#fuck me sideways i nearly threw my pen from the shock

[assortedvillainvault]

Nothing quite like rewatching an old favourite and being slapped with the rediscovery of ones villainous voice kink.

Like- jesus- Jafar why-

[honeypiehotchner]

you look stupid (Gibbs x Fem!Reader) — one shot

Uhm…hi :) I’ve been watching NCIS a lot lately and Gibbs does something to me soooooo here’s this. Purely for my own entertainment, but I thought I’d share. ALSO! I don’t think it’ll be a series like a novel with a plot, but I might be doing a series of one shots with these two. Because this was SO fun to write (also it’s like 4.2k words mwah)

Warnings: bickering like a damn married couple, SMUT!, fingering, orgasm denial, semi-public, just in general Gibbs being sexy

Prompt: that one tumblr post that goes “you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid”

In all the years Ducky has worked with Gibbs, he has never known someone to piss Gibbs off as much as you do.

In all the years that you have been in the workforce, you’ve never had a boss that pisses you off as much as Gibbs does.

It’s a delicate balance, you think. He calls you a pain in his ass; you call him a bastard. You can’t think of one day where the two of you didn’t scream at each other until you got it out of your systems.

You still remember the first day McGee walked in on you fighting with Gibbs. Tony was at his desk, stuffing his face, per usual, completely oblivious to the empty paper coffee cups you were throwing at Gibbs’s head.

“Your aim is shit, L/N!” Gibbs yelled after he easily dodged the last one.

“Bite me!” You threw a pen at his head that time. It hit his forehead (sideways, thankfully) and bounced onto his desk.

McGee was frozen. He thought, any second, Gibbs was going to pull a gun on you and shoot you dead in the middle of NCIS.

But instead, Gibbs grinned. “Now that was a good shot.”

You gave him the middle finger in response.

McGee looked at Tony, and Tony only shook his head. “You have to let ‘em get it out,” Tony said.

“Where’s my list, Tony?” Gibbs called from his desk, clearly unamused that Tony thought he had downtime while the two of you argued.

Tony dropped the magazine quickly. “Coming, boss.”

“McGee,” Gibbs stared. “Do you want an invitation to your desk?”

“No,” McGee said quickly. “No, boss.” He scampers off to his seat.

“I have something,” you mutter.

“Do you now?” Gibbs turned toward you. “What is it?”

“You need a haircut,” you muttered, snatching a file off your desk. You nearly threw it at Gibbs, saying, “I’m getting lunch.”

McGee doesn’t remember when he was more shocked. Before you left with the arguing, or after you returned from lunch with a coffee and a cookie — for Gibbs.

+++

Ever since you started at NCIS, that is how it has been.

You don’t know when the switch flipped, all you know is that now, arguing with Gibbs doesn’t ‘blow off steam’ like it used to. You don’t feel better after it, and it doesn’t feel like an inside joke anymore. It feels real.

And that bothers you.

It bothers you especially because the heat is all coming from him. You noticed it when he threatened to fire you two days ago. Despite all the arguments, he’s never done that. Not once. Not to you.

But he seemed serious when he said it. So serious that you backed off immediately, genuinely worried for your job’s safety.

After a few days, though, it’s really starting to piss you off.

“Abby, I don’t know what it is,” you sigh. “But I’m ready to rip his head off. For real this time.”

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t be,” Abby shrugs. “Gibbs pisses me off sometimes, too.”

“This is different, though,” you murmur. “I can tell. It’s like he’s seriously mad at me, but I— I don’t know why.”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“No, if I do that then I’ll get some Marine lecture about insecurity and honestly, I’m not in the mood for that today.”

“Yeah,” Abby frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what?” Gibbs announces himself in his usual way: by being nosy.

“That Y/N has to…” Abby looks at you for help.

“That I have a date tonight,” you cover. “A blind one. Friend set me up. They’re never fun. You know how it is.”

Gibbs’s expression is unreadable, even to you, and that’s troublesome.

“You’re talking about blind dates,” he says, taking a step closer to you, “when we have a dead Marine?”

“He’s not gonna get any deader,” you shrug. And you were helping Abby with some of the evidence while Tony and McGee were out interviewing.

Gibbs takes another step. “You think this is funny?” And another. His nose might as well be touching yours now.

“I think,” you pause, rummaging through your jacket pocket for a moment before you find what you’re looking for. “You need a mint.” In one swift motion, you’re popping a breath mint into Gibbs’s mouth, patting him on the cheek once its in. “Better.”

Instead of spitting it back out at you, like you expected him to do, he tongues it over to his cheek. “Are you done?”

“Depends,” you say. “How long are you going to stand there until you remember this tactic doesn’t work on me?”

It’s a joke, truly. You had told him once that the last time a man got that close to your face, he kissed you. You had this shit-eating grin on your face when you told him, too. Gibbs took it as a note to never get in your face the way he does with Tony and McGee.

Except today, apparently.

Reluctantly, though, Gibbs concedes, and steps away from you.

“I’ll be at my desk,” you smirk, walking past him. “Bye Abby.” She waves to you with a smile that turns into a frown when Gibbs scoffs.

“That’s where you should be anyway,” Gibbs calls out.

You throw him two middle fingers before you disappear.

Once you’re gone, Gibbs turns to Abby. “What have you got, Abs?”

Abby grins, staring at him with two raised eyebrows, tapping her toe against the floor.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says. “I just don’t think green is your color, Gibbs.”

He knows exactly what she’s getting at, but he doesn’t reply.

+++

This continues for another week, and it gets worse.

Gibbs puts you with Tony every chance he can get, even though he knows the work takes twice as long when the two of you are paired. He makes you stay at the office with Abby while everyone else goes out. You’re barely around Gibbs for more than three minutes before he’s making some excuse to go somewhere else, to talk to some random person — clearly to be anywhere except beside you.

It’s exhausting, at this point. You’re ready to give up.

You have, honestly. You’ve stopped trying to talk to him. You stopped wishing him a good morning or night a few days ago. You’ve even stopped telling him when you’re going to get lunch, so when you disappear, he has to ask McGee or Tony where you went.

Every single time, McGee and Tony share looks before saying, “Lunch, boss.”

Gibbs doesn’t know why, but every single time he realizes you’ve left without saying anything, it hurts. 

You don’t even bring him coffee anymore.

“Tony, McGee, I want you both to go talk to our Marine’s parents,” Gibbs orders. “They had something to do with his disappearance, even if they don’t want to admit it. One of you, talk to them. The other, start snooping.”

You’re sitting at your desk, quietly mulling over the Marine’s file, and waiting for Gibbs to bark some order at you. Or, if he’s keeping up his act, he won’t speak one word to you since he’s already given you one order for the afternoon — and you’ve yet to complete it.

You almost want to make a bet with yourself about which it’ll be.

“Do you want coffee?”

You keep reading, not even sure if the question is directed at you.

“L/N,” Gibbs says. “I asked if you wanted coffee.”

Looking up from the file, you shake your head. “No thanks.” And you go back to the Marine’s background.

Gibbs sighs. You’re like him: you never turn down coffee.

You hear his chair squeak as he gets up, his footsteps against the carpet as he walks toward your desk. And then the file is plucked from your hands.

“Gibbs,” you mutter. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Don’t care,” he replies, closing the folder and tossing it on his desk. “Up. We’re getting coffee.”

“I said no thank you.”

“And I said, get up.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your anger that is already boiling. “No.”

Gibbs tries to control his face. “Agent L/N, if I have to drag you into that elevator, I will. It was not a suggestion. It was an order. Up.”

With a huff, you stand, walking around your desk and past Gibbs, knocking your shoulder against his on the way.

He’s ready to throttle you just for that, but he doesn’t.

You wait by the elevator with crossed arms. He presses the down arrow and waits, silently.

The doors open and you step inside first, grinding your teeth to keep from yelling at him. He steps in after you. A few seconds after the doors close and the elevator starts moving, he flips the emergency switch.

“Here we fucking go,” you roll your eyes, not caring about being polite anymore since he clearly isn’t going to either.

“Do you have a problem, L/N?”

“Do you, sir?”

Gibbs pauses. You only use ‘sir’ when you’re beyond pissed at him. You’ve only used it once before.

“I have a problem with your tone,” he says evenly. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into you?” You turn your body to face him. “You’ve been ignoring me for a week, you’ll barely look at me, and you leave the room every time I walk in. What the fuck is wrong with you, Gibbs?”

