Kira and Monica, and finally, finally, her eyes fell on him. They widened immediately and Chris was pleased to see a blush rise in her cheeks too.

He took a step towards her and immediately paused, unsure what kind of greeting this moment called for. He wanted to hug her– his instinct was to hug– but this didn’t feel like the time to be that familiar. He hesitated and settled on shoving his hands in his pockets and nodding at her with a sheepish smile.

“Ch-Chris,” she stuttered, her head snapping back in surprise and she finished processing, “What are– how did–” she glanced around at the people all watching her expectantly. Kira and Monica’s eyebrows were both so high on their foreheads that they were in danger of blending into their hairlines. Senator Warren just continued to wait patiently, mixing cream into her coffee. The camera people and crew members, Maggie included, stared at Kat and Chris, clearly noticing a moment of tension.

Kat finally stuck out her hand and pushed her shoulders back, “Sorry, I’m just a big fan of your work, so I’m a little starstruck I guess,” she forced a laugh and gratefully, much of the room joined her, “I’m Kat Littleman. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

He shook her hand, accepted her coffee, and took a seat on the sofa– leaving Kat the only space left between him and Kira. She perched on the edge of the sofa, pretending to mix coffee for far too long while Monica and Senator Warren discussed the ins and outs of HopeLives. She picked up the cup, put it to her lips, decided she was shaking too hard to take a sip, and set it back down. Kat repeated the same movement three more times before she finally took a drink; she could feel her teammates' eyes flickering to her erratic movements.

Kat fidgeted on the seat, feeling every movement Chris made beside her. It was like his whole body was magnetized and trying to drag her into him. Seeing him here, in her place of work, had thrown off her whole morning and she was struggling to regain composure. Every time he moved and his cologne filled her space, she was pulled right back to the way it felt to kiss him. To have his hands on her hips, her legs, her breasts. To feel him everywhere…

“So Kat,” Senator Warren turned to Kat, who was pressing her knees so tightly together to avoid touching Chris’s that they ached already, “care to explain the flamingos?”

Kat nodded, flashing a genuine grin and angling her body towards the senator. Chris forced himself to look at her shoulder and not at her lower back, where her turtleneck was coming untucked from her skirt and a small stripe of skin was showing. “So a few years ago I saw this documentary about flamingos that said the name is said to reference their crimson wings and relates them to a real embodiment of the mythical phoenix. In lore, a phoenix rises from the ashes and is reborn for a new opportunity. Flamingos can represent beauty but also balance, stability, and potential. That concept really stuck with me and when we were workshopping names and logos and concepts for HopeLives, I kept coming back to the idea of our foundation working to help families find their potential. They come to us from poverty, abusive homes, from drug addictions, and we help connect them to job opportunities, housing, and food when they need it, plus we run several programs that allow families to bring their children and network with other families, building a herd if you will,” she laughed, earning a laugh from Senator Warren and Chris as well; she jumped a little, remembering Chris was seated behind her and she forced herself to lean back in the sofa, pressing into the backrest and allowing him to be part of the conversation again.

“A group of flamingos is actually called a flamboyance, but I learned quickly that some people do not want to be called that. Anyway,” she took a quick sip from her coffee mug that was emblazoned with the same logo that was out front, “our whole mission boils down to supporting people to rise from the ashes of their past and prosper. These two came up with the name, we all came up with the mission and built it together, but I was really insistent that we incorporate flamingos into our image.”

“Love that,” Chris nodded beside her, trying to catch her eye. Kat was focused on Warren, but when she leaned forward to set her mug on the table, Chris caught another glimpse of her shirt rising, exposing more of her back. He adjusted in his seat and averted his eyes back to the conversation just as Kat’s leg brushed lightly against the hand he’d planted on the sofa to get leverage. They pulled apart as if they'd been burned; Kat swore she could feel heat radiating from the spot where the back of his hand skimmed her thigh.

For almost an hour, the five of them chatted, eventually moving for a tour of the building. It housed the large, comfortable lobby, a small kitchen, three mid-sized, neat offices– each with a pull-out couch in case a family needed a place to crash for a night, two full bathrooms with showers, a conference room that looked more like a second lounge area, and a large back storage room filled with donations: everything from Costco sized packages of snack foods and coffee to new towels and sheets and three hanging racks of clothes and crates of shoes and jackets.

When Warren, Kira, and Monica (and most of the journalists and staffers) walked through the storage unit, talking about the wants and needs, Kat hung back and grabbed Chris’s arm, shoving him towards the kitchen.

“What are you doing here,” she hissed at him, checking over her shoulder that no one had followed them.

“I’m here for Warren, I had no idea this was your organization,” he whispered back, also keeping one eye on the door to the storage area.

She stared at him in confusion, “why on earth are you here for Warren?”

“ASP could use her support, I was promised a coffee and conversation with her. I thought it meant after she did her meet and greet, not during.”

Kat blinked, then finally said, “…ASP?”

Had it not been such a precarious moment, Kat would’ve congratulated herself on her acting skills. Of course, she knew what ASP was. After she’d showered and was positive Chris had left her hotel room, she’d started Googling his platform with little luck and then, when that didn’t work, started texting a few of the DC friends she’d made in the political world– thanks to getting dragged around by Mallory– and pretended to be a curious daughter interested in furthering her mother’s political career.

All utter crap… she just wanted to see what she could find out about the buzz surrounding another Hollywood star coming to DC with big ideas. Turned out to be fairly positive, although most were still skeptical.

