#chris evans stories

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Midnight Rain Ch. 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag List:

@notebooks-of-nonsense @fdl305 @bval-1 @calimoi @syntheticavenger @mrsjenniferwinchester @chaneajoyyy @mommad @ellen-reincarnated1967 @adriellej @coffeebooksandfandom @patzammit @posiemax @auriel187 @ladybug05 @stoneyggirl2 @fallenoutofrose @mrspeacem1nusone @teamfreewill-imagine @inlovewith3 @auvisanspeur @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @leaveitbythewave @sleutherclaw @sandlee44 @aaqua-tofana @nohumanswereharmed @msgrandma49 @traceyaudette @cevansbaby-dove

[wattpad-writer91]

Hardcore been in a Chris Evans mood lately 🥵 That man can do no wrong fuucckk..

[buckets-and-trees]

I'm Your Man Collection

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

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

Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] DUBIOUS CONSENT, extortion, explicit smut: oral (female and male receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, spitting, dom/sub undertones, breeding kink, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, somnophilia, financial spoiling

COLLECTION:

I'm Your Man [3k]

Morning Radiance [750]

Prepare for Takeoff [1.5k]

Don't Look Too Far [6.4k]

Burned Off the Haze [4.5k]

Cracking Locks [5k]

ask: a moment on your honeymoon [350]

Make Her Glow [1k]

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

[onsunnyside]

🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K

𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands. 

You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact. 

Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks. 

He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you. 

If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying. 

"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle. 

It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage. 

Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him. 

To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.

You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed. 

The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door. 

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes. 

Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”

“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.” 

“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool. 

"Wait! What are you doing!" 

Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."

You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”

"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”

That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.  

You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears. 

He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?" 

As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink. 

It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.

"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?” 

"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm. 

"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch. 

After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.

"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink. 

Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts. 

��It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?” 

You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.

“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes. 

“Oh… It got dirty.” 

He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.” 

You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.

He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”

Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete. 

You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon. 

His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see.  A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be. 

“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”

“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city. 

It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.

He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note. 

He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his. 

“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”

He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”

“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”

“And?”

“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.” 

Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead. 

He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery. 

“You liked the attention.” 

You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.” 

You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books. 

“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”

Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money. 

“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”

“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”

You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.

Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with. 

“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.” 

He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago. 

Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so. 

“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”

Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise. 

“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you. 

Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle. 

Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window. 

“You’ll be my boss?”

Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.

He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”

Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’  bikes ‘n engines.”

Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business. 

“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

[in-love-with-movies]

Lightyear (2022)

[georgiapeach30513]

Can I just say that I really love the Jack look.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Storm & Blaze

(1-1)

Short story # 22

Gifs NOT mine.

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

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 10 minutes

Johnny is OOC af but what do you expect?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[try-set-me-on-fire]

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

“That doesn’t seem very healthy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe he should stay away from those.”

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

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“5:30 AM. So, probably 6:15.”

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

“Yes. I would.”

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

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

“Uh huh.”

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

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

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

[k-evans-reads]

The Spare

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

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

Intro l Main Masterlist | The Spare Masterlist

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

Word Count: 5,672

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___________________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[riricitaa]

the hair, the glasses, the suit, the eyes, the beard, THE EVERTHING!

[bostonboy1981]

Advent day 4

Chris Evans reading bedtime story for cbeebies

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Hmmmm whats gonna go down in Chapter 2?? Lol only time will tell!!

Midnight Rain Ch.1

Rich Mans World Series | Man After Midnight Series | Chapter 1 | Donations | Thoughts & Feelings

Authors Note: FINALLY!!! I finished this chapter this morning and just couldn't wait to release it!!!

*****TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!!!!*****

“Things are looking great. Strong heartbeat, baby is measuring about a week later than what you are. Still don’t want to know the sex?” you smiled, shaking your head. “Nope, leave it as a surprise for my shower.” you said as Brooke grinned. 

