#and ofc made no apparent effort to care for or make him *feel* cared for | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nerdzzone · 3 years ago

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Luckless Romance

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

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

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

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

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

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

Please let me know what you think!

_____

August 2015

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it was more than just that.

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

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

"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, was that was you asked for?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Does this group need any encouragement?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Terrible is harsh!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Beginners luck!"

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

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

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

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

"It was clearly on your side!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure?"

He nodded in response.

"Absolutely."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can't it be both?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really? Could I see them?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.

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

"I did not!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're just drunk."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"This is me..."

Chris looked up and nodded slowly.

"It doesn't look so bad."

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

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

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

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

Chris laughed, but shook his head.

"Now who's drunk."

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

"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friends.

Good friends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

July 2016

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

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

But we kept things very much friendly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're impossible."

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

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

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

"Hello?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nah, this place is great!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then we'll stay in?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"

"Imaginary ones don't count."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I sighed and shook my head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.

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

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

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

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

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

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

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

"And what did he say?"

I scowled at the memory.

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

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

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

"What was this one's job?"

I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.

"A club promoter."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What was it about then?"

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

Chris shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Until now."

"It's not true!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Demonstrate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was now or never.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are we really doing this?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the anticipation was practically killing me.

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

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

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

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

"Not much of an exhibitionist?"

"Not on the first date."

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

"Alright, that's fair."

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

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

"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"

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

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

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

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

Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Now, it's your turn."

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

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

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

I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Like what you see?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.

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

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

"Well?"

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

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

"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."

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

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

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

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

He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.

"Only because you're huge."

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

"Thank you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You heard about that?"

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

"Everyone heard about that," I teased.

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

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

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

"Atta girl, Winnie..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.

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

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

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

His question made my own smile widen even more.

"Of course not!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn't coming back.

It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.

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

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

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

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

Part Two

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

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

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dreamteamspace · 4 years ago

Text

We hit 400 so here’s a- ✨ DREAM APPRECIATION ESSAY ✨

(by Yours Truly. Much thanks to the one, innocent anon who just wanted to ask a small talk question but hit my serotonin-providing hyperfixation.)

1. Self-esteem

I love the way he’s confident in his abilities when it’s become such a “trend” to either be completely and utterly self-depricating about your own skills out of fear of being labelled an asshole or overconfident nowadays.

At the same time you can still tell he doesn’t want to pull anyone down ever, and will always be really careful with that and take every oppertunity to lift up the people around him. Dream has a very emotional voice that gives him away a lot, so you can really tell he genuinely admires the people around him and he’s never afraid to say that they could totally easily beat him in something if he doesn’t have practice with it.

He tends to be a bit too hard on himself, so his friends always encourage him in his abilities, and that’s just. So nice. He celebrates his victories! He gets so so excited and happy when he wins in the manhunts, and I think celebrating your hard-earned victories isn’t something that should be villanized.

He won, and we should KNOW by now that doesn’t mean he thinks he’s somehow better than everyone. He has a pretty good eye on his abilities, and that allows him to really use them to the max.

2. Morality

He isn’t afraid to change the game! His adhd picks out a Cool New Thing and he just goes, You know what? Why not! His adhd goes “do this thing repeatedly another 3847 times” and he’s like, yeah sure!

Nobody expected him to release a song, but he just went for it! He’s been speedrunning so much, but he isn’t afraid to stream it every day 5 days in a row for hours while his friends bicker in the background.

Dream genuinely does the things he finds fun, but at the same time puts in so much effort to make them good and entertaining to watch and never forgets about his viewers.

He’s kidfriendly because he wants to be! Fame-wise, at this point he could definitly swear more if he wanted to (and he does when in other people’s content who don’t care about swearing), but despite that he doesn’t swear on his main because he wants his content to be accessable for everyone.

Sure, on one hand it could be for clout/money, but consider: Dream doesn’t stream the DSMP because he doesn’t want to take attention away from other people. He participates in the videos of his friends. He lets compilation channels and the like do whatever they want and even monetize his content. He lets his friends stream Road Trip on twitch as much as they want for free.

Dream doesn’t not swear just for his fanbase, but he does it because he has so so much respect for people. No matter how high he goes, he’s always consciously focused on respecting and admiring the people around him.

He has genuine respect for creators so much smaller than him, and he has respect for people in his fanbase that are younger than him. He isn’t afraid to go against the norm and STAND for that, either (see the video where he defends his stans).

And he defends his friends so much too! So much so it could almost be a little bit of a flaw sometimes, but I feel like he truly wants to learn from his mistakes. He apologizes for things even when nobody asked him to, and that just shows that he does it out of genuine guilt and fear of hurting someone.

He’s always seemed like someone who is genuinely willing to change to be a better version of himself, who isn’t afraid to challenge what he thinks and what other people think and what the norm thinks in order to improve everything for everyone.

Dream also doesn’t let any of the fame get to his head! As I said before - he’s confident in the things he’s good at, but in a way that doesn’t pull other people down, and he still remains firmly admirable of other people.

And even when OTHER people let fame get to their head (it was a while ago, but there was a video he made about five block jumps, where he added in a clip of a video of another guy doing it complete with credit and link etc. The guy was 100% alright with it at first, but when his video started getting more views because Dream’s video blew up, he started accusing Dream of “stealing” his content (when dozens of other videos of the 5 block jump already existed, and Dream could’ve just put in a clip of himself doing the jump)),,, but he insisted in his reponse that fame gets to people’s heads sometimes, nobody should blame anybody, he genuinely was never upset at him and just said that this just... happens sometimes.

He’s a very forgiving person all around, in part due to being willing to challenge his own norms and give people the benefit of the doubt JUST in case he’s wrong. He lets people enjoy things so long as they aren’t hurting anybody, like allowing people to ship him w people who are also alright with shipping, but at the same time taking a hard stance on, say, how shipping minors is absolutely wrong and should not be done ever (and he’s right).

3. Fandom

He appreciates said fanart and fanworks as well! He thinks dnf fanart is cool and he even appreciates the fanfic part of his fandom, something many ccs wish to ignore or forget it exists altogether (and it IS ofc in their right to do so or be uncomfortable with such content!), but Dream sees the work put into it and how people find connections and friendships through the fandom and appreciates it all the same.

He loves his fandom. So much. But not in the overdone, fake-feeling way I’ve seen other ccs be,,,, he’s just. Quiet and shy and genuine about it but not afraid to defend it.

He’s said before - and I QUOTE - “If you send hate to people or have sent hate to people, in the form of hateful comments or DMs, you aren’t welcome in my fandom. You’re no fan of mine”, which is the HOTTEST take he’s ever uttered and I love that. He really just went and said that. And he’s right. I like that despite how he’s usually more held back and waits things out before taking a stance, he chose this topic to really take a hard stance on and not budge and stick to it.

Pmbata has also said that he believes his fans have his back no matter what!! And that he really loves them a lot!!! And I am!! Emotional!!!!

4. ND/Adhd

He has adhd which is something I relate to personally (I have it as well sdlkfj). He gets excited sometimes!! I love how he shows being fidgety in mc, always pacing and parcouring around,, the way that in manhunts you can SEE when he’s thinking or bouncing back and forth between two options,,, or the way he gets close to people in mc to laugh with them.... He shows so much with his movements by them being quick and daring and calculated (and it’s especially hilarious to watch other people react to it in the video “mc but three people control one player”, where he’s the one moving and Sapnap and George will gasp or go “Dream!!” in surprise when Dream was THIS close to falling off a ledge, but he just laughs sdlkfjsdf).

When he’s not moving around he stands perfectly, perfectly still (which, idk if thats what all adhd ppl have, but I know I have something similar? Like when I’m nervous I’ll sometimes just. Freeze in place. No movement at all). He’s just relatable sdkjf.

There was one Manhunt extra scenes where he,,,,, stims by clapping,,,,,, the lil excited clap in the background,,, I’m gonna cry. I’m so soft for excited Dream that one is such a comfort clip for me!

He also tends to stim by getting under trap doors and then jumping back out of them, or jumping up a block and then walking back down over and over (especially noticable in The Village Went Mad tftsmp episode, where they were all discussing who the murderer could be and he was the only one moving, hopping up the log and then running back down again).

Also it is. Really Soft when he starts rambling and overexplaining something. What’s even better is that George, who is usually present at such moments, will laugh a little at his antics, and Dream will automatically laugh with him.

5. Rp/Uplifting other ccs

Dream wasn’t all THAT into the rp at first, but his server has been so strongly supporting and giving attention to smaller creators that he’s since completely rolled along with it. Being a villain in the RP is a difficult role because you will, inevitable, as much as it is just roleplay and all scripted, always get some amount of dislike from people for it.

Despite that, he’s basicly the main big villain on his own server where he let a bunch of theater kids beat him up in character and imprison him on his OWN SERVER. He wasn’t as into the rp at first, but has obviously been practicing and joins every Tales of the SMP when he can, despite getting zero clout for it.

What Dream also tends to do is find small content creators, see their talent and lift them high. His entire discord server is dedicated to give smaller ccs a place to grow, and when he first found Tubbo, Tommy, Ranboo, etc., they were much much smaller than they are now. He truly wanted to help them make it big.

He’s also added Foolish Shark and Hannah onto the SMP, both much smaller ccs (not tiny, but you get what I mean), allowing them to grow. He doesn’t stream on his OWN SERVER. He let himself get imprisoned to let the good guys win on his OWN. SERVER. He’s willing to play the villain and everything.

An interesting thing though! A lot of people used to/still do clown on Dream a bit for his sometimes uncertain acting,,, but when he’s around people he knows well (Sapnap and George, Tubbo and Tommy) we’ve seen him go ALL OUT. I have the theory Dream might be genuinely afraid to accidentally be mean to someone in character and have them misinterpret it sldkfjsdf,,, so he’s rly careful when he goes into the rp, and sometimes even when he’s in it he goes quiet, especially with other people around.

