#and ofc we ending up in bed and the food long forgotten so we order in😭

[buckys-estrella]

putting this in my ‘most relatable things anyone has ever said’ folder because yes! exactly bestie! the man is torturous 😩

aww I’m honored!! but tbh I didn’t think anyone reads what I put in the tags but it’s great to know that me speaking my truth is relatable!!🫡

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 2 | Be Careful with Clive, I Have Grown Attached to Him

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom and Molly are now married.  Surprise! These two talk about the logistics of Tom’s half-baked plan.  And Molly moves to London to face the firing squad, aka the paparazzi.  

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

–

After they signed the license along with the apostille, there had been dancing. That much Molly remembered. And drinking. Specifically drinking champagne. Tom danced with abandon, pulling Molly into the whirlwind of activity he created around him.

But now it was morning, and Molly woke up in a bed that wasn’t her own. She groaned as her head pounded, having forgotten that champagne and her have a love-hate relationship. Molly saw the faint outline of Tom asleep on the couch, his long body stretched out, still wearing his suit from last night. After glancing at the alarm clock, Molly fell back asleep.

Several hours, Molly woke up again and headed to the bathroom, not noticing the now opened curtains.

“Hey good lookin, Whatcha got cookin,” Tom’s voice twanged as he stepped out of the shower. His head pounded a bit, but not the worst hangover he had.

“AHHH!!!” Molly screamed as she stepped into the bathroom.

They both froze, which was more embarrassing for Tom, as at least Molly was still wearing her dress from last night.

“You’re naked.” Molly blinked, her head darting around the room until she focused on an interesting corner of the room.

Tom chuckled, grabbing a towel and wrapping it loosely around his waist. “I don’t normally shower in my clothes. You can look back now.”

She slowly turned back around. “Sorry.” She shuffled her feet. “I should have knocked.”

“It’s quite alright.” He moved towards the door. “Shower is yours and we should talk things over.”

Molly nodded. “We should.”

While Molly showered, Tom dressed in the other room. After finding a clean t-shirt for Molly to wear over her dress until she could change, he called the airlines and changed his single ticket for that morning to a later flight for two, fishing Molly’s ID out of her wallet.

“Thanks for the shirt.” she stepped out.

“It looks good on you.” Tom gestured to the sofa. “Sit. Would you like some breakfast?” Her stomach growled. They both laughed. “That would be a yes.” Tom shoved the room service menu. “Order what you like.”

She selected an egg white frittata while Tom got the pancakes. Tom put in the order and returned his attention to Molly.

“So let’s talk about how this will work.” Tom shifted in his seat.

“An excellent idea. You mentioned living together in London. When do we leave?”

“This afternoon.”

Molly coughed. “That quick?”

“I’m afraid so.” Tom’s hands fidgeted in his lap. She noticed he was still wearing the spider ring. “I have work obligations back home and in order for it to be believable you would need to live with me.”

“Naturally.” Molly slapped her thighs. “So after breakfast, I can head back to my apartment, pack up what little I have, say goodbye to my roommate, and change into appropriate clothing. And you need to get us some proper rings.” She waved her hot pink ring in the air. “Unless of course you intend for your bride to wear a ring from the top of a cupcake.”

“Only if I get to keep my ring. I’ve grown quite attached to Clive.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You named the spider?”

“Yes.” There was a knock on the door. “That will be the food. Allow me.” He disappeared and returned shortly with a rolling table, ladened with food. Tom poured a cup of coffee and offered one to Molly.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“I can have them bring up a teapot.”

“I’m pretty sure there are some complimentary ones in the room. Now,” She cut into her food and took a bite. “how will everything else work? Living with you, your life, the paparazzi? That is the whole point of this charade.”

“You do get down to business. So yes, I would expect you to live in my home. In a separate bedroom, I can set up another room as an office for you. We would need to attend events together and generally appear as a loving couple on the outside.”

“And my debts? That is part of the deal, right?”

“Right,” Tom gazed over at her while eating his pancakes. “I would assume the payments while we are together, and after the divorce is final, I would pay off any balance. I would also take care of your daily expenses while we are married. You are welcome to work if you want, but I will give you spending money.”

“So I would be a trophy wife?” Her brown eyes glinted.

Tom waved his hands in front of him. “Not that is not what I meant… I…”

“I am kidding, Tom. If you prefer, I can not work. I don’t mind. Give me some time to figure things out.” A thought came to her. “What about…” Molly searched for the words. “… other needs? Or if you wish to engage in a romantic relationship?” Her cheeks blushed as the words fell out of her mouth.

Tom blushed as well. “I have great self-control and I think if either of us get to that point, we can discuss it. I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“And I don’t want you to be trapped either. I guess that is as good of an answer I could expect. Anything you want to ask me?”

Tom stared at Molly. The air hung heavy. “Do you regret saying yes?”

“No. Do you regret asking?”

“No.”

Molly downed the rest of her juice. “Well then, it is all settled. I am going to take off to pack. And you have some shopping to do. My ring size is a 7.”

Tom finished up the last bite of pancakes. “Right. We need to leave here by 3 to make it to the airport.”

“I shouldn’t be more than a few hours. Do you have a key to the room I could borrow?”

Tom fished one out of his discarded jacket’s pocket. “Here I will have the front desk make me another one.”

She tapped the key against her nails. “Thanks, Tom. For the help and for being a decent guy.”

“I should be thanking you.”

“You already have.” She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

-

Tom headed downstairs, asked the front desk for a new key to the room, and also inquired where the nearest jewelry store might be. The front clerk handed him a key and directed him to a small collection of luxury stores in the hotel. He found Tiffanys and purchased a classic platinum solitaire engagement ring and plain platinum band for Molly and a yellow gold band for himself.

Molly wasn’t back when he returned, so he set about packing up for the flight. His phone buzzed. Luke.

It appears you had a good time in Vegas. The papers say you are drowning your sorrows. Looks like the story is here to stay. Call me when you wake up from your nap at home.

Tom typed back.

I did have a good time. I have a feeling the papers will soon find another story soon. Still in Vegas, taking a later flight. Talk to you soon.

His phone rang. He clicked it off, seeing it was Luke. Rather to get all the yelling done in person. The door opened and Molly came in, dragging a suitcase behind.

“Sorry! My roommate had questions.”

“So does my publicist.”

Tom took in Molly for the first time, really. Outside of the light of a casino floor. And not in a wedding dress purchased for fifty dollars on the way to the chapel. She wore faded jeans, a pair of beat up black Converse and a boxy white tee tucked in. A large black cardigan tucked under her arm. Dark hair in a bun. Quite lovely, if Tom told the truth.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” Her brows knitted together.

“Not yet.” Tom tucked his phone into his jean pocket. “Here.” He pulled out the little blue bag.

Molly gasped. “I thought you would go buy some costume jewelry. This is too much.”

“Nonsense. This marriage may be fake, but the jewelry will be real.” Tom opened up the boxes. “May I do the honors?”

Molly held out her hand, and Tom slipped off the plastic ring before replacing it with the wedding set. “Much better. And yours?”

Tom slapped the box into her hand. “Be careful with Clive.” Molly pursed her lips as she pulled off the spider ring and replaced it with the gold band, putting the plastic ring in the Tiffanys box. “Here you go. Clive’s new home.”

Tom tucked the box into his luggage. “Ready to go?”

Molly rocked back on her heels. “Yep.”

Tom held out his arm. “Let’s go home, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

-

The flight back was uneventful, Molly and Tom dozed off, leaning against each other for support. Molly woke up first. She stared down at her rings. This was not how she expected this weekend going. Molly thought she would scrap together enough tips to make an extra payment on her credit card. Not flying to London with a Tiffany diamond ring on her finger and a famous actor as her husband.

“Life does throw you curveballs from time to time.”

“What was that, darling?” Tom muttered, stretching in his seat.

“Just commenting on the craziness of all of this to myself.” She held out her hand again. Tom laced his fingers with hers.

“I have done the same thing myself. Now when we land, there will probably be paparazzi around. Are you up for getting this whole thing off and running?”

Molly perked up. “What do I need to do?”

-

Tom tightly gripped Molly’s hand throughout the concourse and baggage claim. They eyed the doors.

“Ready?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

“I promise to be gentle.” Tom squeezed back, smiling.

As they stepped through the doors, Tom flashed a killer smile and Molly did as well, giggling as his arm wrapped around her waist. He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. Molly melted against him, making sure her rings were visible as she cupped his cheek. She was right, Tom was an excellent kisser. After making sure any photographers had plenty of time to snap a pic, they parted.

“Think they got my good side?” Molly giggled.

“Do you have a bad side?” Tom asked.

“Just wait and see. Now take me home, darling!” She threw her arm over her eyes dramatically.

“Drama queen.” Tom pinched her side.

-

Tom’s home was cozy and clean. Definitely a bachelor’s home, as evidenced by the empty fridge except for a few bottles of beer and some questionable brown sauce.

“I can go shopping later.” Tom dragged a toe along the kitchen floor.

“I can go shopping later.” She reached up and smacked his face playfully. “What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t feed my husband?”

“Fair point. I will call the bank tomorrow and get a card in your name. Just run any big purchases past me first. And we will need to get your name changed, passport, etc. I can have someone help you.” Tom prattled on.

“Why don’t you show me the rest of the place first?”

Tom held out his arm. “This way.”

Tom’s book collection was impressive along with his collection of movies.

“I clear some space if you need it.”

“I only packed clothes. My roommate is selling the rest, including my car and wiring me the money.”

“Oh.” Tom’s face fell. “Let me show you the bedrooms.”

He showed you a small guest room. “This could be an office for you and next door is a bigger bedroom for you.” Tom hustled along the hallway to open the next door. “Here.”

It was a bigger room with a queen bed and a wardrobe. Spare and clearly used for company.

“It will do just fine. And the bathroom is across the hall which is nice. Where’s your room?”

Tom made his way to the end of the hall and opened the door to his room, decorated in tones of grey and navy. A large king sized bed taking up most of the room along with a dresser. A bathroom en suite and a small closet completed the space.

“Very nice. Do you mind if I steal the color palette to decorate my room?”

“Please do. I never got around to decorate it. My sisters and mother are the only ones who stay in there.”

Molly paled a bit. She hadn’t thought about Tom’s family. “I supposed I will meet them soon.”

“I supposed so. It would be odd for my wife not to meet them. I hadn’t thought about it.”

Molly rocked back and forth. “Now why don’t I go shopping and you unpack and relax?”

“I would feel better if I came with you. You are in a different country, a strange city. And what if you have problems with the card?”

“Then let’s go and you can point out some of your favorite foods.”

“It’s a deal.”

-

“When I said pick out your favorite foods, I didn’t expect it to be only sweets. Did I marry a seven-year-old?”

“I’m 35, thank you. and I enjoy those sweets.”

“You eat like a college frat boy.”

“Guilty.”

“That is definitely changing now that I am around. You can’t continue to eat like that. There are things called vegetables.”

Tom snapped his fingers. “I’ve heard of those.”

“Get out of here!” Molly swatted at him. “I am certain you have things to attend to, and I need to familiarize myself with the kitchen.”

“Are you kicking me out of my kitchen?”

“Our kitchen. And yes.” Molly smirked.

“I yield! I yield. I’ll be in my study if you need me.” Tom walked out of the kitchen and towards his study.

He spied his phone sitting on the desk, still off from the flight. By now, any pictures should have been posted somewhere. Tom collapsed into his desk chair and clicked the phone on. While he waited for it to start up, he could overhear Molly puttering about in the kitchen, muttering to herself as she put away the groceries.

Buzz. Ten messages and eleven missed calls. He didn’t bother to listen to them and instead dialed Luke.

“Luke, I’m back in town. Thought I wou—” Tom started in as soon as Luke picked up.

“I WASN’T FUCKING SERIOUS WHEN I SAID TO GET MARRIED??! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?!”

Tom pulled the phone away from his ear. “No, I haven’t. But I am married. To a wonderful girl. Her name is Molly. Molly Bishop. You should meet her, Luke.”

“YOU ARE FUCKING RIGHT I’LL MEET HER. AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! SHE CAN HELP IDENTIFY YOUR BODY, THOMAS!” Luke continued to scream on the phone.

“Can you dial back the volume, Luke? I would like to preserve my hearing. Is there something wrong with marrying the woman I love?”

Luke cleared his throat. Tom understood Luke was doing his best to collect himself. “Apologies. There is nothing wrong with marrying the woman you love, Tom. Nothing at all. Except I don’t think you love this woman, since until a few weeks ago you were in love with—”

“Don’t say her name, it will ruin my marital bliss. I’m a hopeless romantic, Luke.”

“Hopeless, yes. Romantic, the jury is still out. And your fans don’t count, they are blinded by you. But I see the truth.”

“Which is?”

“You are not as smart as you think you are.”

“Did any of the articles mention her?” Tom inquired, spinning his wedding band on his finger.

“No.”

“Then I am exactly as smart as I think I am.”

There was a clatter from the kitchen.

“Tom!” Molly called out. “I need your help.”

“Got to go, Luke. My wife needs my help.” Tom emphasized the word “wife.”

“This isn’t over, Tom.”

“It never is. Bye.”

More clattering and another cry. “Tom!”

Tom rushed into the kitchen to find Molly perched on top of the kitchen counter, reaching high into a cabinet.

“Why is everything so high in here?”

Tom chuckled and reached around her, pressing his torso against her back. Molly jumped for a moment at the touch.

“I’m not used to sharing my space. I’m six two, I put things where I can reach them. What are you grabbing?”

“The roasting pan.”

Tom pulled it down and placed it on the counter. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it.

“Thank you. Well, I am five six, so unless you want me climbing counters for the next year, we need to rearrange some things.”

“But you’re so cute climbing around like a little monkey.”

Molly frowned. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? If so, then try again.”

Tom opened his mouth and closed it. “I’ll pull things down after dinner.”

“Thank you.” She rubbed his arm. “Now to try my hand at a roast dinner. Did you get stuff done?”

His phone buzzed again.

“I called my publicist. The pictures posted.” Tom pulled out his phone to shut it off.

“Oh good. So I take it, I had the desired effect.” Molly crunched on a carrot and offered one to Tom, who wrinkled his nose.

The two of you. My office 8 a.m. tomorrow. No excuses. I want to meet the blushing bride.

Tom frowned at the screen.

“It would appear so. I suggest you go to bed early because you are meeting Luke, my publicist tomorrow.”

Molly’s mouth fell open. “Should I be worried?”

Tom smiled at her. “No, I should be.”

[atsumiyass]

Bakusquad during christmas

here’s a lil something for christmas since i’m feelin in the spirit - venus

warnings: fluff, platonic relationships

Katsuki Bakugou

Bakugou would definitely take on cooking duty.

We all know mans can cook BOMB ASS FOOD.

He literally wouldn't let anyone else take on the job so...

But I feel like if you tried to help out he wouldn’t care as much

Bc he has a soft spot for you, ofc.

Also bc he knows you can cook pretty good as well.

So you both spend the afternoon cooking together.

Which turned out to be fun...

Apart from when you almost burned down the whole dorm building but we dont talk about that.

Once you finished putting away the food for tomorrow, you had the amazing idea of watching a Christmas movie to get into the spirit and relax after all your hard work.

it took some begging, but he finally agreed.

as long as you watched whatever he wanted, of course

but i mean who were you to say no to Bakugou

so

you made your way to his dorm since he had a tv and you didn’t

lucky prick

he put the disc in and you both settled on the wall where his bed was, a few feet apart from each other

but you’re y/n, and you’re in desperate need of attention

and it was cold

and Bakugou just happened to be a couple feet away

so the only logical option would be to snuggle up next to him

it took some courage but when you did, he surprisingly didn’t mind

he actually put his arm around you.

you took the chance and snuggled in closer.

soft Bakugou was a once in a lifetime experience, you had to take advantage of it.

especially since he would never act like this in front of the others

“so do you think they’ll like the food?” you asked, looking up at him.

“hell yeah they will, we made it didn’t we?” He replied, not looking away from the screen.

you smiled and turned back to the movie.

This Christmas was gonna be one to remember, thats for sure.

Eijirou Kirishima

This baby is on christmas tree duty

he asked you to tag along tho, for support

and bc he has a lil crush on you but you didn’t hear it from me (;

you both get to the common area and take a look at the empty Christmas tree

its huge.

like,

as tall as the ceiling huge.

you might have to call Uraraka for this one

you looked at each other like

“this is gonna take awhile.”

so you both get to work, first stringing the multi-colored lights around the tree

luckily they didn’t get all tangled up in the tree, so it didn’t take that long

(you actually ended up calling Uraraka to help you since it was so high up)

Once that was done, you continued on with the tinsel.

which ended up in it all getting tangled from you both fooling around.

in the trash it goes.

Next was the ornaments.

They varied from red, to white, to even hero themed ones.

you started from the bottom this time, not wanting to get Uraraka again

you decided to turn on some christmas music to set the mood since you both were just sitting in awkward silence for a hot minute

i hc that kiri get shy around his crush pls

so once you got the perfect spotify playlist going you went back to working on the tree, humming along to the song.

little did you know Kirishima was on the other side of the tree, having an internal conflict.

does he talk to you? does he make a joke? does he not say anything? does he-

“hey do we have anymore red ones?” he heard your voice, making him breathe a sigh of relief.

“yeah here..” he said going to grab one.

but ofc you didn’t hear him

so you also went to go grab one

and just like those cheesy romance movies

your hand landed on top of his.

you both looked up at each other and quickly pulled your hands back.

You felt your face heat up as you nervously laughed and picked up the ornament, making your way back to your side of the tree.

my shy, oblivious babies tsk tsk 

Soon enough you finished all the ornaments and stood back to observe your work.

it honestly looked really good.

“wow Eji, it looks great dontcha think?” you asked, turning towards him.

“Yeah we did a super good job! great work y/n!” He said, giving you his signature sharky smile along with a thumbs up

your heart: doki doki

Suddenly a light bulb went off in your head

you had forgotten the star!!!

the most important part!!!!!

wtf y/n smh do better

you dug around in the christmas box for the star, which you soon found.

“hey could you go get Ochaco again? we gotta put up the star.” You called out to him.

“I think she’s out training with the other girls, i’m sure we can handle it.” he said confidently.

you guys couldn’t handle it.

somehow you ended up on top of him after falling off his shoulders.

could this get anymore cliché srsly.

luckily the star hadn't broke, so with the help of Ochaco this time, you got it up all nice and snug.

You plugged in the cords and the tree lit up, the rainbow lights and golden star illuminating the room.

your eyes sparkled in admiration, as the whole class gawked at you and Kirishimas work.

“You’re such a good team guys!” Yaoyorozu said, clapping her hands together with a smile.

and that, you were.

Denki Kaminari

Denki our electric boy would be on presents duty.

how did you end up tagging along with him? 

you offered to go, like the kind person you are.

you actually wanted to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t accidently break something or pick up the wrong presents.

either way

you both arrived at the first store to pick up Mr. Aizawas present, since the whole class chipped in to get him something as a thank you.

you got to the counter and gave the clerk the receipt, and they went to the back to get the order.

what you didn’t know was that while you were there, Kaminari was wondering around the store touching everything he possibly could.

it was only a matter of time before he broke something

you soon realize he isn’t behind you so you go to look for him since the clerk is still in the back

“Kaminari? Where did you go?” You call out to him, but hear no response.

You continue in the store, searching every rack to see if he was hiding inside (yes Denki is childish what about it)

you do end up finding him though

just, not in the way you would imagine.

“Denki what happened?” You asked, speed walking over to a stupefied Kaminari

you saw two batteries on the ground and connected the dots.

of course.

you sighed, picking up the batteries and putting them back on the shelf.

“c’mon you big oaf, lets get back.” you sighed again, guiding Kaminari back to the front

once you got back to the counter the clerk had already come back, present in hand.

they looked at you like “da fawk are these bitches doing”

you grabbed the bag from the counter, thanked the clerk, and left. 

(yes you paid smh you aint no robber)

Hand in hand with Kaminari you made it back to the dorms in one piece thankfully and by that time he had gotten back to a somewhat normal state

as normal as he can be

When the rest of the class asked what happened, you told them:

“just Kaminari, being Kaminari.”

Mina Ashido

you and Mina would def go ugly sweater shopping together.

both of you would force the guys (Bakugou, Kaminari, Kirishima, Sero) to wear them all throughout the Christmas party.

so you headed over to the nearest mall to pick some out for everyone, since (in Minas words) you both have “exquisite taste in fashion”.

which you dont, but they dont know that.

Once you entered the shop you both sprinted and got yelled at to the sweaters section and started to look through the racks.