You sent the photo to Chris, ‘28 weeks. Everything looks good. Baby is measuring around 29 weeks. Shower is Sunday at 2pm.’ the message was read but not responded to. “We should get back before sunday.” you told Brooke as she walked in with bags packed. “Jet’s gonna take off in about 30 minutes. We gotta go.” 

Brooke sat in the uncomfortable recliner, quietly reading the newspaper, glancing at her phone ever so often. “Hey,” Sebastian's voice broke through silence as he entered the room. “I got you some coffee.” he handed her the cup and sat down in the chair beside her. Brooke smiled softly at him. “Thank you,” 

“Ah! Do you love it?!” Brooke grinned as you held up the little black leather jacket. “Its so cute!!” you gasped grinning at it. The doorbell rang and then the door opened. 

“How’s everything going?” Sebastian asked softly, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Brookes head. “She’s doin okay, finally went back to sleep after the nightmare.” Brooke whispered as she stepped out in the hallway with Sebastian as he nodded. “Glad to hear she’s finally back asleep, she needs the rest after everything she’s been through.” he sighed looking down the hallway. 

“He called me again.” he spoke quietly, Brooke looked at him. “Jesus. What’s he want?” she crossed her arms as he leaned against the wall. “Wants to talk to her…ask her how everything is goin….check in on the baby…” he shoved his hands in his pockets, jonesing for a cigarette right about now. 

Brooke had told him on their first date that cigarettes were a turn off for her. Seb threw his pack out the window the second he’d pulled out of her driveway from dropping her off at her parents house. He’d fallen in love with her that night and didn’t want to jeopardize that. 

Brooke put her head in her hands, “We can’t keep lying to him, we’re going to have to tell him.” She looked up at him with a heartbroken look in her eyes. Sebastian looked down. “Fine, I’ll go call him and tell him to come over.” Brooke nodded and began to walk downstairs toward the kitchen. “Do we really think that's best? Why don't you meet him somewhere besides here and tell him?” 

Chris held out a hand as several of his men carried in beautifully wrapped gifts, the room quieted down and everyone watched as he walked over taking a seat amongst all the other women. “Sorry we’re late, my gift wrapper was a little slower today.” he smiled as you glared at him. 

Sebastian took a seat at the island in the kitchen and shook his head, “Because he’ll want to see her, talk to her, ask….he’s been going nuts not hearing from her.” He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “If we do this, we do it today.” Brooke sighed, rubbing her eyes. 

“Do what?” you asked from the doorway, causing Brooke and Seb both to turn and stare at you with wide eyes. 

***

“Hey you’re doing great!” Anthony said, watching Chris bend his right arm down and slowly wrap his hand around a pop can. Chris winched as the therapist smiled. “That’s enough for today, you did great Chris. Just keep working on your exercises at home and I’ll see you back here on Friday.” She said as Chris slowly walked with his cane beside Anthony toward the door. The walk was silent to the car, Anthony keeping a slow pace to stay beside Chris. As he helped Chris into the car, and climbed into the drivers side, he instantly turned on the air conditioning, letting the inside begin to cool from the stale summer air. “I wanted to let you know that Sebastian called this morning, he wants you to come by today, and says he needs to talk with you about a few things.” Anthony said as Chris looked over at him. “Well lets get over there.” he said as Anthony shook his head. “Told him not right now…said you just got out of therapy and you’re tired.” he said switching lanes as they drove toward the outskirts of town, toward Chris’s house. “I’m fine, take me to see my wife dammit.” 

***

“Y/N…we need to tell you something, there was a fire at Chris’s house…about 3 months ago…the same night that…um…well when the incident happened. Well…you might notice some scarring on Chris. He got trapped in the fire and his right arm as well as his right leg got burned.” Sebastian told you as he sat you down on the couch. 

You stared at him and slowly nodded. “Okay,” you responded emotionlessly. That’s how you’d been since the incident. “Are you okay, Y/N?” Brooke asked, sitting beside you on the couch. You looked over at her, your face held nothing on it, “Yeah.” you said in a monotone voice. She could see the look behind your eyes though, the anger and sadness that fill them both. You looked back at Sebastian blinking slowly and you asked “When will he be here?” you spoke quietly. Seb looked at you before looking at his phone and with a heavy sigh, replied “in about 5 minutes.” 