Regardless, she feigned indifference and even added a cocked eyebrow for effect.

“For fuck sake, Kat, A Starting Point? The start-up I spent all night talking to your mother and every other politician about the night we met.”

“Right, right,” she feigned understanding, “yeah, my mom talked to me some about that…” She trailed off and Chris rolled his eyes.

“Bull shit, she did not.”

“You’re right, but she did talk about you,” Kat shrugged and then immediately regretted it when his eyebrows shot up.

“Me?”

Kat groaned inwardly and was not about to let on the grilling she’d gotten the morning after the gala. On the way back to the airport, her phone lit up with her mother’s face and she knew what was coming– a string of questions about her disappearance (a headache), her refusal to respond to the texts and calls inquiring last night (head hurt looking at the light, then she fell asleep early), and if she had seen that boy who was also mysteriously missing when Tim had gone to hunt down the trio in hopes of more football talk– they seemed to be the only men in the room who’d known who he was.

“You need to go. And don’t bring up my mom with Warren,” Kat changed the subject, hearing the group coming back towards them. She leaned across him and yanked open the fridge. In an effort to avoid close proximity, he tried to step sideways but stumbled on a gigantic box of potato chips and tipped forward, catching himself with a hand on her waist. He fumbled for words– a true apology never really making it all the way out– and quickly moved his hands. Kat tried to ignore the feeling ignited in her whole body with his hands on her and instead, she grabbed two water bottles out of the fridge and shoved one at him. She turned on her heels, expertly missing other boxes of snacks, and moved back to meet the group as they exited the storage area. “Sorry to miss the tour, I went to the restroom and came back to this one raiding our fridge,” she gestured over her shoulder with her thumb at Chris, who stood entirely too close behind her.

Chris shot a glare at Kat before forcing a smile, “needed some water,” he ground out, hoisting the bottle to his lips, and he pushed past her, his chest skimming her back as he moved closer to her to avoid the camera crew, and joined the group exiting the back hallway to the lobby once again. After a long goodbye between all of the people present and the cameras crews dispersing, Chris followed Senator Warren, Maggie, and the rest of her crew out and to the coffee shop down the block for the promised further discussion about ASP.

Kat busied herself putting the mugs in the dishwasher and straightening up while Kira and Monica trailed her, both pretending to straighten piles of magazines or rearrange some pillows. When she was out of things to do, she retreated to her office and slid behind her desk, ready to respond to some emails when the other two appeared in her doorway.

“Soooooo,” Kira started, draping herself across the sofa, “Chris Evans was here today.”

“He was,” Kat didn’t look up from her computer screen but she wasn’t doing anything. She was clicking buttons and hoping neither of them would pick up on her nervous energy… and that the low lighting in her office hid her pink cheeks.

Monica put on a breathy, high-pitched voice to mock Kat’s introduction saying, “Sorry, big fan, I’m a little starstruck,” before both women giggled.

Kira snorted, “Since when are you a big fan of Chris Evans?”

“I’ve seen the Captain America movies, I know who he is.”

“Yeah, but ‘big fan’ is not something I’d call you. Can you name any other movie he’s been in?”

Kat paused and continued to click buttons on her computer, trying to stall for time, and then, realizing she could Google it, she started to when Kira jumped up, “Uhhuh, no Googling. Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

Twice in one day, Kat’s acting performances– in her humble opinion– were stellar. She pretended to have no idea what her friends were referring to when she knew damn fucking well that she’d been out of sorts from the second Kira had come to get her and the tray of coffee supplies.

She was still grateful that she’d made it to the coffee table without noticing him, and she thought she’d pulled herself together quickly, but these two knew her better than that. They would’ve picked up on her posture, the way she’d picked up her coffee and put it back down several times, not knowing what to do with her hands. They certainly would’ve noticed that she was suddenly silent and had little to say in front of Elizabeth Warren, one of her political heroes who she had been relentlessly pestering to come to see their work. After months of phone calls and planning, her connections to the DC world paid off and got Warren in the door, and then, suddenly, gregarious, confident Kat didn’t have two words to say until dragged into the conversation.

The second she’d seen him standing there, managing to make a cardigan from the old man’s department look sexy, she thought she was going to pass out. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be standing in the lobby of one of her two safe spaces looking at her with those incredible blue eyes that were melting her skin into lava.

He was supposed to be a DC moment. A moment of weakness or lust or sexual frustration or some combination of all of those things wouldn’t ever wander into her life and make her knees weak again. When she’d walked away from him and into that bathroom, it had taken all of her willpower not to yank the door back open and ask him to stay the night, to take her number, or to even just shower with her before he left. But she didn’t let herself do it, she forced herself to listen for him to walk out and let it go. She didn’t need it right now…

“The stuttering and avoiding eye contact and acting like he would give you herpes if you sat too close to him,” Monica offered, sharing a look with Kira before they both turned their attention back to Kat.

“I met him a few weeks ago when I went down for that function with Mom,” Kat shrugged, offering a version of the truth.

Her colleagues, business partners, and long-time best friends just stared at her, knowing there was far more. Monica made a show of crossing her arms and popping out her hip. Kira smacked her gum loudly.

Kat pushed back from the desk and squared up to them, “Fine. You want to really know? I invited him to my hotel room.”

Kira’s jaw dropped and said gum fell out, bumping off her chin and onto the carpet. It took her a heartbeat to realize and then reach down to pick it up and throw it at the trash can.

“Kathrine,” Monica’s grin spread slowly, “do you mean to tell me you slept with him weeks ago?”