“Ouu this one just screams Bakugou!” she exclaimed, pulling one from the rack.

It was red, covered in stars, ornaments, and ugly santas with orange words that read ‘Merry Christmas’ across the sweater in cursive.

yeah he would hate it, but then again thats the whole point.

“definitely, lets get it.”

After about an hour or so of picking out unique (ugly asf) sweaters for each of the boys, you paid and left the store.

The day of the party soon rolled around and you got your sweaters on, heading over to the boys’ dorms to give them theirs.

Bakugou: Hell no!

Y/n: pretty pleaseee *puppy dog eyes*

Bakugou: .....fine.

Kirishima: aw yeah cool! I'm gonna look super manly in this!

Sero: I have a bad feeling about this, eh whatever.

Kaminari: we’re gonna look so stupid in these hahaha!

Once they all came out in their sweaters, you and Mina had a whole ass FIT OF LAUGHER 

like I'm talking a good 10 minutes on the floor.

After getting yelled at by Bakugou, you headed over to everyone else.

but not before fist bumping Mina in victory.

“We’re so doing this next year.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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or our general masterlist: here

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {11}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy

Words: 7k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: The musical notes emoji 🎶 signifies a song being sung. They are the lyrics.

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘  

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 

🎶 “But I don't wanna give up. Baby, I just want you to get up. Lately, I've been a little fed up. Wish you would just focus on—me. Can you focus on me? Baby, can you focus on me?”

 The sounds of H.E.R filled the semi-rustic kitchen as you moved around it, checking on the multiple things you were making. Her album was one of your go-to things for mellowing out. You sang along and got lost vocalizing along with her. It didn’t take long for you to forget what time it was and that you weren’t exactly alone in the house. As the song ended and the next came on, you held your hands in the air, already feeling the opening of Girls Need Love Too.

  🎶 “Honestly, I'm tryna stay focused. You must think I've got to be joking when I say. I don't think I can wait. I just need it now. Better swing my way.”

 The lyrics were hitting you as right as gospel right about now. Pulling open the oven, you checked on the treats inside, making sure they were rising just the way they needed to. After you were pleased with their progress, you checked your pots on the stove one more time, then went back to the pitcher you were mixing your famous mimosas. That was when DSVN came on, and the hypnotizing sound of the lyrics with the beat made your mind drift back to Henry, especially when the hook came on. It sounded like it was made just for you in this situation.

 For the next few minutes, you focused on trying not to burn breakfast rather than dancing or singing. That was until Santana came on, and you couldn’t help but bust out your best salsa moves to Carlos’ electric guitar and Latin flare. The song was so catchy that you quickly got carried away winding your hips and doing your best Shakira impersonation. If she were standing in front of you, you thought she’d be proud because you gave it everything you had. Before you knew it, the song was almost over, and you’d forgotten about being quiet, and were now singing along to the song as you danced around the kitchen.

 “Someone woke up on the right side of the bed.”

Your scream was loud, so loud it bounced off the walls of the room. Your head nearly snapped off your neck from the force of which you spun around.

 “Oh my god!”

 Henry stood there pinching his lips, trying to stop himself from laughing at you.

 “You scared me half to death.”

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I um—I smelled food and heard music, and here you are,” Henry explained.

 “Oh no, no. How long were you standing there?”

 Another smile spread across his face, and it was all you needed to know he’d probably seen the whole thing. Embarrassment filled you.

 “Oh god, no.”

 “Don’t be embarrassed. You can dance and sing. I enjoyed the show.”

 You snorted while shaking your head, trying to overcome your embarrassment. When you met his eyes again, you still saw the amusement there.

 “Good morning,” you began.

 “Good morning. What’s—what’s going on?”

 He motioned to the organized chaos around you.

 “Oh, breakfast.”

 “Did you order?”

 “Nope. One hundred percent handmade but these hands,” you replied, holding up your hands and flexing your fingers for emphasis.

 Henry’s eyebrows shot up as he approached the kitchen island.

 “You cook.”

 Approaching the same island on the opposite side, you nodded. “I cook and bake and mix and clean, iron, and do laundry.”

 Henry snorted and nodded, clearly amused by the sarcasm in your voice.

 “Cute.”

 You smiled and leaned against it, resting your elbows on the wooden island keeping your eyes on him.

 “I know I don’t look it, but they do say never judge a book by its cover,” you replied.

 Henry nodded before he spoke. “For the record, I’ve never judged you.”

 You studied him for several moments before your eyes drifted over him, taking in his tan linen pants and cream shirt. He looked good, and you almost got lost in that before you snapped out of it. Clearing your throat, you pushed off the island and looked around.

 “I’m almost done.”

 “What’s for breakfast, chef Taylor?”

 You smiled, “I’m glad you asked Mr. Cavill. We have lavender vanilla  bean beignets, scrambled eggs, sausages, and of course mimosas.”

 Henry’s eyebrows again shot up. “Wow. How long have you been up?”

 Turning from him, you dropped a few mint leaves into the pitcher you’d just mixed. “Well, I actually haven’t slept yet.”

 “So you’ve been up all night?”

 “Yep.”

 Sliding to the right, you turned off the oven and took out the beignets to place them on the stove to cool.

 “Why? Is everything all right?”

 “Yeah. I’ll be fine. I’m a night—insomniac.”

 He was going to find out one way or another throughout this vacation anyway, you reasoned with yourself.

 “Really?”

 He sounded hesitant but also surprised.

 “Yeah, most of the time.”

 You used the time he stood there in a state of shock to finish up what you were doing before turning back to him.

 “Are you going to pass out later or soon?”

 “Nope. Come on. All done. Can you grab those two?”

 You nodded your head to the two platters on the stove as you took the others walking out of the kitchen to the outdoor dining table he’d shown you yesterday. Once he saw the table that had two other platters and set place settings, he exclaimed.

“Wow.”

 “I know, but I like to cook.”

 “Everything smells incredible,” Henry complimented as he stood at one of the Rattan chairs waiting for you to sit first.

 Once you sat down, you motioned for him to begin. “Dig in.”

 A few minutes passed with the two of you loading your plates with various items. Once you were finished, you took up the pitcher and poured drinks for you both. When he brought one of your beignets to his mouth, you paused and watched him sink his teeth into it. As soon as he did, he moaned so loud it filled the space and drifted off.

 “Holy--,” he began but never finished because he took several more bites finishing his first one. Once he’d swallowed and reached for another, he continued. “How did you learn to make beignets?”

 “Well, it began with my Gramaw, but eventually, it was experimenting.”

 He bit into another and rolled his eyes into the back of his head, and groaned. “These are heaven.”

 “I’m glad you like them.”

 Covering his food-filled mouth, he spoke, “Love them, get it correct.”

 You snorted and nodded as you began to eat. The view before you caught your eye once again, and getting lost was easy. The morning was beautiful, warm, and calm, with a gentle breeze that carried the salt in the air from the nearby sea. You didn’t know who wouldn’t love waking up to this every day. It was then you realized how badly you’d needed a vacation after all.

 “You stare out a lot.”

 Henry’s voice brought your eyes back to him to find his already on you.

 “I’m sorry,” you began with a soft smile. “Another thing about me, I do that—a lot.”

 “What’re you thinking about?”

 You looked out again and nudged your head to the view. “How incredible this view is and that I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve taken a vacation,” you confessed.

 “Tell me about it. I was literally running on fumes. I have no idea how I made it this far,” Henry said.

 You continued to eat and fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

 “Was there anything particular you wanted to do today?”

 “Like what?”

 “There’s so much to do. I know a good spa. There’s diving, boat tours of this incredible lagoon, wine tasting, touring, driving along cote d'Azur. You name it, and it can be done,” he listed off.

 “A lot of choices.”

 You brought your legs up and hugged them to your body as you continued to eat while thinking about your options.

 “What do you feel like doing?”

 “I don’t mind either way,” Henry quickly responded.

 That didn’t help you one bit, but you made the decision all the same. “Nothing screams vacation like a bikini, and a beach, so let’s live it up.”

 He smiled as he nodded. “All right. We have a plan then,” he said, clapping his hands.

 The rest of breakfast was comfortable and peaceful. Neither of you seemed to mind that conversation fell to the wayside because you were both lost in the food and scenery before you. After breakfast, you and Henry managed to do the dishes and clean up the kitchen together as you endured his teasing on the multitude of things you’d used to cook. As you cleaned, you caught his eyes on your body a few times, but he kept his physical distance for the most part. After you separated to get yourselves ready for your day in the sun.

 You spent longer than necessary trying to decide on the right bikini. You didn’t know if you should go demure princess or buxom goddess. You were moving and making decisions by reading him. You told yourself the night before that you’d go at his pace and take your cues from him. If he initiated touching, you’d reciprocate. If he kissed you, you’d kiss him back. If he stayed away, you would too. You didn’t want to do the wrong thing or anything, especially since you didn’t know where you stood with him. Letting your self-doubt win, you chose the middle ground on the bikini.

 Thirty minutes later, you stepped outside the villa to find Henry waiting patiently at a white Fiat convertible.  

 “Wow. Is this yours?”

 “Yep.”

 “I don’t know why I’m surprised. We have established that you’re a car man.”

 He smiled as his eyes trailed over you. “Wow. The short shorts come out, huh.”

 You looked over yourself, then back to him. “This is short? Ha, just you wait. I have even shorter.”

 “I bet you do,” Henry chided as he held open the passenger door for you.

 “It’s about a ten-minute drive to the beach, maybe eight if the cliffside isn’t flooded.”

 “Wow, you’re right there, huh.”

 He smiled and nodded as you slipped into the car.

 “All right, let’s go. I have a goal to be kissed plentifully by this French sun, so in two weeks' time, I’m showing every bit of the melanin my ancestors blessed me with,” you joked.

 Henry shut your door and walked around to the driver’s side. Once in, he pressed the start button.

 “Bring it on. I happened to really like yours…it’s sexy,” he slipped in, meeting your eyes for a few moments.

 “Did you just call me sexy, Mr. Cavill?”

 His smile was wide before he slipped on his sunglasses. “Did I? Maybe, maybe not,” he said before he pulled off, beginning the journey.

 As he drove, you relished the breeze and sun on your skin and waved your hands in the air, fully enjoying the carefree vibes you felt. Before long, you’d pulled out your phone and began snapping a multitude of pictures of the scenery, the people, and occasionally even Henry, though he probably had no idea. You didn’t want to miss the chance to see how perfect he looked behind the wheel.

When you got close to the beach, Henry parked along the cliff as plenty other cars had done. According to him, no one made a fuss about small things like that; as long as people could still pass it was all right. The laidback style was already agreeing with you. With him carrying all the bags like the gentleman he was, you allowed him to lead you across the road toward the sands of the beach and then down the shore to find the perfect spot. It took a few minutes, but when you found it, you staked your claim, stomping in the sand, marking it as yours. Henry took the initiative, spreading the oversized beach blanket using the items you’d brought with you as anchors for the corners.

 Once he’d gotten it perfect, you wasted no time pulling off your tank then peeling off the shorts your wore. You tried to keep your eyes away from him, though you really wanted to know if you had his undivided attention. The middle ground bikini you’d chosen was still a look. The cut complimented your curves, while the color complimented your complexion. You wanted to take it at his pace, but you also had to show him you were still hot.

 When you lied back on the blanket, you gawked at the ocean before you and marveled at its sparkle while the sun reflected off of it. Looking beside you to him, you found his eyes on you and his jaw slightly ajar.

 “This is so beautiful.”

 Henry snapped his head away from you and looked at the view you were just staring at. “Very,” he replied, his voice constrained as if his throat were closing. He held your bag out to you, but he didn’t look at you again.

 “Thank you.”

 You dug through it looking for your sunscreen spray. Once you’d found it, you began spraying along your arms and shoulders, rubbing the mist in working your way to your chest.

 “Why France?”

 “Huh? Excuse me?”

 “France. Why France for buying a house?”

 “Well, I have some French blood-ties; the Channel Islands has its history of it, and France is smack in the middle of there and London. I fell in love with it,” he explained.

 “Why Bandol?”

 “Oh, that’s easy. It’s still luxurious enough like St. Tropez but not as high profile. I can be Henry here and not worry someone is taking my picture.”

 You nodded and understood perfectly. It was hard being on all the time. You’d gotten so used to it that you often forgot how to be off.

 “I get it. It’s the same reason why I’ll always choose Australia and Ireland overall,” you explained.

 “I’ve only seen Ireland a few times. I think I need to go back,” Henry added.

 You smiled as fond memories washed over you of your time in Ireland. “You definitely should.”

 You sprayed your shoulder closest to him and began rubbing in the liquid.

 “Ehm, need some help?”

 Your eyes met, and you fought back your smirk. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

 “Yeah, I can help. It’s no problem,” Henry assured.

 You handed him the bottle, then turned your back to him and waited. He didn’t touch you for several moments.

 “How many tattoos do you have?”

 “Um—not sure, seven, eight maybe,” you said while anxiously waiting for him to begin.

 “That’s quite a bit.”

 “Not too much. They’re all strategically placed,” you explained.

 When you felt the sprays on your back, you held your breath and waited for him to touch you. As Soon As he did, you bit your bottom lip, trying to ignore the feeling of completeness that washed over you. You liked the feel of his hands on your skin.

 “Have you—ehm, have you ever thought about tattoos?”

 “I have,” Henry began, his voice deeper than it had been moments before. his hands trailed lower to the small of your back, and you hunched over even more, giving him more access. “I’ve just never gotten around to it,” he finished.

 Turning your head to rest your cheek on the tops of your knees, you smiled. “Too much work?”

 A soft chuckle escaped him, and you felt his thump trail up your spine until he reached the back of your neck. Two sprays hit your skin, and he began rubbing into your shoulders. A weak moan slipped out, but he didn’t pull away. The kneading of his hands became more forceful then. You were quickly losing your nerve and grip on reality. Another moan slipped from your throat, and that was when Henry’s hands stilled and rested at your shoulder blades. You felt his fingertips trace the softest pattern onto your skin before they were gone.

 “All done.”

 By then, your heart was racing, and the butterflies in your gut were fluttering below your waist. Clearing your throat, you turned back to the ocean.

 “Thanks.”

 “No problem,” Henry said before he stood and discarded his shirt.

 The action didn’t help you at all. Your jaw hit the floor as you took in every inch of him you’d spent all night since seeing the sprigs of hair peeking out his shirt. Plenty of dark hair decorated his chest and trailed down his abs until it disappeared behind his pants. A soft gasp drifted out of you, but your eyes refused to stop ogling. So you sat there looking at him and counting each of his eight ab muscles. The man had an eight pack; you thought to yourself as your throat painfully tightened.

“What’s wrong?”

 Jerking your head up to his face, you shook your head, trying to find words.

 “Wrong? Huh, nothing—um—you uh—you’re—you’re--.”

 Henry smiled as he cocked his brow, waiting for you to say something intelligible. You had nothing, though.

 “Cat got your tongue?” The humor in his voice was so obvious, and you felt like an idiot.

 “And my brain cells, it would seem.”

 His smile made you smile while trying to avert your eyes from the rock hard statue that he was.

 “Sorry.”

 Henry scoffed. “It’s okay,” he said.

 “No, it’s not. You’re a person, not a piece of meat,” you clarified, feeling awful. You were doing the same thing to him that you hated men doing to you.

 “Wait, you think I’m a piece of meat?”

 Looking back at him, you spoke, “No, but I’m sure women look at you like you’re a piece of meat and in turn treat you like it.”

 He nodded, “They have in the past.”

 Your eyes again drifted downward, but you caught yourself before they got to his massive pecs. Clearing your throat, you stood.

 “Do you burn easily?”

 “I’m a white British man, of course, I do,” Henry joked, making you snort loudly.

 “Wow, do you want some?”

 He held his hands up as if to shield himself from you. “Are you looking for an excuse to feel me up?”

 “What!?”

 Henry snorted and laughed loudly.

 “You’re kidding,” you surmised.

 “Yes. You should have seen your face.”

 You shook your head while burying your face in your hands. “Wow. That’s not cool.”

 “You were an easy target,” Henry said, turning his back to you. “Oil me up, baby.”

 You had every intention to, but the side of him from the back stopped you in your tracks for a few moments. As you slowly approached him, you accessed the entire meal that was him before you, unsure where to start. You sprayed over his back then slowly began rubbing across his skin. You couldn’t believe that even his back was as toned as an Olympian. Your brain was slowly short-circuiting with every inch of skin you touched. When you brought your hands down his spine to his tailbone, Henry groaned, and you fought the urge to go lower.

 “All—done,” you said slightly above a whisper.

 “Not quite,” Henry said, turning to face you. “My chest burns easily too.”

 Face to face with temptation; you knew you were destined to give in. it was only a matter of time.

 “I thought you could--.”

 “—Nope. You started the job, so you should finish it.”

 Smiling, you bit your bottom lip. “Does that go for my chest too?”

 Henry’s eyes dropped to your breasts and rested there for a few seconds before he looked back into your eyes with a completely cheeky expression on his face. “Well—that is entirely up to you, Ms. Taylor.”

 Like a child, you giggled most uncharacteristically. Slapping your hand across your mouth, Henry laughed at you. “Oh god.”

 You sprayed across his chest and abs but hesitated touching him. Instead, you stood there gawking at the way his chest glistened. It’s not that you didn’t want to feel. You really, really wanted to feel. You just didn’t think you would be able to not come across as a thirsty fiend. Henry waited patiently waited no doubt taking notice of how you were beginning to hyperventilate. After a minute, he took a step back.

 “Here, I’ll finish the job—this time.”

 You dropped to the blanket and laid back, trying to recover. You couldn’t believe this was life right now. You’d never been attracted to anyone like this. You never struggled like this with anyone, and that reality was a little alarming. Peeking up, you watched as Henry finished rubbing the sunscreen into his chest, spreading it along his swollen shoulders and bulging arms. Your mouth ran dry while another part of you was anything but.

 While proving to be a heightened temptation, a day at the beach was just what the vacation doctors ordered. The roaring sun, the breeze with the salt in the air, and the screams and laughs of people enjoying themselves were wonderful. You didn’t think about work not once, or anything beyond the man beside you reading a book and the book you were reading while the soft sounds of jazz drifted between you. It was perfect.

 Every so often, your eyes drifted to Henry and took in different parts of him. Everything you saw you liked, and the fact that you liked it, only helped your brain daydream even more. There were a few times he caught you staring at him just as you caught him staring at you or parts of your body. When you did catch him, it only emboldened you to play up different parts of your body. You were relieved to know he at least still found you attractive.

 When he goaded you into the water, the two of you played in the waves. The first time Henry splashed you and got water in your hair, you made gasped and pretended to make a big deal about it, which prompted him to apologize profusely. You considered it payback until you tackled him in the water, holding him underneath until he lifted you in his arms like he was Goliath. Your eyes locked, and there was a moment you thought he would kiss you, but instead, he tossed you into the water. That one action began a water war that he easily won thanks to his colossal size and overpowering strength. You didn’t mind.