When Chris got there, Seb met him at the door. Chris looked at him surprised before shaking his hand and exchanging small talk, but he couldn’t wait to see you. See how big your 9 month belly would be, to talk to the baby, talk to you…he couldn’t wait. You’d been dodging his calls and texts for months, denying him access to you and his child. 

Chris came into the living room, Brooke was coming in from the kitchen, carrying a tray with cups, a kettle, and some snack cakes. She set the tray on the sandy colored coffee table, that no doubt you’d picked out, always liking the lighter color. “Chris..it’s so nice to see you again.” Brooke said, holding her arms out for a hug as she walked toward him. “It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other. Please, have a seat.” She said motioning to the couch that you stood behind staring out of the french doors watching it rain. “Just a second,” he said, brushing her off. He walked toward you, stopping when he was just a few feet away. 

“Y/N…how have you been?” he asked as Brooke looked from the two of you to Sebastian who ran a hand over his face. “How’s the baby?” Chris asked with a small smile. You and the baby were the only reason he’d survived that night if he was being honest with himself. He fought for everything that night, prayed that if he made it out alive, he’d change, be a better man, for you and the baby you’d both created. 

You didn’t answer him, you didn’t even move from your spot. “Y/N?” he called out, stepping closer. “Don’t.” you said suddenly. “Do not come anywhere near me.” your voice broke and you let out a gut wrench sob before you turned and looked at him. Chris’s eyes fell from your face to your belly, and instantly his blood ran cold. “Y/N…..Honey, what happened? Did you go into labor early?” he prayed that you’d just forgotten to call him and let him know the baby had been born. 

“Chris…sit down.” Brooke said from behind him. Chris stared at you for a minute before he turned away from you; knowing you weren’t going to speak to him, and deep down, he knew why. “Chris, can you tell us what happened to you?” Brooke asked as she poured him a cup of coffee. “Well, two masked men broke in and attacked me in my-our bedroom.” He said, dropping his eyes. 

“Uh…they beat me and set the house on fire.” Chris said as he looked back at Brooke and Seb. They knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but maybe that wasn’t something anyone but you were meant to know. “I’m glad to see you’re okay though,” Brooke commented trying to fill the unavoidable and thick silence. 

Chris nodded before he turned and looked over his shoulder at you; You were staring directly at him. “When did it happen?” you asked quietly. “3 months ago. When did you have the baby?” Chris asked again. “Chris…” Brooke called to him, trying to get him to leave you alone. You hadn’t talked about the incident with her or Sebastian and she found it hard to believe you’d just open right up to him after everything that happened. He glanced from you to her, “What?” he snapped and looked at Brooke and Sebastians faces, the look they held. 

You bolted for the stairs, tears in your eyes as you ran up them, down the hall to your bedroom and slammed the door. “Dammit!” Brooke jumped up before she looked at Sebastian. “Are you going to tell him or do I have to?!” Sebastian looked at Chris before looking up and meeting Brooke's eyes. She scoffed at him before whipping around and faced Chris. “Her little girl was cut from her belly and murdered.” She snapped at him before rushing after you. 

[buckets-and-trees]

Obsidian Stain & Sin Series

tattoo artist modern au

Getting your first tattoo at the Obsidian Stain & Sin Studio turns out to be a decision that has a lasting effect.

Pairings: Ari Levinson x curvy Female!Reader x Curtis Everett

Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] explicit smut, mfm threesome, questionable initial consent

SERIES: ↠ Obsidian Stain and Sin [8.1k] ↠ Taking You Home [6.2k] ↠ Worship in the Bedroom [3.3k] ↠ Get Closer to Me [5.8k] more coming soon

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest Chris Evans Characters Collection

[callmissrogers]

There You Are Sweetheart. | Steve Rogers x Reader One Short.

Summary: Y/n just wanted to bring her sister a package. What she didn't expect was being picked on by two soldiers or being rescued by a handsome stranger.