But also the fact that he needs time to feel comfortable around ppl is,, a mood,,, and adorable,,, sdlfkjsdf-

Apparently he’s also shared his youtube algorithm secrets with Tommy?? Which he had only shared with Sapnap and George before?? Dream took one look at that chaotic kid and immedietly adopted him as his little brother. He literally got up super early to rp the prison visit. Idk about ya’ll but I would die for someone first and get up horribly early for them second-

6. Friends!!

Dream?? Considers so so many people his friends?? And despite having so many friends, he also has his few closest friends (George and Sapnap) whom he would absolutely die for in a heartbeat. He WILL defend them with everything he has and loves them so so much.

He listens to them and really, truly wants them to succeed. He respects them so much and will go OFF about how good they actually are and how talented they are and how important they are to him.

I can’t even COVER everything about how much he is SOULMATES with Gorg. They live in each others heads rent-free. He mentions him all the time. They get!! So happy when they’re around each other!!! Their voices get so soft,,

And I can’t even BEGIN to explain the energy of Sapnap and Dream just moving together permanently. Imagine moving together with your best friend. Like, permanently. Into one house. They’re best friends Your Honor,,,,

Also,, remember the Techno and Dream rivalry? And Dream has recently said that he’s hesitant to make a serious manhunt against Techno because he doesn’t want there to be any feud between them or have them be compared to each other. He said that while he absolutely wanted nothing more than to beat Techno at first, now that he knows him better he just wants to be friends with him. He wants to be FRIENDS. With his, essentially, mc RIVAL. Friendly rival, but still. He doesn’t even wanna fight Techno or have ppl compare them cause he,,, wants to be friends with him,,,,

7. Vulnerability

What I feel like really sets Dream apart from some other ccs for me is that he’s willing to be vulnerable. He will tell George he loves him. He defends his friends. He sounds so, so genuine when he tells his fandom that he loves them.

What’s just really rare to see, especially in male ccs, is that vulnerability. It’s becoming more acceptable as time goes on, but it’s certainly not easy, and a lot of people become and stay long-term fans BECAUSE they can see how genuine he is.

I know Dream looks up to Mr. Beast a lot, for example, but honestly? I think he’s a little better than Mr. Beast. Because he feels more genuine, more bound to what he believes is right. I’m sure Mr. Beast isn’t a bad content creator! But ultimately they have different target audiences and I’m very glad Dream is the way he is.

Less of that insecure masculinity and more willing to be vulnerable, to care about things, to get emotional and to encourage and uplift the people around him.

8. Pure Brainrot

Green boi has nice deep calm soothing voice. Little shy laugh. Wheeze laugh. Gorg live in his head rent-free. He lov friends. He lov block game. He good at block game,,, a little shy but confident,,, big heart,,,, soft voice,,,,, rambles sometimes....

He also Gender. He’s so gender. I don’t know how else to describe it. I want That. Whatever That is. My gender is Dreamwastaken

#mcyt #mcytblr #dreamwastaken #dream #dream appreciation #long post #dreamteamspace speaks #space writes #yes this goes in my writing tag #this is Way too many words to only be in my normal tag #but how many dream apreciation essays have you written fear huh? Huh?? /lh #mr beast critical #adhd tw #adhd #just in case?

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years ago

Text

mix up

Summary: A mix up with the buildings laundry was all it took to get what you always secretly wanted.

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (can be read as reader insert)

Wordcount: 4k+

Warnings: lots of cursing, smut (Oral; female receiving; sex), sex toys, also fluff, bad flirting as ususal

A/N: In my mind, this was a drabble. Apparently my brain had other ideas. The biggest thank you to @f0rever15elf for being my beta on this <3

Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

Pushing the laundry bin with your dirty laundry out of your apartment, you checked if you had everything before you locked the door of your apartment behind you. It was laundry day. Thankfully the apartment in Bogata came with a laundry service. Not that you were not able to do your own laundry, you simply didn’t have time for it. The last thing on your mind while chasing down Escobar was doing your laundry. The job took every single second of your life, even in the few times you were off from work, even in your sleep. Walking down the long hallway, the last door you passed was Javier’s. You heard him curse something in spanish before the door opened and a similar laundry bin was placed in front of his door. You tilted your head as you looked at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, a little grin on your lips.

“What?” He asked looking down at himself.

“Nothing.” You hummed. “I love that color on you.” You winked before you walked out.

“Fuck you too.” He chuckled as he followed you.

“What? I do love it. As a matter of fact I own some pink stuff I wear occasionally.” You unlocked the car and he jumped into the passenger's seat.

Javier and you were co-workers. He had joined you in the hunt for Escobar only shortly after you arrived here from DC. You would say you even became friends. As possible as it was to become friends with him. There were only a handful of people who knew the lengths you had to go through at this job. Of course, he had tried to get into your pants first but the both of you decided it would be for the better to keep this strictly non physical. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Though secretly you felt yourself wishing it was you on the receiving end of his “affection” as you lay in bed alone at night, while he was fucking some prostitute on the other side of the building.

“I’ve never seen you wearing anything pink, Guapa.” He pushed his yellow aviators up as he reached for the pack of cigarettes. You started the engine and looked at him.

“Oh Javier… There are many things you haven’t seen me wear.” You winked. You could see when the penny dropped and he shook his head, with a small grin.

“Fuck. I didn’t even have my coffee yet and you put pictures of you in underwear inside my head?”

“I never said it was my underwear. But… That’s payback for making me listen to the moaning from your apartment last night.” You finally got the car on the road.

“Jealous?” He asked, holding his cigarette by the window. You mentioned once that you weren’t a big fan of smoke but didn’t mind it. He had made the effort to turn himself away from you from that day on when he smoked.

“More curious.” You said honestly.

“How so?” You stopped at a red light, turning your head to look at him.

“We both know you are paying most of those women, so how real is their… valuation with you if you know what I mean?” You were genuinely curious. You had two relationships before and both of them didn’t really care for your pleasure. You had been responsible for your own orgasms all your life and you were wondering…

“Oh they aren’t acting Guapa. I know what I’m doing.” He winked at you and threw his cigarette out.

“Every man says that.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes.

“Well… You’ll have to trust my word. The only way you could be sure was if I showed you, and we both agreed that nothing will ever happen between us, right?” He asked. You nodded and looked away from him, starting the car again, when the light switched to green. You didn’t notice him looking at you as you continued to drive.

“If we wouldn’t be working together, would you?” He asked as you parked the car in front of the embassy and killed the engine. The car ride had been silent since the red light.

“Would I what?” You asked pulling your purse out from the backseat.

“Let me show you that I definitely know what I’m doing?” He asked, his voice deeper as he looked into your eyes. You looked back into his and wondered if anyone had ever noticed the small caramel like spot in this right eye.

“I guess that’s another thing you will never find out, Peña.” You had a small smile on your lips, hoping to cover up your nervousness. He looked at you knowingly before he let his tongue dart out to wet his lips. You swallowed, your eyes flying to his lips before you looked up and he bit his lip.

“Shame,” he whispered before he opened the car door and got out of the car. You closed your eyes, ignoring the throbbing between your legs as you watched him go into the building.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered, shaking your head to follow him inside.

Weeks went by without either of you mentioning the conversation between you. At some point, you thought you imagined the whole thing. You continued to work together. You both took care of Steve when Connie left to go back to the states unannounced. You couldn’t blame her. You’ve been wondering yourself if what you were doing would end in catching Escobar in the end.

Javi and you were a pretty damn good team at work. He always had your back which was a gift you truly cherished. When you had first met him and Steve, you would have bet a lot of money that they would be just like the other assholes you had worked with before. But they weren’t. Of course Javier continued to flirt with you. That’s just who he was. But he also did acknowledge your intelligence and knew when he had to shut up and actually listen. You grew so comfortable with each other that just one look from the other would tell if it was a good day, or a bad day.

Today had been a bad day for you.

Not only was the lead you had chased the day before a dead end, but you just felt exhausted. Like the last weeks of working constantly came crashing down at you all at once. So you called in sick. For the first time… ever. You ignored that one of the reasons you felt so shitty was the fact that Steve and Javier had been gone for 3 days now.

A knock on your door made you groan but you made your way to open up anyway, thanking the lady with your clean laundry with a smile before you closed the door and brought it into your bedroom. Deciding to put the clothes away right now instead of letting them stay on your bed as you usually did, you frowned when you saw a very pink shirt on the bottom. You let your fingers run over the fabric. It was Javi’s shirt. The one you teased him about.

Biting your lip, you looked down at it. You should give it back to him. You knew that. But he would be gone for at least another two days and you felt lonely. You opened the buttons, pulling the shirt you were wearing off and got his shirt on. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You had never worn a shirt of a man before, and when you pictured it before you weren’t thinking about a pink shirt, or Javi’s, but somehow you liked the way it looked on you. Smiling to yourself you pulled the fabric closer and you could swear you smelled his aftershave even though it was freshly cleaned. You did spend more time than you would ever admit to anyone thinking about him. The way he walked. The way he ran his hands through his hair when he was frustrated. How you could see his chest hair when he was wearing his poorly buttoned shirts. Closing your eyes you shook your head.

Coworker. He was your Coworker.

Your very attractive Coworker who you caught undressing you with his own eyes more than once. In the quiet of your apartment you often dreamed what it would be like. Him touching you. You knew he could have anyone, yet he chose to pay for sex. He didn’t seem like he was looking to have any relationship, and you couldn’t blame him. But what if he chose you? What if he wasn’t your Coworker? What if he was just Javi? Your neighbor. What if you weren’t in Colombia chasing down drug lords?