 By the time you’d sat to enjoy the picnic lunch Henry had packed, only a handful of people had recognized the two of you and asked for autographs and pictures. It really was the perfect first day of vacation, and you already didn’t want it to end. After lunch, you and Henry were walking along the shore, enjoying the lull of water crashing onto your ankles like you had no cares in the world.

  ~~~~~~~~

 -Henry-

 You were gorgeous, more gorgeous than you’d ever been. You were drop dead with make-up on, but without you were a knockout. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and he knew you had to know. There was no way that you didn’t. He didn’t start the day with any expectations because he really didn’t know what to expect, but it had turned out to be a great day. He looked across to you and took in your curled and coiled hair that framed your face and gave you an even more youthful glow.

 “So your hair is naturally curly?”

 You smiled and nodded as you turned to look at him.

 “Curly, coiled, kinky, it’s a bunch of stuff.”

 “So you straighten it.”

 “Yeah,” you confirmed.

 He was confused.  “Why?”

 With your brows knitted together, you took him in. “What do you mean why?”

 “Why? I can imagine it takes a lot of time. So, why do you do it?”

 You scoffed but didn’t speak right away. He allowed you the time to think.

 “Well—in the business, it’s easier. As horrible as it is, there are not many people who will cast the black actress with unruly hair or will have the right people who can do it properly. It’s a huge thing for black actresses, and unfortunately, can be the reason why many don’t get a role. So for me—I guess I got used to directors or photographers preferring the sleek look, so I just—maintain it. No one really cares for this,” you said, motioning to your hair.

 He understood what you were saying. Hollywood was fickle; he was living through it right now but couldn’t believe people's ignorance.

 “I like your hair right now. I like how free and beautiful it is. You don’t look—bound. You look free.”

 Your eyes met his, but he couldn’t read the look in them.

 “Oh uh—thank—you.”

 “You’re welcome,” he replied with a smile. “You should just leave it alone from now on.”

 You snorted. “Oh, is this how you want to see me?”

 He could hear the tease in your tone, “Free and beautiful? Absolutely.”

 Again the look in your eyes stumped him. Before he could ask you what you were thinking, you looked away and back out to the water.

 “What if I want to see you like this from now on?”

 He chuckled, “What, shirtless with bad hair?”

 You laughed with him for a few seconds. “Well, nothing wrong with this view at all,” you said, making him blush.

 “Oh, and for the record, your hair is anything but bad. When it’s all slicked to perfection, you look put together, but—I like the more…distressed you. You look free and boundless.”

 The smile on his lips hadn’t slipped since you’d begun your walk, and staring at you, he didn’t think it would slip. You looked away and cleared your throat, something you’d been doing a lot the entire day.

 “I’ll make a deal with you. You keep this look going, and I’ll keep this look going,” you proposed piquing his interest.

 “Do we have a deal?”

 “All right, we have a deal,” he sealed, holding out his hand for you to shake. When you did, you smiled mischievously.

 “Good,” you said before you pushed him into the water and the incoming wave.

 Shock flooded him though he should have known from the glint in your eye he’d picked up.

 “Did you really?”

 With pride and joy, you nodded, “I sure did.”

 As he stood, he wiped his face of the water and chuckled to himself.

 “As a gentleman, I will give you a four-second head start,” he announced.

 “Four seconds?”

 “Three now.”

 You squealed and ran down the beach, trying to put as much distance between you as possible. It was futile. He was fast. Once he’d counted down, he took off after you. When you looked back to see him coming, you screamed louder and tried to pick up the speed, but as he said, he was fast. In a few short seconds, he caught you and immediately began tickling you, making you scream even louder.

 “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you shouted through bouts of laughter and screams.

 “No, no, too late for that.”

 With you in his arms, he brought you to the water facing you out so you could see the massive wave coming in. You screamed again while kicking your legs, trying to get him to drop you, but it was no use. Seeing there was no way out, you stopped screaming, but when he tossed you into the wave, you screamed until the water engulfed you. He stepped back and waited for you to wash up on the shore. When you did, he proceeded to tickle you some more until you tripped him and rolled onto him to retaliate.

 Though he hadn’t let on that he was ticklish, you figured it out and exploited it mercilessly. The tickling led to both of you playfully throwing wet sand at each other while waves knocked you down. When he grabbed you, he smeared the wet sand across your chest below your collar, making you scream. That was when you coated his chest down to his waist. He pulled you to him rubbing his chest over yours to make sure you were as lathered as he was.

 “Oh my god!”

 A wave crashed over the two of you, nearly drowning you—nearly. When the water receded, you were still there in his arms, practically underneath him. he took in your beauty, and all he wanted to do was kiss you. he almost did before he stopped remembering what had led you to this point. He was tired of proving and showing you he wanted you—wanted to be with you. It was your turn to prove to him that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. That was when another wave washed over you, dampening the mood. He was thankful for it.

 Once he was standing, he pulled you upright.

 “Ready to go?”

 You nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

   ~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

 After leaving the beach, the two of you walked along the shops that decorated the surrounding area. He pointed out all the places he’d visited over the last few days. He knew some of the shop owners by their names, and it was something you liked for some reason. After the first few shops, you decided to pick up something for dinner and spent the next few minutes trying to decide just what to get.

 “Any special requests?”

 Henry’s surprise only lasted a few minutes before the smile you were getting so used to appeared.

 “You’re cooking?”

 “Yep.”

 His surprise turned to awe as he circled you once. “You can pick whatever you want,” he whispered in your ear before he walked to a stack of cans.

 “Are you sure?”

 He nodded, assuring you that you were good to make the decision.

 “Do you eat a lot?”

 “Do you?”

 “Hell yeah, I do,” you said in an exaggerated tone that had Henry laughing.

 As you walked around the store, you placed various items in the basket that Henry carried. Some peppers, scallions, garlic, onions, mushrooms, and plenty of herbs followed before you walked across the way to a seafood shop. You thought about something simple like salmon but changed your mind when you saw lobsters and said what the hell. You were only going to get two, but Henry piped up and tricked you into four, citing your insatiable appetite. Deep down, you wondered what appetite exactly he was referring to, for food or him. A trip to the local spirits shop had you stocked for more than just one night.

 When you made it back to the villa, Henry was the one to carry the bags to the kitchen, not letting you lift anything but the beach bag you’d left with at the start of your day. You met him in the kitchen in time to see him hoist everything onto the island.

 “All right, you’re all set there.”

 “Thank you, Superman.”

 He smiled and helped you unpack the items in the bags, laying them out on the counters and the island. Once that was finished, you made a move to the door.

 “I’m going to take a shower. I can feel sand everywhere.”

 What was to be a relatively quick shower quickly turned long because you needed to wash your hair and treat it, so you didn’t have any residual salt damage. No one liked breaking hair. That alone usually took almost an hour. Instead of going for the full experience, you cut a few corners in the routine but still managed to complete it. After throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank, you made your way back to the kitchen, ready to cook one of the best meals he’d ever have.

 With soft music playing and a towel wrapped around your hair while your leave-in heat treatment did what it was made to, you began prepping the ingredients. The soft music and time alone gave you more time to process the perfect day you’d just had. There was nothing about it that you’d change, even down to the intense tension that was constantly between you. If another day played out the same way, you still would think it was perfect.

 “All right, I’m clean now. Would you like some help?”

 Henry stood behind you in a tank and sweats with his hair full of curls.

 “Sure, you can actually prove to me that you know what you’re doing in here,” you teased as he approached your side.

 “I’m about to knock your knickers off.”

 You snorted and peeped at him. “Promise.”

 The flustered look on his face said he just realized the land mind he’s just stepped into. Pushing it to the side, you focused on the chives you were chopping.

 “What would you like me to do?”

 Looking around the kitchen, you assessed everything that needed to be done then delegated.

 “Those veggies need to be rough diced and washed.”

 “Consider it done,” Henry replied, stepping away to begin prep. Before he began, though, he walked to one of the bottles of wine you’d just gotten, popped it, and poured two glasses.

 “A little vino for you.”

 Smiling, you took the glass. “Thank you.”

 The two of you worked together chopping, dicing, and slicing the vegetables and herbs and the seafood for dinner. Every few minutes, your eyes met, and you giggled. Once the cooking began, Henry teased you about your towel wrapped hair, saying that was how magazine covers should show you. You watched his form and how he handled his knives and liked how he moved. He handled knives like he’d been doing it his whole life.

 When you saw him perfectly Julianne cut the cucumbers you practically drooled and were ready to push him against that island. You loved a man who could handle himself in the kitchen. Pumping iron and weights and a nice body was great, but cooking dinner for someone because you care, was a supreme turn on.

 When the lobster was steaming and the potatoes boiling, you leaned beside him and watched him kneed the dough he was prepping for what he called his famous sugar rolls.

 “So mentioned you have nieces or nephews? I don’t remember which,” you began.

 “Yes. Three nephews, no nieces.”

 “Cool. What’re their names?”

 Henry smiled as he spoke, “James and Peter and Lucas.”

 “Strong names.”

 “Yeah, Nik and Charlie picked them,” he said.

 “Nik—he’s the older brother, right?”

 “Oldest. I’m surprised you remember.”

 “No girl?”

 “Ha, Charlie really wants a girl. He has a son Lucas but dreams about having a daughter.”

 “Nice. I have two nephews, Niko and Milo, and a niece Aloa, my oldest sister Miesha,” you added.

 The way Henry smiled, you could tell he liked kids. “That’s nice. Do you see them a lot?”

 “I try. It’s hard, though, with my schedule.”

 He nodded, then shifted to the sink to rinse off the cucumbers before beginning with the carrots.

 “I understand.”

 With your curiosity piqued, you decided to dive right in. “So you like kids.”

 “Love kids,” he replied. “You?”

 “Uh—yeah. They’re precious.”

 “I’m guessing you’re close to your brothers.”

 “Oh god, yes, really, really close. We talk several times a day. They’re my first call when something good or bad happens, and it’s the same for them.”

 “That’s good. I’m close to mine too. We don’t talk every day, but I try. I do have a twin, so we don’t need to talk. We just know what’s going on with each other,” you explained.

 “How is that having a twin?”

 You shrugged and put a piece of cucumber into your mouth. “It’s everyday like for me. I don’t know what to say,” you said with a small chuckle.

 “Are all the clichés true?”

 You scoffed and went back to keeping yourself busy. “What clichés exactly?”

 “Oh, you know that you feel each other’s pain and feel what the other feels, oh that you know what they’re thinking.”

 You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “It’s not like I fall down the stairs, and he feels me fall. That’s just impossible.”

 Henry nodded and moved to rinse the carrots.

 “Yeah, it’s more like a constant presence I feel. You—you never really feel alone, sort of like this constant connection or feeling like someone always has your back. We can feel what the other feels a lot of the time, but it’s sort of like a gut feeling more than an actual physical feeling. There are times he’ll feel when I’m sad and crying, and it’s incredibly annoying.”

 “I can imagine,” Henry started.

 Feeling his eyes on you, you turned to face him and waited for him to speak.

 “Does he feel everything—your moments of happiness or—pleasure?”

 Snorting, you laughed loudly, unable to keep it in.

 “Happiness, I think there could be valid proof to that. As for pleasure, no idea. It’s never been brought up but kinda creepy to think about that.”

 You both busted out laughing, realizing just how creepy it would be if there were any validity to that. Cooking together turned out to be really fun. Usually, you hated people in your space, but with Henry, you didn’t mind it at all. You didn’t mind the subtle way his body brushed yours whenever he passed you. You didn’t mind the sly looks across the kitchen when he took a sip of his wine. You didn’t mind the flirtation in the air, and when he watched you make your lemon cake for dessert, you didn’t mind that he was learning one of your secret recipes. It was something you felt you could get used to.

 Two hours later, you were bringing out one of the platters to the dining table in the yard just in time to catch Henry putting a clay vase filled with beautiful lavender and rapeseed flowers. The purple and yellow combo was so bright it looked like it belonged with the décor around you.

“Wow, would you look at that,” you began eyeing the perfectly set table. “You can set a table too.”

 His smile was wide. “I sure can.”

 “With the proper place settings. I’m impressed.”

 He ran his fingers through his hair and slowly licked his lips as he shrugged. “I didn’t go to finishing school or anything but--,” Henry trailed off, making you laugh at the sly reference to you.

 “Oh, okay, Mr. Cavill.”

 You backed away with your hands raised, making your way back to the kitchen with him following close behind. You pointed to him the items to go, and he walked with you back outside.

 “I know you think I eat a lot, but--.”

 “Oh, stop it. I am sure you have to have a high-calorie intake to maintain your Superman shape, so—ta-da,” you said, giving him jazz hands in front of the food-filled table.

 “Oh, so you’re looking out for me, huh.”

 “Of course. What else is your girlfriend supposed to do?”

 Henry’s smile slowly slipped before it reappeared but only for a second. “Girlfriend, huh?”

 Just like that, your stomach fell through the floor, fully realizing what you’d said. Now you felt like an idiot especially seeing his reaction.

 “Um—well--.”

 Not waiting for you to respond, Henry walked to your chair and pulled it out for you.

 “Uh—give me a second,” you said, bending forward to pull the towel off of your head.

 It had been well past the forty-five minutes you usually kept it on for, and you didn’t want to eat with this heavy thing on your head. Using your fingers, you combed through your curls then stood up to face him. This was practically the first time you stood before a man that wasn’t part of your family with your hair natural. You hated that you felt self-conscience about it. The look on his face was a lot different this time. His eyes were wide, and his mouth ajar.

 “Sorry. Thanks,” you said, slipping into the chair.

 Once he’d pushed you in, he sat across from you.

 “So I know you love your beer and steak,” you began with a smile. “So the steak is cooked in Guinness—a lot of Guinness.”

 Henry chuckled and assessed the steak on his plate while nodding.

 “Bon appetite.”

 Once henry put a slice of the steak in his mouth, he moaned and gave you the chef’s kiss. You knew exactly what it meant, the good ol seal of approval.

 “This is really good.”

 “I’m glad you like it.”

 After putting another slice of steak into his mouth, he nodded. “I love it. you’re a great cook.”

 “Thank you. I tried to tell you.”

 Henry chuckled, giving you a slight roll of his eyes before he continued eating. He was right dinner was good. While you ate, you enjoyed the setting sun and conversation about music, good food, and good wine. One bottle of wine quickly finished, then you were cracking open another and another. When dinner was finished, you sat there listening to the stories of his childhood where his mother played referee between five boys. The way he talked about her made her sound like a saint. It was clear to see how much he admired and loved her. That made you like him even more.

 By the time you climbed into bed for the night, your mind was racing a mile a minute, and all your thoughts were of Henry and the probability that he just might be the perfect man. That thought scared you even more than there being something wrong with him. If he were perfect, then it meant he was perfect for you, and perfect for you meant commitment, complications, and vulnerability while opening the stage for possible heartbreak. Even through the fear, one constant remained—you wanted him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[cracked-pean]

Get the Memo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Derek Hale, Sheriff Stilinski (Mentioned), Cora Hale (Mentioned) and OFC! Cousin Stilinski.

Word Count: 3017

Warnings: Stalking (I think that’s what you call it. That’s what I’m gonna go with.) but really it’s more fluff so don’t worry too much.

Summary: People just don’t seem to get the memo around here.

Requested by @stellastyless

Masterlist

A/N: Hi dudes.So as you can see. Yes this is a request. My first one actually. I’m gonna be honest. I was excited and nervous when I saw i had a request come in. I was scared that I was gonna mess it up, or it would turn out wrong and not be what they expected it to be. So, that’s why it took a while for me to post this up. But, honestly once I started writing, I got in the zone and this basically took a mind of its own. So, I hope you enjoy it. Sorry for any errors.

+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

It was a normal weekday, the middle of March, the Spring season was just beginning to bloom and the weather outside was nice and cool. Just right for families and their kids to be out and about. But, it was also the season for final projects to be assigned for students, and Stella just happened to be one of those students. Her dark and platinum streaked hair hung loose off the edge of the bed as she laid upside down. A book was being held above her face as her eyes scanned the pages. There was a book report that she had been assigned that was due by the end of May, when she was due to finish. Of course, Stella wasn’t one to slack off on school work. Always one to be ahead of such things. She didn’t receive perfect grades by doing nothing.

Just as she was about to turn the next page, her bedroom door slammed open.

“Hey Cuz, it-”

“Ow, fuck,” the girl swore as her book made contact with her face. Sure any item would hurt, but since it was a hardcover. Well, it just caused her pain a bit more. “Dammit Stiles. Haven’t you heard of knocking,” Stella sat up while holding her nose.

Stiles stifled a laugh, “Not my fault you decided to hang around like a Bat.” He got shot a glare from her blue-grey eyes.

While she put away her book on her desk, he walked in and made himself comfortable on her bed.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of?” Stella leaned on her desk with her arms crossed against her chest.

“Dad’s got the night shift, so it’s just gonna be us two tonight for dinner.”

Stella has been living with her Uncle John and cousin Stiles for 2 years now. There were some things circling about her in her hometown. Some lies were being spread from people she thought were her friends, could trust them, and loved her just as much she did them. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. So she thought enough was enough. After thinking it would blow off, Stella decided to leave. Right after graduation, she discussed it all with her parents and moved to Beacon Hills to live with her uncle and cousin, and continued her studies there.

The Stlinkins were more than happy to have her. Especially Stiles. Despite the 3 year age difference between them, those two were like siblings. So, once he heard the news, the then 16 year old made everything ready for her. Cleaned the house, the spare bedroom where she would be staying and bought some things she would like, to decorate her room with. Sure all that wasn’t necessary to do. The girl could care less, as long as she felt welcomed, but the sheriff didn’t have the heart to stop his son. He was quite amused if he was being honest.

“You mean, us two plus Scott right,” she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Well I mean, if you wan-”

The girl interrupted his blubber, “I know he’s downstairs, dude. You two aren’t exactly the quietest of pairs,” she teased.

The two walked down the stairs into the living room. There on the couch sat Scott scrolling through his phone, he looked up when he heard the cousins making their way over. He gave Stella a smile and greeted her. She returned him a small one and muttered out a quiet ‘Hey’ then made her way to the kitchen.

It wasn’t that Stella didn’t like Scott, she was just a bit closed off. She didn’t really trust people that often anymore, since everything happened. Sure she was polite and greeted them and such, but making them her friends was not on her list. So when she moved here, she had to grow used to being comfortable around the guy. Scott did have the face of a cute little puppy, but Stella wasn’t going to fall for it so easily. It wasn’t till a few months later that Stella accepted him but as more of an acquaintance. It was with all Stiles’ friends that she’s met. Just mere acquaintances.

“Ok, well we don’t have any groceries to make anything, cause somebody forgot to buy them,” she said while shooting a look at Stiles, who was avoiding eye contact. “So you guys decide what to get as take out and I'll just go pick it up.”

With that she went up to her room to get ready. There wasn’t much for her to do. She still had on her clothes she wore for class earlier. A black tank top criss-crossed on the front, and knee ripped jeans. All she had to do was put on her ankle boots and her light jean jacket. She unplugged her phone and went down to meet the boys.

“-ask nicely. You’re paying anyway.” Stiles stood in front of a smiling Scott, with a look of betrayal on his face.

“So what’s it gonna be boys?”

“Thai. From the restaurant near the mall. But, can you also swing by the store and buy some tubs of ice-cream? Please,” with looks the two were giving her, you’d think they were in middle school and not seniors in high school.

Ice-cream? She thought. That sounds pretty good right now. Ok.

“Fine, but you’re taking my turn on buying groceries,” she walked towards the door and grabbed her keys. “Course I’ll pay my turn, but you’re going.”

“Yes, deal,” her cousin wrapped his arms around her and smooched a kiss on her cheek. She laughed and she playfully wiped it off. He handed her off the cash as well as what flavors to buy.

After a 15 minute drive, Stella arrived at the town plaza and parked. The thai place was just across the street from the convenience store. She figured it would be best to pick up the food first then head over to buy the ice-cream, so it wouldn’t melt from the wait.

While she was getting out, Stella noticed a group of three guys, around her age, hanging near by their own cars. They were all laughing and messing around, but they quieted down a bit once Stella walked by them to get inside the restaurant. The small bell above the door rang, signalling them they had a customer. Stella gave the front lady her order and was told to wait a few minutes as they got it ready for her. Once the cashier disappeared behind the double doors to the kitchen, the bell rang again. The brunette didn’t really give it much thought as she tapped on her phone, but she felt a bit weird afterwards. She scanned the shop a bit and noticed a pair of eyes looking right at her. It was one of the guys from outside.