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 1,909

Warnings: fluff and some goofiness. Y/n does get harassed by some jerks, but nothing happens. Let me know if I missed anything.

Note: very minimal editing and gold stars to anyone who catches what this is a reference to.

It's beginning to feel like spring. The cherry blossoms have sprung into bloom, and Y/n has a date to bring her sister, Felicity, a package that was delivered to her house whilst Felicity was away. On the way there, her horrible sense of direction has her taking a wrong turn and into the pathway of some soilders on their lunch break. Will Y/N end up in some sort of trouble, or will someone dashing come to her rescue? Read to find out.

Hey! I'll be at on a coffee shop today at 3... Could you bring me my package then? It's a little hole in the wall place by all the fancy vintage stores you like.

Of course, Felicity would want to meet at a coffee shop. Y/n was positive her sweet younger sister couldn't survive even a couple of hours without a caffeine kick.

She looked around her office (which was really her apartment) for an excuse to stay in, but couldn't find any. All of the outfits that needed tailoring had already been tailored.

Plus, really, she hadn't seen her sister for a while, and they needed to catch up. Y/n just hated going out in the late afternoon. It meant that she'd likely be heading back during rush hour and would end up eating dinner late. If there was anything that y/n didn't appreciate, was having her routine messed up. . . She was well aware that she lived like a little old lady sometimes.

Closer to time, she got dressed in an outfit that was fit to be seen in. Her baby pink lounge set was incredibly comfortable for working long hours at home, but it was hardly a fashion statement.

The coffee shop in question was about 15 blocks away from her place, so she decided to walk. Admittedly, this probably wasn't the best idea in the world. Y/n has a tendency to get lost in her local grocery store.

So, with an earphone in one ear, she listened to her favorite oldies playlist, as life was better when it had a soundtrack and was on her way.

A few blocks down, she took a left down an alley that was its own hole in the wall. It held a bar favored by military members and directly across from that there was a karaoke pizza joint. Y/n always thought that made an odd coupling.

Tho, a part of her wondered if the college girls who favored the pizza place went there just for the chance of getting with an army man without any understanding of what military life was really like.

She was musing on this when two soldiers stepped out directly in front of her and thereby blocked her pathway.

"Um. Excuse me." She gasped, trying to get around them.

"Looks like this little mouse lost her way," one of them joked, taking a swig from his beer bottle.

She shook her head, "Oh no, I'm not lost."

The second soldier peered down at her with a grin on his face and then said, "This little mouse looks thirsty. We should take her to get a drink."

Y/n was beginning to get nervous, and she had no idea how she was going to get out of this situation. She had never had any issues cutting through here before, but now she was wishing she had taken the route that passed the pet store instead.

All she could think to say was, "No thanks, my sister is waiting for me." Hopping that by knowing she had some place to be that they would just leave her be.

But they just shared a glance, laughing to themselves before the one of the right replied with a "We've heard that excuse before." Then the one on the left winked at her and said, "She's actually pretty cute for a mouse."

His pal chuckled and then reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, "How old are you anyway? Live close by?"

Now they were both getting uncomfortably close, and y/n had a terrible vision about being stuck having to sit in this bar with them until they had gone from just tipsy to black out drunk.

"Leave me alone!" She tried to yell, but it came out as more of a loud statement.

"You see, your personality scares all the girls."So I think she's cuter when she's scared."

She was done for, body stiffening up, hands trembling, trying not to drop the package.

"There you are, sweetheart," someone said behind her. Only when someone tucked their arm around hers and pulled her from the soldiers' grasp did she realize that the stranger was talking to her.

But she certainly didn't know anyone who would call her that. That much she was sure of.

"I'm sorry I'm late." He said, gazing down at her. She had to crane her neck just to look him in the eye. He was a tall, blond headed man with strong features. His bright blue eyes bore into hers with concern.

Did she know this man? No. No, she did not. But all she could manage to do in response to his saving her from these two was to open and close her mouth repeatedly.