Kat started to get defensive, “So what, I can sleep with someone. I don’t have to report back every time I do.”

“Fair enough, just thought you might be up for sharing if it was a celebrity. And, ya know… just a little surprised you hooked up at all.”

“All the more reason not to share.”

“Why’s that?” Kira asked, “If I’d slept with that man, I’d make sure people knew. That’s like resume material.”

“Gross,” Kat scrunched up her nose, “look, he’s gorgeous and we had fun, but I don’t need to be fuck buddies with some Hollywood guy. And worse, I don’t need to be falling all over him like I’m sure every other woman he interacts with does. He’s just a guy, he was a good time, and I walked away before there could be fallout. I was just surprised to see him at my workplace, that’s all. It was out of context. I thought I’d never see him again.” Kat turned back to her computer and started to actually open her email to thank Maggie for coordinating Senator Warren’s visit today.

“Sure,” Kira glanced at Monica, whose face gave away all of her skeptical thoughts, but held her tongue. As they both made their way out of Kat’s office and into their own.

Kat finished out her day sending emails and calling families on her case list before finally shrugging into her coat and wishing Kira and Monica goodnight. Somehow she’d kept her mind off of Chris– she’d been more productive in those several hours than she usually was in days to throw herself headfirst into work and not thinking about the way his cologne had made her brain foggy or the way his body heat had radiated off of him and made her feel so cozy.

Her body went through the motions of getting to the car and driving home, but it was one of those drives where she didn’t remember a second of it. Her mind was too busy replaying the day. Should she have hugged Chris instead? Would he have thought that was weird? Had he thought about her as much as she’d thought about him? Did he regret their night together? Was he happy to see her today?

If it had been any other setting, any other moment, she would’ve greeted him much more warmly– or at least not acted like a stranger. But today had been so important for HopeLives, she’d spent the last three months begging Warren’s staff for a visit. She couldn’t have used the senator’s time to have a warm, fuzzy reunion with the man she’d been regretting walking away from. It wasn’t an appropriate time for that.

And now that she’d acted the way she did, there would be no warm, fuzzy reunion. When she’d left DC, she had no intention of seeing him again. Kat knew Chris was a Boston guy from her night of Googling, but she also knew that Boston wasn’t some small town, and running into him wasn’t likely. She’d walked away from that night knowing that there would be no future and there could be no future. She was too busy and she had too much on her plate for anything with anyone, let alone someone with a schedule like his.

But still, she could’ve been nicer to him. It was strange he’d shown up at HopeLives– her photo was on the website; it wasn’t prominently on the first page, but if he’d done even 3 minutes of clicking through and reading, he would’ve seen her name and photo as one of the founders. It seemed far too coincidental that he’d just happened to pick her place to meet with Senator Warren…

By the time she was in her garage, she’d gone through so much emotional whiplash that she swore her neck actually hurt. Her mind was clouded with all of the feelings and frustrations of the day, but still, she staggered out of the car and into the house. She was greeted in the mud room of her comfy cottage by Amelia, her four-year-old mutt, and plopped directly on the doormat to give her a proper hello full of neck rubs and butt scratches. When Amelia trotted around her, through the kitchen, and to the French doors that led to the yard, Kat followed her and unhooked the latch, watching her scamper out into the late afternoon sun.

Kat took a few moments of peace to hang up her coat and bag, walk through the living room putting away items as she passed them, and head up to her bedroom for a change of comfy clothes before she went back out. From her bedroom window, she smiled to herself as she watched Amelia pace the backyard, barking at passing walkers and begging them to approach the fence for a visit.

She checked her watch and slipped into sneakers and her heavy coat, pulling the leash off the wall and setting it on the bench by the door to stoop and tie up one of her laces. Kat glanced up when she heard a string of frantic, excited tips from Amelia. She squinted through the glass and groaned, “No fucking way.”

+++

By the time Chris and the senator finished it was almost 2; their 30 allotted minutes lapping twice before they parted ways. She’s been thrilled with his idea, eager to reach younger citizens and they ended with a future meeting already scheduled for her with the whole team.

He was pulsing with adrenaline and even his less-than-stellar reunion with Kat couldn’t put a damper on his mood. After he’d called Mark and Joe to relay the conversation to both of them, he was pulling down his long driveway and into the garage. When Dodger greeted him with equal excitement, Chris didn’t bother to kick his shoes off and instead grabbed Dodger’s lead and his heavy winter coat and ushered him into the car.

He pulled back out and drove the seven minutes to his favorite local pond that Dodger loved. It had a walking trail around it, a fenced dog run, a playground, and several well-kept docks, and it backed up to a little neighborhood with small, adorable, waterfront homes. Since he was still dressed from his day, he didn’t want a true hike, but he couldn’t stand to be inside. It was too gorgeous out on this bright November day and he was too full of pride. ASP might make it. With someone like Elizabeth Warren signing on, that helped their cause. She’d promised to speak to some of her trusted colleagues, and they were headed back to DC after the new year to continue to work– then in February, Chris was scheduled to start filming a new movie, luckily here in Massachusetts, so he wouldn’t have as much flexibility in his schedule, but Mark and Joe would pick up his slack for a few months.

Dodger trotted along in front of him, just as happy to be outside as Chris was. His head was on a swivel, his nose constantly twitching with the fresh smells, and his tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth in a smile.