“I’m your boss, Y/N, I’m not supposed to be your friend.”

“But you are!” you yell. “You are and it sucks because right now I just want my best friend back! But he seems to have his head shoved too far up his ass to even give a damn.”

“And mine has been acting like something crawled up her ass and died for as long as I can remember!”

“Because you piss me off!”

“I’m a bastard! What else do you expect from me?”

“To man up and stop acting like you don’t want to kiss me!”

Gibbs scoffs, looking away from you. “Oh, please.”

“You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid, Gibbs,” you say with no remorse. Because it’s true. And it’s about time he owns up to it.

“Do I?” He steps closer to you, backing you into the railing of the elevator.

“I think you do,” you reply, tilting your head back to meet his eyes, and to put your lips even closer to his than they were. One more step and he’d be all but kissing you.

“I think you’re forgetting Rule 12.”

“Rule 12 is the most bullshit rule you have,” you mutter. “Especially when you’re one inch away from fucking me right now.”

“You have no idea the things I’d do to you.”

“Try me.”

He thinks about it for a moment, smirks, then steps away from you.

You scoff. “Just as I expected.”

Gibbs flips the emergency switch with a laugh. “And what did you expect, L/N?”

“That you wouldn’t be man enough to do something about it,” you shrug. “Looks like I’ll agree to that blind date I have tonight. He might be nice. Maybe better than the last one. I could invite him back to my place—”

Before you have a chance to even think about continuing, Gibbs has flipped the emergency switch and slammed you against the wall of the elevator, both hands on either side of your shoulders, caging you in.

You smirk. “Problem, boss?”

“You have such a smart mouth you should consider yourself lucky that we have a missing Marine. Because if we didn’t have a job to do, Agent L/N, I’d fuck you right here in this elevator so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk out of it.”

Your eyes almost glow with lust. “Is that a promise?”

He stares you down, not blinking or moving.

Rolling your eyes, you finally take matters into your own hands and push your face forward, connecting your lips.

Gibbs is stunned for a moment, feeling your lips against his, and then he’s ravenous. You’ve pissed him off beyond belief, and he’s going to make you pay for it. Quickly.

Instead of teasing your lips with his tongue, he bites your lower lip, forcing you to gasp, and his tongue pushes between your lips with ease. Without looking, because he doesn’t need to, he unbuttons your pants, yanking the zipper down, and maneuvering his hand inside, only to be met with nothing.

You’re naked underneath these pants.

You smirk when you feel him falter. “What?” you murmur against his lips. “It’s laundry da—Ah!” The sneaky bastard.

“What?” he mocks you, smirking against your cheek, nipping at your earlobe while his index finger massages your walls. “I thought this was what you wanted, huh?”

You whine loudly and he shushes you, putting his other hand over your mouth.

“You’re going to cum all over my hand, and you’re going to make it quick.”

You nod dumbly, hips jerking against his movements, gasping when he adds a second finger.

“You’ve got two minutes,” he says. “Starting now. You either cum in two minutes or you don’t. Your choice.”

You’ve cum in less time, so you don’t see it as a challenge, especially not when it’s Gibbs who has his fingers buried in you, his body pressed against yours, whispering dirty things in your ear.

But two minutes pass quicker than you expect them to. Gibbs can feel your walls beginning to spasm, but the seconds are running out.

“Times up,” he says, pulling his fingers from your heat. He watches you, your eyes closed, standing right on the edge, but unable to go over it now that he’s left you. You look like a painting, mouth open, sweat glistening on your neck.

“Gibbs…” you murmur, nearly whine, opening your eyes when he only hums in response because he has his fingers in his mouth, tasting you.

He reaches behind him and flicks the emergency switch, causing you to scramble, your trembling hands fumbling with your pants. He swats your hands away gently, zipping you up. For someone who just fucked you with that hand, it’s incredibly steady.

“There,” he whispers. He kisses your forehead gently, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m sorry I’ve been more of a bastard than usual lately.”

“You’re forgiven,” you smirk, “on one condition.”

He already knows what you mean. “Later,” he says.

The elevator dings and your eyes widen, wondering why Gibbs isn’t moving. The second these doors open, whoever is standing there will know. God forbid if Tony and McGee are back and standing there—

But Gibbs sent the elevator to Autopsy, and outside stands only Ducky, hat on his head and coat over his arm. It must be his lunch time.

Ducky smiles knowingly, looking between the two of you. “It’s about time, Jethro.”

Gibbs shakes his head, waving the doctor inside. “Thanks, Duck.”

Happily, Ducky steps inside, standing next to you. He nudges your arm gently. “I tried to get him to come to his senses months ago, Y/N. I’m truly sorry it took him so long.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, Ducky,” you nudge him back. “It’s not your fault he’s a bastard.”

You and Gibbs share a look, and he raises his eyebrows at you, letting you know you’ll be paying for that later, too.

+++

Once the Marine is found — alive and well, though his career in the Navy won’t be any more — Gibbs doesn’t have to ask twice if you want to crash at his place.

Tony and McGee are long gone, not having to be asked twice about going home, either. But you stayed back a little at the office, waiting Gibbs out, wondering what it’ll be.

Eventually, he came over to your desk, turning off your lamp. You looked up at him with a tired smile. He nodded his head, said, “Come on,” and that was all it took.

Late at night, NCIS is barren, so Gibbs holds your hand as you walk out to his truck. Like a true gentleman, he opens the door for you and shuts it.

The ride to his place is quiet, but once you’re there, it all starts again.

“I can’t believe you talked to Ducky about me.”

Gibbs scoffs, tossing his keys on the counter. “I had to. Do you have any idea how hard you are to figure out?”

“Back at you,” you snicker, kicking your shoes off by the couch. “Abby has heard plenty about you pissing me off. I thought our bickering was a joke!”

“It is!”

“Until you threatened to fire me!”

“Because instead of doing your job, you talked about dating—”

You snap your fingers. “There it is.”

“There what is?”

“Your jealousy is showing, Gibbs. This is what I mean: you look stupid.”

“I look stupid, huh?” he fires back, once again getting right in your face. “Sweetheart, you have no idea how stupid you’re about to look.”

“Fucking try me.”

“Oh, believe me,” he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I will.”

Before you have a chance to figure out what he’s doing, he’s already done it.

“Gibbs!” you squeal, beating your fists on his back. “Seriously?!”

He literally threw you over his shoulder, and now he’s carrying you to his bedroom. Like a sack of potatoes.

“I think I kinda like this view,” he muses, smacking your ass, earning another squeal from you.

“Bastard,” you chuckle, poking his sides.

“That is what they call me.” You can hear his grin.

Once inside his bedroom, he sets you down, grinning even wider when you glare at him.

“I could’ve walked.”

“Ah,” he shakes his head, pulling you back into his arms. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Damn him, you think. Damn him for being this good.

“Now,” he says softly, one hand cupping your cheek. “Where did we leave off?”

“You leaving me hanging,” you pout. “Your stupid two minutes.”

“We have all night tonight,” he says, but it sounds more like a warning. “I’m sure I can fix that.”

“You better.”

Clothes come off randomly, in between heated kisses and muttering from the both of you. Even making out can’t stop you both from bickering.

“Really?” Gibbs says disbelieving. “It’s laundry day, but you have a bra on?”

“Would you like my nipples to be out at work?”

He raises his eyebrows, no doubt considering it for a moment.

“Around Tony?” you add and immediately, Gibbs shakes his head. “That’s what I thought.”

Gibbs glares before unclipping your bra with ease, tossing it onto his dresser — definitely on purpose. You don’t know if you’ll be getting that back.

Left only in his underwear, you tug at the elastic and he kicks them off, now both of you bare, no more barriers between the two of you.

Carefully, he lays you down on his bed, making sure you’re comfortable against the pillows. He takes his time, kissing all over your face, then your neck, nipping and sucking and leaving marks that you’ll scold him for in the morning. But right now, it’s Heaven.

He begins to kiss down your body, to your chest, but you start to whine, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?”  

“I want you inside of me,” you whisper. “Please. Now.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he smirks.

He crawls back up the bed, slotting his body in between your legs. Instinctively, you wrap them around his hips, hooking your heels together at the small of his back, pulling him closer.

“We’ve got all night,” he reminds you, kissing you all over, sensing how eager you are.

“I know,” you smile, running your fingers through his hair. “But I want you now.”