You pictured him coming home to you and taking you on the kitchen table. Would he go down on you? You bet he would. He seemed like he enjoyed pleasuring his woman. His woman. You wanted to be his woman. Even though you knew he wasn’t looking for someone. He told you before on a very drunken night out that he sucked at relationships. He just needed someone to make him forget, someone…

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts again. Looking at yourself you considered answering whoever was at the door dressed in this shirt but decided against it and put on your bathrobe. There was another knock at your door.

“One second!” You called pulling the bathrobe closer around your body as you unlocked your door.

“Javi?” You asked, surprised. “I thought you’d be back on Saturday.” You pulled the bathrobe around you closer, suddenly feeling too naked to be standing in front of him, even though your whole body was covered.

“You’re okay. Thank.. Fuck. You’re okay.” He sighed relieved looking at you.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” You frowned, a little confused.

“I went to the embassy and no one knew where you were and…” He closed his eyes.

“I called in sick. I’m okay. I promise.” You said quietly. He ran his hand over his mouth, his other hand on his hip as he looked at you, his eyes tired.

“Are you okay Javier?” You asked a little confused at him just showing up like that. “Why are you back already?”

“Dead end. Didn’t see the point of staying there.” He shrugged.

“Okay. Then you should go to..”

“What are you wearing there?” he asked and nodded towards you.

“Uhm…” You looked down at yourself and tried to hide your surprise at seeing a bit of the pink shirt out. You looked up at him again, and you could see his grin.

“Is that pink I see?” His grin got wider. You sucked your bottom lip in.

“I told you I wear pink. Occasionally.” You shrugged. He nodded and continued to look at you before he stepped a little closer. You could see in his eyes that he was trying to work out what was going on and you noticed the moment he made the connection. His eyes darkened and you cursed yourself for not changing out of his shirt before you answered the door.

“Is that… my shirt?” He whispered deeply. A shudder ran over your body. His hand came up, reaching for the collar that you apparently hadn’t tucked in as well as you thought you had. His finger brushed over your throat as his other hand slowly opened your bathrobe. One of your hands held your shirt together that you didn’t bother to button up. You shouldn’t have put it on in the first place.

“Fuck, you’re wearing my shirt,” he cursed. You looked up at him, breathing deeply. You weren’t wearing anything but some panties beneath it. He looked down your body before he looked up at you again, his hand running up your neck to the back of your head.

You should take a step back, turn around and get away from him. Cause the way he was looking at you made your knees weak.

“Javi, I can explain…” You mumbled, but he only shook his head slowly. The look he gave you made your poor explanation die on your lips.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered as he stepped even closer. You felt the coldness of his leather jacket as he pushed your bathrobe from your shoulders and you shivered.

“Close the door, Javier,” you whispered. He looked at you, taking you in before he turned around and closed and locked the door. Pulling off his leather jacket he let it fall to the floor as he stalked towards you.

“I will never be able to get this picture out of my head.” He said as he walked you backwards until your back hit a wall behind you.

“You… You don’t have to get this picture out of your head.” You whispered.

“No?” He asked. One of his hands coming down on your hip as his other hand brushed some of your hair away that had fallen in your face. You shook your head at him.

“If you want to see me in your shirts, make sure to leave them with me after…” You bit your lip.

“After?” He leaned down and you felt his breath on your face.

“After you’ve fucked me.” You whispered and sighed when his lips crashed down on yours. You grabbed onto his back, pulling him closer as he licked into your mouth. Parting your lips without resistance you moaned when you felt one of his hands slip down your back.

“Been dreaming about this for years.” He groaned against your lips as he kissed down your neck, pushing the shirt you were still wearing open and you saw his little smile when he saw your boobs.

“Me too.” You whimpered as his teeth scratched over your neck.

“Tell me.” He whispered, softly sucking on your pulse point on your neck before he kissed down your collarbone.

“Wanted you to feel against me. Wanted to… Ahh..” You cried out when his lips closed around one of your nipples.

“Tell me.” He groaned and looked up at you, not releasing the bud and sucked. You wouldn’t be able to continue to stand on your own feet if he kept that up.

“Wanted to taste you. Wanted you to taste me. Wanted you to…”

“Fuck you?” He asked, releasing your nipple with an obscene sound. You just nodded.

“Been wondering if you taste as good as you smell.” He whispered and kissed down your stomach.

“May I?” He knelt in front of you, his dark eyes wild as he looked up at you. You hesitated.

“I… No one ever….” You sucked your bottom lip in, shy all of the sudden. He seemed to understand immediately, cursing under his breath.

“You should be worshipped. Fucking losers. All of them.” He shook his head and got up from the ground.

“Will you let me?” He asked softly. There was nothing but affection in his eyes and you felt yourself nodding. You shrieked when he picked you up in his arms, moaning when he kissed you as he carried you to your bedroom. Carefully he set you down and you looked up at him. You wondered what this would change between you. Because you wouldn’t be able to go back to being just friends after this.

“You’re not just a fuck, hermosa.” He seemed to answer your thoughts.

“Let me feel you.” You said as you got up to stand in front of him. He didn’t stop you as you pulled his shirt out of his jeans and began to unbutton it, kissing his chest before you pulled it off. He groaned as you teased his nipple.

“Lay down on your back and let me take care of you.” He kissed you quickly and you complied, wanting to take the pink shirt off when he stopped you.

“No. Keep that on.” He smirked and you giggled.

“Whatever you want,” you hummed.

“Be careful what you wish for.” He said quietly as he looked down at you. A shiver ran over your body at the look he gave you and you could feel just how wet you were.

“What if I like playing with danger?” you asked. He furrowed his eyebrows before his hands opened the fly of his jeans. You swallowed, your eyes not leaving his as he pushed his jeans down. It was like he was challenging you to look and when you did you released a breath you couldn’t remember holding in. Of course he wasn’t wearing anything beneath his tight jeans.

When he was standing completely naked in front of you, he leaned down to slowly peel your embarrassingly damp panties down. He kissed up your leg, his mustache rubbing over the skin and you giggled when he kissed the skin behind your knees.

“Someone’s ticklish.” He mumbled against your skin.

“Maybe.” You smiled. He kissed up your inner thigh and unintentionally you wanted to close your legs but he didn’t let you.

“Let me look at you hermosa,” he whispered, looking up at you. You were only able to nod slowly.

“If this is how I die I won't complain.” He murmured before his tongue darted out to taste you. You wanted to look at him but the way he nibbled, licked, and sucked made you throw your head back, moaning loudly. You grabbed the bedsheets, trying to ground yourself as he sucked at you clit.

“So fucking good,” he groaned against you and you cried out.

“Fuck, keep going…,” you moaned. One of his hands on your stomach held you down while his other hand grabbed one of your boobs, kneading them, pulling at your nipple.

“Cum for me baby.” He whispered, his tongue dipping inside of you.

“Fuck….” You arched your back, heat rushing through your body as you almost blacked out when your orgasm washed over you.

This was unlike anything you ever felt before. You were so out of it you didn’t notice Javi stopped until his mouth was on your neck before he made you look at him. You felt his cock between your legs and you shakily breathed out, a blissful smile on your face as he leaned down to kiss you softly. You didn’t know nor did you care how long he kissed you, you just knew you never wanted to stop.

“You did enjoy that, right?” He asked and you punched against his chest, making him laugh.

“You’re awfully full of yourself, Agent Peña.” You shook your head and he cocked an eyebrow.

“What if I want you to be awfully full of myself?” He smirked.

“You did not just say that.” You snorted, shaking with laughter beneath him.

“Sorry,” he laughed with you, looking down at you.

“No you’re not.” You grinned and he chuckled.

“Do you though?” He asked, quieter now as his laughter subsided. You arched your eyebrow in question. “Want me to fuck you?” He kissed down your jaw, as he rolled his hips against yours.

“Is me naked beneath you not clue enough? I thought you knew that you were a good Agent and knew what you’re doing...” You teased, your hands wandering down his back, pulling him against you. He bit into your shoulder and you moaned.

“Oh I’m gonna show you that I know exactly…” He kissed you. You groaned as you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance. “How to make you cum.”

“Condoms... “ You gestured to your bedside drawer. He nodded, disappearing from your point of view before he was back, a dirty grin on his face.

“This is gonna be fun.” He whispered, holding a condom and your vibrator up. You blushed looking away from him.

“No need to be shy, hermosa.” He ripped the condom package open and pulled it over his hard cock. You felt his hand between your legs and you looked up at him, before two of his fingers entered you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“So If nobody ever made you cum by going down at you…” He kept fingering you slowly, adding another finger and you moaned quietly, feeling so full already.

“Did anyone ever make you cum?” He asked, his thumb slowly circling your clit and you were about to cum again when he stopped. You pouted.

“Huh?” He asked.

“Yes Javi. I made myself cum.” You groaned and he shook his head.

“Not anymore.” He hummed before you slowly felt himself push into you. You stopped breathing, looking up at him, embracing the delicious burn you felt as he split you in half. The sounds he was making would haunt you in the best way possible.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned and you released a breath when he was fully inside of you. He stilled, probably wanting you to get used to the stretch but all you wanted was..

“Move. Javi.” You pleaded and that was all he needed to hear.

“Feels better than I imagined.” He pressed, slowly fucking into you. He put your legs around his waist as he leaned down to kiss you. Holding him close, you let him fuck you, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts. Never in your life did you feel that full. He kissed every piece of skin his lips came in contact with and you grabbed onto his back, surely leaving marks as he moved faster.

“Please…,” you moaned.

“Please what Hermosa?” he rasped, sucking on your shoulder.

“Harder.” You whimpered.