Chris nodded politely to several people he passed, most of them more focused on his adorable mutt than him. By the time they were halfway around the path– about a 2-mile loop– they were in the thick of the houses that backed up to the path, several with long sloping yards, some fenced, some with swing sets and sandboxes, others perfectly tended garden beds all closed up for the coming winter.

They approached one of the fenced yards as a black, brown, and white dog came racing to the edge, yipping happily at Chris and Dodger. “Hey, pal,” he cooed, letting Dodger stop to sniff through the fence. The two dogs nosed each other through the pickets, the enclosed one eventually jumping up on its hind legs, tail wagging and lunging for Chris, begging for pets. He stepped closer, Dodger matching the dog’s pose, and Chris obliged both of them with ear scratches. All the while, Chris murmured to both of them, laughing at their contagious energy.

“You have got to be kidding me,” a voice approached and Chris blinked once, then twice, staring at the approaching figure in the yard.

She was now in leggings and a big, red winter coat, a wool hat with a pom pom on her head, but it was, without a doubt, Kat.

“Oh my god,” Chris groaned, still petting the dogs, neither of whom noticed the immediate tension between the two humans.

“This definitely counts as stalking now,” she crossed her arms and reached the edge of the fence, nudging the dog in front of her and saying softly, “Down, Ames.”

“I walk here all the damn time, Kat, it’s a public park and I had no idea that you lived here. In fact, I thought you lived in DC. We’re going,” Chris snapped, pulling Dodger’s leash. Dodger was too busy licking Kat’s outstretched hand and wrist to move. “Dodge, let’s go.”

“Bye sweetie,” Kat whispered to Dodger before pulling away.

Chris was fuming. First, she’d ditched him after sex, then she’d avoided him all morning, then she’d accused him of stealing from their fridge in front of Elizabeth Warren, and now she was acting like he’d sought out her house on purpose. He was a few steps away and wheeled around, “You know what, no. Who do you think you are? Do you think you’re really that special that I’d hunt you down and then stand at your back fence longingly?”

“How should I know? When guys like you don’t get what they want, they can get weird. I wouldn’t put it past you,” she countered, her dog now planted at her feet, still wagging happily.

“Guys like me?”

She gestured to him, “Guys with lots of money and lots of bravado who expect women to fall at their feet and then pout when we don’t.”

Busted.

“I promise you, baby, you were not that memorable.”

Lies. All lies. He’d gotten himself off to her image, the memory of her sounds, the feel of her body more than once.

But she couldn’t know that.

“Next time you walk here, don’t talk to my dog. Amelia, come,” she tapped the dog’s neck and they both walked back across the lawn. Chris stood watching her go, Dodger still pulling to get to Amelia, and his heart tightened in his chest when she glanced back over her shoulder once midway across their journey and then once more at the door. She hesitated at the last step, holding it open for Amelia but not breaking eye contact with Chris.

And then, she stepped into the house. Dodger caught the scent of a bird or a squirrel further down the path and pulled Chris on and away from Kat’s fence.

[sapphirerogers]

First thing I read when I wake up and it's this...damn. 🥵🥵

Don’t act like a fucking brat

Chris Evans x reader

Summary: After a horrible day, you came home utterly frustrated and made the big mistake to take it out on Chris. Luckily Chris has an idea to put you back in your place since you needed to learn some manners.

Warnings: minors DNI SMUT, frustration sex, yelling, verbal fight, pushing against the wall (sexual), ripping clothes, rough sex, blowjob, deepthroat, controlled orgasms, daddy kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex ( be smarter than that), squirting, eating you out, P in V, fingering, bratty behavior, little bit of humiliation, Sub and Dom dynamic, pet names, Mocking, creampie and overstimulation, smacking on the ass, slight chocking, gagging and i think that that was all😅🤣

Words: 3,5K 

A/N: This is with consent from the reader if it wasn’t clear.

Don’t act like a fucking brat

You were absolutely frustrated to the bone. Everyone was pissing you off today and it seemed to be no end in sight with it as well. Your colleague who has a very obvious crush on you, just wouldn’t leave you alone and today was the day you actually had no chill anymore what so ever. You couldn’t wait to go home.

Chris, your boyfriend was at home and already knew you were having a horrible day, through text messages. You never really had a fight together or that you would let the frustration out on the other but today would change that.

Keep reading

[buckets-and-trees]

I'm Your Man Collection

a short series featuring Andy Barber as a soft dark mafia boss who set his sights on you and never plans to let you go

While Andy Barber was well-known in Boston, there are whispers of a darker side, but few know the depths of his darker side. He's successful, he's charming, he's generous, and you're about to find out just how dangerous he can be.

Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] DUBIOUS CONSENT, extortion, explicit smut (see individual parts for detailed warnings), power plays, manipulation, financial spoiling, forced marriage

COLLECTION:

I'm Your Man [3k]

Morning Radiance [750]

Prepare for Takeoff [1.5k]

Don't Look Too Far [6.4k]

Burned Off the Haze [4.5k]

Cracking Locks [5k]

ask: a moment on your honeymoon [350]

Make Her Glow [1k]

EXTRAS: ↠ will Andy let the reader work? ↠ what if Andy were forced into marriage with the reader? ↠ what if sweetheart tried to get rid of her engagement ring?