He decides not to tease you any longer, reaching down to guide his head inside of you. You both gasp when he slides in all the way, and you roll your hips immediately, wanting more already.

“Patience,” he warns. “I’m taking my time with you.”

And he does.

He starts out slow, barely pulling out at all before moving back in, rolling his hips against yours, savoring this feeling. He speeds up when he feels your walls beginning to convulse around him, unable to hold himself back from slamming into you.

“Gibbs,” you breathe, nails clawing at his head.

“Jethro,” he corrects lightly.

“Jethro,” you repeat, whimpering when he begins to slam into you with no mercy. “Oh my god, Jeth— Ah! I’m gonna cum—”

“Good,” he growls, moving his lips back to your neck, burying his face there. “Do it.”

A few more thrusts and you’re gone, tensing and trembling in his arms, crying out into his ear. The feeling is godly to him, and he knows he won’t last much longer.

“I need to pull out,” he warns, voice low.

You tighten your legs around him, pressing on the back of his neck, keeping him pinned right where he is. “Don’t you dare.”

You feel him grin into your neck and then he groans, lifting his head to kiss you, his tongue pushing past your lips with ease. He swallows your moans, relishing in the feeling of your walls already beginning to pulse around him again.

The second time you cum, the feeling makes him lose his bearings, and then he’s pounding into you, filling you with his load. When you feel him twitch inside of you, it’s like your orgasm doubles in size, and you’re clinging to him like you’ll float away if you don’t.

Gibbs puts nearly all of his weight on you, holding you down, holding him inside of you as he pants in your ear.

“Shit,” he mutters. “What are you doin’ to me?”

Chuckling, you pull him in for another kiss.

+++

After rolling around in the sheets some more, the two of you take a shower, and then crawl back in bed.

But you can’t sleep. You’re thinking about anything and everything, and it seems like Gibbs is, too.

A lot of what you’re thinking about, you don’t even know if it’s worth bringing up. Or if it doesn’t need to be brought up tonight, if it can be dealt with later. If you want to deal with it later.

“Are you awake?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You roll over and face him, loving the way he looks in the moonlight. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna go work on the boat?”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

“I’ll get the coffee,” you grin, tossing the covers off of your body.

Gibbs meets you at the doorway, pulling you in by your hips, kissing you deeply. You almost think he’s going to take you back to bed before he pulls away, just staring into your eyes.

“What?” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “You know I don’t want this to be a one-night-only thing, right?”

Relief floods your body. “Me either,” you murmur. “I want it to be more.”

“I’m not good at marriage,” he blurts, like he needed to get it off his chest.

“Well, I know that,” you grin, patting his chest lightly. He laughs. “It’s a good thing I’m not the marrying type.”

He can’t help but kiss you again. All this time, he’s been holding back, because there’s been this voice in his head, telling him you’d want a husband. You’re younger, you’re beautiful, why wouldn’t you?

But then he thinks, you’re young, you’re beautiful, why would you?

“I decided a long time ago that marriage isn’t for me, Jethro,” you continue, wanting him to know the full truth, right now. “So you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smiles.

“So are we good, then?”

“We’re good,” he nods. “We’re good. Still wanna work on that boat?”

“You mean do I still want to watch you work on a boat? Absolutely. You probably look sexy as hell.”

“I’ll teach you a few things,” he says with a smirk.

You return the expression. “I’m sure you will.”

+++

At work the next week, Tony catches you and Gibbs walking in together, clearly having spent the night together as well. He says nothing when Gibbs is around (of course), but the second he leaves, Tony is nosy as hell.

“Something to share, Y/N?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, logging onto your computer. “You got something to say?”

Tony narrows his eyes. “You came in with Gibbs.”

“We got here at the same time,” you shrug. “Happened to get to the elevator at the same time. It happens.”

“What happens?” Gibbs asks, sneaking up on Tony like always.

“Nothing, boss,” Tony straightens up. “How’s your coffee?”

Gibbs stares at Tony.

“Right,” Tony heads back to his desk quickly.

You share a smile with Gibbs, deciding to keep up appearances as usual. “What? No coffee for me?”

“Get your own, Agent L/N,” he says, sending you a wink.

When you get up to do just that an hour later, Gibbs meets you in the elevator.

[brianandthemays]

Paper Rings (Ben Hardy x reader)

Hello!!! First of all: Thank you to @queen-irl-af for beta reading and helping me out!! Love ya! Second! I used the song Paper Rings by Taylor Swift as the main inspiration so give it a listen

Third: There will be a second part coming out soonish!!!!!

and as always: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REBLOG, SEND AN ASK, COMMENT, AND LIKE! YOU’RE YOUR FEEDBACK MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!

Warnings: There is slight smut so 18+ only, please. If I find out you’re underage I will have to block you! Also fluff, angst, and fluff. It’s kinda cute

Word Count: 5.8K

_________________________________________________

The house was foggy with smoke. When your friend invited you to this party you didn’t realize that people would basically just be smoking weed the whole time. Now you were stuck sitting in the corner with a drink in your hand, watching as your friend, and ride, climb high enough to cloud nine. You swiped out your phone and groaned when you realized it was dead. Taking the final sip of your drink you stood to pour yourself another one. You grabbed a drink and started to pour when you glanced outside. There was a guy out there, smoking what looked like a cigarette and just looking up at the sky. You grabbed your drink and walked towards him. When you opened the door, he glanced back at you nodding in acknowledgment. You shot him a smile and wrapped your arms around yourself, it was colder than you’d thought I’d be.

           “Cold in’nit,” he commented, bringing his cigarette to his mouth.

           “Yeah.” You shivered and glanced up at the sky. “Moon looks nice.”

He shrugged and blew out some smoke. You gave him a sideways glance before walking over to one of the patio chairs to sit down. The smoke from his cigarette was nauseating but not as bad as the pungent smell of the weed inside. You took a moment to take him in. Up close you could tell he was quite attractive. His eyes were a unique color of green and he had blonde hair with a few curls in it. You could tell he was fit under his clothes and you felt drawn to him.

           “Not your scene?” he asked, nodding inside. You glanced up at him, breaking out of your observation.

You shook your head. “Smoking anything usually makes me sick.”

           “Go home,” he suggested.

           “My ride is high as a kite right now,” you explained with a chuckle. “So, I guess I’m stuck here.” He put out his cigarette and threw it in the trashcan outside. “What about you?”

           “My vice is cigarettes. I’ll get high every now and then but not nearly as often,” he replied. “I’m Ben Jones by the way.”

You looked up at him; he was holding out his hand to you, so you took it. “(Y/N).”

His hand was slightly calloused and brushed your hand the right way, sending a shock down your arm. You swallowed thickly looked at his emerald eyes. He let go and cleared his throat.

           “I’m friends with Rog,” he explained. “My flatmate first year.”

           “Cheryl’s my friend,” you offered. “I think she’s got a thing for Rog.”

           “Is she the chick with blonde highlights?” he questioned looking through the glass door.

You furrowed your eyebrows standing up to stand next to him. There in Roger’s lap was Cheryl practically eating his face off. His hand was on her breast as they swallowed each other and you groaned, officially coming to terms with your fate.

           “That’s her,” you conceded, putting your face in your hands. He laughed and brought a hand to your shoulder in comfort. The shock was back, sending electricity down your back. You looked over at him, a smile on your lips and a lip between your teeth. He licked his lips and smirked at you. Boy, the smirk was really doing something to you. He turned towards you, shortening the distance between the two o fup. 

           “You live far?” he murmured, his breath fanning across your face.Your heart was pounding as you shook your head, staring up at him through your eyelashes and he continued. “Maybe I can take you home.”

You raised an eyebrow and he copied, as if challenging you to resist him. Of course, how could you say no to the magnetic pull that was taking force on you?

           “Please,” you answered, your own playful smirk on your face. “Take me home.”

His smirk turned into a smile and he reached won to grab your hand. You gasped and almost spilt your drink as he tugged you inside.

           “Slow down!” you shouted, trying not to laugh.

           “Shit, sorry,” he apologized, coming to a stop.

You gulped down the rest of your drink and threw your cup onto the counter. “Okay, let’s go.”

The two of you run out of the house to his car. The second you shut your door you reach over and grab his shirt bringing him to your lips. He brought his hand to the back of your head, roughly smashing you further into him.  You bit his bottom lip and pulled back slightly.