“You want it harder my needy girl?” he asked. You were only able to nod as he pushed away from you, pulling your legs over his shoulders. He held on to your legs before he began to ram into you.

“You want it harder. You get it harder. You get everything you fucking want.” He groaned.

“Fuck yes.” You moaned, holding onto the mattress beneath you. Closing your eyes you just let him do whatever the fuck he wanted. Never in your life had you been fucked like that. The familiar buzzing of your toy let you snap your attention back to the man curently fucking the life out of you and you almost jumped when the vibe made contact with your clit.

“Shit…,” you cried out, surprised when your orgasm washed over you within seconds.

“Fuck fuck….” Javie groaned, fucking you through your orgasm, throwing the vibe away.

“Can you give me one more?” He asked. You shook your head, still trying to breath properly, when he pulled out of you and turned you so you were straddling him.

“Ride me baby.” He smiled up at you. You leaned down, kissing him longingly before you carefully sat down on his cock.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said in awe, looking up at you as you slowly rolled your hips, still oversensensetive from your orgasm. Both of his hands sneaked under his shirt you were still wearing, massaging your boobs.

“You gonna give me one more, hermosa?” He moaned quietly, pushing himself up, his arms coming around you, his chest against you as he moved his hips against yours.

“Javi…” You whimpered, holding on to his shoulders.

“Tell me what you need…”

“Kiss me,” you whispered. His lips were on you in the next moment and you shook as you felt your third orgasm approaching.

“Cum for me, Javi,” you whispered, clenching your walls, one of your hands pulling at his hair. He moaned against your chest as you felt him swell before he twitched and that was all it took for you to cum again.

Out of breath you held on to each other, your head on top of his, his lips still attached to your boob.

“We should have done this sooner,” he chuckled and you smiled as you looked at him.

“We should have,” you agreed. You felt him soften inside of you but not you nor him were ready to let go of one another. You kissed him softly.

“We could do this again, you know?” You said carefully. You knew you wouldn’t be able to share him with anyone, he had to know. He looked at you.“But I’m not sharing what’s mine,” you added.

“Yours, huh?” He asked, a little smile on his face. You nodded.

“I like the sound of that.” He said before he kissed you deeply.

#my writing #Javier Peña #fanfic #fanfiction #javier pena #Javier pena x reader #Javier pena x ofc #Javier pena x you #pedro pascal

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thetypingpup · 2 years ago

Note

i majorly overslept today so been looking at your new posts like 😳😳🥴 (mainly the bunny!jaemin/fox or wolf!reader). THAT'S A GOOD POINT. apparently courtship in rabbits is very brief before getting down to business but foxes will have a lot of playtime/frolicking together and wolves will also cuddle and walk together and get very close... so i feel like jaemin'd be like "oh?? it's that time for you? you need help? sure, i'm right here, baby." (continues)

(cont') whereas the reader gets sulky or even that he isn't thinking to do the other stuff like playing around or basically just getting super close as a prélude to it all. ofc jaemin CAN do all the sappy, tender romantic things and enjoy it but maybe he wouldn't know it's expected to satisfy a canid heat. i'm especially smiling abt foxes/rabbits bc foxes are ofc skittish and tbh my rabbit will scare people more than vice versa by moving suddenly so just writing that dynamic would be adorable.

anon i don't think you have any idea how much this speaks to my s o u l. 1000% yes to all of this! for a canid reader this stuff would be super important bc you’d wanna make sure that this isn’t just about wanting sex. you’d want the sense that he actually likes you and cares about you, which of course leads to a whole range of emotions. i don't even have much to add this is just so perfect i'm speechless

edit: WAIT bc i just thought about what if bunny!jaemin can sense your heat and tries to initiate to help, and of course thinking that he doesn’t want to do any of the prelude stuff you’d feel some kind of way and refuse at first. even tho you feel your heat coming on and its making your temperature spike and making you squirm in your seat, you still explain that you want...more. you wanna do more with him, play around with him, spend time with him, form a genuine connection, but you’re not sure if he really wants to. you reiterate that even if he does do all the extra stuff, you wanna make sure he’s not just doing it to get in your pants. and oh how he’d go all out for you the next day, spending the day with you, going out to the park to spend time together, taking you out for meals, just doing everything he can to make you feel special and make you feel like he genuinely wants to be with you. it would make the eventually payoff that much sweeter once you know that he really does like you and made such an effort to win your affections

#hybrid!au #muuuuuuch to think about #this is gonna get me through the rest of my day at work #i'm sorry work is taking a lot out of me but this has me: thinking

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years ago

Text

Waking Up Alone

This is for my anon who requested something angsty and fluffy with El Phantasmo- hope you enjoy! The idea is partially inspired by the Cowboy Junkies song "Sun comes up, it's Tuesday morning". (I am the queen of sad lady songs, I swear.)

Pairing: El Phantasmo x OFC

Word count: 3.091

Content advisory: language, sexual references

Sun comes up, it’s Tuesday morning

Hits me straight in the eye

Guess you forgot to close the blind last night

Oh that’s right, I forgot, it was me

The morning sun feels like an assault on your eyes, punching its way through your delicate eyelids and right through into your nerves. Yeah, you definitely had a few too many drinks last night. Gin and tonic with the girls, which you hadn’t done in ages. It ended up with pitchers at the dive you’d been frequenting since you were too young to get into bars, the place that truly catered to everyone. Beer after liquor, never sicker; liquor before beer, in the clear. Why the hell had you switched from liquor to beer?

Doesn’t matter now, you think, wrestling yourself into a sitting position while protecting your eyes with a trembling hand. Wrestling yourself. You sigh a little as you consider the term that immediately springs to mind. You didn’t mention the breakup to the girls. It still feels too strange, too ephemeral. Were you ever really a couple anyway? You suppose that’s the crux of the problem. You didn’t know where you stood, so you’d estimated that you were somewhere it turned out you weren’t close to.

If Riley The Perfidious Bastard were around, he would have made sure to lower the Roman shade you’d fashioned out of an old curtain and some bamboo rods. He was always impressed at your ability to create homey touches from spare parts. Now that he’s not around, you realize how much you’d liked having your abilities praised.

If Riley were here, you’d also be waking up to the smell of coffee, the most wonderful thing in the world for someone in your condition. But there’s nothing. No rich, roasted scent, no happy, burbling noises from the machine in the kitchen. You have to get up and take care of it yourself, which you haven’t had to do in a long time. Goddammit.

You run one hand over the expanse of your king bed, the plump mattress extending almost all the way to the window. Sure, the thing took up most of the room but you didn’t care. The room was only going to be used for sleep anyway. Well, sleep and that other, delicious thing. That thing you missed so much. Well, you missed it the way that Riley had done it. If he was really gone, you were going to have a hell of a time finding someone who could make you want to spend all day in bed the way he had. You still hadn’t made your way back to the center of the bed. Somehow, your mind refused to accept that things were over. You were still making space for him.

With a dramatic effort that has no one to appreciate it, you heave yourself off the bed and make your way towards the kitchen. You’re halfway through the process of making coffee when you realize that you’re wearing one of his shirts, one of the ones with his logo emblazoned on it. You must have just reached for the first thing you could find when you got home and, of course, that would be something from the pile of shirts you’d made next to the bedroom door; shirts to be given to charity because you sure as hell didn’t want to look at them anymore. That pile had been sitting there for three weeks, the dried traces of angry tears still on every part of it, and you hadn’t gotten around to carrying everything to the donation bin less than a block away.

Coffee is more important than anything right now, so you focus on that. You also shove a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster oven. Bread and peanut butter will help ease the seething broth in your gut and allow you to concentrate on the day. Which would be even more useful if your day actually required concentration. Band practice had been pushed back to tomorrow because Kyle and Lily were off in the country visiting her parents. Sure, you could work on the guitar parts by yourself, but it’s not like there was anything to learn. You had a handful of gigs coming up in the next few weeks, mostly local, all focused on your last album. Practice was just a matter of making sure you all kept tight and maybe came up with some new ways to make the live experience a little different for people.

As autumn shifted closer to winter, it was always the quiet season. Students were running short on money, the weather became unpredictable, and going on the road became less and less lucrative the closer it got to the holidays. It was approaching that time of year when people started to nest rather than seek a mate. Or at least that’s how it was for most people. It just wasn’t that way for wrestlers dividing their time between North America and Japan. You cringe at how that thought makes you recall the fights you’d had in the last few days of your whatever the hell it was because apparently it wasn’t a relationship.

It’s a very different feeling than at the beginning of spring, when everything was starting to pick up, when you constantly felt excited about what the immediate future held, and when you’d agreed to go to a wrestling show because Nadia was doing makeup for it. You and Wendy had shown up already drunk and had taken advantage of Nadia’s invitation to come backstage.

You’d stolen beer from kraft services and watched Nadia attending to her work while you tried to distract her by making her laugh. You’d been surprisingly successful but she was such a pro that she had no problems. The women took the longest for her to do, but all the performers had to come in to make sure that they’re coloring and contouring was perfect for tv lighting and that was how you’d met him.

The two of you had locked eyes as soon as he came in the room and had remained that way as he settled into Nadia’s chair. You hadn’t been able to tear yourself away from those huge, shiny orbs with their saucy expression and despite your inebriated state, you could feel that stare lodging itself in your memory forever.

“This is El Phantasmo,” she giggled.

“He’s a what now?” you’d snorted in response, relishing the flare of indignation in his eyes.

“Are we letting just anyone back here now?” he snapped.

“These are my friends!” Nadia assured him, slurring her speech as she motioned to you and Wendy. You’d been feeding her the beer you’d purloined as well.

“Like I said. We’re letting just anyone in.”

At that, you’d given his seat a shove with your foot, despite the fact that Nadia had started to apply bronzer to his cheeks. He was left with a dark streak across one side of his face and nose, which had made you and Wendy crack up.