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[k-evans-reads]

The Spare Masterlist

By @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Summary: When Princess Rosie unexpectedly is thrust into a political tour of the country, a working-class Air Force Captain is assigned to be her pilot. Although the princess is unhappy about the decision, she realizes she’s stepping into unknown territory when the unexpected happens

Intro

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter Four

Extras:

Rosie Asks

[before-we-get-started]

Absolutely love this story, could read it over and over❤️

Keeping Secrets - Master List

COMPLETE

Pairing: Chris Evans x Original Female Character

Summary:  Harvey Brooks spent her childhood moving all over the country until her parents finally settled in Massachusetts. She’d never had a proper friend until she met Chris Evans on their first day as freshmen in high school. They quickly became close friends who kept each other’s secrets. When Chris comes to her one night asking for her help, she makes a decision that starts a chain of events leading to the ultimate secret. Years later, when tragedy strikes, the truth finally comes out, changing both their lives and the lives of everyone around them

Length: 77265

Warnings: Swearing, referenced sex, angst, unwanted pregnancy, illness, hospitals, talk of blood and vomit, needles

Prologue 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 Epilogue

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Cruel Summer Ch. 5

Donations | Thoughts & Feelings | Cruel Summer Series | Chapter 4

(Thank you all so much for being patient as I worked through personal issues!! I'm trying to write and get new chapters out for you guys. I'm still dealing with personal issues but for now, I'll push through, thank you all so much for always sending kind supportive messages. Love you guys! Enjoy!

P.S. you can find clues about future chapters if you read through the tags ;) )

-Chapter 5-

You stared at him before giggling, “Funny Chris, you know….. about us…now that we’re…ya know…gonna be public and all that.” you smiled as he chuckled. “Baby…you know we could never be public…I can't ditch the perfect, good girl next door, to go out with an old co star…besides, we’d never work out publicly, we're better this way. Private, just you and me, locked away in a bedroom somewhere.” he leaned in to kiss you again, but you pulled back feeling bile rise in your throat. “You never planned on leaving her for me…did you?” you asked, staring at the bed. “Babygirl,” he walked around the bed to sit by you on your side of the bed. 

He pulled your chin up kissing your lips before you pulled back, he only had a moment to see your eyes before you slapped him as hard as you could. “Get out. Get the fuck out!” you glared at him before you moved quickly off the other side of the bed. “Sweethear-” “FUCK YOU!” you screamed. “GET OUT!!” you grabbed his clothes throwing them at him, he ducked as his shoes flew at his head. 

The door busted open, your security guards and Megan stood there. “Oh Y/N…” She said softly as Chris stood up after sliding his jeans on. “Y/N! Baby come on! Knock it off, let's talk about this!” he snapped back at you. You raced off into the bathroom, locking the door as the tears fell. You started the shower, a sob leaving your lips as you slid down to the floor crying. 

A few weeks later

“And in other news mega worldwide Popstar Y/N, has deleted all posts from her social media. Sources say, She’s “Blacking out any and all communication on tour, and while she loves sharing her life with her fans, touring has taken a toll on her, she’ll return eventually, but for now. She’s got to focus on herself.” wow, so no more thank you posts to all her concert goers? That’s gonna feel like a slap to the face.” the news reporter stated as her co-star started in on you and your reputation. You sat by the window staring out over the city, thankful that no one could see you all the way up here. “Turn it off.” you grumbled out, “You know it's interesting, one former Avenger star announces his wedding date with pictures of his fiance’ the same time another former Avenger star blacks out her social media? I smell drama!” he chuckled as she gasped. 

“I don’t need to hear how Lacey and Simon think I’m some big fuck up for not wanting to be on social media right now.” you said getting up and grabbing your phone. “I’m going down to the gym, maybe running will clear my head.” you said matter of factly before grabbing your headphones. “Maybe you shouldn’t go alone?” Megan asked as she stood up. Your phone had been blowing up from friends and family checking in on you, wondering why you’d gone radio silent. 

You felt your phone go off as you exited your room and felt the corners of your mouth turn up for the first time in what felt like forever. 

Hemsworthy: ‘This place is super boring without you here.’ 

Y/N: ‘Tell me about it. I wish you were here. Life fucking sucks right now.’ 

Hemsworthy: ‘Heard you went black out on socials….you doin okay? 

Y/N: ‘Yep…got a lot going on & I don’t want to see anything online…just, want to focus back on friends and myself for a while…’ 

You sighed as you sent the message, heading into the gym where you began to walk on the treadmill. You thought back over all your time with Chris lately, before he left for South America. The movie nights eating ice cream, playing new songs for him, talking him through his depression when it came to the divorce. You felt tears in your eyes, how could you have been so fucking stupid. 

Were you this desperate to fall in love and be with someone? You’d mistook your friendship with Chris, the things that friends did, as romantic interest and felt yourself developing feelings for him. He was just recently divorced…why would he even think about dating anyone; you needed serious help. 

Hemsworthy: ‘You know if you keep running on the treadmill, you’re gonna burn holes in those tennis shoes missy. :P’ 

You glanced at the message before you did a double take; you didn’t remember telling him you were going to work out to clear your head. “If I have to stand back here any longer I’m gonna go insane.” his thick Australian accent startled you, causing you to whip around as you pulled your headphones off. “Oh my god!” you dashed over to him jumping into his arms as he laughed and hugged you tight. “I missed you popstar,” he mumbled in your ear as you buried your face into his hoodie, breathing in his scent. “I missed you too,” you whispered against his shoulder. 

You jumped down smiling up at him, “Let’s go order some room service and catch up,” he chuckled and cleared his throat, “Uh…I wanted to see if you wanted to go to dinner tonight, with me?” he smiled softly. “Somewhere nice?” he asked as you grinned and nodded, “yeah! That sounds fun!” you said as you both walked to the Elevators. “I have this super cute outfit I’ve been wanting to wear anyways!” you grinned as he chuckled. “I’m sure you’re going to look as beautiful as you always do,” Chris smiled at you, his eyes twinkled softly as you talked about your upcoming show, which was a couple of nights away and Chris was thrilled he was going to attend it. 