           “Take me home.”

The second you got to his house, he had you against the wall. His lips touching every inch of exposed skin. Every kiss left fire in it’s wake and you felt like you would burn down. He pulled back enough to pull your shirt over your head but then immediately latched his lips back to your throat. His hands reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall down your arms to the floor.

           “God, you’re so beautiful,” He sighed, pulling back to look at you. You felt so adored under his gaze; the way he looked at you was so adoring it made your breath catch in your throat.

He brought his lips down to your chest, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You let a moan out of your mouth tangling your fingers in his hair. You found you hips bucking forward, looking for some kind of friction. Ben slotted a leg between yours allowing you to grind against his thigh as he suckled on your breast. He moved his lips right above your nipples and suck a mark into your skin, causing you to whimper. He pressed one more kiss to it before moving up to kiss your lips again.

           “Please just fuck me,” you groaned against his lips.

He smirked and pulled you away from the wall. “That can be arranged.”

The rest of the night was a blur of pleasure. But the whole time, it felt so different from your other hookups. He was so loving and delicate. Every step of the way making sure you were okay and comfortable. When it was done, he made sure to clean up and take care of you before collapsing next to you.  You laid awake starring at the ceiling, breathless. Who was this guy? Ben… Ben who? You needed to get up and charge your phone so you could get out of here.

You glanced over at the man next to you satisfied that he was truly asleep before getting up and wandering around the room. Next to his bed you found and out lit with a plug in it and plugged your phone in. He mumbled in his sleep on the bed but didn’t stir as you waited for your phone to turn back on. Eventually, it lit up in the dark and you glanced over at Ben to make sure he didn’t wake up. So far you were in the clear. Once your phone loaded up, you went to google maps to see how far your house was. It wasn’t far, the lyft wouldn’t be too much. 

The closest lyft was 10 minutes away, so you had some time. Now, who was this guy? He said his name was Ben… but Ben what? You looked over at him to make sure he was still passed out before crawling to look at his wallet. Broke, not that you were going to take his money. There was his ID. Ben Jones. Ben Jones was the name of the incredibly attractive man snoring loudly on the bed next to you.

Then your phone dinged, letting you know your lyft was close. You felt kinda bad, but you couldn’t stay there. Instead, you wrote a note. Grabbing a pen from his kitchen you scribbled a note on a piece of paper.

           Thanks for the great night, maybe see you around.

                          X (Y/N)

The next morning, you woke up with a headache. You groaned and looked over at the clock; it was noon. You furrowed your eyebrows and put a hand to your forehead. Then in through the door came Cheryl.

           “Where the fuck were you last night?” she screeched, glaring at you.

           “Shut up! Shut up!” you grumbled at her, your head pounding.

She came over to the side of the bed and sat down.

“You ditched me!” she continued loudly. You rolled over and put your pillow on your head to block her out. “Where did you go?”

Then it came back to you. Going outside, leaving with that guy, oh my god. Ben. Ben Jones. The amazingly attractive man you had sex with last night. You sat up and looked over at Cheryl.

           “What?”

           “What do you know about Ben Jones?” you asked hesitantly.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped.

           “You didn’t…” she gasped. You buried your face in your hands and she squealed causing you to cringe again.  “Ben Jones? As in rugby playing actor Ben Jones?” You reached over and grabbed your phone, ow at 100%, you opened Instagram. “I almost got with Roger, but he forgot my name. Called me Charlotte or something.”

She kept talking but you tuned her out, looking up “Ben Jones” on Instagram. He popped up quickly, pictures of him playing rugby and ads for shows he was in littered his feed. He was, without a doubt, quite attractive. But there was also something childish in his eyes. A goofy look in his smile. You found yourself smiling to yourself.

           “Are you even listening to me?” Cheryl humphed. You mumbled an apology before throwing off the covers and getting out of bed. “Where are you going?”

           “We’re out of milk!” you called back to her. Really you just had to get out of the house. You had to get some fresh air and call Joe.

           “If you’re going to the store, can you get some cheese too? I need to make my quiche!”

You headed out into the London air. The first thing you did was call Joe. Joe had been your friend since you were little. Your best friend to be exact.

           “Joe!” you shouted when he answered.

           “Dear God, don’t shout into the phone,” he retorted. “What’s going on?”

You told him everything. The party and everything that happened after. The intimate moments with Ben that were delicate and careful. The way his touch sent flames down your spine. Finding out he was a rugby player and, most importantly, how his stupid goofy smile wouldn’t leave your mind.

           “Damn, you’ve been in London for one semester and you’re already fitting in!” he commented.

           “Shut up, totally not the right thing to be focusing on right now!” you hissed. “The problem is I left this morning and now I don’t have any way to find him.”

           “Did you—”

           “Yes, I stalked him on the internet,” you interrupted. “He’s a certified hottie.”

           “Well chica, maybe message him,” Joe suggested.

You cringed, walking into the supermarket. “Not exactly subtle, Joe.”

Joe scoffed over the phone and you made your way to the cheese aisle. Cheryl’s cheese choices were very specific and had to be a certain brand or she’d make you go back, and that was not your ideal day.

           “Are you going for subtly?” he asked. 

You grunted, grabbing the cheese you know she likes before heading to the dairy section. As you turned the corner, and froze, turning right back into the aisle.

           “Joe, omigod, he’s right there,” you growled into the phone. “what do I do?”

Joe laughed loudly and you frowned. “Okay, don’t worry, just don’t give him a cold shoulder, that’ll make your situation even worse. Maybe say something, did he see you?”

You peaked around the corner again and he was still looking at some bottles of wine. Lord, his eyes were almost as green as the wine bottles. You pulled back into the aisle, smiling at an elderly woman as she walked back.

           “I don’t think so,” you told him.

           “Okay here’s what you’re gonna do,” Joe started. “You’re gonna walk up to him and casually tell him that you want him to wreck you every night for the rest of your life.”

           “JOE!” you whisper shouted.

           “Am I wrong?” he defended. “Now go and call me back later.”

Then he hung up and you cursed under your breath. Then you sucked a large breath and walk out of the aisle. You approached him and he looked up. His eyes flashed with recognition, and a smirk started to come over his lips. Flashes of the night before hitting you hard. His lips on your chest, on your stomach, on your thighs, on your... oh lord. And you panicked. And instead of walking towards him, you walked right past him, feeling his eyes follow you past him. You mentally slapped your forehead and turned around, but he was gone.

           “Fuck.”

You didn’t see him again for a few weeks, maybe a month when Cheryl invited you to another party. You were hesitant to go, not wanting a repeat of last time but she wore you down. And again you found yourself standing by yourself in a corner. You took out your phone and you swore it was déjà vu. Your damn phone was almost dead, again.

           “You need a charger?” a deep voice behind offered. You turned and saw him, and those deep eyes. You nodded, suddenly finding your voice gone. “Ah, so you do remember me.”

You scrunched your mouth into a smile. “Ben… right.”

           “That’s right, (Y/N),” he chuckled. The way he said your name sent a shiver down your back. “Thought you might’ve been too drunk to remember.”

You frowned, that was rude. “I had only had one drink,” You defended.

           “Oh, was that rude?” He raised his eyebrows, a playful look in his eyes. “I was confused because I saw you in the supermarket, the next day. And you gave me a cold shoulder.”

Fuck. He had you on a line and you took the bait. He held out a charger to you and you took it, deliberately brushing your fingers against his, trying not to show the effect he was having on you. You turned from him and started searching for a plug.

           “Nothing to say to that?” he prompted, hoping to reel you in.

           “What can I say?” you returned over your shoulder. “Sorry I hurt your feelings.”

He let out a huff of air, smiling at you. Two could play at this game. The only question was who would cave first. But who knew if he’d been thinking about you like you’d been thinking about him? All you could do was hope and pray you didn’t make a fool out of yourself again. You finally found a plug and got your phone charging before turning back to Ben, who had been following you around.

           “What brings you back out to the party?” he asks, leaning against the wall.

You smiled coyly at him. “Something in air, I guess. And you?”

           “Call it intuition,” he replied, a smirk pasted on his face.

God you wanted him. You wanted to feel the same passion you had last time. You wanted to feel his hands roam your body, sending flames spiraling around your body. That couldn’t have been the same feeling you had every time you hooked up with someone. But you couldn’t let it be that easy no matter how much you wanted it. And you could feel his want too, it was practically radiating off of him. But the longer you made him wait, the better it would feel.