"I've been looking for you everywhere." Her rescuer continued acting like they knew each other. Not only knew each other but were in some sort of relationship.

Oh boy, was y/n's head spinning now.

"Hey man, we were just talking to your girl here." One of the soilders tried to explain.

Her rescuer looked at the pair and then said, "Really? It looked to me like you were trying to force a lady into drinks after she said no. Time to learn some boundaries, gentlemen. We'll be going." And then he gently led her up and out of the alleyway, only stopping once they were completely out of sight of the bar.

"Are you ok?" He asked, his head tilting to get a better look at her face. This man had to at least be 6"2, and he made y/n feel positively tiny.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "I will. I will never take that street again. That's for sure."I'm sorry that it did. Letting off steam is no excuse to treat a lady that way."

"Thank you. . . I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't come along like that." She said, pulling the hem of her cardigan sleeve.

"I was just doing what anyone should do in a situation like that,"

"But. Can I ask-- No nevermind." She mumbled, feeling her cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

"No, no. Go on, please, " He encouraged, actually seeming eager to hear her out.

"Wh - why'd you pretend to be my boyfriend or something?" She asked, feeling really, really stupid.

Now he was blushing.

"To be honest, ma'am, it was the only thing I could think of on the spur of the moment." He said with a nervous laugh.

When her phone chimed, y/n pulled it out to see a text from Felicity.

where are you?

"Well, I thought it was smart. . . You're very much the gentlemen." She said with a smile, feeling much more relaxed than she had a moment ago.

He looked like he was about to say something when her phone chimed again

Beginning to freak out a bit, sis. Are you ok?

Y/n sighed, looking from the phone screen up to her rescuer. "I should... I should probably get going. My sister's getting worried about me."

"Where is it you're headed? If you don't mind me asking." He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. How was it possible for someone to look so at ease and yet so uncomfortable at the same time?

"She wanted to meet at a coffee shop a few blocks away from here." Y/n replied, adjusting her bag and trying to look anywhere but at him.

They made quite the pair.

After shifting from foot to foot for a moment, he said, "I could walk you."

Y/n didn't know why, but that small gesture made her smile in the biggest way.

"Really? You don't have to."Ah. Well, now I'm invested after all. I've been looking for you all day." He said, matching her smile. If she could read his mind right now, she'd know that he just congratulated himself for coming up with something that was smooth as a response

So he offered her his arm again, and the pair made their way to the coffee shop.

Meandering past store fronts and other businesses as they went.

"This is it." Y/n fianlly said, stopping in her tracks.

It was a coffee shop that looked like it hadn't aged for about 60 years.

"I love this side of town," He said as a response.

"Things feel a little more normal here." "More normal?" Y/n asked, not understanding what he meant by that statement.

"That would be a very long story that we don't have time for at the present moment." He said again, smiling down at her.

"Oh. I see." Y/n giggled at her own confusion. This man saved her, escorted her to meet her sister, and now adds some mystery to the mix.

"I'll let you go. Don't want to worry that sister of yours anymore." He said with a tip of his head and he started to walk away.

"Wait!" Y/n blurted, forgetting herself. He turned to face her again, judging by the expression on his face, he was surprised by her sudden outburst. Then his brows shot up as if to say, "Go on."

"What's -whats your name?" She asked, willing herself to hold onto this bold feeling long enough to get this out.

He smiled and then said, "Steve Rogers."

Y/n's eyes widened, and her boldness melted into total embarrassment. Perhaps she was drugged or something to be out of her mind enough to not realize she had been with not just some kind stranger off the street, but rather CAPTAIN AMERICA. And he had called her "sweetheart", even if he hadn't really meant it, he had still said it.

She would dream about that for the next month while she hemmed dresses.

"Miss. Miss!" Steve said, having come closer again to get her attention. Y/n jumped when she realized he was right in front of her.