When he was touring with you, he would stay back at the hotel, usually cooking a meal for the two of you and picking out a couple of movies for you guys to watch and relax after your shows. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go to your shows, it was just easier to avoid the press. After the divorce, anytime they had the opportunity to print something about him or his ex wife, they jumped on it.  

Once you guys made it back up to the hotel suite, you got ready for the evening, excited to have a nice dinner with someone who didn’t give a shit how famous you were, or what was happening in your life. You looked in the mirror and smiled at the black sequinned dress, which looked like a night sky, with clouds and a half moon on it. You wore strappy black heels and a fur jacket; and paired it with a silver flashy purse with a diamond studded necklace. 

Chris grinned as he saw you come from your bedroom, “Whoa…you look…..incredible,” he held his hand out spinning you around as you giggled softly, “Thank you. My friend Kayleigh had this made for me, and I hadn't found the right occasion to wear it yet, but thought tonight was perfect.” you smiled as he smiled tenderly at you. “Well it’s perfect, come, I’ve made reservations for us.” he chuckled as you giggled excitedly. “Yay! It’s going to be so nice just…going to dinner and relaxing,” you said as you both headed to the car. 

Pulling up to your favorite restaurant you sighed softly, the paparazzi were covering the street and you looked at Chris. “I’m sorry…I know you want to avoid them, I can go first…maybe see if they have a back entrance you can come through?” you said as he reached over and grabbed your hand, smiling softly. “I think I can manage a few photos with a beautiful girl before we go to dinner.” 

The way he smiled at you, something felt different, you were starting to convince yourself that it was all in your head, but a small part of you wanted him to be into you. You knew you were developing feelings for him. “Y/N! Over here! Over here!” several voices shouted at you as you climbed out of the SUV and made your way around to the sidewalk. You smiled, waved at them, clearly not showing annoyance that you held toward them sometimes and even asked a few of them how they were doing this evening. 

You stopped and posed for a couple of photos, when the other door opened and Chris got out smiling and waving at them for a moment before he put his hand on the small of your back as he walked with you to the door. The camera clicks intensified as he placed his hand on your back and you could hear them shouting more questions as you walked in together.

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[try-set-me-on-fire]

Ok well i had the brief thought “what about an ER nurse Eddie au?” and then this popped fully formed into existence so fuck it Friday pt 2.. warnings for smoking and vague references to critically injured kids

“That doesn’t seem very healthy.”

Smoke curls up from the cigarette held loosely in Eddie’s hand. “It’s not, particularly.”

Buck’s hands are in his pockets as he strolls away from the glass doors out into the ambulance bay where Eddie is doing the mature, professional equivalent of playing hide and seek. He comes to a stop barely a foot or two away from where Eddie leans against grimy concrete. “Didn’t know you were a smoker.”

“I’m not,” Eddie sighs, “Particularly.” He looks over Buck’s face as he takes a drag, cataloging bruises and cuts. He hadn’t been the one to look him over before he was discharged, probably because he was out here avoiding having to do so. “Only when it’s- only after the bad shifts.” And only once a month, even if the bad shifts come again and again. He bought this pack in January, it’s stale as shit.

Buck’s eyes follow the smoke as it drifts skyward. “Rough one today?”

Eddie thinks he probably doesn’t have to explain to Buck that it’s sometimes better when a kid is dead on arrival so he doesn’t have to try his best to administer care he knows will be useless. He doesn’t have to explain a day where nothing goes right and he loses more people than he can save and he still has to walk away from someone’s parent or wife or sister, left behind forever in a waiting room on the worst day of their life, and go on to lose the next person too. Doesn’t have to explain why he’s out here, and not in there. “Mm. We’ve got this repeat customer, always hate to have him back.”

Buck’s eyes flick to his face before they settle somewhere around his elbow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He seems like a nice guy. I worry about him. He’s here too often.”

Buck doesn’t look up. “What was he in for this time?”

“Minor concussion. Bruising. Lacerations.” Eddie sucks cancer into his lungs. “Heard a house fell on him.” Exhales it into the night.

Buck does look up this time, eyes a darker blue out here in the shadows. “Part of a house. Just a staircase and the- like, the balcony, really.”

“Maybe he should stay away from those.”

“From houses?” Buck asks, half his mouth twitching into a smile.

Eddie rests his head on the wall behind him. “Guess that’s not really practical.”

“No.” Buck is quiet for a moment, one hand slipping out of his pocket and running through his hair. Eddie wonders what he looks like, when he’s not here. He’s more styled, sometimes, when things aren’t very bad. He wonders if he’s usually all gelled up and neat. Eddie kind of likes the loose curls. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Making your day worse.” Buck looks genuinely apologetic, and Eddie shakes his head.

“The guy made it out okay this time.” Buck is just close enough that Eddie can kick at his boot with his sensible orthopedic sneaker. “You didn’t even need stitches.”

“That’s good.” Eddie’s left foot is pressed along the inside of Buck’s right, and Buck is staring down at them. “His favorite nurse was on break. I would have missed you if someone else had to do them.”

Eddie laughs, just a few bursts of soundless oxygen. “You gotta find new ways to see me before something happens that I can’t fix.”