He must have been the one to enter. He had taken a seat a few tables down from her, where she was waiting on her order. The guy gave her a small wave along with a flirtatious smile while his other hand propped up his head. Stella gave him a tight smile in return, and instantly regretted it. Old habits.

Apparently he took it as a sign to make his move, because he got up from his seat and made his way over to her. She sneaked a look behind him, where the doors to the kitchen, to see if the lady was out yet. She wasn’t.

Stella internally groaned. She wasn’t scared of him. She knew how to defend herself and could easily take him if need be, but that took so much work and she didn’t really feel like making a scene. So she sucked it up and decided to shoo him away first with words.

-

Words weren't helping and she was just about to snap at him. No matter what she did or threw at him (verbally) he could not take a hint. After waiting for a while, the lady finally showed up with two plastic bags apologizing. Stella waved it off nicely and without a second look towards the guy, she left in the direction to the convenient store nearby.

But that damn guy was very persistent in getting her attention. She was walking towards the crosswalk while trying to ignore his calls from behind her. Honestly, Stella was about to drop-kick him and make her way back to her car and drive back home, ice-cream forgotten. But she noticed another guy near the crosswalk light on his phone. As she neared, she got a better look at him.

Derek Hale.

Stella had seen him hang out with her cousin and his friends and knew he was in that small circle of people that Stiles’ trusted. From what she could gather up about him was that he was sort of the silent caretaker/big brother of the bunch. He was quiet but there were also times he would join in on the fun with the others. Derek and her would have small conversations when he would come over to the house when the others were over. They sort of had this pull towards each other that they didn’t seem to mind on having. But it was nothing further than that. Though a friendship was slowly growing amongst the two.

So before she could stop herself, the words seemed to blurt out of her on their own.

“Hey, babe.”

Derek’s head shot up at the loud shout near him and noticed the familiar hair and grey, blue eyes making their way over to him. There was a small confused look on his face when she got closer to him. Before he could fully react, the girl’s arms wrapped around him.

“Play along, the guy’s been following me,” she whispered in his ear.

That was all it took for Derek to reciprocate the hug and place a small kiss on her head while sneaking a glance behind her. The guy had slowly come to a stop with a bit of confusion on his face. He was sure that the girl had arrived on her own. He would have remembered the guy, he wasn’t hard to miss.

“Hey, I see you got the food. Ready to go?” Derek asked the girl just loud enough for the other to hear. And if the smile he had given her made her heart flutter a bit, she refused to acknowledge it.

“Yeah, just got to get the ice-cream and we’ll be good to go.”

Just then the walk sign glowed signalling the two that there were able to walk across. As if the two had done this a million times, Derek took the bags of food from her and she instantly latched her hand in his and wrapped her other arm around it and leaned her head on his shoulder as they made their way across.

The comfortness that came upon the two was strange. They had never been this touchy feely before. The only touch that had come between the two was a handshake. That’s it. However, the two did know that they were oddly ok with this closeness. They didn’t feel awkward or like it was force. With Derek’s history and also being closed off with people, the first time he had met Stella he did not have a problem or feel any discomfort from being in her presence.

Same with Stella. Even though she had wanted to be more cautious about the new people she met here. She had felt this strange pull towards the male.

“I’m sorry, I know this must be awkward for you. My mouth just likes to speak before it let’s me think things through. I’m sure you had things to do,” she spoke while nearing the store.

“Don’t worry about it. Cora knows I’m running late already, there’s no hurry. How long has he been tagging you?” he asked as he opened the door for her. Not once letting go of her hand.

The store was pretty big for being on the corner. It was big enough where they could talk in normal voices and not be heard by others on the other side. And for them, this was good. Because the guy followed them in.

“Eh, about 30 minutes or so,” Stella then began to explain to him how it happened as they walked up and down random aisles.

Derek started to feel a sense of anger and protectiveness build up in him. He didn’t know why. Was it because she was Stile’s cousin and didn’t want to upset him? Because if something were to happen to her Derek would feel at fault with him there? Cause he cared? Maybe even liked her?

“Now we’re here,” she leaned down to grab a few candy bags, “and since we are, you want something? It’s On Stiles,” she asked him as she held up ‘Troli Sour Gummy Worms’ and ‘Sour Patch Kids’.

He let out a small laugh, “I’ll take the worms.”

“Really now? Most people would go for the sour kids,” she tossed two packs of them into the basket she held.

“Well, I’m not most people,” he shrugged.

“No. You definitely aren’t,” Stella mumbled.

She turned towards him again and could catch a glimpse of the stranger still keeping tabs on them. Stella went to grab Derek’s hand again and he could feel her tense up. He gave it a small squeeze and pulled her closer towards him by wrapping his arm around her shoulder while hers was across her chest. No matter if Stella could defend herself the situation was still frightening. This guy has been following her for a while now and still wouldn’t leave her alone, even if Derek was with her. They then walked towards the frozen section nearby.

“He still there?” he asked quietly. His voice was nice and soothing enough to bring her nerves down a bit.

“Yeah,” she sighed and leaned in a bit into his chest. “I mean what more could this guy need to leave us alone,” She then paused as an idea came to her. She placed one of the ice-cream tubs in the basket and turned to smile softly at Derek. This was crazy but desperate times call for desperate measures. Derek’s back was toward the stranger so he wasn’t able to see the nervous grin Derek gave her.

“Kiss me.”

Derek’s eyes popped wide open. How could she say it so casually with that cute smile on her face.

“What?”

“Kiss me. It’s our last option at this point.”

Derek placed his hands on either side of her cheeks and slowly brought their lips to meet each other. Their eyes fluttering shut in the process. Her stomach started doing flips. She did not expect to have this reaction from it. His lips were soft and caused her body to have goosebumps. Stella’s arms came up around his midsection and grabbed a hold onto his shirt from the back.

Derek could not tell you what it was that possessed him. Could have been the idea to make this whole plan seem real as possible, the desperation to finally get rid of the guy or his compressed feelings were starting to make themselves known to him and this fake couple thing was just a boost. But once her smooth lips met his and he felt the warmth of her skin in his hands. He was gone.

What was supposed to be a short, quick kiss. Turned out to not being that. The two were like in a trance. They didn’t care who could see them right now. Sparks were going off in their heads and shooting through their bodies. And the reason behind this whole thing was long forgotten in their heads.

After what felt like hours, which was actually like a minute, they pulled apart. With Derek’s hands still on her cheeks and her arms on his waist, they just stared into each other’s eyes. Blue meeting green. They were slightly out of breath, from the shock they felt from the kiss.

“Did it work?” Derek was the first to break the silence.

“What?” Stella asked, still in a slight daze.

“The guy. Is he gone?” he asked while his thumbs softly rubbed her cheeks.

Stella blinked herself back to reality and shifted her eyes behind him around the store.

They were so occupied with themselves that the guy hadn’t realized that he had indeed left. He was still confused throughout the whole thing but, he had finally gotten the message and left the store.

Stella let out a small breath and relaxed completely. The weight lifted off her shoulders. She returned her gaze to the man in front of her and smiled.

“Yeah, he’s finally gone,” she embraced him in a hug and rested her forehead on his chest.

Derek smiled down at her but internally relaxed too. He was sure that this was not going to end well. But, thank god it was all settled.

“Thank you. I owe you one dude.”

“Don’t worry about it. As long as you’re safe now, that’s all that mattered to me.”

Derek wasn’t sure what to do next. But he for sure was comfortable in their place and didn’t want to let go. Stella was in the same boat. This whole experience was such a rollercoaster for the two. They obviously had feelings for each other, just didn’t know what to do about them. They were both sort of similar. The trust issues, the fear of being close to someone again. But they had somehow found familiarity in that. Because of their pasts, they knew what to do and look for from now on.

“Is it bad that I just want to stay here for awhile?” she spoke against his chest.

“No,” he pulled her closer to him. “I’m quite alright here too.”

And if the store clerk noticed the couple just standing near the back with melting ice-cream in their basket. They didn’t mention it or seemed to mind it. As long as they bought something.

[catchester]

12 Days of Christmas

Title: Epiphany 

Authors: @evieplease​​​​ and @catchester​​​​

Which character: Actor!Tom and OFC Rocky

Genre: Humour/Explicit

Fic Summary: Tom and Rocky spend their first Christmas as a couple and Rocky meets Tom’s Mum for the first time. Expect 12 gifts, too much boozy, bad puns and lots of fun!

Rating: Mature

Previous Chapters: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138390/chapters/40304798

Epiphany 

I’m not much of a cook. I mean, I can feed myself but that cordon bleu shit is way out of my wheelhouse. I don’t really have the time or patience for it anyway. Tom beats me like a drum in the cooking stakes, but if there’s one thing I can cook perfectly, it’s a steak. 

I also make wonderful, fat chips—twice cooked so they’re lovely and crispy outside, but fluffy inside. And I’ve mastered a couple of sauces, but creamy pepper is Tom’s favourite, so we’ll be having that.

I’d also bought a little bit of broccoli to ‘show willing’, as my gran used to say. It was an afterthought, but it looks pretty on the plate, so. . .

Normally I’d cook a ribeye but tonight I was going all out and had bought three, fat, juicy sirloin steaks. I was salivating just thinking about them. 

I’d even bought a new dress, a little red dress—a nice companion for my overworked little black dress. I kind of love it. It’s figure hugging, but with a little flirty flare at the hem, and an almost exact match for my crimson Sephora lip stain. Looks great with my boots too. And I know that Tom will appreciate the back view. Just wearing the thing made me want to wiggle my arse for him!

I’d spent much of the day in my workshop, which is just a fancy way of saying the garage I rent near my flat that I store my spares and heavier equipment in. I knew I was pushing things time wise, but I was nervous, okay?

The fresh layer of snow didn't help matters, snarling up traffic and meaning my errand took twice as long as it should have. 

I ended up having to leave my chips boiling while I got ready, and kept darting back to poke them with a knife. I was damn lucky I didn't overcook them and end up with mash, but somehow I didn’t. 

I had just slid into my new dress when the buzzer went, and I scrambled to do the zip up before Tom and Diana reached my front door. 

I didn’t quite make it, and had to greet Diana with my bra strap hanging out. Luckily Tom spotted my predicament and zipped me up the rest of the way, but not before Diana commented on how chilly I must be! But I got a kiss on the back of my neck from Tom, so it’s all good.

My flat might only be two bedrooms, but it was pretty spacious. I’d improved it a lot over the last five years and it was worth a small fortune thanks to London prices. I would never have been able to afford a flat in London if not for my Dad. Growing up, we’d lived in a council house, which Dad bought at a vastly reduced rate back in the 80s when Right to Buy came in. As such, his small mortgage was long paid off, and the prices had skyrocketed over the years, so when all three of his kids had flown the coop, he sold the four bedroom place and bought two flats in the same estate, but different blocks. 

We’d drawn up a contract and when I reached what he’d paid for it, he’d transfer ownership to me, or it would come to me on his death, whichever came first. My brothers would get his larger flat to share between them. Good luck to ‘em! Those boys haven’t agreed on anything but the MCU since they were ten and twelve, and I can just about predict the rows they’ll have deciding to renovate or sell Dad’s place. I plan on sitting back and enjoying the show.

One of my improvements to my place was to knock down the wall between the living room and kitchen. Where the wall used to be I kept a narrow, oblong table that folded out into one that could comfortably seat four. My extra folding chairs were kept in a cupboard. In my defence, they’re very nice folding chairs and I have cushions I can tie on… 

How naff. I’d hang my head in shame, but I know Diana will appreciate the irony.

Thank god I hadn't had time to worry like this earlier, or they’d likely have arrived to find me sloshed again! Speaking of which... 

“Can I get you a drink?” I asked, my stomach swooping, suddenly realising I should have picked up an extra bottle of wine! Bollocks! Wait, didn’t I have a nice one Tom bought as a gift a few months ago lurking at the back of a cupboard somewhere? I’d have to get it in the fridge ASAP. 

“I don't have any red wine, I’m afraid, only rosé.” I worried my lip. I’m not really a fan of red wine,  but red meat goes with red wine, and Diana would know that! 

“Oh lovely, I like a nice rosé.” Diana to the rescue! God, I love that woman. She’s so polite. 

I did find the bottle Tom had brought around before. It too was pink, but it was prosecco, not wine. Aah well, maybe that would work better as a dessert wine. Or, with luck, a fizzy celebration wine. I put it in the top of the fridge and opened the cold bottle of rosé. 

“Here you go.” I handed them each a glass, but decided to have a beer myself so the wine would go further. I did decant my bottle contents into a tall glass for a change though because I’m at least attempting to be civilised tonight. 

“You have a lovely home,” Diana said as I sat down on my L-shaped unit. It was a bargain I’d found on freecycle then re-upholstered, but it was a quality piece and looked expensive. 

It’s not that I can’t afford a new sofa, even an expensive one—my business does well and my rent to my Dad is whatever I want to pay him. I pay quite a lot because I want him to get his investment in the flat back quickly, but he wouldn't mind at all if I took a whole year off payments because he trusts me. Plus, he’s semi retired now so all he does is answer the phones and do the books, for which he claims 30% of the profits. He started the business so I don’t begrudge him, and it means he isn't desperate for my rent as his income. 

The real reason I upcycled my sofa is that she had such lovely bones, and I love crafty activities. After the renovations on the flat were done, I’d set about finding pieces I could give new life to. My bed mattress was brand new, but the headboard was second hand and recovered in a print to compliment the aqua and white paint in there. I’d stripped the old varnish off the wood parts and stained it new.

I asked Diana about the exhibition she was going to see and she explained it was actually a workshop where she’d be learning something called blackwork embroidery. I’d gathered from looking around her home that she was quite arty, but I hadn’t realised she enjoyed crafting too. It was nice to know we had something in common and I told her about a couple of my projects in the flat. I even told her the story of stapling my finger to the sofa she was sitting on, the very first time I used an upholstery gun, and she told me about some of her past projects. 

After topping up their glasses, I began preparing the meal, but I could still chat to them as I worked. They wanted their steaks medium, which everyone defines differently but after some probing I determined that they liked it red inside, but not bloody cold, which was my preference too. Okay, maybe I like mine a little bloody, but it went on the skillet only 60 seconds after theirs. 

I served my very fat chips in a sort of jenga tower with the middle bricks missing, being very careful not to wipe my greasy fingers on my red dress,  then the steaks, a very healthy dollop of peppercorn sauce, and the broccoli topped with a knob of butter on the side. 

“You led me to believe you weren’t a very good cook,” Diana gently chided me as we ate. 

“I’m not,” I assured her. “I know how to cook, like, three things really well, this, lasagne, and a cheesecake, which we’re having for desert. Everything else falls somewhere between okay and inedible.” 

“Do not ask her to cook fish,” Tom winked at me conspiratorially.

I laughed. He’d once said something about liking salmon, so I got a recipe and tried to cook it for him. It was all new to me, the only fish Dad or the boys would eat came from the fish and chips shop down the corner. Unfortunately no matter what I did the stuff tasted like dirt! Very fishy dirt! I ended up over seasoning, then overcooking it so much that it dried out and it really was inedible. 

And it still tasted like dirt!

We’d ordered a curry instead. 

“Well, these potatoes are amazing, you must give me the recipe,” Diana told me, smiling warmly at me. 

It wasn't hard, so I explained it to her as we ate. 

As well as complimenting me, Diana ooh’d and ah’d as she ate. Tom just ate steadily as if afraid someone might nick his plate if he slowed down, glancing up at me with a warm appreciative smile now and then, so I think they genuinely liked it. 

Good, Diana would probably not like it if I poisoned her boy. 

Talk of the salmon disaster naturally led onto other food related disasters, and I quickly learned I was in good company. 

“Do you remember when you left some steaks out to defrost?” Tom asked his mum. 

Apparently their neighbour’s cat had neatly chewed away all but the rind of fat while they were in the garden. Then there was the story of a time they’d been visiting a friend, and another friend’s dog had eaten the shepherd’s pie they were to be served! 

The Guinness pie was my favourite story though. It was apparently a steak pie made with Guinness gravy, that Diana loved as a child. It was her father’s recipe, basically the only thing he cooked, and then only once or twice a year, on special occasions. She swore she followed the recipe her father gave her to the letter but it was awful. 

“Turned my stomach, honestly,” she admitted, turning pink even after all these years. 

Tom was grinning. “She served us all first, then she realised she’d forgotten the pot of English mustard and told us to all tuck in. Well we did, and there’s me, my sisters and my dad just looking at each other. We all knew she’d spent all day on this and was really looking forward to it. None of us had the heart to tell her we couldn't eat it. She came back and we all plastered smiles on and told her how wonderful it was, while helping ourselves to carrots.”

“That should have been my first clue,” Diana laughed. “Honestly, you’d have thought this one was allergic to vegetables, given how hard he tried to avoid them, and there he was larding his plate with carrots!”

“Then she took one mouthful and her face just turned grey,” Tom laughed. Diana reached out and playfully smacked his shoulder.

“I still tried it a second and third time, in case I’d made a mistake, although I didn't make the family try it. I thought that perhaps the stout needed to marinate longer, or be cooked at a higher temperature so it burned off, but each attempt was just as inedible as my first bite. My father was adamant that he’d given me the exact recipe he used. I gave up in  the end and concluded that he must have substituted something else for the stout, possibly something like cider. I’ve tried other recipes with cider gravy over the years but never quite managed to replicate the same taste.”

I cleared the plates from the table but everyone wanted a little break before desert, which was fine with me. 

“Has Tom told you about our 12 days gifts?” I asked Diana as I grabbed a box from a kitchen drawer.

Suddenly I had a sort of out of body experience where I was watching myself sit with Tom and his mum, I must be mad for even considering what I was about to do...

“He’s told me all about it,” she grinned. “What a lark! It sounds like you had great fun.”

“We did, but more than that, those gifts, specifically the thought Tom had put into his, had really brought home how much he cares for me.” 

I handed Diana a gift box, about 6 inches by four, and maybe two deep. It wasn't wrapped but I had done it up in a fancy ribbon. Eventually she freed it from it’s ribbon prison and opened the lid. 

There in the middle, nestling among some tissue paper (which was hiding some printer paper because I didn't have enough tissue paper, and I wasn’t using bog paper) sat a ring box. 

“This looks interesting,” she murmured, reaching for the ring box.

I could hardly hear her over the hammering of my heart, and I couldn’t look at Tom. My hands were sweating, and my leg was jittering under the table.

As I got off my chair, my knees were trembling but I managed to move beside Diana’s chair before I collapsed to my knees. I barely made eye contact with Tom, who looked curious. 

“It’s a. . . a ring?” 

I had found an incredible rose gold, tungsten ring with a gorgeous burl wood inlay for Tom. I thought it would look warm and elegant on his left hand. It’s unusual, but once I saw it, I couldn’t even look at any bog standard men’s wedding bands. I hope he likes it. Diana’s finger traced thoughtfully over the design, so I think she liked it.

Diana looked up at me, eyebrows up and questions in her eyes. I shuffled around, less gracefully than I’d like until I was on one knee before her, in the traditional pose of a proposer. 

I desperately wanted to look at Tom to see his reaction but I didn’t dare. I’d lose my bottle, if I did...

I took the ring box from her, but I was shaking so much I had to hold it with both hands. I cleared my throat, and sternly ordered myself not to tear up out of sheer nerves.

“This last year taught me a lot about Tom and our relationship, and I suppose you could say I’d had an epiphany about how much your son has come to mean to me. With that in mind, Diana, I..” My voice cracked and I had to clear it and try again.  “I wonder if you would do me the honour of becoming my Mother-in-Law? 

The next three seconds seemed to last an hour. Diana’s mouth opened in surprise as she stared down at the ring. Not unpleasantly surprised, but, oh god, she also wasn't answering me... 

I shouldn't have done it this way, I shouldn't have brought Diana into this. I’d just thought it was a funny and quirky way to include her, but of course, she couldn't answer for Tom. This was such a stupid idea! 

I saw Diana’s gaze flick in Tom’s direction and still couldn’t look at him. I kept my eyes steady on hers and wished the ground would open up to swallow me whole. Hell, it could take my whole apartment, as long as this nightmare stopped! 