“Come on,” Nadia chided, “I need to make these guys look good.”

“Good luck with that,” you laughed.

The man you knew only as El Phantasmo flipped you off and you’d returned the gesture, swiveling on your seat a little so that your hips were thrust forward. It wasn’t that he was the most gorgeous thing you’d ever seen, far from it. But something about him just got to you. He had such an effect on you that even as you were mocking him, you let your body move and pose in ways that were intended to resonate with his basest masculine instincts.

You’d been captivated by the show, particularly by his display of athleticism, as well as his bratty defiance to what the audience wanted. You’d booed him with everything you had and you’d been so drawn to him that you’d had to restrain yourself from running to the ring and grabbing his pert ass right there.

Instead, you’d made your way backstage again and insinuated yourself into the group that was going for drinks. You insisted that Nadia come along because Wendy had headed home as soon as the show was over. You wanted someone to hang out with so that it wasn’t totally obvious what and who you were there for. It didn’t really matter, though, because everyone was so friendly and most were so drunk that they didn’t care that they had no idea who you were.

You’d kept an eye on him for a while and then approached the bar when you saw him going for a refill, elbowing your way in so that you were right next to him, bumping his shoulder hard as you got to the bar.

“You wanna buy me a drink?” you crooned.

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll buy you one.”

“Does that mean I have to hang out with you?”

“Yup. Besides, you know you want to.”

“I really don’t.”

He was laughing a little when you said it, and when you leaned over to scream your order at the bartender, ordering him a random drink since you hadn’t even bothered asking, he ran his hand down your back and gave your ass a quick slap. You’d smirked to yourself. You knew you’d seen the spark in his eyes.

“Riley,” he shouted right into your ear.

“Deaf now,” you shot back, pushing his drink at him. “You’re skinny for a wrestler.”

“Don’t need to bulk up when you’re as good as I am.”

“Anything else you’re good at?”

“Fucking women with big mouths until they can’t say anything but my name.”

The two of you had spent the night all over his apartment and, yeah, he’d lived up to his own hype. The sex had been outright feral, biting and clawing and animal-like noises until you were both too exhausted to move.

You thought about dropping a hint that you wanted to sleep there but since it was kind of obvious that this was a one-night thing, you’d waited a while then pulled your clothes back on to go. The two of you shared a surprisingly tender kiss at the door and when you made to leave, he’d looked surprised.

“You don’t want to exchange numbers or something?” He’d sounded legitimately surprised.

“Sure.”

You’d entered each other into your phones and you went home in a cab, reflecting that you did feel more of a connection than you’d realized at first.

Still, you held off calling him so as not to look desperate, but he’d called you a couple of days later. Not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to admit you were broke until your next royalty check cleared, you’d invited him over for dinner. The two of you had cooked some pasta together and drank a couple of bottles of wine and then tore into each other again, gradually making your way to your bed. Once again, it had been mind-blowing, but the real surprise came at the end of the night.

“Mind if I stay here?” he asked quietly.

You’d patted the pillows beside you and grinned. You’d drifted off thinking that, yes, this was something a little special and you’d woken up thinking the same thing.

Craving the crisp air on your reddened cheeks, you grab a sweater, jeans and boots and that wonderful alpaca poncho you’d found when you and Riley went to that farmer’s market. It was a weird thing to find in a place that was supposed to be all about food but it didn’t matter because it was soft and full of deep colours and even though it had been hotter than hell outside, you knew that you were going to get plenty of use from it once the weather turned colder. At the time, you thought that you’d still be going for walks and dinner and drinks with Riley.

As you get ready, your phone buzzes. Wendy sending you a message.

“Never let me do that again.”

You chuckle, remembering that however bad you got last night, she was the one who ended up trying to dance on the bar, refusing to acknowledge that she couldn’t climb up on it. You’ll all have a good laugh about it later but right now, you can’t deal with it. And the reason you can’t deal with it is because for a second, you’d hoped that it was him texting you.

Your body immediately knows where it wants to go, turning the first corner and heading for the hipster diner you eat from too often. They make a mean breakfast burrito but today, you limit yourself to one of those extra buttery croissants you love so much.

Joanne is working the counter, which is kind of remarkable since you remember running into her late into the night, but although her face is flushed the same as you, she’s smiling warmly at every customer.

“Hey there, lady,” she chuckles. “Still walking?”

“Barely. May I please have coffee and a croissant? And may I ask why Peter isn’t working this morning?”

She prepares your order, grinning. “Well he had some of the guys over to watch the game last night and it turns out he’s in worse shape than I am.”

“The bastard.”

“He was totally unconscious this morning. I hope he’s not dead because being a widow would suck.”

Everyone is in a relationship. Everyone you know is in love. It hurts a lot to think that one of those things is still true of you.

Things had gone to shit over an instagram post of all things. Him during a trip back to Japan, posing with a woman who looked straight out of a modelling agency. Immediately, you’d felt in your gut that something was off and although you hadn’t wanted to seem like you were scrutinizing his every movement, you’d been unable to hold back.

“Is something going on with you and that girl in the pictures with you?”

“Going on?” He’d seemed puzzled. “I mean, we hook up when I’m in Japan. No big deal.”

That’s where he had been wrong. It was a very big deal for you. The two of you hadn’t talked about your status but you realized that you had been assuming that because you’d been wrapped up in the romance of it all that he was too. Apparently not.

It had led to a huge fight, then another resentful exchange, and then he was back in Japan for a week. You hadn’t messaged him at all while he was gone. He didn’t contact you when he got back. You’d come home one day to find your spare set of keys in an envelope in your mailbox. No note, nothing. No request to get his set back from you. Giving someone a spare set of keys was supposed to mean something. How many women had keys to his place?

You ponder it glumly for the umpteenth time as you make your way back to the home that always feels strangely empty to you now. You’d been in the place for five years. He’d been coming around for five months and somehow it feels like he belonged there. You see a figure sitting on the front step of one of the buildings and for a second, you think it’s him, waiting for you to get home, like he used to before he had keys and could go in and surprise you with dinner, or flowers, or-

Then you realize that it actually is him, sitting on your step, drinking a beer and staring off into space. He doesn’t even look up when you come to a halt next to him.

“Dude, it’s nine in the morning. Are you starting early or finishing late?”

He shrugs without looking at you and after a long moment of silence, you sit down next to him. You tear the croissant in half and silently offer it to him but he shakes his head.

“For the love of god, eat something.”

He shakes his head again.

“Fine, become an alcoholic and drink yourself to death for all I care.” You bite into the delicious pastry, humming in satisfaction and finally he reaches over and takes the other half from you.

“Good boy.”

“Here’s the thing,” he says quietly. “I thought that since you’d never said anything, it meant that you had other guys in your life. All the guys I work with either lie to their wines and girlfriends or they just have these open things going on and I guess after a while it starts to seem like that’s the normal thing to do.”

“Well I never said that I was opposed to that. I never said that we couldn’t work something out. But you didn’t even give me the chance. You just carried on as if I didn’t even exist.”

“I didn’t, though.” For the first time, he turns to look at you. His eyes are red and swollen and something tells you that it isn’t from drinking. “I said that I’d hooked up with that girl and I had. In the past. Nothing happened when I was there last time.”

“Then why did you let me believe that something had?”

“I have no fucking idea. And that’s been killing me.”

With a heavy sigh, you reach out and place your hand on his. He immediately grabs hold.

“I think,” he says pensively, “that I felt nervous about telling you I was serious about you. I was nervous because I haven’t felt this serious about someone before. And when you got angry, I think I just flipped out and thought it meant that I was wrong.”

“Wrong for having feelings?”

“Wrong for thinking you did too.”

Your stomach flips and you tighten your hold on his hand.

“Well I did.”

He nods and stares off, his face twitching a little like he’s trying to keep from crying.

“I still do,” you tell him.

He turns and stares at you, big eyes surprised and hopeful.

“Really? Because I’m an asshole.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, “I know.”

“I miss you,” he whispers.

“Why don’t you come in and have a cup of coffee?”

“Only if I can make it,” he grins. “You always put too much in.”

“Asshole,” you grunt, standing up and pulling him with you.

As you unlock the door, he leans in and plants a warm kiss on your cheek.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

The two of you enter your flat, hand in hand again.

#el phatasmo imagine #el phantasmo fanfic #njpw fanfic #njpw imagine #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfiction #wayward wrestle writing

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wayward-pendragon · 5 years ago

Text

Iwaoi fic rec

So since quarantine started I’ve literally watched Haikyuu like three times oops. Honestly if u haven’t watched it yet, I highly recommend. Anyway, Iwaoi is one of my fav ships so I figured I’d make a fic rec so y’all will have some good reading to enjoy in this time of distance :))

All of these are complete and on ao3. I tend to like the longer or chaptered fics so most of these are like that but a few shorter one shot pieces are listed as well!

The PDA Jar by Poteto

Summary: “What is that thing for?”

“I’m glad you asked, captain. This… is the Public Display of Affection jar. Or PDA jar for short.”

“Now whenever you do something that may hurt our children’s innocence, you’ll have to put money in the jar as a punishment."

One of my first Iwaoi fics and its super sweet and fluffy. I love how Iwa and Oikawa come to realize their feelings it’s just really really cute.

Press '1' to Get a Call From Your Drunk Best Friend by UmbrellaMartialGod

Summary: Press '2' to hear him talk about you for thirty minutes, press '3' for him to compliment your ass, and press '4' for more options.

This is a short and sweet fic where Iwaizumi basically confesses his feelings for Oikawa when he’s drunk af. Super cute and funny.

to be first, to be best by kittebasu (chanyeol)

Summary: Hajime is apparently something of a masochist, and as he stares down at the tie-dyed AREA51 T-shirt in his hands, he thinks “I’m totally in love with this asshole, aren't I?”