           “Wow, great minds… huh,” you quipped.

           “Suppose so,” he answered.

There was silence between you. An eye game. His eyes were darting between your eyes and your lips and your body. Yours stayed put on his eyes, watching him as he looked you over. God you wanted him. His lips were so perfect and you wanted to feel them all over your body.

           “So, do you want to…” He motioned with his hand towards the door. You had him right where you wanted him, and you knew what you had to do, no matter how much your body was telling you to do the opposite.

           “Actually, no… I don’t think so,” you replied simply.

His eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Oh?”

           “Yeah, I promised Cheryl that I wouldn’t leave this time,” you explained, the smirk not leaving your face.

           “I see… I see…” He raised his hands in submission. And though you could tell he was trying to act nonchalant, there was a hint of disappointment behind his eyes. That made you hesitant but you couldn’t go back now.  “Well, I guess I’ll head out then, see you around?”

           “Maybe,” you lipped, smiling at him.

           “I like maybe…” His green eyes flickered with playfulness, the disappointment leaving slightly. “But let me tell you, I will see you again.”

And with that he was gone, and the second he was, you took a breath for the first time in, what felt like, an hour. It took everything you had not to let him have you again, but you made it. You hoped that he would keep up on his promise and you would see him soon, but you didn’t see him for another month.

You were studying for winter finals at the library. It had been a frustrating study session. You’d been in there all afternoon and still couldn’t wrap your head around the subject. Across from you the chair pulled out and someone sat down. At first you didn’t pay much attention to them but then they slide a muffin and a steamy drink across the table to you. You looked up and it was Ben. Your eyes widened and he smirked.

           “Hi,” you greeted, giving him a small wave.

           “Hey, love, how are you?” he asked, looking down at your book then up at you.

You frowned, pushing the book away. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile before leaning back in his chair. You were more than surprised to see him there. It realized you went to the same school as him, but you’d never run into him before. And he’d spent his money on you.  You pulled the drink and muffin towards yourself.

           “It’s hot chocolate and a chocolate chip muffin,” he told you. “Chocolate always helps me relax so I thought—”

           “No, Ben it’s great, thank you so much,” you replied genuinely.

           “I also heard orgasms help with stress.”

You almost spit out your sip of hot chocolate, getting some drops of your drinks on your notes. You sputtered, trying to think of a reply, desperately cleaning your notes up. But when you looked back up at him he was laughing heartily at you.

           “I’m joking, love,” he chuckled. “Mainly… unless you want to…”

           “Not at the moment,” you growled, a hint of amusement making its way into your voice. “But ask me tomorrow.”

He smiled, his stupid dorky smile when he got something he wanted. He leaned on his forearms, bringing himself closer to you. You continued to look at him as you brought the hot chocolate back to your mouth. You slowly bring your book back to yourself trying to subtly go back to studying.

           “Oh, don’t mind me, I’ll just be here,” he told you, motioning for you to continue studying.

You narrowed your eyes at him, slightly confused as to why he would just want to sit there and watch you study but he looked perfectly happy. So, you continued studying; picking at your muffin and flipping through the pages. Suddenly, things were starting to make sense and you realized, Ben’s presence was calming. He just sat there scrolling on his phone, looking up at you every now and then. But still, he was like a white noise, keeping you focused. Eventually, you felt content with your studying and closed your book.

           “So, what can I do to pay you back for the sustenance?” you asked, grabbing you back to pull out your purse.

“Be my date.” He answered almost immediately. “To Roger’s party this weekend I mean.” Your mouth dropped and you found yourself at a loss for words. “I mean, please? I feel like we always end up together anyway.”

You found yourself in a staring contest with him. You couldn’t deny the want you felt whenever you were around him. It felt like a magnet pulling you towards him and you wanted to be on his arm the whole night. Laughing with him, drinking with him, falling asleep on his arm. So, what was the harm? He was asking you.

           “Okay.”

The day of the party came a lot quicker than you expected. Your finals were over, your bags were packed and all you had left was this party. Not that you weren’t excited to go, you always loved a party and now you had Ben as your so-called ‘date’, so what could go wrong. You just wore some jeans and a nice sweater you had. Ben was at your apartment at 7 ready to take you to Roger’s house.

           “Wow, you look great,” he complimented you. You felt your cheeks heat up and you turned around to avoid letting him see. “Will Cheryl be there?”

           “No, she’s already headed home for the winter. Left last night,” you informed him. This left the house empty in the case that something may happen with you and Ben. You planned this, and Cheryl was ecstatic.

           “Oh, so house is empty?” he asked.

           “Yup.”

           “Ah.”

Silence. Then he held out his hand to you and you took it. He held you close as you walked through the London night. It was freezing. Snow covered the ground from an earlier flurry and the roads were barren save for ice. Ben was bundled up nicely while you found your sweater failing you, causing you to shiver in the cold.

           “Oh, love,” he chuckled, pulling his jacket off his shoulders to drape over your shoulders. You thanked him softly, pulling the jacket closer around yourself. It smelt good. Like warmth with an undertone of cigarettes. It smelt like him.

Not much later you arrived at Roger’s house. Ben dragged you inside, waving and high fiving people along the way, but keeping his hand in yours the whole time. Eventually, you found your way to a free couch where Ben dropped you off.

           “You want a drink?” he asked, standing in front of you.

           “Sure,” you replied. He smiled at you and walked off to find you a drink. You felt happy. It was weird to think that a guy you hooked up with once a few months ago was now playing a game of cat and mouse with you. But you were ready to be done playing. And maybe tonight you’d be lucky.

A few other kids from school came and sat around you, smiling politely. You returned the smile and shifting to find a comfortable position.

           “So, you’re here with Ben?” one of them asked. It was one of the boys. You just nodded. “He’s dope.”

           “What’s your name?” a girl to your left asked.

           “(Y/N),” you told her. She seemed nice enough, but you still wished Ben were nearby.

           “Oh, you’re Cheryl’s roommate, right?” she exclaimed

You nodded again. “Yeah!”

Then Ben returned, carrying two drinks. He hoped over the couch, sliding his arm around you as he sat down.

           “Hey Rach! How are you,” he asked politely, handing you your drink. You moved into his side more and you didn’t see it, but that made him smile.

           “I’m good! Stephen and I were just introducing yourself to your date.” She gave you a look, moving her shoulder in a cheeky fashion. 

           “Is Kelvin here?” Ben asked.

She shook her head no, letting Stephen answer. “He still has a final tomorrow morning.”

           “Sucks to suck I guess,” Ben joked, causing them to laugh. You smiled, watching their interaction. He was so natural with other people. Everyone felt at ease around him and you could understand why. Rachel and Stephen took their leave of you, leaving you and Ben sitting on the couch together. He looked down at you as you looked around the party.

           “You look lost, love,” he told you.  

           “Sorry, I’ve just never been in the thick of a party before,” you admitted. “I’m usually with Cheryl and she usually abandons me, and I end up—”

           “In the backyard with a stranger?” he finished; his eyes playful.

           “Exactly,” you answered.

He laughed, reverberating in his chest and you could feel it. You let a blush come over your face as he took a sip of his drink. He hummed, letting you know he had something he wanted to say.

           “What do you do?” he asked.

           “Huh?”         

           “Like, other than come to parties, study and go to the supermarket, I don’t really know anything about you,” he pointed out.

           “Oh, uh… I mean I’m a Journalism major with a minor in Film and Art,” you told him. “I’m from the States… New York actually. That’s where my friend Joe lives…” He nodded for you to continue. “Um… I grew up in Albany, which is the capital of New York. But my family moved to the city after my brother moved out?

           “How old is your brother?” he asked.

           “25 now. He’s an Engineer. Runs some engineering firm in Philadelphia,” you explained. “He’s very smart. Smarter than I am.”

           “Hey, don’t say that,” Ben interrupted.

           “It’s just the truth.” You shrugged. “It’s fine. But I had to get away from my parents. Who have no trouble telling me how much better he is than me.” You blushed again. “Sorry, that was too much info.”

           “No, it wasn’t, you can keep telling me everything,” Ben encouraged.

You looked at him, no hint of insincerity. And you did want to tell him everything. But just as you were, Roger rushed into the room.

           “EVERYONE IN THE POOL!” he shouted before racing outside.

           “He’s joking, right? Its freezing outside,” you cried. But as you were talking, Ben pulled you up and started dragging you outside. “No! BEN NO!