I could feel my eyes pricking with tears of humiliation. I should have got drunk again, then I’d probably be passed out and unable to make a fool of myself. Again. I lifted my chin and grabbed courage with both hands, waiting for the verdict.

Suddenly there was an arm around my shoulder and I realised Tom was kneeling beside me. 

“Please, Mum, say yes!” 

I’ve never felt so much relief as when I heard him say that. I swayed on my knees and my surroundings spun briefly as all the air seemed to rush back into the room.

Diana’s hand moved to her chest, patting it as if she’d had heart palpitations, her eyes twinkling down at me.

“Well I don’t know…” she deliberately drew out her response, the tease! “Don’t you think this is... awfully sudden, dear?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. What was she on about? She looked just exactly like Tom when he was about to spring a horrible pun on me, the same sly little smile lurking about her lips. 

“I’m trying to think what those vows would be... ‘Do you, Rocky, take this woman, Diana, as your Awful Wedded Mother-in-Law? To poke and to prod, to stick her nose in where it isn’t wanted, and to generally make herself a pain in your arse? So help you baby Jesus?’

I grinned. Yep, I definitely wanted her! Tom choked beside me, laughing.

“Diana, that is exactly what I had in mind!” I nodded my head hard, my hair bouncing wildly around my head. “So, um, will you?”

Diana reached down and carefully pulled a strand of hair from my mouth, tenderly tucking it behind my ear, her eyes softened into the exact shade Tom’s get. Her hand cupped my cheek gently.

“Yes Rocky, I’d be delighted to be your Mother-in-Law.” she said softly. I heard Tom’s breath gust out in relief beside me. I knelt up, throwing my arms around her and squeezing hard. “Thank you,” I whispered into her hair. I cleared my throat, because I was not going to cry on Tom’s mum.

Diana put her hands on my arms, gently pushing me away, her eyes going behind me.

“I think there’s someone who wants his turn…”

Before I could even look his way, Tom had pulled me onto his thighs, wrapping his arms around me tightly and hugging me hard. One hand went into my hair and pulled my face up to his. There were tears in his eyes, and a crooked smile on his lips.

“Yes please, Rocky.”

Then he was kissing me fiercely, and by god, I was giving back, my hands clutching his shirt.

“Ahem…” Diana cleared her throat. I pulled away from Tom long enough to glance round at her.

“But you said I could have him!” I grumbled at her, hiding my elated laugh. Her eyes laughed right back at me.

“Yes dear, but not right now, if you please! I believe I was promised cheesecake!”

***

We put Diana in a cab back to Tom’s for the night, hugs and kisses all around. She even pinched my cheek! Tom and I stood, arms around each other’s waists, waving goodbye to her as she drove off 

“What would you have done if she’d said ‘no’?” Tom’s tone was slyly curious as we made our way back up the stairs to my second floor flat. I blanched.

“Died of humiliation?” Even thinking of the possibility gave me cold shivers. But Tom had slid to his knees next to me.

“What would you have done?” I turned my face up to his, wondering if he’d have gone along with his mum. Tom scowled.

“Rocky, you know I love my mum. But I’d have told her to…” Tom stalled out as he considered his words. I cocked my head, waiting.

“I’d have told her to bugger off,” said the very civilised, posh idiot. I gasped, only then realising that I’d been holding my breath. 

“But Rocky,” Tom stopped before the door to my flat and raised my chin to look into my eyes. “That was never going to happen, my love. Because Mum loves me, and she knows I love you. Also,” he grinned, “Mum likes you. And now she finds you very engaging.”

Well shit. My eyes teared up at least as much from the sentiment as from the pun. I stood on my toes and kissed him.

Tom opened my door and ushered me in, turning to close the door behind us. When he turned back, I pushed him against it, holding him there with a hand in the center of  his chest.

My other hand slid down his torso to the waistband of his trousers, flicking the button open and sliding the zip down, ratcheting slowly.

I stared into his eyes, watching them darken from their Caribbean blue to steel, the creases at the corners of his eyes tightening.

“Rocky…” he breathed.

“Shhh…” I replied, slipping my hand into his trousers to grasp him. The posh idiot never wore pants, which was calculated to make me rethink the ‘posh’ part. Somehow, knowing that he was bare behind that zipper made me hard.

When my hand encountered all that hard, silky steel. Practically leaping into my hand, I could feel my pussy clench in sheer anticipation. I wanted that hard cock inside me, like, yesterday! 

Oh wait. It was inside me yesterday!

I wrapped my hand carefully and firmly around his shaft, my thumb extending over his bell end to protect him from any chance zip or harsh denim scraping against that tender, sensitive tip.

I like that cock. I wasn’t going to allow it to be hurt on my watch! Besides, if it was going to be mine for the rest of my natural life, forsaking all others, it was in my best interest to see to its proper care and feeding!

My hand tightened around him, just thinking what I wanted to feed it into. Tom lifted a hand and set it onto the column of my throat. I swallowed, feeling my throat move against his palm.

Tom’s head was tilted down watching me as I blindly explored his cock with my hand, palming his length and running my fingertips up his shaft, all the way to the edge of his foreskin. I ran my finger around the rim, gently pushing it down and freeing the vulnerable, delicate bit of skin right beneath his cock head.

I lifted my forefinger, dipping it into the drop of precome waiting there for me, dropping down and letting my finger glide around the edge of his foreskin on the slick fluid, being sure to slide over the tender skin of his bell. How can something so soft be so hard?

I think of myself as hard, but I’m soft for Tom. Really, the only thing to do is to make him mine. Thank god he said yes. Or…

“Um…”  I cleared my throat as I continued to glide my finger over him. “You did say yes, didn’t you? I mean, you get that having your mum as my mother-in-law actually entails you marrying me, right?” I lifted my eyes and searched his.

The blue of his eyes softened. His nose nuzzled below my ear.

“I do, Rocky. And yes, I will.”

All the air left my body and my fingers clenched on him, one hand on his chest, my nails digging into his skin, the other around his cock.

Tom hissed, and his hips shot forward into my fist, forcing his cock through the tight ring of my fingers.

“God, Rocky…” he groaned, his hands moving into my hair, thumbs on my jaw as he leaned down to kiss me roughly.

I stroked that silky smooth, incredibly hard length against my palm. Tom tore his mouth away, breaking our kiss and breathing hard. I took my opportunity to slip to my knees in front of him.

“Rocky...you don’t have-” He gasped.

“Tom,” I said sharply, “if you finish that sentence with ‘don’t have to suck my cock’, I might do you an injury!”

I squeezed his shaft, just to be clear what part might be injured.

“Right,” Tom gasped, “carry on, then.” He swallowed audibly hard, his hands clenching in my hair.

I grinned cheekily at him. “Don’t mind if I do!”

I dragged my free hand down his torso, firmly pushing his back against the door. I took a quick swipe at him with my tongue from stalk to tip and grinned up at him.

“I do what I want!”

I wrapped my lips around the head and gave a suck, swirling my tongue tip over and around the head.

I felt Tom’s deep throated groan vibrate through his body and onto my tongue. Stopping for a second, I looked up at him, for once with no quip on the tip of my tongue.

“I love you, Tom.”

Tom’s eyes completely dilated and he thrust into my fist, his cockhead pushing between my lips, and suddenly he was coming against my mouth. 

My hand pumped over his cock, squeezing and pulling his climax from him, licking his come from around my lips and working the rest out in hot ropes onto my neck and chest.

Tom made a tortured noise, his hands clenching in my hair and hips thrusting helplessly. I gentled my hand, holding it still and warm over his softening shaft as he panted above me.

“Rocky…”

I tore my eyes away from the sight softening in my hand and looked up.

“You undo me, my love.”

His hands moved to my arms and lifted me to stand, wrapping his arms and body around me like a loving cloak.

I nuzzled my nose into the patch of hair in the center of his chest.

“Love you, Tom,” I murmured into his skin, speaking directly to his thumping heart. The arms around me tightened.

“Come along. I have something for you.”

“I hope it’s a hot flannel!”

Tom snickered and trod across the room into the kitchen, dragging me to the sink and wetting a tea towel. He wiped us both clean, and tossed the towel on the side.

He’d left his tablet on the table. Pulling a chair out, he sat, tugging me down onto his lap. He reached for the tablet.

I was wondering if he planned to treat me to porn, or puppies. I never know with Tom, which is of course, one of the things I love about him. He swiftly swiped through a few screens and brought up a file.

“Here, what do you think?” He pushed the tablet into my hands and set his chin on my shoulder, looking over me at the screen.

My hand flew to my mouth, fingers trembling over it as I stared down at a page of gorgeous, conflict free, diamond engagement rings.

“I didn’t want to choose one without you, and I honestly didn’t know what sort you’d like, since you never wear rings or other jewelry,” Tom murmured.

My hand dropped down to the partridge in a pear tree necklace Tom had given me on the First Day of Christmas. 

“Except your partridge,” he acknowledged. “But I chose that, so I really have no idea what your taste in jewelry is.

I was speechless as Tom slowly scrolled through several pages of rings, all sorts, my eyes filling as it finally dawned on me that Tom had been planning to ask me, or was at least thinking about it, when a teardrop landed on the screen. His arm stole around my waist as he turned his head and kissed my neck.

I sniffled, slightly embarrassed, and let out a watery laugh.

“What’s funny, love?”

I sniffled again. “I got engaged today, and here you are, making me cry.”

Tom chuckled.

“Though it might just be PMS.” 

Tom lifted his head with a great shout of laughter. “Oh darling, with you it’s probably the entire alphabet!” Tom teased.

He brought up another page, this time with rubies and sapphires and such. My breath caught at a dark red, square cut stone with two smaller, smokey coloured square cut stones set on either side, all swirled about in a fanciful gold setting. It was stunning,

I reached out a finger and touched it. The image changed, showing other angles of the ring.

“Ooh, I like that one!” Tom wriggled a bit under me in his enthusiasm. “You like coloured stones? Unusual settings? So much better than boring old diamonds, don’t you think? Bloody marvelous, aren’t they?”

I nodded, my throat tight. I hadn’t even given any thought to a ring for me, yet. 

“Tom, I must tell you though, it’s unlikely that I’ll wear it much. With my job, my hands are in and out of all sorts of muck…”

“That’s alright then.” Tom hugged me. “There are plenty of times that I can’t wear jewelry on my job, too. On stage or filming, and so forth. We’ll just have to work out a routine for taking them off before going to work, and putting them back on when we get home. Think of it as putting on and taking off your shoes, only in reverse!”

My head spun with all the things that we haven’t talked about. Oh my god, I don’t know how to throw a wedding! Budget, guest list, venue, flowers, bridesmaids, grooms men,  catering, open or closed bar, the dress… the list seemed endless and I knew I was probably forgetting a dozen other things. 

“I guess there’s still loads of things to work out before we do this thing, right?”

“We can take as long as we need,” he soothed, sensing my unease. “And if we want, there are people we can hire who take care of the organisation.” 

“Okay,” I took a deep breath and tried to relax. “As long as you don’t expect me to look like some giant, frothy meringue.” 

“Never,” he laughed. “And if you get one of those dresses with a thousand pearly buttons down the back, expect them to get torn off on the wedding night.”

The idea of being torn out of my wedding dress actually turned me on a little. Is that bad? 

“Oh, you like that idea,” Tom purred. 

“It’s not the worst idea I’ve heard.”

“Well I’ll have to practice,” he told me, his face the picture of sincerity. “We’ll start easy, maybe try ripping a robe off, then we’ll graduate to t-shirts and shirt-shirts and before you know it’ I’ll be ready to destroy your wedding dress in my haste to get to you.” 

“Or,” I said, holding a finger up as I presented my counter argument, “You could just destroy me right now and I’ll wear a white string bikini on the wedding day.” 

“Only if I get to wear white speedos.”

“Fine, but you also need a white bow tie.” 

Imagining literally the worst of the worst white trash wedding was kind of fun. 

“And white flip-flops,” Tom added. 

“What about if we want a winter wedding?” I asked. 

“White wet suits,” he answered without missing a beat. “I’ll draw a string bikini on yours in Sharpie marker pen.”

“And I’ll be sure to outline your English countryside. Very much looking forward to shading in your arse crack.”

That was the remark that made us lose it and we laughed until our sides hurt. 

Eventually we calmed down, with just the occasional giggle reemerging as we lay there. 

“Now correct me if I’m wrong,” Tom purred, “but I believe there was some mention of me destroying you?” 

“Well yes. I’d hate for you to be embarrassed on the wedding night because we hadn’t practised.”

I swear I heard him growl as he pounced on me, his smile positively wolfish. 

Oh dear, I had awoken the beast and now I was doing to pay. 

I shivered in anticipation. 

[d-s-winchester]

Salem

(gif credit to the creator)

Part Six

Master List

Pairing: Misha x OFC Word Count: 1,936 Warnings: None? Language probably A/N: Part six is here ladies and gents! Thank you all so much for your support on this! I know it’s been almost a year since I’ve posted any writing but I thought coming back with one of my favorite fics on the first day of my favorite month of the year would be the best way to do it! As always a HUGE thank you to Nicole (aka @iwantthedean) for betaing this for me, without her this story would never see the light of day. Anyway, feedback for this is awesome! :)

Misha didn’t broach the subject of anything personal with Ophelia over the next few days, even though he desperately wanted to. While he stuck to the subject of his research for the novel and avoided the subject of her personal life, he could see her distancing further and further from him as the days passed. He did receive a respite from his concerns when she invited him over for dinner a few days after she had told him about seeing Christopher, and how her boyfriend had died.

He sat at the island counter in Ophelia’s kitchen, thumbing through the books she had given him to aid his research, but not concentrating much on the content. His mind was dwelling on something in particular, but as he feared that thing could scare Ophelia off, Misha kept his thoughts to himself all through dinner.

“You okay?” Ophelia asked as she cleared the dinner table.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just seem...distant. I don’t know.” She shrugged, taking the stack of plates to the sink.

Misha nodded, though he knew that didn’t really answer her original inquiry. He helped her clear away the rest of the plates and dishes from the dinner table, then waited patiently while she packaged away the leftovers before joining him at the sink. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes while she washed, and Misha dried. Finally, when Misha’s thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone, he broke the silence.

“How would you feel about having dinner with me?” Misha blurted out, sticking a plate in the drying rack.

“We just had dinner,” Ophelia pointed out, frowning.

“No,” Misha chuckled, “I know we did. I mean, not here. Not tonight. At a restaurant or something, on a different night.”

Ophelia was so shocked she fumbled with the plate she was washing, nearly dropping it to the floor. Placing it safely in the sink, Ophelia turned to face him, leaning her elbow on the counter.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Misha Collins?”

“I am,” he smiled.

Ophelia smiled, picked up the plate again, and continued washing it. Though she knew what she wanted to answer, she figured there was no harm done in letting him sweat it out a little while she pretended to think it over.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” she finally said, handing him the freshly washed plate.

“Perfect,” he grinned. Relief flooded both his voice and his features. “How does tomorrow night sound?”

“I think I can make that work.”

They finalized the details of their date as they finished up the dishes; once the kitchen was cleaned up, Misha was able to concentrate on his research. After they both wrapped up a few hours of reading, Ophelia walked him to the door. Misha promised to pick her up promptly at eight o’clock the next evening, then went on his way. He smiled all the way back to the bed and breakfast.

***

Ophelia closed the shop early the next night so she would have plenty of time to prepare for her date with Misha. As she tore through her closet, looking for something to wear, Christine sat on her bed flipping through a magazine. Their quarrel from the day before seemed to have been forgotten, and Ophelia thought that Christine had even accepted that Misha was interested in Ophelia and not Christine.

“How about this?” Ophelia asked, coming out of her walk-in closet in a skin tight black dress.

“Dude, no,” Christine laughed, “you look like a sausage wrapped in cheap lingerie.”

“I should probably just throw this dress out then?” Ophelia chuckled. “I’ve had this since junior year of high school.”

“Yeah, back when you had a body to accommodate it,” Christine pointed out. “You’re thinner than my pinky but you’ve gained some weight since then. Toss it.”

Ophelia nodded and tossed the dress to the side before going back to her closet. A few minutes later she came back out in an empire waist dress made of white lace. The second Christine looked up from the magazine, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

“Lia, yes. You look amazing,” she said, forgetting the magazine and sitting up to face her friend. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear white before. It works for you. You should wear white all the time!”

“You have too seen me in white,” Ophelia laughed. “Senior prom, remember? But are you sure this looks okay? I mean, is it too far out of my comfort zone?”

“Well, tonight is about throwing caution to the wind, right?” Christine asked; Ophelia nodded. “Then I say go for it. Do some simple makeup instead of your usual smoky look, throw on a splash of color with some cute heels, and you’ll be set.”

Ophelia grinned at Christine and clapped her hands in excitement before sitting down at her vanity. While she worked on a makeup look that was natural but didn’t lose the essence of her personality, Christine worked on curling Ophelia’s hair in perfectly tousled waves. At eight o’clock sharp, Ophelia’s doorbell rang. Christine misted her friend’s curls with hairspray one last time.

“You sure I look okay?” Ophelia asked again as she slipped her feet into a pair of bright turquoise pumps.

“You look stunning,” Christine assured her. “Don’t forget to grab that gray sweater, it’s cold out and you’re gonna be sitting outside. Don’t worry, I’ll lock up when I leave.”

“Thank you,” Ophelia grinned, kissing her friend on the cheek, “you’re the best.”

“I try,” Christine giggled as she pushed Ophelia towards the door. “Now, go, have fun! And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Ophelia laughed and waved goodbye to her friend as she made her way down the stairs to meet Misha at the door.

***

When Christine finally arrived at home she was anxiously awaiting the opportunity to have a glass of wine, watch a movie, and head to bed. That was all derailed, however, when she saw Christopher pacing back and forth in her living room.

“I can’t believe you’re letting her go through with this!”

“Well, hello to you, too,” Christine said, dropping her purse on the table near the door. She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes at her brother’s angry greeting.

“You can’t let her get close to him, Chrissy,” Christopher groaned. “How am I ever supposed to get her back if she’s off galavanting with that writer!”

Christopher couldn’t even bring himself to say Misha’s name, and Christine felt bad about the distress Ophelia’s potential new relationship had caused for her brother.

“You need to fix it,” Christopher pleaded. “Ruin their night. I don’t care what you do, but make it so they never want to see each other again.”

“Chris --”

“No, Chrissy,” Christopher argued, “you have to fix it.”

Christine thought for a minute before letting out a sigh and running her fingers through her hair.  “Okay, fine. I don’t like it, but I’m sure there’s something I can do.”

“Thank you!”

Christine assured him that it was no problem and made her way up to her bedroom to search through the grimoire. She knew that Ophelia and Misha would be dining outside, and the best thing she could come up with was making it rain. Though she had an obligation to her brother to try something, Christine genuine didn’t want to ruin Ophelia’s night. The rain wouldn’t force the night to end, but it would move the date inside. Deciding that was a happy medium, Christine cast the spell.

***

As soon as Ophelia and Misha were seated at their table, the clouds poured their contents out onto the town. The rain soaked their hair and clothes as they ran back inside the restaurant; all of Christine’s work on Ophelia’s curls was now in vain. Misha asked for a table inside, but the hostess apologized that all the indoor tables were booked. Determined to make the night work, Misha thanked her. Once safely back in his car, Ophelia pointed him in the direction of another restaurant not too far away.

When they arrived, they were seated quickly and looked over the menus, deciding what they wanted to eat. After placing their order and receiving their drinks, Misha smiled at Ophelia, letting out a relieved breath that they were finally settled on their date.

“You look amazing,” he stated, “white is a good color for you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, blushing slightly, “you don’t look so bad yourself. That shirt really brings out the blue in your eyes.”

“Really?” he chuckled, “I just threw it together. Wasn’t expecting to go on any dates while I’m here.”

“Well, it works.”

It wasn’t long before their food was brought out. Despite their evenings spent together at her house, Ophelia had found herself concerned that their conversation would only revolve around the bookstore and witchcraft lore, but she was pleasantly surprised that the conversation seemed to cover anything but. She was so distracted by the conversation that it wasn’t long after their food was brought to the table when she spilled her red wine on her stark white dress. Misha practically leapt over the table to help her clean it up, but she assured him it would be fine. The dry cleaner could get the stain out.

They made it through dinner without any more mishaps and, deciding not to chance their bad luck, Misha drove Ophelia home. They didn’t have to call it a night, but maybe it was better to be home. Halfway to her house, the car seemed jolted violently; Misha pulled off to the side of the road. Ophelia sat in the passenger seat patiently as he assessed the situation.

“I’ve got a flat,” he explained, opening the driver side door, “give me a minute and we’ll be ready to go.”

“Need help?”

“You know how to change a flat?”

“I’m a woman, I’m not useless,” she laughed.

“Then yes, I would love your help,” he grinned.

It took them almost half an hour to change the tire in the pouring rain, but once it was fixed, they made it safely back to Ophelia’s house. Misha parked his car in front of the modest-sized Cape Cod and got out, opening the car door for her. Rain pounded the ground around them as they made way up to her front steps.