This is hands down one of my fav Iwaoi fics ever. It feels so realistic to their relationship on the show and it so fluffy but also some angst ugh its just so cute. Basically Oikawa moves in w/ Iwa after he blows up his kitchen and things go from there.

When You Wish Upon a Star by emerald1963

Summary: Hajime has no idea how this situation is even possible, but he’s one hundred percent certain that it’s all Oikawa’s fault. Oikawa blames the aliens.

The Iwaoi body swap fic that this fandom needs, if not the one it deserves.

The Iwaoi body swap AU. Its absolutely adorable as they try and navigate living in each other’s bodies and how they come to understand each other’s feelings just ugh so good.

Kotov Syndrome by valiantarmor

Summary: Corruption is brewing in Seijou's police force. Oikawa Tooru, the captain of Special Investigations, is put onto a case where he cannot afford to fail.But despite his best efforts, not everything goes according to plan.

A standalone fic in the buddycop AU series; reading the others isn't necessary if you'd just like to read this one!

Iwaoi as cops oooo boy. Honestly funny and adorable as you get to see their relationship but also suspenseful and has a great plot. This is a long one too so be prepared to get hooked. The rest of the series is also freaking awesome so I highly recommend reading all of them.

i’m gonna be the man who comes back home to you by baekuugo (insxouts)

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime is a single father trying to raise a teenager (or three) on his own. He thinks he does pretty okay and things are going great until he meets the Oikawa Tooru (who isn't as great as people think he is, if you ask Iwaizumi) and his life takes a turn for the best worst.

I really love the single parent AU and the author does a really good job of balancing the family relationship and Iwaoi. I just really love this one and its so wholesome but if i remember correctly there’s some angst too, I highly recommend reading.

dyspnea/arrhythmia by carafin

Summary: In which Iwaizumi Hajime is a junior doctor suffering through his medical rotation, and Dr. Oikawa Tooru is his insufferable mentor. Medical AU.

This fic omgggg. Both Iwa and Oikawa are doctors and ofc oikawa is terrifyingly good. Basically you get so their relationship change as they get closer from working together and supporting each other. A really good read!!

you’re looking like you fell in love tonight by anyadisee

Summary: “So, let me see if I understood this correctly,” Hajime says, slow and careful like he’s still waiting for some kind of punchline.

“You want me to help Oikawa Tooru, a guy I barely know, because your boyfriend owes him a favor?”

“And you owe me a favor,” Hanamaki adds helpfully.

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“Sure it does.” Hanamaki’s smile widens. “Issei and I are practically the same person by now, anyway, so whatever favor you owe me, you also owe him. And by repaying me, you are repaying him, and in turn he is repaying Oikawa. Think of it as, like, the transitive property of equality. A equals B equals C. A equals C.”

“I know what the transitive property of equality is,” Hajime snaps.

[in which iwaizumi pretends to be oikawa's boyfriend.]

One of my fav Iwaoi fics holyyyyyyy. They start off as just acquaintances and then my weakness, the fake dating AU comes in and omggggg its soooo good. Less angst than many other fake dating fics which was a nice change of pace.

darlin’, your head’s not right by aruariandance

Summary: “Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

“I was thinking our Aoba johsai colors to go for more, you know, softer tones? Besides, I’ve always looked great in that sea foam green color. Oh, and I guess you look decent in it, too.” He grins, saccharine sweet, and Iwaizumi has never been so tempted to knock one of his perfect pearly white teeth right out of his stupid mouth."

or,

Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

This is such a sweet getting together fic omgg. Basically follows them living in Tokyo and going to uni and omgg its so freaking sweet plz read.

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle by kittebasu (chanyeol)

Summary: Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

Basically Oikawa has to give up volleyball and becomes a professor but Iwa continues volleyball and the two have drifted apart and their friendship has weakened. THIS IS SO GOOD. This is a long one but man did I fly through it, the author is fantastic!! If you love Iwaoi give this a read.

Well that’s it for this list but it’s just a few to get ya started! If y’all want more I would be happy to provide, I have way too many bookmarks on ao3. Let me know if you read of these or have anymore Iwaoi recs for me!! Happy reading and stay safe everyone :)))

#iwaoi #haikyuu!!#iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi x oikawa #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fic rec #haikyuu fic rec #iwaoi fic #iwaoi fic rec #anime

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years ago

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Could you do a fic where Jude gets amnesia and Cardan has to take care of her? (In elfhame and none of the people known what sickness she has lol). Please make it angsty and fluffy at the same time sjsjjsjs. Thank you so much if you do this! 💗

Ofc, love! I wrote this like, five times and just before I reached the end, I'd delete it so I'm quite proud for finishing at all.

Full Masterlist

cry me a river . . .

I wake up in an unfamiliar room, far too extravagant for my taste.

I grunt, momentarily blinded by the light seeping inside the chamber from the window before someone pulls it closed. The tall, lean figure comes over to sit at my bedside, touching the back of his hand on my forehead as if he is checking for fever. His hand feels warm against my skin and I almost whine when his touch disappears. Black dots swim across my vision and I have to blink a few times before I recognise the person sitting beside me.

Cardan Greenbriar.

If he has ever looked worse before, I cannot remember it.

Tear streaks run down his painted cheeks, glitter smeared all over. His coal black eyes, swollen and red, are fixed on me. I have the strangest feeling that I have seen this sight before, even though I have no recollection of seeing him so vulnerable. It is not something so small that I'd forget.

Did he find out I killed Valerian? That would explain the tears.

Perhaps he wants to finish what his friend started. It seems unlikely that he'd know but I can't think of another reason Cardan would abduct me and risk Madoc's wrath. It has to be the reason—

"Jude? How do you feel?" he asks.

He looks at me like I'm the most precious thing in his world. It scares me more than his hatred ever could.

"Stop," I choke out, stomach sinking more in fear with each passing second. "Tell me what—how am I here? If Madoc finds out you've been hiding me here, the consequences won't be pretty." I don't have to worry about him lying, because no lie can escape his tongue. I know faeries don't need the ability of lying to deceive someone.

Cardan frowns at me. "Liliver found you wounded across the clearing. You went to run an errand, got hurt and collapsed near the palace." I know what the words mean individually, but put together in one sentence, they don't make sense to me, which puts me further out of ease.

"Liliver?" The name tugs at my memory but I can't remember it.

He looks wildly concerned now. "The Bomb, Jude. She found you," he tells me before someone knocks on the door.

The Bomb.

Liliver is probably her true name; or part of it, at least. I wonder how Cardan knows it. I remember her as a part of Dain's court of shadows. The tiny, delicate girl slips inside the room when neither of them answer. Liliver holds a steaming bowl of soup in her hand, which elicits a series of rumbles from my empty stomach. I try to remember when I last ate and the moments from the previous night come crashing down on me: the horrible coronation, Locke's behaviour, her dance with Cardan and their peculiar conversation, then finally the butchering of almost all of the Greenbriar family.

I remembered running away with Cardan, hiding him in the court of shadows and the kiss we'd shared, my blade pressed against his throat. The implication that he liked me and he hated it. Surely, my present condition couldn't have something to do with it?

No, it couldn't have.

"How are you out of the office?" I turn to Liliver, who raises an eyebrow at me. "Who let him out? He is my prisoner, and you shouldn't have decided when he leaves." They exchange confused glances with each other.

Cardan furrows his eyebrows. "Leave? Jude, love, is this some kind of test?"

Balekin and Madoc planned against Dain and he is dead and the protection he'd given me could be over now. Cardan could glamour me into believing anything he wanted to. For all I know, he already has. I shove the panic down, resolved to find out more. If he had glamoured me, I'd be doing whatever he asked with blind devotion.

I ask the first of my questions. "Does Madoc know that I'm here?"

Both of them exchange worried looks. Liliver places a hand on my shoulder and says softly, "Jude, Madoc is in exile in the mortal world. He knows you're in the palace, of course, and we informed Vivienne you hurt yourself on a mission—she's probably on her way—so he also knows you're hurt, I think." My head swims. I can't wrap my head around all the information.

I blurt out the thing that shocks me most. "Madoc was exiled?!" Maybe everyone found out about his plot against the crown—

The doors to the bedroom are thrown open and there's commotion outside. I hear a voice I recognise well and Vivienne enters the bedroom, fuming and covered in sweat. She is panting, out of breath as she comes over to my side, discreetly pushing Cardan back. I am grateful for the familiarity but I cannot help but wonder if this is some elaborate game Cardan is playing, if it's really my elder sister or a product of faerie magic.

Vivi sits by my side, looking offended. "Do you have to face up all the dangers in the world alone, Jude?" Liliver observes me with a curious look. However, it is not her gaze that unnerves me but his. It sends shivers down my spine and I pretend I do not notice it. Vivienne is still talking to me, "honestly, would it kill you to share some load with your husband, Jude?"

I blink. "My husband? What—"

"Jude," The Bomb interrupts, "what is the last thing you remember?"

I am confused and scared and unsure if I should tell her. But she is from the court of shadows and I trust Vivienne. Cardan's presence is unsettling but there is no hint of cruelty and neither of them seem disturbed by his presence. So I tell them. "It was the coronation, Balekin—he killed Eldred and Dain is dead and Cardan and I escaped together and I took him prisoner." A blush rises to my cheeks when I realise what happened next, despite all my hatred for the youngest faerie prince—no, not the youngest. I recall my conversation with Oriana, Taryn's betrayal, Locke's lies and Madoc's plan. "Oak is the next in line for the throne, he's—Dain's child." No one looks surprised at the news, not even Vivi.

Cardan says with deliberate slowness, "Jude, you mean you don't remember anything after the day? Do you remember the arrangement we made?"