"Sorry. I'm y/n y/l/n. "

"Well, y/n y/l/n," He said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a pocket notebook he scribbled something down and then gave it to her. "If you happen to be free this Friday night. There's a restaurant in this neighborhood. Very old timey, like me. . ." He said nervously, laughing again. "We could have a meal, I could tell you that story and I could learn more about you. I mean, aside from the fact that you have a sister and listen to 'Sh Boom' when you walk around the city."

He had noticed what she had been listening to?

All y/n could do was squeak a "yes." Before running back into the coffee shop and slamming the door in his face.

Felicity looked up in surprise, "What took you so long? Are you ok?"

Y/n sat down and, in one breath, said, "I think Captain America just asked me out on a date, and I said yes."

NOTE: I wrote this in one sitting, and at first, I thought it was sweet. Now, I think I might have actually made it corny. I'm going with it anyways but please let me know what you thought of it. Thanks!

Note 2: Part 3 of 'That's my Girl' will be coming out soonish keep an eye out!

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[jackiequick]

— But I Like It And It’s All Because Of You | Marvel Fanfic

Before they were Stevella, they were Johnny Storm & Sophia Barbaro

Pairing: Johnny Storm x OC, Johnny Storm x Sophia Barbaro

Fic length: Short Blurb

Universe: Marvel Comics (Earth 37)