“So, this date turned out to be somewhat of a disaster. I apologize,” Misha laughed.

“Don’t,” Ophelia chuckled, “it was perfect.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Am I … crossing boundaries here?”

“You’re not,” she assured him, wrapping her arms around his neck in return. “Despite the rain, wine spil,l and flat tire, I had a wonderful time tonight, Misha. Really”

“Me too,” he agreed.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers as the rain continued to fall around them. When they finally broke apart, Ophelia smiled up at him.

“We should do this again.”

“Absolutely,” Misha grinned.

“I’ll see you at the shop tomorrow?” she asked, hope edging each syllable.

“Definitely.”

Ophelia took a chance and pushed herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. She smiled as she pulled away. “I’ll see you at the shop tomorrow. Thank you again, Misha, for an amazing night.”

“Anytime,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss her again. He couldn’t get enough.

He watched her walk into the house, giving her a small wave as she walked inside, then walked back to his car, hoping for an uneventful drive back to the bed and breakfast.  

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Fate (c.e.) (5/6)

Chapter Five- Chance

Pairing: Professor!Chris Evans x Student!OFC

Word count: 4.2k

Summary: fate (noun): the development of events beyond a person’s control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power. (verb): be destined to happen, turn out, or act in a particular way.

Amara is about to start her senior year of college with her newly single best friend, Elizabeth. She goes out one night and meets a handsome stranger, Chris. Sparks fly. Fast forward a week and she finds out Chris is her professor. What happens when she also meets Sebastian, a cute guy from another one of her classes?

Series masterlist

The weeks go by and Sebastian has been the best boyfriend I could have ever asked for. He does everything right. He texts me cute quotes that make him think of me, he sent me flowers and sweets when my time of the month came, he picks Lizzie and me up on the mornings we all have class at the same time, he brings us food twice a week as we have binge-watching sessions at our place, he gets along with Lizzie so well they’ve quickly become besties, and so much more. He isn’t clingy, he’s considerate, he’s a perfect gentleman… He’s literally perfectly.

Then why do I look forward to when he leaves so I can be alone?

How crappy of a human being am I to not want to be with my boyfriend?

I was hoping as time went on, I would grow to love him; that the more time I spent with him I would get over what is holding me back… No such luck.

My favorite part of my day is when I go to his class. It’s like an escape. It’s a place I can forget what’s out there waiting for me. I’ve actually stayed the entire class time now, just to keep to myself for a little while longer… and shamelessly stare at him.

Every day I swear he gets more beautiful. His golden brown hair is always slicked back, begging to be messed up. His ensembles leave nothing to the imagination. His torso is the perfect “V,” giving into his lean waist which is always wrapped in excellent fitting slacks, contrary to their name.

I was doing fine keeping my distance, only looking and not touching, until he made the announcement:

“The sign-up sheet for Mid-term meetings is now up on the class page. Please make your appointments as soon as you possibly can. Meetings will start on Friday. I look forward to seeing how you’ve all improved within the last few weeks.”

Crap. I had totally forgotten about the mid-term meeting. I can’t be alone with him again, as much as I want to be. This time we have to be completely professional. We need to talk about his class and nothing else. We cannot have a repeat of our last meeting.

I complain about it when Lizzie and I got back to our apartment. I didn’t want to mention it in front of Sebastian for obvious reasons. “What do you think I should do? Wait until the last possible appointment or rip the band-aid off and just get it over with?” I ask hoping she could help make my decision.

She sighs, “As much as I want to tell you what you should do, you’ve got to make this decision on your own.” She pats my shoulder before retreating to her room. I go to mine and fall on my bed.

I log onto the class page to look at the appointment times available. Surprisingly and disappointingly, I didn’t see my name anywhere on the schedule this time. I guess he learned his lesson from the first time. I stare at the schedule, hoping the answer will come to me.

My phone dings, signaling a new email. I pull it up on my laptop, shocked at what I find.

“Miss Remington, You do not have to make an appointment, if you do not wish to. Your submissions have been flawless, needing no improvements. Just continue to turn in something every class and you will receive an A at end of term.                                                                    -C”

I stare at the email, disappointment flowing through me. Does he not want to see me? Has he moved on from me? Has he gotten back together with her? There could be no other reason for this email. I refuse to believe my submissions have been “flawless.” There is always room for improvements. Always.

My thoughts were interrupted again by my phone dinging. I click back to my inbox to see another email from him. “But please do…” was all it said. My heart rate picked up, tossing all of my previous thoughts out the window. He could have just left it at the first email, but no. He felt sending those last three words were necessary to convey how he feels. He wants to see me outside of the classroom setting as much as I want to see him again.

Well that answers my original dilemma. I checked the schedule for Friday and decided on the last appointment for that day, but I didn’t put my name down for it. I didn’t want him to know or think he was the reason why I scheduled it. I’ll keep an eye on it all week to see if anyone officially snags it. I closed my laptop with a hopeful feeling I haven’t had for a very long time. 

Wednesday came and Robert called me and Lizzie to see if we could bartend and waitress, claiming all of them are sick and he’s on vacation. Robert hired Lizzie and me as hostesses when we started school, eventually we were promoted to waitresses. Then when we turned 21, we dabbled in bartending. He gave us off for this last year so we could focus on finishing, but we told him we would help out if he was in dire need. He tells me this is one of those instances. We happily agree knowing it was going to be a slow night and it’d be easy money. We were right. Only regulars and a couple stragglers came in making for a stress-free evening. We always enjoy the witty banter we have with the regulars. They give us grief for not being there anymore, claiming the other bartenders don’t make their drinks as good as we do. They toast to my internship but complain that I won’t be there for entertainment. There really is no pleasing them. I just shake my head at them. Overall the night was enjoyable…

Until he walked in.

“Amara?” He says when he sees me. “I didn’t know you worked here.” He takes a seat at the bar in front of me.

“Yep.” I start wiping off the sticky bottles, trying to appear busy. “I have for a few years now. Gotta pay bills somehow.” I continue not looking at him while I ask what he’d like. I grab him a beer and put in his food order.

“Will you please look at me?” He quietly asks when there’s a lull in the night.

“I’m working.”

“That means you can’t look at me?” He asks a little louder.

“I’m busy. What do you want me to do? Ignore all of my other customers because you’re here?” I move to the computer so I can put in my tips from the night.

“Take a look around, Amara.”

I don’t need to in order to know that he’s the only one left at the bar. Lizzie has two tables left. She’s off at a different table rolling silverware and eyeing us every few seconds. This is typical for this time of night. With us closing in half an hour, everyone is mostly gone by now. Last call was made and everyone for the kitchen and alcohol so now all that is left is to start cleaning up.

“I’m well aware.” I don’t take my eyes off the screen, trying to show indifference. Even though all I want to know is why he’s here. Why did he decide to come in tonight of all nights? What are the freaking chances that he would choose to come here on the first night I’ve worked in weeks?

He begs, “Then can you please talk to me?”

“What is there to say?” I blurt exasperated. I finally look at him. God he’s gorgeous. Seeing him in casual clothes instead of the usual button-up, dress pants, and tie. Just like the first time I saw him. His normal gelled hair has lost some of its sturdiness, looking soft enough to still run my fingers through. Now that I see him up close he looks tired. Slight bags have formed under his eyes. Have the past few weeks exhausted him? Or was this recent? “We’re still in the same situation as before; nothing has changed. You’re still you and I’m still me. How many times are we going to have this conversation before we realize we don’t have a chance in hell?”

“It’s time to go, Mr. Evans.” Lizzie steps in, seeing how emotional I’m starting to get. She knows I wouldn’t walk away from this conversation without getting hurt. She’s being a really good friend.

He wanted to protest but now that Lizzie has stepped in, he knows it’s over now. When he started to reach for his wallet, I told him not to worry about it before escaping to the back. It didn’t feel right taking his money especially right now.

“Are you okay?” She asks after he leaves, but quickly answers her own question, “Stupid question. Of course you’re not. Go home. I’ll close up.” I repeatedly ask if she’s sure as she shoos me out, telling me not to worry and to go home and rest. It’s a good thing we came separately otherwise I would have to come back for her. 

As soon as I left the bar, all I wanted to do was go home and go to bed. All of my energy was drained from trying to avoid him and then that conversation… I was not prepared to have a conversation like that with him. Is this all our conversations will ever entail? The fact that we can’t be together even though we want to? That’s pointless and disappointing. I know we can talk about other things. We have. I honestly don’t think we could again until we resolve our main issue. And it’s truly too bad because I know how engaging our conversations can be. But since that first night, all but one of our interactions have been about us and our inappropriate feelings for each other. I can’t stand it.

“Amara…” His voice fills the quiet parking lot. I turn to see he didn’t actually leave. He was sitting on a bench just outside the building. It’s meant to be a designated smoke spot for the bar. However since no one is currently using it for that purpose, he’s using it.

“Chris, can we please not do this? I’m tired, I stink, and I just want to go home.”

He stands from the bench and approaches me. “I won’t keep you. I just had to say something.” Before I could register what he was doing, he kisses me. It was quick, but still stole my breath away. He rests his forehead on mine with his eyes still closed, “I believe if we gave us a chance, we could be something great.” He takes a deep breath, pulling back slightly to look at me. “You might not think so right now and that’s fine,” he takes my hands in his, locking his bloodshot blue eyes with mine, “but I’m not going anywhere. I will wait as long as it takes because that’s how much I believe in this, in us.” His hand caresses my cheek after placing some of my hair behind my ear. He smiles gently. “So, take your time. You’re worth all of the time in the world.” With that, he walks away. He leaves me confused, flustered, and wanting so much more.

I go back in the bar to see Lizzie standing there with the mop. “What’d he say?” She asks knowing exactly what just happened. My confusion, now for her, caused her to answer my unspoken question, “I told him to wait for you outside.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because Remi, I saw how you looked at him. You have never looked at Sebastian that way; you’ve never looked at anyone like that before. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.” She gives me the “you know I’m right” look, ceasing my forming argument. I know it would be pointless to deny it. Because of that, I stay quiet. “So, I told him to go outside and wait for you around the corner if he had any more to say. Obviously he said something so incredible that you came back in here to tell me, instead of waiting until I came home later.” She jutted out her hip, resting her fist on it. “So I will ask again: what did he say?”

“All of the right things.” I confess, hoping she understands what I’m getting at. She sighs and nods. She knew what I had to do. So did I. It wasn’t going to be easy, but hopefully the end result will be worth it.

“I kinda knew this was coming.” Sebastian says when I see him the next day. I didn’t even really have to say anything. I apologize because I know it wasn’t fair to him; because he doesn’t deserve this. “I’m surprised we lasted as long as we did.” He notes, taking all of this surprisingly well. “I could tell things were different from the start.”

“I’m so sorry. I wanted things to be different. I wanted it to work so badly, but-”

“But we’re obviously better off as friends.” He finishes seemingly on the same page.

“I truly hope we can still be friends because I do enjoy your company.” I know it’s one of the most cliché things to say during a break-up but in this case it’s true.

“Just not as your boyfriend.” He adds smirking.

“I really am sorry.” I apologize again. I worried about how he was going to take this all night. I didn’t know if he would be angry because I wasted his time or accuse me of having feelings for someone else… to which then I would tell him the truth. But I was most afraid he would be confrontational, making this even harder. However, I also knew that wasn’t his style. He doesn’t get angry. He is very level-headed about things that make him upset. My fear of confrontation was overriding my rational thinking.

“It’s honestly alright. I don’t regret anything. I would love if we could still hang out.” He smiles at me without any trace of hostility. “Besides, who else am I going to watch Gilmore Girls with? I need to find out if Luke and Lorelai end up together or not.”

And just like that, I had a new best friend. I may have lost my boyfriend but he’s right. We are obviously better as friends.

“Will you just tell me one thing?” He asks when I get up to leave. I nod. “Do you think we would have had a better chance if we met first?”

I shrug, “I don’t know.” He nods. “I wish I could give you an answer but I can’t.”

He nods again then smiles. I lean down, kissing his cheek. “You deserve the world,” I whisper.

“So do you.” He whispers back. “Now go get him.” He chuckles. “And if he hurts you, I will not hesitate to kick his ass.”

I giggle at his threat. “I would expect nothing less.”

Despite Sebastian’s go-ahead, I couldn’t make the leap. Not right away at least. I’ve tried to stay away from jumping from one relationship to another. It was a habit I had in high school I never wanted to go back to. So, I waited. It killed me, but I did. Lizzie and Sebastian never failed to gang up on me, pushing me to talk to him and tell him. They had become quite the pair, more so after we broke up. They’re favorite activity was banding against me when it came to deciding anything. My favorite was when they were on opposite ends of the spectrum and they would turn to me to break the tie. That was when I got my payback, vetoing their choices and going for my own.

For weeks, I kept my feelings to myself, counting down the days until the final class, a.k.a. when he is no longer my professor. As much as I wanted to be with him, I didn’t want it to be while he was my teacher. When I finally confess to him how I feel, I don’t want there to be any complications. Waiting until the very last day was the only time to do it. The “when” and the “what” were decided. All that was left was the “how.” How was I going to tell him? I don’t just want to say it outright. I voiced my thoughts to Lizzie and Sebastian to see if they would have any ideas.

“Dude.” Sebastian quirks his eyebrow at me. He gave Lizzie a look.

“He’s right.” She speaks as if reading his mind. “You’re a writer. Use it.”

With their encouragement, I began the painstaking journey of trying to write down how I felt about him. However it proved to be more difficult than anticipated. How do you write down that is indescribable? I tried multiple times, but nothing could accurately describe how he makes me feel. So instead of feelings, I focused on words. I ran over all of the conversations we’ve had. Slowly something came together. By my deadline, I had the perfect last entry to give him. I even let Lizzie read it. She swooned.

“Do you think he will get the message?” I skeptically ask. I included a secret message into the letter. I haven’t figured out if it was a good or bad idea yet.

She snorts, “If I can figure it out, so can he.”

So here we are. The last day of class. Since he doesn’t give tests, there will be no formal final. Just one last entry to turn in that we don’t mind not getting back, He handed back to each of us a manila folder with all of our submissions and an evaluation sheet containing our final grade. Once the last student had theirs, he stood in the middle of the front.

“I want to thank all of you for making my first semester here one to remember. You all have bright futures ahead of you. I can’t wait to see your names in print someday.” He beams with pride as he glances around the room. “You’ve made me very proud.” His eyes lock with mine. “Thank you for changing my life.” He returns his attention back to the rest of the class. “Alright, that’s all I have. You have the rest of the time to complete your last entry. I only have one request: make it special.”

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone got to work. No one came prepared with something at his request. I of course ignored that but stayed regardless. I wanted to be the last one out. I had special instructions for him and didn’t want anyone else around to hear them. To pass the time, I read and re-read my letter to him, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb to make sure it was perfect.

I sneak a glimpse at the man who stole my heart to see he was already looking at me.

He holds up a sheet of paper: “Final after this?” I smile at the reference to our first class. I shake my head just as I had that day. With my next final not until 2, I’ve got plenty of time. He immediately flips the page over to reveal his pre-written answer: “Be the last one out.” I nod once before turning my attention back to my letter. Now more than before I was excited to give it to him. My only fear was he wouldn’t understand my hidden message.

It was an hour and a half before we were the last two in the room.

“I’m getting a sense of déjà vu.” I comment when the door closes.

“Except you’re not crying this time.” He points out with a smirk on his gorgeous face. I chuckle remembering the day like it was yesterday. He comes to sit on the step right next to my aisle seat.

“As soon as I hand you this,” I clench the piece of paper in between my fingers, “you’re no longer my professor.”

“Finally.” He whispers under his breath.

“I just have one request.” He nods. “You wait until 4 to read it.” He starts to protest. “You have to promise me you won’t even peek at it until 4 o’clock on the dot.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He then runs his hands over his face, sighing, “I will be thinking about it all damn day.”

I giggle, putting away my other stuff. “That was kind of the point.” As we stand up, I hand him my paper. He keeps his eyes on mine as he took possession of it. I can tell how badly he wants to look down. I hold out my pinkie. “Promise me.” He intertwines his pinkie with mine, sealing his promise to me. With that, I leave the classroom.

I don’t see Lizzie or Sebastian until 4 when all of our finals are finished for the day. By then I have half an hour to go home and get ready for tonight. I have to be at the bar before 5. If all goes according to plan, it could be a night to remember. In case something goes wrong, I have Liz and Seb as back-ups. I just hope nothing goes awry. They wish me good luck while pushing me out the door.

As I pull up to Robert’s, I head in to give whoever is working the bar the low-down on what is going to happening. Thankfully, it was Robert so I know he’ll be thrilled to help.

“Oh that guy who comes in every Wednesday? He’ll for sure be here.” He says this like it’s not a big deal when in fact, it is. “He comes in here hoping to see you.”

“So you had me work on a Wednesday night knowing he would be here?” I’m in shock. I’m flabbergasted. He purposely asked me to work on the one night he knew Chris would be looking for me. “Were the other bartenders even sick?”

He only chuckles before returning to his job. Well that’s my answer. “What do you need me to do?”

“Clear out?” I give him a hopeful smile knowing how big my request is. I’m putting all of my faith in his soft spot for me.

He sighs, “He means that much to you?”

I nod. “I honestly think he could.”

“Alright,” He sighs again, “but you’ll owe me big time.” Just like in the movies, he shouts that the bar is closed and all of their food and drinks are on him for the night. Before the chef leaves, he makes two Skippy burgers and two orders of deep fried green beans for us, wishing me luck.

From there, I wait. I wait on the exact bar stool where sparks flew while walls came tumbling down. That night replays in my mind as if it had just happened: the way the conversation between us flowed as if we had known each other all of our lives instead of a mere hour; how being around him felt like the most natural thing in the world; everything about him made me feel like we were meant to be in each other’s lives… he made me feel like I was home. I held onto that feeling as I eagerly await his arrival.

To keep my mind from completely freaking out, I take out my notebook to continue writing in my story. Oddly enough it’s the same story I was writing in three months ago. I dive right in, zoning out everything else around me.

“Whatchya writin’?”

I have to bite my lip to keep myself calm. He figured it out. He’s here. I meet his beautiful baby blues. He smirks at me from the next seat over, exactly where he was the first time I saw him. He dawns more formal wear this time though. His classroom vest and tie combo is removed, leaving the white button-up and adding a jacket. He looks just as gorgeous, if not even more so, than the first time. My heart smiles knowing he is here. He kept his word.

“Just jotting down all of the ways I could fall in love with everyone in this bar and make it last forever…” And I plan on making that come true…

He gets off his stool, coming up to me spinning my stool to face him. He steps between my legs, locking eyes with me. “Oh yeah? What are some of those ways?”

I slightly exaggerate a gasp, “A true romantic never reveals their methods.” He quirks his eyebrow at me. “But how about I show you instead?”

“Deal.”

He brings his lips to mine as if welcoming them back to where they belong. Because they do. We belong together. He belongs with me and I to him. I know that. I accept that now. There’s nothing holding us back anymore… and I believe that’s how fate would have had it.

Chapter Six- Fate

Permanent taglist: @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @naniky

[justthehiddleswrites]

Destiny Has Other Plans |Loki x OFC (Alexis Randall) | Chapter 2

Pairing: Loki x OFC

MASTERLIST IS HERE

Summary: When Loki goes to ask his father for permission to marry, he is shocked to discover his destiny has already been made for him.  He is already betrothed to Sjofn, the daughter of the King of Vanaheim.  An arranged marriage to bring the two kingdoms closer together and strengthen the bond.  Never mind that Sjofn and Loki can’t stand each other.  

After The Battle of New York, Loki is sent to live at Avengers Tower as punishment for his misdeeds.  But it doesn’t mean he has to like it.   A year later, he has adjusted to life on Midgard but has avoided any romantic or emotional entanglements, still bitter over his lost love.  Dr. Alexis Randall is skilled at helping others fix their relationships as a couple therapist, but can’t help her own love life.  A chance encounter with Loki in a dive bar has life altering consequences for both of them.  Now, Alexis and Loki must figure out a way to co-habit without killing each other in the process, plus navigating impending parenthood and other roadblocks along the way.