"What arrangement?" I don't know what he's talking about. It puts me at a disadvantage against him.

Cardan brings his hand close to me, as if he expects me to shatter. I do not shatter but I do flinch away from his touch. He looks like he wishes I'd struck him instead, blinking rapidly. For a moment, I swear those are tears in his eyes before they disappear.

"Jude," Vivienne says, breaking the silence, "I think there's something you should know."

⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷

I listen in horror and fascination and barely supressed surprise as Vivienne narrates the tale to me. Cardan sits beside her, pitching in with details she doesn't know whenever the situation demands it. I grow more and more certain that this is something strange I have dreamed up with every word my sister utters.

It makes the perfect sense—my plan against Balekin and Cardan's role in it.

I remember thinking along those lines when I went to sleep that night, the only question being how I could secure Oak's throne. To be his seneschal but have the High King of Elfhame under my command—the thought alone is enough to make me heady with power but it grows worse as Vivienne reaches the part where Cardan asks me to marry him. I can tell they both tiptoed around what happened in the Undersea, Vivienne because she does not know what happened in there but the uncertainty in Cardan's eyes leaves me with no doubt that he knows what happened there. Perhaps I told him.

It is surprising that I am able to read him so easily, and the ease with which he talks to me implies he is comfortable around me. I keep looking for some hint of cruelty and rage and anger but he is all love and adoration and concern.

Vivienne reaches the part where Cardan turns into a serpent and I'm convinced this is some prank of theirs. Even in faerie, that sounds ridiculous.

But they can't lie, so when my apparent husband says, "It was hell, Jude. I didn't talk about it but it haunted my dreams. You told me it haunted yours too."

"I did?" It doesn't sound like me. "What—how did you come back?"

He looks at me, and his eyes shine with love and sincerity. "You brought me back. Madoc offered you a golden bridle to control the serpent but you chose to end it's life, even though keeping it as your slave would have made you an unchallenged queen of faerie."

Why? The words don't leave my mouth but sensing the question, Liliver answers. "Because you loved him, Jude, you chose to free him. You chose his peace above power, not knowing if he'd come back—"

"—but then he did," I finish for her. "I slayed the serpent and he came back?"

They all nod. I am surprised to hear the details, that the Undersea came to our aid. But it was out of love for Cardan that Nicasia allied with us. They recollect the aftermath to me, Madoc's exile and some of the events after.

Vivienne leaves to fetch me some water and mortal soup for quick healing. Liliver excuses herself soon after. When I look at him, there are tears in Cardan's eyes again, flooding down his cheeks. He makes no effort to hide them now.

"Why are you crying?" I ask, my voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

He shakes his head at me. "You forgot all the good parts, Jude. Without the good parts, I'm just a monster who gave you every reason to hate me."

"I don't hate you." The truth behind those words surprises me.

Even after all I've been told, the fact that I fell in love with Cardan Greenbriar is the one that makes the most and the least sense both at once.

"I—I need to be alone." Cardan's face morphs into one of hurt, and I feel the need to soothe it: "It's just—I need time to wrap my head around this."

He nods, "Take all the time you need."

Then he lifts an unsure hand, reluctant, and wipes a tear away from my face. I hadn't realised I was crying until now. He turns to walk away, his tail curled around his calf.

I say, "I'm sorry I lost all our memories."

"It's okay. We'll make new ones," he promises in a firm tone. And for a brief moment, I see what he talked about.

I see myself in love with him, so in love that I was prepared to sacrifice ambition for a small chance to have him back. I see us living together, teasing and taunting and completely in love with each other, ruling Elfhame side by side. I feel his phantom touch on my body from the night I danced with him at the coronation ball, before everything started—before our story began.

And even when the moment passes, I realise I can love him still, all over again.

⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷ ⊶ ⊷

I know I say it after every fic but this one was hard so even if it's bad, I'm proud of it. I tried writing from the first person pov, so what do you guys prefer? This or the usual third person limited?

tags:

@courtofjurdan // @thesirenwashere // @nightbringer // @queenofgreenbriar // @jurdanhell // @sweetlyvillainous // @clockworkgraystairs // @blog-lady-vi // @the-dark-swan //@storiesandschemes // @fangirltrash74 // @augustintodarkness // @jurdan7 //@queen-of-glass // @aesthetics-11 // @mijaldraws // @hades-flame // @sensitivehighlord // @annejulianneh111 // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @doingmyrainbow // @curlyredqueen06 // @chaotic-fae-queen // @thewickedkings // @thesurielships //@df3ndyr // @clouds-and-peonies // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @thefolkofthefic // @st00pid231 // @iminsanenotobsessed

#the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the folk of the air #tfota #tfota fanfic #tfota fanfiction #jurdan #jude x cardan #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #holly black #jurdan angst #jurdan fluff #jurdannet #jurdan fanfiction #Jurdan fanfic

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kuiinncedes · 4 years ago

Note

PROMPT LIST? cheerio!tina & skank!quinn, angst #37, quinntina ofc

yes prompt list!! sorry this took so long, thanks sm for prompting sim <33

some pre-notes: first that wow this got long again 😂 2398 words (before probably some edits in the tumblr post editor) *oops i did it again*

1 2 3 these are my other three (very short) “installments” for this “verse” i guess 🤪 i wouldn’t say it’s required to read them tho i think everything is pretty understandable 🥰

this also got a little anti rachel lol 🥴 and anti schue but like yeah and i think that’s it 😗

Angst 37: “Lie to me. I don’t care what you say, just lie to me. Make me feel okay again.”

Glee club has been going well… all things considered.

Including the fact that Quinn’s crush on Tina only grows, that Rachel Berry still doesn’t seem to warm up to her and Kurt’s presence in the choir room, that the teacher really kind of sucks and apparently only Kurt and Quinn see it, that most of the other members are still wary around them - around Quinn.

But not Tina. Tina, who’s one of the most popular girls in school, not actually head of the Cheerios but probably the most well-liked, and there’s a reason. Tina is the first to welcome her and Kurt to the glee club after their audition, the first to make an effort to befriend them. She talks to Kurt about fashion, and Kurt is hesitant to bring down his facade but Quinn can tell how much he loves it, how much he’s missed talking about something that brings him so much joy. Even with his temporary and purposely limited wardrobe situation, he’s talked Quinn’s ear off about the things he wants to do and wear in New York City; she doesn’t understand much of it so she’s glad Tina does.

And she talks to Quinn. Tina actually talks to Quinn like… like she’s a person, just another student at this school, not Quinn Fabray, half of the most cold and closed-off duo that walks the halls, ex-most popular girl in school, Quinn Fabray with an unspeakable history, unspeakable in that Quinn will have consequences for those who speak about it.

It’s dramatic, she knows. But it’s part of her untouchable image at this piece of shit school with its horrible students.

Not Tina. Tina’s not horrible.

(Get a grip, Fabray.)

It feels like she and Kurt are on the edge of a precipice with glee club. Tina likes them, Blaine is nice enough to them (Kurt seems to like him, too), Rachel isn’t very welcoming, everyone else mostly ignores them. (Which is fine - preferable, really.)

They sway in the back, they sing, they do their part. And Quinn has missed singing, so it’s not all bad, she supposes.

But Quinn can feel the tension, the others’ hesitation whenever she and Kurt walk in to sit in the back, their unspoken thoughts, loud in their silence, their barely hidden glances.

She feels like she’ll tumble from the edge with one push.

One day, Tina sits beside Quinn and she can’t stop her jump of surprise. Tina just shoots her a small smile and moves her chair a bit further away, but Quinn finds herself wishing she would scoot the other way instead.

Tina keeps sitting by Quinn, and Quinn has no idea why.

She ignores the way her heart speeds up a little every time she makes eye contact with Tina, the way Kurt smirks knowingly at her but then returns to staring at the back of Blaine Anderson’s head, the way she can’t stop letting her eyes wander over to Tina every time Mr. Schuester starts talking about something she has no interest in (which she admits is very often).

Kurt had said glee would give her the chance to talk to Tina. And he was right - she’s made conversation with Tina multiple times (mostly initiated by Tina, though), and she would say they’re friends. Tina has said they’re friends and she definitely didn’t freak out to Kurt about it.

Kurt she called me her friend holy shit -

Inside voice, honey. Your gay is showing.

Shut - we’re literally outside. Let’s talk about you and Blaine.

Nope, fuck you, walking away now.

Kurt - wait! She - but she called me her friend - Kurt -

Besides Kurt, Tina is probably the person she’s closest with. Which still doesn’t say much - she’s not close to anyone besides Kurt…

But she wants to be, she thinks as she watches Tina perform an upbeat solo, a song she doesn’t recognize, but she watches her - how alive she looks, how good she sounds. It’s not like Quinn hasn’t heard her sing in the months since she’s joined, but if she had it her way, Tina would be the only one singing in this entire group. (She would insist on highlighting others, though, so Quinn adds herself and Kurt to that list. Not that they would ever get a solo.)

“All right, guys,” Mr. Schuester says. Kurt nudges Quinn with his elbow to get her to pay attention, and she shoots him a half-hearted glare.

“So that was everyone who signed up to audition for a solo at regionals,” he continues. “I’ll let you know who we’re featuring by tomorrow. So I’ll see you then!”

“Who do you think is gonna get it?” Kurt asks as they leave, walking out to the parking lot.

“Um…”

“Right, I forgot, you’re too busy staring at Tina to know what’s going on in glee.”

Quinn scoffs. “I know what’s going on in glee.”

Kurt gives her a questioning look.

“I do! Sure, I didn’t know about the auditions, but I know Rachel’s probably getting the solo, even though it should go to Tina.”

“Anyone could tell you that.”