He laughed and let go walking back towards the pool. “Let go, love. Let’s live a little tonight!”

And with that, he slipped off his sweater, and you struggled not to let your eyes bug out. He tucked his feet into a cannonball landing with a splash. You watched with wide eyes as he reemerged, shouting at the cold, but motioned for you to join him. You turned away, closing your eyes, silently battling yourself. But then you turned back around and saw him again. Him and his silly smile and his green eyes. And you couldn’t help yourself. Off you ran. And with a great jump, you splashed in after him. As soon as you hit the cold, you felt your whole body freeze up. Your clothes clung to your body and you felt the warmth leaving you.

           You breached the surface, gasping for breath. “Oh my God!” You shouted, looking for something to grab onto; to provide warmth.

           “Love, love, calm down, c’mere.” Ben’s voice washed over you and you found yourself grabbing onto him. He wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you into his chest. His chest wasn’t much warmer, but you still felt yourself heating up. More people came crashing into the pool, but you found yourself unable to see them. Just Ben and his eyes. He put his chin on top of your head, holding you tightly, rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

           “This isn’t safe,” you chattered, your teeth shaking. Ben just laughed and reached down to grab your legs, carrying you to the side of the pool. He sat you down on the top step resting his hands on either side of your hips.

           “I’ll let you borrow my sweater,” he told you. You kept your arms wrapped around his neck, keeping him close to you. You shivered, your whole body shaking. “Oh, love, you’re turning blue.”

You glared at him, moving to rest your head on his chest.  His heartbeat was strong and steady, allowing you to focus on something other than the cold. He pulled you back slightly and grabbed your hand, starting to leave the pool.

           “Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?” he murmured, pulling you up and out of the water. He picked up his sweater and found you a towel, pulling it around your arms.

Once you were dried off, you found yourself in Ben’s white sweater sitting in a hallway across from Ben. He still had a towel around his bare body, his sweater currently being used by yourself.

           “Thank you, Ben,” you said, smiling. “Tonight, has been surprisingly fun.”

           “Oh, the fun is just beginning,” he teased, poking your toe with his. The music in the main room was dully playing in the background. You blushed, looking down into your lap. “What’s wrong, love?”

You looked up at him, his green eyes shining with concern. And you really couldn’t take it anymore. You crawled towards him on all fours, his eyes widening with surprise, you settled yourself on his thighs, straddling his waist. He hands came to rest on your hips, cocking his head. It was a question and he wanted you to answer first. To let him know this was okay. So, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. This kiss was different from the frantic, horny kiss that you had in the car the first time you met him. This was slower, more languid than before. His lips moved slowly against yours, one of his hands coming up to push back some of your hair.

You slide your hands up his chest, leaning into him more. You moaned when he started to move his lips down your jaw, sucking a mark into the space right behind your ear. You brought your hands up to tangle in his hair, tugging slightly, eliciting a moan from him. You felt your breathing start to pick up and Ben moved his hands under your sweater. You moved your hands down to pull them up to your bra, giving him the permission he needed. But he still pulled back and looked at you.

           “Are you sure this is okay?” he assured. His eyes were blown open and his lips were swollen. But he was still checking on you.

           “Yes.”

And he went back in, this time the lust returned. It was heated and full of passion. He pulled your breasts out of your bra, massaging them slowly. You threw your head back, whimpering and panting heavily. Ben latched his lips to your collar, now exposed to him. The feeling of his thumbs brushing over your tits and his fingers digging into the flesh, along with his lips suck and nipping at the most sensitive areas on your neck left you weak. You let yourself go all but limp in his arms, letting him do what he wanted, letting the amazing feelings wash over you.

Soon, you found yourself in the same place you were two months ago. Laying in bed, now your bed, next to Ben. But this time you weren’t hurried to leave. Ben was lying next to you, one hand behind his head the other holding his phone. You were on your side, watching him, eyes furrowed in thought.

           “What?” Ben asked, not looking over at you.

           “Huh?”

           “You’re looking at me.”

           “Oh, I um…”

           “(Y/N).” He put down his phone a looked over at you.

You looked down, tracing your finger in your sheets. “You didn’t…” You sighed, feeling stupid. “You didn’t just ask me to Roger’s party cause you wanted to have sex with me, right?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and turned on his side. “I mean, that was part of it.” And with that you felt your heart breaking a little. Fuck. He didn’t actually like you. He just wanted to fuck you. “But not all of it. Actually, most of it is because I couldn’t get you out of my mind.” Your mouth parted slightly. “Your face, your voice, your laugh, for some reason, you were stuck. And then I saw you the next day and you… ya know.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, covering your face with your hand. 

“I’m an idiot, I hope you know that,” you told him, peaking through one of your fingers. “I saw you and wanted to talk to you but I panicked!”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s okay, I wasn’t going to let you get away.” He continued. “But I knew I wanted to see you again. And I saw you at that other party. Then I kinda was just looking for sex… but I was hoping you’d stay that time, and I’d make you breakfast and get to know you.” He blushed. “But you had Cheryl, so I knew I had to get you to come with me. As my date, somewhere. “So when Rog told me about this party, I knew I had to take you and the rest is history.” He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you to lay down on his chest. 

You snuggled into his side, looping your leg with his. “Well, maybe we can make breakfast together tomorrow morning.”

“You won’t leave me again?” he asked, looking down at you. 

You crawled up to him and connected your lips in a soft, heartfelt kiss. When you pulled back, Ben kept his eyes closed, a smile gracing his features. 

“Never.”

______________________________________________

Tagging people I think would enjoy/people I’d like to read: @redspecialty @sweet-ladyy @strangeandwonderfulconcepts @leah-halliwell92 @angiefangirlworld-2

[saltybaltic]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader - SPILLED MILK

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow x FemReader Fanfic

Prompt: A misstep causes one to spill something all over the other

Warnings: Language

Words: 1950

For @barnesrogersvstheworld 3k writing challenge. I know this is HELLA late but I tried and it’s here and I’m sorry I suck! I can only apologise for the poor and shameful quality of this story, it would appear I’m a little rusty and if I’m totally honest, endgame ruined me. I have seen that movie 5 times so far and let me tell you this for free - it hurts just as much each time! Anyway, enjoy this jumble of words I threw together ✌️

The morning had been a disaster from the word go and no amount of preparation or intervention was changing that. You had been positive the whole thing was planned to the very last detail but now as you dashed down the busy streets of New York clutching your portfolio to your chest and frantically pushing people to one side, all you could do was wonder how it had all gone so sideways.

A power cut at your apartment, losing your keys, a traffic jam downtown and an unexpected wrong turn had all lead to this moment; running desperately late for the job interview of your life. Your legs ached and your lungs burned as you checked your watch again and huffed out a breath before picking up the pace. You were now able to see the building just up the street, rushing out an apology to the man you nearly knocked flying as you approached the entrance to the foyer and attempted to straighten out your hair and clothing.

As you pushed open the doors to Stark Tower, you allowed yourself a quick calming breath and a glance at your reflection in the glass before continuing inside and starting your hunt for the reception. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, you were relieved to see that you had made it, just. A sense of calm descended on you finally, spotting the receptionist sat behind the desk and making your way over. Unfortunately your positive mood was only allowed to last a moment as no sooner had you taken a step forward you felt the weight of another person slamming into you, quickly followed by a hot liquid splashing down your front.

For just a second you were stunned, jaw slack and mouth slightly agape as you stared down at your white shirt that was now very much not white and instead covered in what appeared to be coffee. You almost couldn’t believe that something like this had happened to you, arms thrown out to the side as your brow furrowed and you looked up at the person stood in front of you holding a rather crumpled looking coffee cup.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!’ You snapped, one brow arching in question as you glared at the other woman.

To your surprise, she breathed out a laugh, lips turning up slightly at the corner of her mouth as she looked back at you seemingly unfazed by your outrage, “Well ... shit.”

“Excuse me?” You almost couldn’t believe her calm reaction to having near enough covered you in her drink. “You just walked into me with your coffee!”

Tilting her head to one side, she didn’t flinch even slightly at your tone, “Well I think an arguement could be made that it was you who walked into me.”

“Is this funny to you?! I have a ridiculously important meeting in like 3 minutes and you’ve covered half my shirt in coffee. How am I supposed to go in there now?”