This Chapter:   One month has passed since Alexis and Loki “met” at the bar, Loki has moved on but is confronted with harsh reality of Alexis and the consequences of his cavalier attitude towards relationships, hookups, and birth control. He does not react well.

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Angst,  Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of law enforcement, Oral Sex, Cursing, Vaginal Sex

Taglists are Open, please let me know if you wish to be added.

-

One Month Later

“Dr. Randall?” Rachel, Alexis’s receptionist, called out.

Alexis’s head snapped up from her desk, where she fell asleep between appointments.

“Yes?” She smoothed back her hair behind her ears and took a sip of her third cup of coffee of the day.

“Your 2 o’clock is here. The Masons? Can I show them in?” Rachel gazed at her boss with worry. Alexis never napped during the day and stopped drinking caffeine by 11 a.m.

“Yes, please.” Alexis stifled a yawn before composing herself.

The rest of her appointments dragged and she pushed her last appointment out the door rather than allow the Clarks to linger like they do after most sessions. Alexis wanted nothing more to go home and crawl into bed. And then her phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered with a weary tone.

“Tough day?” Hannah asked on the other end. One of Alexis’s few friends.

“I am so tired. And hungry. Tired and hungry.” she groaned.

“Well then, let’s make dinner a quick one. You are still meeting me?”

“Shit! I completely forgot. I don’t understand what is going on with me. Give me five minutes and meet me at the diner down the street?”

“Deal. I’m already almost there. Meet me inside.”

Alexis straightened her desk, grabbed her purse and headed out the door. Hannah was waiting in a booth inside as she slid in.

“I waited for you to order.” Hannah commented.

On cue, the server appeared.

“I’ll have the mac and cheese bites and the bacon cheeseburger with fries.”

The server wrote everything down, nonplussed, while Hannah stared at her friend. “Anything to drink, hun?”

“Strawberry milkshake. Oh, and a Diet Coke.”

“Got it? And you?” The server turned to Hannah.

“House salad with grilled chicken, dressing on the side. And water with lemon.”

“Thanks, hun.” The server grabbed the menus from Hannah, walking away.

Hannah leaned across the table. “That’s some order.”

“I told you I was hungry.” Alexis settled into her seat.

“If I didn’t know you so well, I would say you’re pregnant.” Hannah commented off hand.

Alexis froze, staring at Hannah with wide eyes. Hannah giggled.

“But Eric broke up with you and you’re always so careful with birth control.”

The blood drained from Alexis’s face as she flashed back to that stupid encounter in the bathroom with Loki. She scrambled through her purse, digging out her Filofax, flipping the pages until she saw the note a few weeks ago.

“Fuck! No, no, no, no, no…” She cradled her head in her hands as the server returned with their drinks.

“But you’re on birth control?” Hannah grew quiet.

“I was having some issues, so on advice of my doctor I stopped before trying an alternative. Eric and I were using condoms. Not that we were having sex at the end.”

“So no problem…” Alexis glared at her friend with tear brimmed eyes. Hannah stopped speaking.

Alexis’s hands twisted on top of the table. “There was an… encounter. When Eric and I broke up.”

Hannah let loose a low whistle. “Who would have guessed that uptight little Alexis was secretly a harlot? Details.”

Alexis’s cheeks burned red. She told the sordid tale of meeting Loki at the bar, to sex in the bathroom, and Loki’s disappearance.

“THE BATHROOM?!” Hannah yelped, wrinkling her nose.

Alexis shushed her. “Not my proudest moment, Hannah. And keep your voice down.”

Hannah leaned back against the red vinyl booth, taking in that Alexis, the most dependable, responsible person she knew, fucked a guy. Not just any guy, but Loki in the bathroom of a seedy bar.

“Say something, Hannah.”

“I am in shock. What are you going to do?”

The server appeared with their food, which they left untouched.

“I am not sure. This was not exactly planned.”

Hannah leaned over and flipped through her Filofax. “Nope, definitely not planned.”

“Your humor is not wanted right now.”

Hannah shrugged. “Just trying to lighten the mood.” She stabbed her salad. “First, you need to eat and then let’s find a pharmacy and get a test.”

Alexis pushed her plate towards Hannah. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

Hannah pushed the plate back at her. “Eat. You might be eating for two.”

Alexis groaned.

-

The annoying chime of JARVIS disturbed Loki’s peaceful lunch within the confines of his apartment. Over the past year, he curated a living space he enjoyed with artwork and textiles that brought him joy. What he didn’t enjoy were the intrusions by Stark’s electronic butler.

“Master Loki. There’s a young woman in the lobby asking to see you.”

Loki placed his utensils down. “Did she give a reason?”

A pause.

“It is of a personal nature.”

Loki waved his hand in the air. “Send her away. Tell her I’m indisposed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Loki returned to his lunch. It was probably one of the women he slept with looking for a serious relationship, he mused. That was one thing Loki was not interested in. Lust, not love, ruled his heart these days. And he had no intentions of changing his ways anytime soon.

The next morning JARVIS chimed again, at the hour of 7 a.m. well before Loki woke up on days where he wasn’t due anywhere.

“Master Loki, the woman is back. She is most insistent she needs to speak with you.”

Loki groaned, rolling onto his back. “Leave me be!”

“Should I send her away?”

“Yes.” Loki grabbed the pillow and covered his head, falling back asleep.

The morning wake up call was gone and forgotten as soon as Loki got going for this day. Until he headed out that evening, walking through the empty lobby of Avengers Towers on his way to hopefully meet a new conquest.

“LOKI!” A female voice called out.

Loki turned to see a young woman step out from behind a pillar. Her short, light brown hair and blue eyes vaguely familiar.

“The building’s been closed for hours. How are you even still here?”

“I hid in a supply closet.”

“I shall tell Stark his security is lacking.” He turned his attention to the girl. “You need to leave.”

“No,” She pressed her hand against his chest. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

Loki crossed his arms, tapping his foot. “What is it?” He spat at her.

Her composure crumbled. Loki only then noticed the tears in her eyes and the envelope in her hands.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she muttered. “Of course not. Why would you? Here.” She shoved the envelope in his hand. “I thought you had a right to know.” She walked away, shoulders shaking. “And in case you fucking care, my name is Alexis, ass!”

The name triggered Loki’s memory back to the Whiskey Front Room. He opened the envelope and it contained a single sheet of paper with lab results.

Pregnancy Test: Positive

Loki stared at the door where Alexis exited a minute ago and then back at the paper before laughing. His plans of going out forgotten. He followed her, his long legs catching with Alexis easily.

“Is this some sort of joke?” He called out after her.

She stopped in tracks before spinning on her foot. Black trails of mascara marred her cheeks. “Does it look like I’m fucking joking?!” She snapped, spitting towards him.

Loki took a step back before smiling. He handed the paper back to her. “It’s a false positive. It is impossible.”

Alexis shoved it back at him. “I took three home tests, and that is a copy of my lab results. Do you realize how rare a false positive pregnancy test from a lab is?”

Loki wrinkled his nose. “No. But it’s a mistake.” He nodded his head. “I cast a spell to prevent this thing from happening. So your little scheme isn’t going to work. What is it you want? Money? I don’t have any.”

Alexis jabbed a finger into his chest. “You can drop the condescending tone. I am not here for money or anything else. I just thought you should know… in case you ever wondered if you had a kid out there. You do.” She sniffled.

Alexis slumped her shoulders and walked away. Loki reached out for her.

“Listen, I still don’t believe it, but I can’t have you leaving until we straighten this out.”

“You want me to stay… with… you?” Alexis stuttered. “No fucking way! You just called me a liar.”

“I said it was an impossibility, which is. I’m afraid you need to come with me. Just for one night. You can stay in my quarters.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“I wasn’t asking. You can sleep in the bed and I will take the sofa.” Alexis crossed her arms and stared at Loki. “If you try to leave, I will forcibly return you to the tower. I prefer you coming willingly. I apologize for the inconvenience, but if what you say is true, you may be in danger.”

Alexis’s jaw dropped. “Why would my life be in danger?”

“I have many enemies. Now come.” Loki cradled his arm around her.

“Okay, but we are discussing this whole enemies, life in mortal danger thing some more once we get back.”

Loki nodded. “After we have the doctor examination tomorrow and she confirms you are not pregnant, I will answer all questions you want. But for now, let’s return.” Loki’s confidence Alexis was not pregnant faltered each time he mentioned it. There was no way his magic failed. But something itched at the back of his head. He pushed it away.

Alexis allowed Loki to guide her back to the Tower and into the elevator. Once they reached his quarters, he disappeared into the bedroom.

“Here are some clothes to sleep in.” He offered a t-shirt and shorts of his. “They might be a little big. I could ask around if you want—”

“No!” She yelled, causing Loki to smile. “The shirt and shorts are fine.” Alexis snatched them out of Loki’s hand.

Loki nodded in agreement. “Are you hungry? I can cook or order something in?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I just want to sleep and get this over with so I can return to my normal life.”

He rose and grabbed a spare pillow and blanket from a closet. “If you are up before me, please wake me. The sooner we settle this, the sooner you can get on with your life.”

He stretched onto the couch and Alexis’s heart sunk. She wasn’t sure why, perhaps she expected more from Loki than indifference. A hint he cared for the unborn child she carried. She turned over and settled in for a restless night’s sleep in a strange bed.

-

“Brother… Brother…” Thor whispered, shaking Loki out of his slumber.

“What is it, Thor?” He waved off further assault from his brother.

“There is a woman wearing your clothes asleep in your bed.”

“And that requires assault? Have you never seen a woman before?” Loki rolled over, hoping to catch more sleep before facing the nightmare of Alexis and this impossible pregnancy.

“I am still responsible for you here on Midgard, Loki. And I have a right—”

“—You have no right to my personal life!” Loki sneered. “There are things that are mine and mine only. Now leave me be!”

Thor held his hands up in defeat. “Fair enough. But when you are ready to talk… I am here.”

“A small comfort.” Loki forced a smile.

Alexis stepped out, wearing Loki’s t-shirt, which came down to her mid thigh. “What’s going on?” She rubbed her eyes, hair sticking out.

“My brother was just leaving.” Loki rose and shoved Thor out the front door before he could ask questions of Alexis.

She pursed her lips as Loki turned and chuckled nervously.

“So… does anyone know about me?”

“Not yet. I would prefer to keep this between us until we settle things.”

“They’re already settled for me.” she muttered, tucking her chin to her chest.

Loki’s face softened. “Forgive me for being a skeptic. My magic has never failed me before.”

“Maybe you wanted it to fail.”

“Why would I want it to fail?” Loki squinted at her.

She shrugged her shoulders and smirked. “Maybe you like me.”

“I’m not looking for emotional entanglement. And I am certainly not looking to be a father.” Loki moved to the kitchen to fix some coffee and a light breakfast.

“Doesn’t mean you don’t need it.” Alexis moved to watch Loki in the kitchen. She marveled at the efficiency of his movements. No wasted energy, no extraneous steps. This was a man who pre-planned every aspect of his life. No mistakes, no room for error. Until her.

“Can I have some of that?” She asked as Loki fixed a caramel mocha.

Not as good as the one from the coffee shop, but it sufficed for days when he couldn’t be bothered to leave the Tower. He invested in a top of the line espresso machine for just such purpose.

He sized her up with a questioning glance but prepared a second serving and handed it to her. “Dr. Cho is expecting us at 8. Are you hungry?”

“Famished.” She sipped the coffee after blowing on it to cool, it verged on too sweet for her tastes.

Loki rummaged into the fridge. “I have eggs or… eggs.”

“Eggs, please. Scrambled.”

Loki prepared the eggs as he did the coffee, meticulously.

“I’m glad you don’t fuck the way you cook.” Alexis mused, taking small sips of the sweet coffee.

“Meaning?” He tucked into his eggs, adding buttered toast to both his and Alexis’s plate.

“Precise. Cold. Clinical. Sex should be messy.”

Loki couldn’t resist a smirk. “Isn’t that how we ended up here?”

“Touche. Do I have time to shower before I get poked and prodded to satisfy you that I am pregnant?”

Loki glanced at the clock. “Use whatever you want. If you would prefer, wear one of my shirts rather than your clothes from yesterday.”

“Thanks.”

Loki finished up his food and cleaned up the dishes and his bedding off the couch. Alexis emerged with wet hair, wearing one of Loki’s black button-down shirts, tied at the waist, the top buttons undone. Loki swallowed hard.

“You said I could borrow one.”

“It’s fine. You look good. Give me a few moments and we can go.”

Loki showered and dressed for the day in jeans and a t-shirt, joining Alexis in the living room. “Ready?”

She nodded, and Loki took her hand. He glanced down the hallway before slinking them out and towards the elevator. He froze a voice called out.

“Is this a walk of shame?” Tony commented.

Alexis turned bright red as Loki pulled her close. “Go to the elevator and wait for me.” She mumbled and walked away.

“No need to be embarrassed. She’s cute. Kind of quiet. Frankly, I was wondering.” Tony smirked at Loki.

Loki resisted the bait. “She is just a friend in need of some help. Once she is settled, you’ll never see her again and you can go back to speculating.”

“Whatever, Reindeer Games. Seems like an awful lot of trouble for a friend… wearing your shirt.” Tony averted his gaze.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Now if you excuse me, I have a previous engagement.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Tony called out as Loki beelined for Alexis, who was holding the elevator.

“Was that Tony Stark?” Alexis whispered once the elevator doors closed and Loki punched in the number.

“Unfortunately, yes. But once we confirm you���re not pregnant, you won’t have to worry about him.”

Alexis grew quiet. “Still convinced this is a mistake?”

“I’m never wrong and my magic never fails.”

One hour later, Dr. Cho pulled Loki aside.

“She is pregnant.”

Loki chuckled, which turned into nervous laughter. “You must be joking. There’s no way—”

“I did two blood tests and an ultrasound. I heard the baby’s heartbeat.”

Loki’s jaw dropped. “But my magic—”

“—failed. Now you can either accept reality or live a life of delusion. Right now there is a young woman in there who is scared and you calling her a liar is not going to help. I am going back in there. Are you coming with me?”

Loki nodded in shock and followed Dr. Cho back into the examination room. Alexis’s eyes met Loki’s with fear, the tears threatening to fall with a blink of her eye or a swipe of her hand.

Loki smiled a crooked smile at her and sighed. “I guess we need to talk.”

[soybeantree]

be careful what you wish for - pt. 4

excerpt: “’Are you feeling alright, hyung?“ JB asked, eying her. Hyung? Why was he calling her, hyung? “Like I said we’re leaving in 10 minutes. You need to be ready.” He eyed her again before walking back out, closing the door behind him. What the hell was going on? She ran a hand threw her hair and nearly screamed. Her hair was gone! She jumped out of the bed and nearly tumbled over. Her body felt awkward, and she had to focus on moving her legs as she made her way to the bathroom. She flicked on the light, and this time she did scream. “What the-” She clamped a hand over her mouth. That wasn’t her voice. That wasn’t her face staring back at her. Hyung made sense now. JB only had one Hyung in Got7. Mark.”

pairing: erm…ofc/mark, ofc/jinyoung, markjin…kind of parts: o1 | o2 | o3 | o5 | epilogue genre/rating: LITERALCRACK! fluff. word count: 3k+ a/n: these wonderful markjin gifs are not ours. like before italics translated.

The phone screen remained black, and Dee was ready to throw it against the wall. She and Mark waited in a chicken shop a few streets down from where Got7 had their photo shoot. Everything felt surreal. Mark Tuan had shouted her name, except it wasn’t Mark Tuan who had shouted it. It was her best friend who was stuck in Mark Tuan’s body while the real Mark Tuan sat across from her in her friend’s body, devouring chicken. They were already on their second order, and he had eaten most of the first and the second. Dee hadn’t known her friend’s body could hold so much.

“You don’t have to eat so fast. The chicken’s not going to run off. It’s already dead.” Mark glanced up from the chicken, and Dee had to remind herself it was Mark. The sheepish look he gave her was so much like Jay, though she supposed Jay wouldn’t look abashed. She would make some stupid comeback. “Are you not going to eat?” He gestured to the chicken. “I don’t really have an appetite. How do you? I would think being in someone else’s body would make you too nauseous to eat.” Mark shrugged his shoulders. “This body was hungry, and I like food.” At least that part of all of this was simple, she supposed. Dee went back to staring at the black phone screen. Mark watched the girl as he ate. While her eyes may have been on the phone, they weren’t staring at it. They had glazed over. He watched as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth and started chewing on it. She was thinking. He wondered what about. Having her best friend respond when she called her name had helped his cause, but he wondered how she was processing all of this.

For him being in someone else’s body didn’t feel strange until it did something his body didn’t. The boobs definitely took some getting used to. They were a lot heavier than he would have imagined. “Please stop staring at my friend’s boobs.” Mark snapped up to meet Dee’s eyes. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to stare. They’re just strange. How do you get used to them?”

Dee shook her head. “I’m not talking about boobs with you.” He nodded, understandable. “We can talk about anything else, or we can not talk. I’m okay with that too.” They went silent again. The chicken was gone, and Mark wasn’t up for a third round. He pulled out Jay’s phone, but the apps held no interest to him. He missed his phone and his apps and his everything. “Can we go for a walk?” Dee glanced at him, her brows lowering. “It’s kind of boring sitting and waiting for a phone call.”

Dee couldn’t argue with that. She paid for the meal, and the two exited the shop and continued down the street. They were in the heart of Cheongdam-Dong, and Dee had to keep herself from laughing at the irony. Jay had said she wanted them to spend the day exploring the area, and here they were exploring it together. The weather was perfect for the excursion. The sun shone bright in a cloudless sky, and a gentle breeze ruffled the leaves. As long as Mark didn’t say anything, she could forget that she was in the middle of an unbelievable situation.

“Is Jay usually quiet?” The illusion shattered.

“Only when other people are around. When it’s just the two of us, she never shuts up.” Mark nodded, a forgotten smile on his lips. “You might not believe this, but Jackson is the exact opposite.” Dee cocked a brow. “If there are cameras or people around he never shuts up, but if it’s just us in our dorm, he’s actually very quiet.” “I wish that was Jay.” Dee paused, trying to formulate her next sentence but gave up and continued in English. “She always goes off on these tangents, and I love her don’t get me wrong, but her tangents are weird. I end up tuning her out a lot.” She smiled abashedly. Mark let loose a hard laugh, and for a moment, she could hear his true laugh underneath Jay’s. Dee turned to her friend’s body and caught herself watching the way she laughed. The phone vibrated in her hand shocking her out of her daze. She shook her head and gave herself a mental smack. She needed her friend back in her own body now.

The phone continued to buzz, and Mark had sobered and come to stand by her. She slide her finger across the screen and held it up to her ear. “Jay?”

“DEE!” She yanked the phone from her ear and glared at it. “DEE? DEE?” Even a foot away she could still hear everything clearly. Mark snorted. Gingerly bringing the phone to her ear, Dee said, “Jay, I can hear you. It’s me. Stop screaming.” “Dee! It’s so good to hear your voice. I’m so sorry it took me so long to call. I forgot Mark’s phone at the dorm. Well not so much forgot but didn’t think to grab it because I was in Mark Tuan’s body and there was got6 and a photo shoot. And oh my gosh Dee! Too much to handle. “Anyways, I had to go back to the dorm and get the phone. Well, first I had to ask someone to take me to the dorm, but they wouldn’t because there was no time in the ‘schedule’.” She sneered the word. “So I had to sneak out to get to the dorm except I didn’t know where the dorm was, so I had to sneak back in, pump Jinyoung for information in a discreet way so he wouldn’t think something was up, and then I had to re-sneak out and find my way to the dorm which was not easy. However, I managed to do it and get back in and find Mark’s phone and call you.” While Dee thought she could listen to Mark’s voice for hours, listening to Mark’s voice give one of Jay’s long winded explanations was not so pleasant. “Are you finished?” “Yes.” “Good. We need to meet up and figure out what happened and how to fix it.” Dee picked a central location and told Jay to meet them there in fifteen minutes.