Quinn shoves Kurt lightly, a smile spreading across her face as they get into his car. Quinn’s been spending more time at Kurt’s lately - Quinn’s parents don’t give a fuck about her - they did the bare minimum allowing her to stay when she was pregnant and they’ve used up all their good parenting cards, it seems. She’s infinitely grateful for Burt Hummel, because if the kids and some of the teachers at school are going to treat her and Kurt like shit, at least there’s someone in their corner.

Completely unsurprisingly, Mr. Schuester announces Rachel as the soloist for regionals the next day, after years of the same thing, from what Quinn has heard.

Surprisingly, Tina isn’t in the room. Although, Quinn thinks, she wouldn’t be either if she knew what the outcome was going to be. And everyone knew what the outcome was going to be.

But Mercedes pushes back against his decision anyway, Santana complains, Blaine and Brittany try to placate, Kurt watches Blaine, Rachel jabbers about her destiny as the New Directions soloist or something, Quinn sits and wonders about the empty chair next to her. (She also wonders what would be the easiest way to get Rachel to shut the fuck up.)

She’s not paying attention, letting everyone’s arguing fade into the background. She barely registers Rachel saying shrilly, “We’re supposed to be a family!”

“Not much of a family when you’re the only one who can have anything good!” Mercedes snaps.

“I bet you wouldn’t react like this if Kurt or Quinn got the solo! Like they would even deserve it! At least I belong here, they don’t even - ”

“Would you shut - ” Mercedes starts at the same time Santana yells back, “Quinn doesn’t need a family, she’s a mother!”

And she knows - Quinn knows - that Santana just does this, she says shit and hurts people and this is just that and it’s whatever but -

Suddenly Quinn is in sophomore year again, hearing the taunts of her classmates behind her back and to her face. Suddenly she’s in sophomore year again, somehow invisible in the halls but also the only person anyone was looking at, pointing at, laughing at. She’s in sophomore year again and teachers do nothing to help her, no one but Kurt bothers to notice anything but the fact that she’s pregnant. And they laugh, and they taunt, and they stare.

She’s a mother.

There it is. There’s the edge of the cliff that she has been fighting for balance on in this stupid club for months.

Like they would even deserve it.

They don’t belong here.

And Quinn’s falling.

“I need to go, meet you at your car,” she says roughly to Kurt, who it seems hasn’t been paying attention at all, more focused on committing to memory the details of Blaine Anderson from halfway across the room. Quinn storms out and the arguing continues behind her.

Quinn slams the door to the bathroom as she barges in and all at once, sees that Tina is here (Tina is here?), realizes that she herself is crying, trying not to make noise and she just throws her bag on the floor and sinks down against a wall, hands around her knees and head leaned back. It’s too fucking much.

“Quinn?” Tina asks gently, so gently and Quinn watches as Tina kneels down in front of her. “Are you okay?”

Quinn wipes at her face, laughing harshly. “Yeah. Fine.”

Tina looks at her, not moving but just watching her. Quinn thinks it must be uncomfortable for her to kneel on the bathroom floor in her Cheerios outfit. Quinn thinks that Tina shouldn’t care about her, she should just leave, save her knees from the cold tile.

She doesn’t leave.

After a moment, Tina says, “Hey, so, you don’t have to tell me anything… but I’m here if you need to.”

Quinn’s not actively crying anymore, grey smudges on her fingers where her makeup was wiped off. Her face probably looks like a nightmare, but she’s too exhausted to care. She leans her head back again and fixes her gaze just above Tina’s head, at the ceiling, the harsh bathroom lights piercing her vision through the tears in her eyes.

“I just - ” I guess I’m talking, she thinks, “Santana said something dumb about me being a mother and that’s what I heard sneered at me every day for months and even now still… and I’m not…”

Quinn trails off, looking at Tina again who nods, encouraging her to continue. She swallows and averts her gaze again.

“…and Rachel said something dumb about Kurt and I not belonging and not deserving it but she’s Rachel and I don’t care about the shit she says - I usually don’t. But her saying that - ” she scoffs. “Newsflash, Rachel, we don’t fucking belong anywhere.”

That was painfully made obvious sophomore year, with Quinn’s exit from the Cheerios, from popularity. It was obvious when no matter what, she couldn’t get it back, any of it. It was obvious when she and Kurt were the only ones to really notice each other and help each other. It was obvious when the only choice they had, the one they took, was becoming this and isolating themselves. It was obvious when the only chance they had was each other.

As if she needs someone else to tell her that, to rub it in.

It’s been building up, she realizes, this feeling, the hatred, the estrangement and isolation. She wonders if Kurt feels the same, how close he is to the edge, or if he’s even on a precipice like she is at all.

Quinn’s falling, she doesn’t know when or how it will end and she just wants -

“Lie to me,” she says to Tina, teeth clenched and voice tired. “I don’t care what you say, just lie to me. Make me feel okay again.”

Falling, falling, falling -

Quinn thinks bitterly that she should be used to it after her falls from popularity.

Tina takes her hands gently and squeezes them in reassurance. “I know this might just seem like words, and I’m not lying - you do belong. Both of you. You belong in glee club. You belong here.”

Quinn just swallows again, letting the words wash over her, and in the back of her mind, the part that’s not thinking about - everything, she marvels at the fact that Tina is holding her hands, and Tina’s skin is soft, and Tina’s words and actions feel genuine.

Falling… slowing.

Lie to me.

“We don’t belong. Everyone hates us,” Quinn mutters.

“I don’t,” Tina says, smiling a little. “I know we can be pretty difficult, the glee club, but we really don’t think that. Rachel might - if I’m being honest, I think she’s the one who doesn’t belong in glee club, for a multitude of reasons - but it really is supposed to be a safe, welcoming space. I’m really sorry we haven’t been able to do that for you.”

Quinn shrugs. “You have,” she admits softly.

Tina looks like she doesn’t know what to say to that. Quinn pushes herself up against the wall, a little awkwardly, hands still intertwined with Tina’s, who squeezes again. “I’ll talk to her,” Tina says. “Rachel. I’ve been getting fed up with her shit, anyway. I’ve been needing to talk to her.”

“Okay,” is all Quinn can think to say, quietly uttered, her voice a little choked. “You don’t have to - ”

“No, I do,” Tina says. “And I want to. Mr. Schue lets her get away with way too much.”

Quinn huffs a laugh and Tina grins slightly, then withdraws her hands and pulls them through her ponytail, suddenly looking almost nervous. Quinn drops her hands in her lap and plays with her rings. Now that Quinn’s calmed down, her proximity-to-Tina-Cohen-Chang-induced nerves are back in full force.

And maybe she isn’t falling anymore.

“Why weren’t you there today?” she asks after a moment.

Tina’s lips clench into a line. “Knew Rachel was getting the solo. I don’t know, I didn’t want to deal with that today, you know? Three years of the same shit, I’m just tired of it.”

Quinn hums in understanding. She can imagine.

“Are you okay? What do you say we… get out of here? Go somewhere?” Tina asks a little awkwardly, wincing slightly as she stands up and extends a hand for Quinn. She takes it and lets Tina pull her up.

“I’m actually… going home with Kurt, ” - but going somewhere with Tina - Kurt will understand - “actually, yeah, sure. I’ll let him know,” Quinn answers, not letting herself doubt the decision, pulling her phone from her pocket and quickly typing out a text and sending it to Kurt, who immediately responds.

omg did u actually talk and get a date with tina cohen chang

Quinn replies, fuck you, i’m leaving bye

are you okay?

yeah, fine i’ll talk to you later

ok have fun on your date ;)

yeah 🖕

Tina bounces a little and shoots her a smile when she puts her phone away. “Awesome. There’s this coffee shop that I think you’ll love - ”

“It’s not the Lima Bean, is it?”

Tina laughs. “Of course not. Barely anyone knows about this place, at least from school, so I really love it there.”

Tina grabs Quinn’s hand again and they head out of the school, Quinn ignoring how she can feel her pounding heartbeat against Tina’s skin. Hopefully Tina doesn’t notice.

*****

some notes for after 🤪

ok so i don’t really know why i used the “she’s a mother” line and idk if i’m just overthinking it but i’m not saying that scene was bad or anything ?? idk lol it was just on my mind i guess so i put it in slkdgfj (basically,, not related to the canon scene lol i just like adding canon lines 😗)

i think the point i was trying to make if any was that quinn doesn’t really have any family (in this au) so yeah it’s kind of a sensitive point

i did say this was very similar to my previous werewolf!quinn and vampire!tina fic but i’m okay with it now tbh,,, you know like it’s an alternate universe and they just help each other in all universes :’) yeah

i would love to continue this but i don’t have the best track record with that lol so we’ll see 😂

#quinntina #glee #glee fic #my ficsssss #prompt fills :))#no one: me while writing this (and the vampire werewolf one): kuinn kuinn kuinn kuinn kuinn #kuinn isn't even like my favorite friendship lmao why haven't i written kurtcedses dlkfsdjgkfj #i feel like other people who take forever to answer fic prompts do so bc they're working on it the entire time #whereas i just wrote this in the span of like an afternoon and evening and i'm posting it askldgjkhsdjf #i also keep thinking about how it's so fun to write quinntina ??? it was so hard to think of things for the two klaine prompts i got #and i ended up just going canon mostly #but with quinntina i'm just making shit up 😈 idk lol it's great #mostly thinking about that bc my two klaine fills were like 500 words or less ?? i don't remember #and this is my second 2k+ word fic for a quinntina fill aksdfjkgdjsf anyway #ugh i had stuff i wanted to say but i'm lazy so that's it lol #*screams and hits post* a;sldhgfkaldjsfgk #oh shit forgot to tag #asks #porcelain-nightbird #<3 #hell yeah i got one more prompt to do lol

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