Buck moves, taking the few steps necessary to lean against the wall beside him. Carefully, he takes the cigarette from Eddie’s hand, holds it between two of his own fingers, and takes a drag. Eddie watches it happen like he’s monitoring somebody’s pulse ox, and when Buck coughs he laughs again, louder this time. “Fuck,” Buck says, laughing too. “Thought that would be cooler than it was.”

“Smoking isn’t cool, firefighter Buckley,” Eddie says, taking the cigarette back and pulling from it again between smiling lips.

“Hm,” Buck says, grinning out into the night. Then he sighs, and rolls his head along the concrete to look at Eddie. “I think there’s nothing you can’t fix.”

They’re very close. “There’s lots I can’t fix.”

Buck shrugs like he disagrees. “I also think I’d like to find other ways to see you.”

Buck’s eyes are even more in shadow at this angle, and they’re the color of the lake back in El Paso that he and a bunch of kids went to after graduation, drunk off beer somebody’s cousin got for them, skinny dipping with breathless terrified delight under bright constellations. “Then ask me.”

Buck inhales as Eddie exhales. “What time’s your shift end?”

“5:30 AM. So, probably 6:15.”

Buck traces the two fingers he’d used to hold the cigarette down Eddie’s arm. “You wanna get breakfast with me?”

“Yes. I would.”

Buck smiles, and Eddie snubs out the cigarette on the wall between them. “I’ll meet you here?”

“Alright.” He takes a step forward, then a step to the right so he’s standing in front of Buck. “Two hours.”

“Uh huh.”

He should really get back inside. They’re understaffed, as always, and there are too many patients, as always, and not enough beds, as always. “See you then.” He doesn’t make any move to leave.

“See you then,” Buck almost whispers. He leans forward, and Eddie still doesn’t move, so he presses a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth for just a moment. His lips are warm. Eddie hadn’t noticed it was cold outside.

Buck pulls back and leans against the wall again. Eddie smiles, puts a hand in his pocket, and walks back toward the doors.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Storm & Blaze

(1-1)

Short story # 22

Gifs NOT mine.

Summary - You were once friends with Reed, and when he calls asking for some assistance on a project, you're happy to offer him a helping hand. But the moment you enter the lab, Johnny finds himself completely smitten. And when he learns who and what you are, he truly believes you're the one for him.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 10 minutes

Johnny is OOC af but what do you expect?

"Wait so why can't you finish this project?" Johnny asked for the fifth time in the past hour. Ben groaned in annoyance. "I told you, an old friend of mine has the final piece to this project." Reed explained, growing impatient waiting for his old companion. "What do you mean they have the final piece?" Johnny pried, confused as to why someone Reed hadn't spoke to in years, would have something so important to him. "Look you're just going to have to-" But Reed was cut off when the lab doors swung open, a woman dressed in a black leather jacket, with a large chain wrapped diagonally across her torso, skin tight skinny jeans, and killer combat boots, strutted in as if she owned the place. "You're finally here." Reed breathed a sigh of relief, while the others were stunned into a silence. "Sorry about that, ran into some trouble on my way over." She said with a cunning grin, her voice making Johnny's heart jump in his chest. "Everything okay?" Reed asked as he met her halfway across the large lab. "Nothing I couldn't handle." She shrugged casually, her eyes practically glowing as she looked at the others.

"Oh right." Reed chuckled before turning to his friends, ushering (Y/n) over to them silently. "Guys this is my old friend (Y/n) Blaze." Reed introduced her to them, Susan approaching her first. "It's great to finally meet you, I'm Susan Storm." She smiled brightly at (Y/n), who shook her hand with a kind grin. "This is my brother-" She turned to introduce her brother, only for him to practically shove his way passed her. "Johnny Storm." He stuck his hand out with a charming smile, his skin feeling hot when she shook his hand. "Ben Grimm." The largest of the group introduced, offering his hand for a moment, then pulling away thinking better on it. "Well it's a pleasure to meet you all." (Y/n) hummed with an amused grin, her attention turning to Reed when he grasped her elbow. "I'm really glad you came." He said, silently leading her to the equipment he was working on. "Let's get to it." (Y/n) mused, sensing his eagerness to get on with it. "It's right over here. I probably should have waiting before installing it, but the rod is just through here." Reed pointed to the small gap in the side of the machine. (Y/n) peered inside, her eyes landing on a rod that glew a dull shade of purple. "What do you need me to do?" She asked as she observed the rest of the mechanism.

"Essentially I need you to give it a jump start... You know... With your ability." He murmured the last part, feeling a little guilty for dragging her all the way out here for something that seemed a little trivial. "What's it for?" She asked as she faced her old friend, ignoring the eyes that practically burned into the side of her head. "It's a machine that will contain Johnny's powers, in case he looses control, or just needs to let off some steam." Reed winced at the pun, clearing his throat. "What's his power exactly?" (Y/n) asked curiously, and before Reed had a chance to explain, Johnny appeared at her side. "I can control fire." He said with a charming smile, allowing his hand and forearm to burst into flames. "That's ironic." (Y/n) chuckled as she smiled at Reed, who found her words equally amusing. Though Johnny, Susan, and Ben were a bit confused. "Alright back up, don't know how this will go." (Y/n) said as she turned her attention back to the machine. Reed and Johnny took her advice, and stepped several feet away. "You ever tell them about me?" She asked as she glanced back at her old friend, who looked a bit bashful. "No I didn't." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little bad, despite the fact that they hadn't been close in years. "Okay. Well no matter what happens, don't touch me." (Y/n) said as she looked to the others, who seemed confused though they still nodded their heads in agreement.