"Dee!" Jay screamed as tears welled in her eyes. Her best friend had never looked so beautiful. She rushed towards her with arms out stretched, ready to embrace her. "No, no, no!" Dee held up her arms and crouched down low. Jay skidded to a stop in front of her, nearly toppling over her. "What?" "You are not hugging me while you're in that body. This day has been weird enough." Glancing down at Mark’s body, Jay let out a breathy chuckle. "Sorry, I forgot." "So that's really you in Mark's body?" Dee straightened and allowed her gaze to sweep up the body. Jay blushed but nodded. "Yep, it's me. Do you want me to prove it?" "Kind of." "Our freshmen year of college we went to a party, and you danced with a guy and afterwords felt so awkward that you avoided him every time we saw him on campus." "What was so awkward about dancing with him?" Jay heard her voice ask. She glanced over to where her body was and nearly fainted. In her excitement to see Dee, she had forgotten that Mark was here in her body. Dee turned to Mark and sighed. "Nothing. It was a completely normal situation. I just felt awkward because I didn't know him, but I was grinding all up on him. Can we just stop talking about it? Why was that the story you had to bring up?" She glared at her friend which was a difficult feat, but she managed it. Jay shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. It was the first thing I thought of. So you're the real Mark Tuan." Jay shifted the conversation and her attention to her body. "It's so weird seeing me." Mark nodded her head. "I feel the same." Taking a step closer to her body, Jay began to examine it. It was different than looking in a mirror. She could see aspects of herself she had never noticed before. Stretching out her hand, she was ready to poke her face when Dee grabbed her wrist. "Don't touch him-you. Don't touch yourself." Dee growled. "Just no touching. No one touch anyone. Things are weird enough as it is." "What if touching is what transfers us back?" Mark offered. "It's worth a shot." Jay concurred. "Fine. If it ends this weird day, then go for it." Dee sighed and walked away from the body swappers, as they experimented. Jay stretched out her hand, and Mark grasped it. They stared at each other, breath held with expectation, but nothing happened. "I'm going to be honest I didn't have much hope." Jay said. Mark nodded in agreement. "What do you think will let us switch back?" "I think we need to figure out how we switched in the first place." Mark offered. "I've been wracking my brain all day, and I can't think of anything. We've never met. Never exchanged anything. I was not enacting any weird rituals. I assume you weren't either." Mark affirmed the statement with a nod. "So I really can't think of anything." "What did you wish for yesterday, Jay?" Dee asked, rejoining the two of them. Jay paused a moment blinking. "What did I wish for?" "When you threw your coin into the fountain, what did you wish for?" "I wished to spend-" Horror spread across her face. "What?" Mark and Dee asked in unison. "So this is what other people feel like when we drift. It really is freaky." "Jay." Dee growled. "I wished to spend the day with Jinyoung." Mark snorted which earned him a glare from Jay. "I'm really not that intimidating when I glare." He chuckled. "Well, I am, and you'd better be prepared because when I get back in my body, I will be sending you my most deathly glare." "Focus, you two! You wished to spend the day with Jinyoung." Jay nodded. "I guarantee you this was not what I meant." She said gesturing to Mark's body. "However, I did get to get a lot closer to Jinyoung than I would have in my body." She mused. "What did you do to Jinyoung?" Mark asked. "If you two do not focus, I'm going to hit you both." "You would bruise Mark's body?" "You would bruise the body Mark is in?" The body swappers exchanged glances and burst out laughing. "I'm done with the both of you." Dee turned her back to them and walked away. Jay watched her best friend walk off and forced herself to stop laughing. She turned to Mark and said, "first, I'm proud that you knew to use yourself as a reason, and second we really need to focus." "Should we go after her?" Mark nodded in Dee's direction. Jay affirmed, and the two headed off after the other girl. They reached her quickly and took up posts on either side of her. "As this is not an every day occurrence, there isn't really anyone we can consult about it,” Jay began, “and I tried searching the internet. Nothing useful. If it is related to my wish, then we might have to wait until the time limit expires. I wished for a day. Maybe when we wake up tomorrow, we'll be in our own bodies." "Which would be fine, but I have a concert tonight." Mark reminded them. "Maybe I can take my wish back." "And how would you do that?" Dee questioned. "By removing my coin from the fountain." "No!" The other two chorused. ​"Can you imagine the headlines? Got7's Mark Tuan jumps into Palsoekdam Pond and steals a coin from the wishing well." Dee shook her head. "Okay, well what bright ideas do you two have?" "We could always make a counter wish." Mark offered. Dee and Jay turned to stare at him. "What it couldn't hurt?" "I don't know if I trust making a counter wish. We saw how well my first wish turned out." "But, if a wish got you two into this mess, then he's right a wish might get you out." Dee mused. "Do I have to make the counter wish? Or should Mark make a wish? Or does Mark have to make the counter wish because he's in my body?" "You're being ridiculous." "These are legit questions!" Jay huffed. The image was too adorable, and Dee had to turn away to hide her smile and subsequent look of horror. They needed to swap back soon. "I think I'm beginning to understand." Mark mused. The other two turned to him, expectantly, and he stared back at them his face scrunching up in confusion.

"What?" "You said you were beginning to understand." Jay prompted.

"Do you have a new idea on how to switch you two back?" Mark's eyes widened. "I said that out loud. I'm sorry. I meant I'm beginning to understand why girls think I'm cute." Dee was caught between rolling her eyes and going "duh" but refrained from both. Jay did not have as much self-control. "You're an idiot, and if you weren't in my body, I would hit you. I guess I could hit your body-" "We are not starting on this! You," Dee pointed at Jay, "stop going off on spiels about his body, your body, and body swapping and everything. Just stop. And you," she pointed at Mark, "stop ogling yourself or whatever it is you're doing. And both of you focus. We are going to Polseokdam Pond. Both of you are going to throw coins into the wishing well, you're going to unwish your wish and you are going to wish to be back in your body." Dee inhaled deeply to replenish her oxygen and patience. The body swappers lowered their heads and nodded. "We have to hurry though. You only have so much time before I need to back for the concert." Mark pointed out. They hailed a taxi, and all three clambered into the back seat. Dee was squished between the two and had to remind herself every time that Mark's knee brushed hers that it wasn't Mark it was Jay.

The pathway by the Pond was sparsely populated, and the three were grateful. Jay walked out onto the pathway first, made her wish, and threw the coin into the cone. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was still standing on the jut of land, staring at herself. "It did take some time to kick in the first time." Dee offered. Jay switched positions with Mark. He made his wish and threw the coin. It bounced off the edge of the cone and rolled into the pond. Clearing his throat, he pulled out a second coin, made his wish, and threw it with the exact same result. Ten tries later. They had to go to a convenience store and buy something to break a bill. Jay and Dee sat on the edge of the pond passing a drink back and forth as they watched Mark continue his attempt. Mark reached into his pocket for another coin and came up empty handed. With a deep sigh, he turned to the girls. "You've got to be kidding me." Dee said while Jay groaned and fell back onto the concrete. "Do you think we're made of money?" "I'll pay you back I promise." "Why are you so bad at this?" Jay groaned from the ground. “It’s literally three feet in front of you.” Dee ignored her friend. "You don’t have to worry about that. I just don't know how much cash I have on me." She explained pulling out her wallet. "I'll get some snacks and change.” As she stood up, they heard a phone ring. Mark and Dee stared at Jay, and Jay stared back at them. “That’s Mark’s ring tone, isn’t it?” Mark nodded his head. Jay pulled out the phone, the ID read Manager-nim. Clearing her throat, she answered. “Yes.” Screaming echoed through the phone, and she jumped nearly dropping it. Bringing it back to his ear, Jay listened to the tirade on the other end. She glanced over at Mark, and he shrugged. “You did sneak out on a concert day.” The tirade came to an end, and from what Jay was able to gather, Mark was in a lot of trouble, and he needed to get back now. “I’m sorry, Manager. I am headed back right now.” The man started on another tirade, but Jay wasn’t feeling it. “I’m sorry… my phone… battery… dying.” She hung up the phone and quickly powered it down, so he couldn’t call back. She glanced at Mark and saw her face pale with fear. “Why did you do that?” “I don’t like getting screamed at.” “I’m never going to have free time again.” Jay felt a sharp slap on Mark’s shoulder and turned to find Dee glaring at her. “You just hit Mark.” “No, I hit my stupid friend. As long as you are in that body, you need to think how your actions will affect Mark.” Lowering her head, Jay apologized to the body’s true host. “We can’t change it now. You’d better go though, so we don’t make things worse.” “What are you two going to do?” “I’m going to throw coins at this wishing well until one goes in and hope that works. If it doesn’t, we’ll head to the concert venue. So we can meet up again and try to figure something else out.” The other two agreed to the plan, and Jay stood up, bidding her friend and Mark goodbye. She really hoped Mark succeeded, and it worked because she really didn’t want to fake a performance. “I guess it’s just the two of us again.” Mark said after Jay road off in a taxi. Dee nodded. “Like I said I’ll go get some snacks, and break my next bill.”  

<- part 3     part 5 ->

[andinewton]

Healing the Hurt - Avengers Redemption Series - Part Two - Chapter 53 - Epilogue 1 Continued

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Amelia Richards (OFC), pretty much everyone from the MCU appears at some point!

Pairings: Bucky x Amelia (ofc)

Warnings:  Chronic pain, physical disability, implied smut, eventual smut, swearing, fertility issues, pregnancy, angst with a happy ending, Stark has a heart.

Word Count:  151372 (complete with additional epilogues added)

Summary: 
Everything is going well at Avengers Tower, Bucky is integrating into the team slowly but surely; he longs for his confidence back but knows it's going to be a long road, never more than when he meets the new secretary at his doctor's office.

Amelia Richards is a career SHIELD agent, recruited straight out of college into the "company" but now she finds herself passed around from department to department, her latest position as a secretary at Avengers Tower proving monotonous compared to her former life, but when James "Bucky" Barnes walks into her office one Friday evening everything changes…

Join Bucky as he rediscovers parts of himself he had thought long lost with someone who considered herself broken for a long time, helping one another heal in more ways than one…

Master List

Chapter 53 - Epilogue 1 continued

Summary:  Amelia and Tony mutually geek out, Bucky and Amelia go to lunch, Bucky still forgets how his mouth works...

By the time Bucky got home Amelia was asleep. She looked peaceful and her colour had returned, which he took as a good sign. He crawled into bed beside her and kissed her hair as she snuggled up to him instinctively. He had an early start in the morning, training starting at four, thanks to some bantering with Sam that got out of hand, but he would leave Amelia a note, letting her know he would pick her up for lunch at one. Amelia made sure she dressed pretty for today, normally it was pretty casual in Tony’s lab, jeans and t’s being ample in the air conditioned room, but instead she went for a red floral wrap dress with a belt and red heeled sandals. It didn’t go unnoticed by Tony when she arrived, she got a wolf whistle and he got the finger.

‘What are we all dressed up for, Angel?’ He asked as she plugged in her laptop. ‘Lunch date with Bucky.’ She replied. ‘And you’re trying to give him a heart attack?’ ‘I wanted to look nice.’ She frowned at his playful teasing. ‘You do that.’ He said as he passed her, picking up the envelope she brought with her as she did every morning. The time seemed to drag up until lunchtime and she was grateful what she now knew was morning sickness had been partially staved off by some more of the weird ginger tea Nat had introduced her to and some plain cookies. ‘Why don’t you leave early?’ Tony suggested as he ran his eyes over the data she had just decoded from a recent mission. ‘No point, I’m meeting Bucky at one.’ ‘Then take a long lunch, don’t come back until you’re ready.’ ‘You’re sure?’ ‘You work hard enough as it is, plus I have your password, so I can carry on, if you don’t mind?’ ‘You memorised it?’ She laughed, wondering if that was the case. She had only told him once and he had never mentioned it again since. ‘Sure, I think I worked all the references out.’ ‘Go on then.’ She sat back in her chair and folded her arms, interested to see if he was right. ‘Okay, forty-two, the ultimate question. Correct?’ ‘Correct.’ She nodded. ‘R2d2 is obvious, just have to remember where the upper and lower case is. Order 66, nasty that, lot of good jedi met their end.’ She chuckled as he offered her a blueberry which she refused. ‘Nine, members of the fellowship? Or your favourite doctor?’ ‘First one.’ She grinned. ‘Keep going, you’re on a roll.’ ‘Okay, this one I was stuck on. Nora? Or is it initials for something?’ ‘Lead female character in Pete’s Dragon.’ ‘Dammit, of course.’ He walked a small circle before coming back to face her. ‘3791; rings of power. Three for the elves, seven for the dwarves, nine for the men and one to rule them all.’ ‘You’re impressing me, Stark.’ ‘221B. Baker street. Easy. And ohana means family. Nobody gets left behind.’ ‘Or forgotten.’ She finished. ‘And?’ ‘And a one.’ He pulled a face. ‘That wasn’t just a random number to make it up to thirty characters?’ ‘Oh, Tony, you let me down.’ She said as she hopped off her chair and picked up her bag. ‘You going to tell me?’ He asked as she hit a few keys before turning back to him. ‘I will, but only because you impressed me so much working it out.’ She leant in and kissed his cheek. ‘There can be only one.’ She murmured against his skin and jumped when he yelled; ‘Dammit! Highlander! Seriously?’ ‘You were so close.’ She grinned as she went for the door. ‘I swear if you weren’t so attached to that super soldier you’d be my ideal date.’ ‘We have enough nerd nights as it is.’ She reminded him. ‘And if we tried dating I’d probably murder you in your sleep.’ ‘I’m not that bad.’ He complained. ‘That’s not what Pepper says at girls night!’ She called back.

Bucky had showered and thrown on fresh blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He hoped he looked good; freshly shaven and wearing the cologne Amelia had bought him for his birthday, he hadn’t wanted to overdress and give something away but equally he wanted her to…what, exactly? She loved him, he didn’t need to impress her, but he still wanted to. Wanted her to know he could polish up nicely for her. She loved him even in sweats, but he thought this deserved something of an effort. He spotted Amelia across the lobby, she was wearing the red dress he loved so much and he smiled as she waved, her phone pressed to her ear. ‘I promise I will let you know what he says as soon as I can!’ She said rapidly, knowing Nat had her on speaker so Wanda could hear too. ‘He’s here now. I have to go!’ She hung up before they could start picking at her with more questions and smiled as Bucky reached her, leaning in and kissing her softly. ‘How are you doing, sweetheart?’ He asked as his arm automatically wrapped around her. ‘Better than yesterday. How were the fireworks?’ ‘Not as beautiful as you.’ He started them walking towards the exit. ‘I watched from Nat’s balcony.’ She explained. ‘We could have done that together. From our balcony, I mean.’ ‘But it was Steve’s birthday and as he’s your bestie you stuck it out with him.’ She squeezed him to her. ‘He appreciated it.’ Bucky smiled. Angelo welcomed them to the restaurant, he was always pleased to see them and they had become regulars, even allowing them a large tab which they paid off monthly with a substantial tip, and as always, when they were seated, he brought them a single rose in a stem glass as though to help with the romantic atmosphere, not that they needed it. They still sat in the same seats they had the first time they came here together and laughed just as much. Amelia wanted to wait until after they had eaten to tell him, she wasn’t sure why, but it seemed the right thing to do, at least let him enjoy his meal before she broke it to him. She picked at her food, having chosen something simple and eating as much as she could before giving up, both mild nausea and nerves shaking her. Finally Angelo cleared their plates and she kept her hands in her lap even once they were alone again and she noted Bucky checked his pockets, possibly wanting to clear their tab as it was the beginning of a new month. ‘So, I kind of wanted us to have lunch so we could talk. About something.’ She said as he frowned. ‘Sure, darlin’, what’s up?’ He asked halfheartedly as his heart sank. Where the hell was his wallet? He had it when he was in the meeting, then he got showered and changed and…it was in his other pants. Shit! ‘The girls and I, we realised something yesterday, and it’s kind of big…are you okay?’ She frowned at his confused expression. ‘Forgot my wallet. No big deal, really.’ He leant on the table with his elbows giving her his full attention. He was annoyed at himself for forgetting but he would do it later, he would make sure of it. ‘I can settle the tab this month.’ She reminded him they took it in turns. ‘It’s all good. You were saying?’ ‘Oh, yeah.’ She sort of half laughed. ‘Well, something’s happened, and it’s rather unexpected, but I think it’s a good thing.’ Her voice was almost questioning, as though she wasn’t sure and that made him frown. ‘Is everything okay, doll?’ ‘Yeah, I think so, but, it turns out that blocked tubes are no match for super soldier sperm and the healing serum.’ He stared at her for a moment and swallowed, finally only able to say; ‘What?’ ‘Turns out I’m pregnant.’ She said quietly, unsure how he was taking the news. She was…they were going to have a baby? Holy shit! This was amazing, this was the best news he had ever had, this was…he had to propose, now. He needed that ring. Without saying another word he got up from the table and walked out of the restaurant, pulling his phone from his pocket as he reached the door and calling up Steve’s number. ‘What…just…happened?’ Amelia murmured to herself as she saw Bucky disappear out of sight in front of the building. Before she could even begin to get her head around it her phone in her bag beeped her message tone and she pulled it out, seeing Nat’s number and just one word; Well? She unlocked the phone and called Nat’s number, her heart sinking as what had happened took hold. ‘What did he say?’ Nat asked rapidly as soon as she answered. ‘Nothing.’ Amelia said simply, amazed by how empty her voice sounded. ‘Nothing, what do you mean nothing?’ Wanda’s voice came next. ‘I mean he got up and he walked out. Never said a thing.’ ‘He did…why that…’ A torrent of Russian curse words followed as Wanda evidently took the phone from the furious Nat. ‘You mean he left you there?’ Wanda asked. ‘Yep. Still sitting at the table like nobby-no-mates. Just a second.’ She waved Angelo over and handed him her credit card. ‘Angelo, can I settle up our tab, please?’ He took it and bustled off to the counter. ‘Wanda, what do I do?’ She asked in desperation. ‘She wants to know what to do.’ Wanda said to Nat and she snatched her phone back. ‘I’ll tell you what you do, you walk out of that restaurant with your head held high, you go around the corner and walk until you find that little deli we went to the first time we met. You wait there, we’ll pick you up, and if I see James Buchanan Barnes on the way so help him I will…’ ‘We’ll see you real soon.’ Wanda’s voice came back on the line then hung up. Walk to the deli. She could do that now. It wasn’t far and she wasn’t likely to bump into anyone she knew, she hoped. She got up, headed to the counter to add her tip and collect her card, then thanked Angelo for their food, all the while her stomach churning enough to make her wish she hadn’t eaten at all.

Bucky ran down the sidewalk as he called Steve, knowing he was on The Avengers floor, and the second he picked up he spoke. ‘Punk, I left my wallet in my black jeans, you have to get it. Now!’ ‘You’re a forgetful son of a bitch, I swear.’ Steve laughed. ‘How far did you get? Down on one knee?’ ‘Shut up, jerk! Just hurry!’ Bucky snapped, in no mood for Steve’s teasing, and that concerned his friend. ‘What happened?’ Steve asked as he rushed to Amelia and Bucky’s room, letting himself in and searching for Bucky’s jeans, which he thankfully had left on the bed. ‘She just told me she’s pregnant!’ Bucky sputtered. ‘Holy shit!’ ‘That’s what I thought!’ Bucky ran his hand into his hair. ‘That’s…amazing! What did you say to her?’ ‘What did I what?’ Bucky said as he began to realise what he had done. ‘What did you say?’ ‘I didn’t say anything.’ ‘You didn’t say anything?’ Steve repeated as he palmed the wallet and headed back out the door. ‘So what did you do? Just leave her sitting in Angelo’s?’ ‘Uh…kinda.’ Bucky said hesitantly as he turned back towards the restaurant. ‘You, my friend, are an asshole, as Sigyn would say. Get your butt back in there now! I’ll bring the wallet!’ ‘Right!’ Bucky said and hung up, running back down the street. What the hell had he been thinking? She needed some kind of response! He got in the door in time to see a waitress clearing the rest of their table, no sign of Amelia there or at the counter. He spotted Angelo among the tables and went straight to him. ‘Hey, Angelo, is Amelia in the bathroom?’ ‘She left, about two minutes after you did.’ The old man said in confusion. It was unlike them to leave separately. ‘Damn. Thanks.’ He headed back to the door and pulled his phone back out, calling Steve again. ‘She’s gone.’ ‘What did you expect? Her to sit there and wait for you to pull your head out of your ass? Ask FRIDAY to locate her Stark Phone.’ ‘Right.’ Bucky hung up and did as Steve suggested, standing out in the street and asking the interface to locate her. ‘Sorry, Tin Man, Amelia has turned off the tracker in her phone.’ ‘I didn’t think that was possible.’ He groaned as he saw Steve coming towards him. ‘It’s not meant to be.’ The AI replied. ‘Great, can you ask Tony to try reenable it for me?’ ‘Sure thing.’ He shoved the phone back in his pocket and sighed as he rubbed his hand over his jaw. ‘You’re a fucking idiot.’ Steve said as he slapped the wallet against his chest. ‘Yeah, yeah. I know.’ ‘Any luck with FRIDAY?’ ‘You know Amelia.’ ‘She shut off the tracker.’ Steve said knowingly. ‘I asked FRIDAY to see if Tony can reenable it. If anyone can, he can.’ ‘If she didn’t lock him out too. Girl's a genius, remember.’ Steve said. ‘She didn’t pass you on the street?’ ‘I don’t think so.’ He turned a circle and couldn’t see a sign of her, and in that red dress he thought he should be able to. ‘You lost your girl. Literally.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘You can say that again.’

Nat and Wanda picked Amelia up in one of the unmarked SHIELD SUV’s at the deli and drove away without a word. It was only when they reached the interstate that Nat spoke, asking exactly what happened. Amelia explained it all emotionlessly, her voice empty, as though she couldn’t quite process it, and only when they pulled up into the grounds of the compound that she realised where they were. ‘What are we doing here?’ She asked as they got out and headed towards the door. ‘You have clothes here, everything you might need. You can pack some things and go wherever you want to, if you need some time away. And it will give me a chance to hunt that bastard down and…’ ‘Natasha!’ Wanda said harshly as they went up the stairs. ‘Just to give you some thinking space.’ ‘That’d be good.’ Amelia said quietly. They walked in silence to her room and she looked around, Bucky’s denim jacket still hanging on the back of the desk chair, and it smelled of his cologne. That did it. That broke the dam she had tried to build around herself at what was happening, and she dropped to her knees as a sob choked her. ‘Oh, Milly.’ Nat dropped down and wrapped her arms around her. ‘He’s an idiot, if he can’t see what he’s losing, and I will personally make him pay for this.’ Amelia shook her head. ‘No, Nat, it’s okay. He wasn’t expecting this. I can’t blame him for being mad. I can’t.’ ‘You can blame him for being insensitive.’ Wanda added where she leant on the door frame. ‘That was a dick move.’ Amelia sniffed a laugh at the uncharacteristic comment from Wanda. ‘It was, wasn’t it?’ ‘It really was.’ Nat wiped at her cheek. Amelia swallowed, forcing back the tears she knew would soon engulf her again. ‘Can we go somewhere else? I don’t want to be here.’ She looked around the room at all the little things that made it their room, that made it belong to both of them. ‘Get a few things. Sleepover in my room.’ Nat said as they got to their feet. ‘We can figure out where you want to be later.’ ‘Sounds good.’ Amelia gave her a watery smile, her mind already whirring as to what she might do next.

Chapter 54