Your voice had increased in volume and your anger was blatant to anyone close by but her demeanour didn’t falter for even a second, “Look I’m sorry but you weren’t exactly looking where you were going and I couldn’t move out of the way in time.”

Shaking your head furiously from side to side, you pointlessly wiped at the front of your shirt with a napkin from your pocket and muttered under your breath, “Great, so you’re a bitch as well as clumsy.”

This time it was the man stood beside the woman that laughed as he nudged her playfully, “Wow she’s got your number.”

“Shut up Clint.” She warned, the amused twinkle in her eyes betraying her tone as she turned her attention back to you, “Look, do you need some help? There are toilets just down he-“

“I think you’ve done enough thanks.” You cut in, giving her a final glare for good measure before hastily buttoning up your jacket and side stepping around her to continue your journey to the reception.

The pair watched you go, arms folded across their chests and a slight curve to their lips as you muttered a few more profanities quietly with the first couple of steps you took. Clint released a small chuckle, “I thought she was gonna kill you Nat.”

“Me too.” She agreed, turning to Clint with a grin, “I like her.”

His laughter only increased, slinging an arm around her shoulder and turning her away from you, “One track mind as always. Come on we’re already late.”

Somehow you had found yourself sat at a desk, waiting nervously for whoever would be conducting your interview. You couldn’t help but readjust your suit jacket every few seconds in a fruitless bid to hide the large stain on your shirt. Anger still resonated in the back of your mind towards the woman who had put you in such a position but the anxiety that was now creeping in was the only thing you were able to focus on. Your heart stopped and you held your breath as the door behind you clicked open and then abruptly closed, the sound of a heels clattering on the wood floor as someone made their way into the room and settled into the chair in front of you.

“So who do we have here ...” the woman glanced down at the file in front of her as she flattened down the front of her skirt.

In a shocked daze, you couldn’t stop the words as they slipped out, “You have got to be shitting me.”

Slowly she raised her head from her papers, with an arched brow and the faintest trace of a grin teasing the corners of her lips, “Would you like to start again?”

“You ... but ... you.”

“Agent Natasha Romanoff.” She cut off your rambling, looking back down at her papers briefly, “And I assume you’re (Y/N).”

Swallowing down your surprise, you nodded your head slowly as you gave a quiet reply, “Safe assumption.”

“And you’re interviewing for... our opening in A&T.”

Feeling more out of your depth by the second under Natasha’s gaze, you managed another dumb nod, “Correct.”

With a hum of a reply, Natasha looked back down at her files, tapping her pen gently against the edge of the papers as she tucked a curl of red hair behind her ear, “How did you hear about the position?”

“Through an old friend.” You paused to clear your throat in a bid to make your voice come out stronger, “He works in the same department.”

She asked a few more questions, her eyes remaining on the forms and papers as she jotted down the occasional note. It wasn’t until you were finally starting to ease into the situation that she actually looked up and scanned over you with an amused smile, “Rough morning?”

“I...” her question took you aback for a moment, having not expected her to acknowledge what had happened earlier in the lobby, never mind with such a teasing tone, “Guess you could say that.”

“In a hurry or something?”

You pursed your lips, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as you considered whether she was simply trying to wind you up, “I was running a little late ... yeah.”

“So not great with time management?”

You opened your mouth to respond but abruptly snapped it shut as you realised you had absolutely no comeback for her remark.

“I’m joking.” She stated matter of factly, as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world before her grin broadened and she picked up her pen again, “Not great with social cues.”

“Hang on a minute.” You muttered hurriedly, sitting up further in your chair and placing your palms down on the desk, “I ... that’s not ... I ...”

You trailed off as she simply smiled back at you, a glint in her eye as she settled back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. There was a few seconds of silence as you simply looked back at one another before you blew out a breath, “And you’re joking again.”

“Relax, okay? You’re more than qualified for this position.” Natasha threw her pen down onto the desk, raking a hand through her hair before folding her hands across her stomach, “Tell me why I should recommend you for the job.”

“Because it’s the perfect position for me? I have years of experience in the field? I’ve proven myself time and time again that I can do this job and I can do it well?”

“Are these questions or statements?” Cut in Natasha, “Tell me why we should hire you.”

Taking a breath, you tried your best to come across confident with a small smile and a shrug, “Because I’m the best at what I do. And you need me.”

Natasha returned your smile as she reached across the desk and grabbed your portfolio, tipping it open and flipping through a few pages, “Well ... you’re not wrong.”

“I have more files at home if you needed them, it was just a lot to cram int-“

“This is more than enough don’t worry.” Interrupted Natasha, pushing the folded closed again and sliding it back over to you, “When can you start?”

“Well ... now.”

She laughed, rubbing at the underside of her chin as she thought for a minute, “How about Monday?”

“Are you serious?!” You blurted out, unable to quite believe you were lucky enough to have actually landed the job you so desperately wanted after such a disaster of a morning.

“I’m serious.” She chuckled, “Besides, I kind of think I owe you one.”

She gestured to your ruined shirt and you dismissed her with a bat of your hand, “Honestly, Agent Romanoff if it means getting this job then you can spill coffee on me every morning.”

Standing from her seat, she gestured to the door, “Come on, you’re gonna love the paperwork. And please just call me Natasha.”

A few days later when you arrived at the tower block for your first day of work, you made sure you had more than enough time for your 9am start. However it did nothing to settle your nerves, unable to shake the feeling that you were incredibly out of your depth surrounded by the bustle of agents. You looked around uncomfortably, not really sure if it was a terrible faux pas to arrive nearly forty minutes early for your new job and you were fairly certain you were beginning to attract attention.

A tap on your shoulder startled you, sure that you about to be questioned by security for your prolonged lingering but it seemed you needn’t have bothered as you turned on the spot and were greeted with a warm smile and an outstretched hand offering a coffee.

“Hopefully you won’t end up wearing this one.” Teased Natasha, pushing the drink into your hand before flitting her head in the direction of the elevator, “Come on I’ll show you around.”

And so began your new ritual without even realising it. You eased into life at your new job with the boost of confidence and comfort that a morning coffee with Natasha could bring you. On your second morning she had introduced you to a few other people from different departments. On your third she had taken you out into the grounds to show you all of the best quiet spots for lunch. On the fourth day you simply sat in her office and were joined by the man you had met on your first visit. You learned that Clint was an agent like Natasha. It struck you how close the pair of them seemed, laughing together and occasionally exchanging a private glance that you could just tell said more than words ever could.

It went on like this for a while, not every morning but often enough that you were no longer surprised when Natasha flopped into the chair opposite your desk and pushed a coffee over to your side. Even when you had been at the tower a little longer and were more comfortable so you didn’t necessarily need the support, you couldn’t help craving the company of the other woman on a morning.

It had been five weeks since you had been hired when your attention drifted from the computer screen in front of you to the woman now slouched in a chair at your desk.

“It’s half eight nerd, why are you working already?” Asked Natasha, sliding a drink over to you.

You shook your head and laughed quietly, “I have a lot of work to do this week.”

“You know you’re not the new girl anymore? You don’t have to work so hard to impress now.”

“I know that.” You muttered, eyes still focused on the screen as you tapped away on the keyboard.

“Need help with anything?”

Glancing across from the screen, you couldn’t ignore the warm sensation in your stomach that the wide smile on the face of the other woman brought you. If you were totally honest this had been happening more and more recently and you were doing your best to pretend it wasn’t. You found yourself thinking about Natasha more, missing her company when she wasn’t around, looking at her more carefully when you were together and noticing all the little things about her. She made you laugh without even trying, something that seemed insane to some of your colleagues who apparently found the red head nothing short of terrifying. Time with Natasha had started normal and boring enough; she had made you comfortable in your new surroundings and most of your coffee meetings had involved talking shop or the red head answering any questions you had. You had half expected her to start leaving you to your own devices after a while, sure that she would start to get bored of your company and leave you to it. You were positive it shouldn’t have made you as happy as it did that she stuck around.

A sharp click of her fingers brought you back to reality, looking over and seeing the other woman smirking at you over the top of her coffee cup, “Penny for your thoughts.”

Cleaning your throat, you tapped at the keyboard a few times to close what you were working on and turned in your chair so you were facing her properly, “Just thinking it’s been nice ... starting here and you looking out for me and stuff. I’m really grateful for your help.”

She placed her coffee down, a curious smile gracing her features, “Well ... I know we didn’t get off to the best start but, I like having you around. You’re not a pain my ass like most of the people here.”