—

Summary: What happens on another timeline, where our beloved couple were AU versions of themselves in a way different universe? Or maybe they are in our tale already? In other words the half-ass nurse and her fire filled boyfriend.

~~~

It’s been a few days since the incident happened, as he felt his molecules got struck and rearranged before knock out, cold the rest of his family and friends.

But when Johnny woke up, he felt nice.

Hell, he was better than fine!

He was great. Despite the nurses and doctors who checked in on him, telling him to stay at the medical center to get rest. Yeah sure the first few moments he woke up he was groggy and a little whipped out but other than that he felt great.

He was getting himself into a red tracksuit for the snowy weather a few kilometers away, from the main medical clinic where he was staying. That was when he paused seeing the nurse who walked in.

“Woah, woah, woah, where do we think we’re going?” She asked.

Johnny held a cheeky grin towards her. Her dark hair from her light tan skin and soft brown eyes made him go hot.

God she is pretty…

“I don’t know if we noticed, babe, but the sickest runs on this side of the alps are right outside that window.” He remarked strapping on his cherry red sweater.

“Yeah I noticed but there are rules here, you can’t leave...” She explained walking over to him with a small smile but she was cuff off.

“Until we finish the test. I know but I never been good with rules. You let me know how those come out.”

She crossed her arms chuckling lightly at him.

He paused and smirked, “Wanna help me with the zipper?”

“This is not a ski resort, Mr. Storm.” She remarked.

“Ah ‘Mr. Storm’, I like the sound of that leaving your gorgeous lips.”

“Ha!”

“You can’t lie, you like the sound of it.”

“Again, not a ski resort. Sit your butt down.”

Johnny smirk tuned into grin as he sat down on the bed, “Ooh, yes ma’am. I like a woman with a commanding tone. As for your answer, it’s not a ski resort, yet! Luckily grandma still sends care packages through, you’ll be surprised for an 80 year old woman you—gah!”

Sophia stuck the thermometer in his mouth to shut him up and take his temperature. She giggled seeing his reaction before his face relaxed.

“You are trouble.” She smirked chuckling.

“Mhm, trouble is my middle name.” He remarked talking with thermometer in his mouth.

She noticed the temperature rising on the scans and said, “Oh you’re hot!”

“Why thank you, so are you.” He added, “And I’m not afraid to cry.”

“No, I mean you feel a little feverish..”

“Well I never felt better in my life. My god, you smell good, listen.”

He took her hand that was resting on his cheek and lowered it to play with her hands as he removed the thermometer from his mouth. She blushed a slight bit and raised an eyebrow, still a bit concerned about his very hot body.

“When you get off work?” He continued.

“4 but I..” She repiled.

“Tell you what, babe, you meet me at 4:01 at the mountain.”

He kept talking standing up from bed, grabbing his equipment for skiing and walked around.

“I’ll give you a minute to freshen up.” He continued, hell he took the thermometer that was in his mouth and placed it in her front pocket ever so gently, “This is yours.” Then he pressed a quick kiss to her lips, “That’s mine.”

He mumbled the word ‘nurses’ under his breath as he walked out of the room. Sophia stood there with a soft smile on her face, trying to not laugh shaking her head.

God he is cute…

She looked at the thermometer that held his temperature and the machine beating. His core temperature was 209 degrees. Oh that’s new and rather got. His energy level was hot.

———

Later on, the two of them were dressed in ski clothes riding a helicopter across the mountains. The radio was playing some 2000s punk band as the hover above one another.

Johnny dressed in fire engine red and black, meanwhile Soph was dressed in deep rosy pinks and dark browns.

The two laughed at the wildness of it all.

Once they reached the drop point, turn to the pilot and Johnny shouted, “Alright you should stay to the right. The left might give you trouble. I think we should drop like 10 more feet.”

The pilot nodded.

Sophia chuckled and shouted, “We’ll be fine. Let’s make a bet.”

Johnny smirked, “I’m listening! What we talkin’?”

“Last one down springs for room service.”

“Your on.”

Before the blonde could say anything else, she flipped her body forward and lunched into the snow below them. Her screams echoed through the sky as laughter filled the air around them. Johnny grinned at that.

He looked over his shoulder at the pilot and proudly shouted, “That’s my future wife!”

With that, he lunched forward into the snow and began sliding down the mountain on his board. She looked over her shoulder and chuckled.

“You’re pretty good at this!” Sophia yelled skiing down.

He laughed, “Not so bad yourself, babe!”

“You’ll be losing soon.”

“Ha! All right. No more kid’s stuff. Watch this!”

Johnny shouted for her to check out his smooth moves as she flipped and swung around the snow. But as he kept going, he started sparking flames across his body.

He didn’t even notice.

“Woah! You’re on fire!” Sophia shouted across from him, skiing off to the side. There was a hint of panic in her voice.

Johnny shouted, “Thanks! You’re pretty amazing too.”

“No, your on literal fire! Look!”

Johnny noticed the fire raging across him and spike up his body trying to escape the flames, but instead started sliding down the mountain even harder, and further.

Sophia wasn’t watching where she was going either as she stifled against the sight of smoke and snow in front of her. She went tumbling onto the ground.

The blonde looked over his shoulder hearing her voice but couldn’t stop his ski board from sliding down the mountain despite all his weight. It didn’t help the situation as the fire engulf him, his eyes widened flying off the cliff straight into a thick cloud of snow and dust.

He coughed and sucked in a small breath in surprise noticing a big hole around him. He was out of his element, wearing nothing but his birthday suit surrounded by the pool of steaming hot water, within the area of snow.

Soon enough, down slid Sophia coming to a stop in front of her. She removed her ski mask to get a better view of him waist deep in the water.

“Care to join me?” Johnny asked, hands above his head breathing heavily. The shock still lingered over his eyes.

She furrowed her eyebrows lightly chuckling, “You serious?”

“To be fair, this wasn’t how I planned our time in the hot tub would be.”

“Is that so?”

“I was planning wine and cheese for dinner tonight at the hotel while we cruised in the hot tub.”

Johnny smirked and shrugged, a slight sheepish expression on his face. He totally expects for her to back out on him.

“What do you say? Start our plans early?” He asked once again.

Sophia grinned and shrugged at the idea, “Why not?”

She dropped her ski poles onto the ground and removed her cap.

Let’s just say things got steamy…

——-

Omggg I had to try out this new game of AUs for couples. P. S. her father owns The Baxter Building 😉

Pls let me know what you think 💭

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @cherrysft @missstrawbs2001 @mandylove1000 @eliohasmyheart @terry-perry @sherloquestea @superspookyjanelle @starkleila @buckysteveloki-me @parisparker269 @yetanotherwells @rickb-chaos @fluffystevefest @savemewattpad @lazywolfwiccan @daughter-of-melpomene @fototingobug @ocappreciation @ximehs and etc