Content with that, (Y/n) turned back to the machine, reaching her arm deep into the gap, until her fingers wrapped around the rod. Susan wanted to protest, knowing it wasn't safe for anyone to touch the rod with their bare hands, but Reed stopped her, placing a comforting hand onto her shoulder. (Y/n) shuddered at the electrifying sensation that burned up her arm. "Fuck." She breathed out softly, tapping just barely into her power. Her eyes glew brightly as the rod began blazing with life, a horrifying screeching sound echoed throughout the lab. Everyone but (Y/n) clutched their ears, hissing in pain. (Y/n) grunted a gutteral primal sound, her skin burning and turning a bright shade of red. "Let go!" Reed hollered, knowing it had done the trick, and if she kept at it, she might actually bring the machine to life. (Y/n) hissed as she released the now bright glowing rod, pulling her arm out to inspect the damage. Susan gasped at the sight of (Y/n)'s fingers, which had turned a deep shade of black. The woman seemed unconcerned about the development however, wiggling her fingers to make sure they still worked before letting her arm fall back to her side.

"You did it!" Reed gushed as he rushed around the machine to run a few tests. "Glad to help." (Y/n) hummed, her skin slowly cooling, and fading back to its natural tone. "What the fuck?" Johnny breathed out in utter surprise, having been watching her closer than anyone else. (Y/n) glanced his way, and shot him a casual wink. "How did you do that?" Susan asked in astonishment, approaching the machine she had thought would be a lost cause. "He really didn't tell you guys anything about me huh." (Y/n) said with a chuckle, shaking her head a little with a grin. "He never even told us your name." Ben stated gruffly. "Sounds about right." (Y/n) said with an amused roll of her eyes. "Are any of you familiar with the name Johnny Blaze?" She asked as she moved to lean against a large metal table. "Wasn't he that stunt motorcyclist?" Ben asked, to which (Y/n) nodded in agreement. "And my father." She added, the news making Johnny wince inwardly, knowing he shared the same first name as her father. "Didn't he like go awol and disappear years ago?" Ben asked, and (Y/n) clicked her tongue. "Something like that I suppose. Anyways the point is he made a mistake when he was younger, a futile attempt to save his dad. He sold his soul to a demon by the name of Mephisto." She could see the skeptical looks in each of their eyes, something she was used to.

"Anyways it changed him, he was unknowingly bonded with another demon by the name of Zarathos. It's where his power comes from." She thought for a moment before correcting herself. "Came from." She shrugged casually, and while they seemed to find her story odd, they listened intently. "And well when I was a teenager I made the exact same mistake as my father. In exchange for annulling my father's contract, I would take his place, and take up the mantle of Ghost Rider." She licked her lips, pushing off of the table. "I sold my soul, and became a spirit of vengeance." She said as she held her hands out at her sides. Reed had come back around the machine just in time to see her burst into flames, her skin muscle and tissue melting away in an instant, leaving her a skeleton, her clothes unaffected by the flames. The laugh that rumbled in her hollow chest, sounded like the devil himself. Susan had jumped back in surprise, Ben watched with curiosity, And it took everything in Johnny not to tackle her in a hug. Feeling as if he'd found the other half of his soul, his eyes sparkled with astonishment, hypnotized by the flames that lapped at where her skin had been.

Without really thinking Johnny strode towards her, feeling the intense heat of her flames with every step. "Flame on." He muttered as he neared her, ruining his clothes that burned away the instant his body engulfed in flames. (Y/n) observed him with a small tilt of her head, her bony hand reaching out to touch his chest. Another laugh rumbled from her, sounding sinister and dangerous. "(Y/n)." Reed called out to her, afraid she might try using her Penance Stare on Johnny. She looked at Reed for a moment, then back to Johnny, who couldn't tare his eyes away from her. "Johnny what are you doing?" Susan hissed at her brother, who ignored her, as he placed his hands onto (Y/n)'s waist, surprised to find that she didn't feel like a skeleton, but a whole person. (Y/n) in turn wrapped her arms around his neck, anticipating what he might do next. "Don't so anything stupid!" Susan hissed at her brother. Who tightened his grip, and pulled (Y/n) flush against his chest, her clothes still unaffected by the added heat, he suddenly flew them out of the tower. The demonic sound of her laughter made something buzz in Johnny's chest, as he flew them far from New York, and high into the great rocky mountains.

When he landed, they simultaneously extinguished their flames. Leaving Johnny standing there as naked as the day he was born, and (Y/n) looking human once more. "Couldn't keep your hands to yourself huh?" She asked with a teasing grin, still standing chest to chest with him. "Not really." He admitted with a smirk, observing the fine details of her face. "I feel like I'm being pulled towards you, like I'm meant to hold you in my arms." Johnny admitted, more sincere about his admission, than anything else in his life. "I just told you I sold my soul to a demon, and that I am bonded with another demon. And you're infatuated." (Y/n) chuckled with a grin, humming in her throat when Johnny nodded his head in agreement. "You might just be the strangest man I've ever met." She added in a playful tone. "But you like strange don't you?" Johnny asked, slowly inching his face closer to (Y/n)'s. "What makes you so sure?" She taunted, despite finding herself leaning in as well. "We were made for eachother." Johnny stated confidently, finally closing the gap between them. Fire ignited at their feet, and made its way further up their legs, stopping just at their chests as they deepened the kiss.

[in-love-with-movies]

Lightyear (2022)