You laughed, “Seriously Nat, you’ve made this whole thing so much easier.”

“Good.” She adjusted herself in the chair, sitting up a little straighter and folding her arms across her chest, “Your six week review is coming up.”

You didn’t fail to notice her slight shift in demeanour, “Okay ...”

“And it would normally be me doing it but ...”

As she trailed off you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at the sight of Natasha exhibiting signs of nervousness and discomfort for the first time since you had met her.

“I think ... I well I-“

“Are they firing me?”

Until now she had been staring down at the desk as she tried to mumble out a intelligible sentence but your words caused her head to snap up so she could look at you, “No! God, no! Of course not, you’re great don’t worry.”

“What’s wrong then?”

She chewed on her lip nervously as she looked back at you in a way that you couldn’t help but feel she was trying to read your mind, “I was going to ask you something this morning ... and depending on your answer, I’m not sure it would be ... appropriate for me to be monitoring you anymore.”

Rubbing at your eyes in thought, you shook your head from side to side, “Please start making sense soon, it’s still early and you’re giving me a headache.”

“Do you want to go out with me?” She had spat the words out before she had a chance to stop herself, “You know, for coffee or something. Instead of me hand delivering it.”

Gripping the edge of the desk, you rolled your chair a little closer so that you could lean on top of the wooden surface, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“If you want it to be.” She answered truthfully, mirroring your position and sitting forward in her chair so that she could fold her hands on top of the desk, “Doesn’t have to be a date. Doesn’t have to be coffee.”

“I ... are you serious?”

She breathed out a nervous laugh, “We’ve been through this, just assume I’m always serious.”

“But ... look at you!”

She shook her head gently, an amused smile on her face as she leaned a little further forward. One of her hands crept just far enough across the desk that she was able to ghost her fingertips over yours, a touch so light that you couldn’t believe how much it had made your body tingle, “Are you going to say yes or not?”

You were sure you couldn’t have looked more stunned if you tried at the idea that this gorgeous woman in front of you had any kind of trepidation about asking someone out on a date. “Of course I’m going to say yes.”

“Say it then.” Her fingers moved again slightly, this time brushing over the back of your hand, but her eyes never left yours.

You smiled, turning your hand over on the desk so that you could squeeze her fingers reassuringly, “Yes, obviously, no brainier.”

The pair of you sat like that for a minute, her hand atop yours and eyes focused on one another, both sporting what could only be described as a cheesy grin before she cleared her throat and rose to her feet, “Right I need to go, but I’ll see you at lunch?”

You narrowed your eyes playfully, “Is that where you’re taking me? The canteen?”

Natasha snorted, “You’re an idiot. We can talk about it at lunch yeah?”

“Sounds good.”

Turning on the spot, Natasha picked up her cup and made her way over to the door, pausing for a second to look back at you and smile, “Super glad I spilled coffee on you a few weeks ago.”

“Get out.” You joked, chuckling quietly, “I’m still mad no matter how cute you are.”

She quirked an eyebrow and smirked, “You couldn’t be mad at me if you tried.”

As you watched her leave and basked in the feeling only spending time with Natasha could give, you had to agree she was probably right.

[kenzieam]

You and Me and the Devil Makes Three - Chapter 1 (Eric and Fox)

Rating: M (Language, Violence, Lots of Smut)

Genre: Drama/Angst/Humour

Thanks everyone for the re-blogs and support!!! IT IS SO AWESOME!!!

@emmysrandomthoughts @beautifulramblingbrains @iammarylastar @tigpooh67 @bookwarm85  @badassbaker @captstefanbrandt  @treeleaf  @beltz2016  @girlwith100names @gaia25 @readsalot73 @slayer0507 @stone-met @lostinthebeans @lauraaan182 @girlslovestorys  @lacy-love @fuckthatfeeling  @sparklemichele @vitaevandal  @micolegg @jaihardy  @bookgirlthings @queenara4  @bluelassbird @mom2reesie @pathybo @letmagichappen @shaunarcanine @equalstrashflavoredtrash @itschibi @elaacreditava @lilu46 @tonyt1995 @jojogoo65 @littlesouthernrebel @sterek-foreverandever @kirstenisntkirsty @frecklefaceb

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I know there is a story floating around with a similar premise that I remember reading months ago: Eric and Tris being banished to a Dauntless getaway cabin to learn to get along, but if you’ve been following me you’ll know I posted an ask a few days ago to track that story down. I wasn’t able to find the particular story I was looking for to make sure my story wasn’t too similar in basic idea, so I am going ahead with mine. I have in no way intentionally duplicated anyone else’s story, but if you disagree, please private message me and we can talk.

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“You are such an asshole!”

“And you’re a bitch!”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too!”

“Hey!” Max bellowed, slamming his fist onto his desk. “You!” He roared, pointing with his finger. “Stop provoking him!”

Fox rolled her eyes and looked away.

“And you!” Max’s finger now pointed at the other. “Stop rising to the bait! How fucking old are you two anyway?!”

Eric grunted and crossed his arms.

Max gave them both the stink eye for a long moment before taking a deep breath and leaning back in his chair, folding his arms over his stomach.

“What was it this time?”

Both started yelling, trying to talk over each other and Max hammered on the desk again. “Shut the fuck up!” He roared. Fox made one last face at Eric and he sneered back; Max grabbed his pen and threw it, pinging it off of Eric’s forehead, making him yelp in surprise and Fox snort.

An actual growl rumbled in Eric’s chest and now it was Max’s turn to roll his eyes. ’Fuckin’ children,’ he muttered under his breath. Both combatants huffed in tandem and sagged back in their chairs, crossing their arms over their chests and looking away. Max prayed for strength.

“Okay, Fox… what happened this time?”

Eric opened his mouth to retort and Max stopped him with a glare of death. Only after he was sure Eric would stay quiet did he look back at Fox.

Fox glanced over at Eric before answering. “Lurch over there is just pissed because everyone knows he’s a big pussy now.”

The growl sounded again and Max raised an eyebrow. “And why would they think that?”

Fox shrugged, not quite able to hide the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Because he found a spider on his lunch tray and screamed like a girl.”

Max bit down hard on the impulse to laugh, about the only thing Eric was afraid of was spiders; he was usually able to hide it, but he must have been surprised this time.

“It was as big as a goddamn tarantula and you put it there!” Eric snarled back at Fox, who shrugged in faux-innocence.  

“Maybe it wouldn’t have been there if someone hadn’t duct-taped saran-wrap across my door-frame so I nearly broke my neck that morning trying to leave my damn apartment.”

A wolfish smile graced Eric’s face for a moment before he adopted a look of pure boredom. “Don’t know nothing about it, just like you don’t know anything about that pink dye that ended up in my hair gel!”

Fox whirled, eyes blazing, redhead temper fully stoked. “Just like you don’t know anything about how my favourite muscle shirt ended up with holes cut out over my tits!”

“That was you?” Max asked Eric, half-stunned and half-amused. That had been an epic day, he’d thought he was going to need to throw Fox in the Clink for a few hours to cool down. It matched his fear of the previous day, when Eric had been a tornado of rage in the Pit, his hair a strange, streaky peppermint colour. He’d raised hell in the barber shop for awhile and Max had wondered if he needed to send the hulking leader for a time-out.

Eric snickered and covered his mouth with his hand.

“You said you didn’t do it!” Fox screeched.

“I didn’t!” Eric bellowed back. “But it’s fuckin’ funny!”

“You did too!” Fox roared and, before Max could stop her, launched herself out of her chair towards Eric.

“Oh fuck-” Max groaned as their bodies connected in a hellish mix of growls and snarls. Eric hadn’t risen from his chair and they tipped over sideways, hitting the ground with a crash.

It didn’t happen often, but Eric was able to use Fox’s momentum against her and rolled with her, pinning her hard to the floor. She sounded like a creature from Hell as she struggled underneath Eric’s body, and Max could see that Eric was being forced to use his full weight to stop his fellow leader. Her hands clawed near Eric’s face and her spine arched as she squirmed underneath him.

“Enough!!” Max roared when it became obvious that Fox was in this for the long haul, and wasn’t about to calm down on her own anytime soon.

Fox stopped struggling and panted harshly, glaring daggers at both men.

“Are you going to play nice, little kitty?” Eric teased and Max sighed, that would only start Fox up again.

“Fuck you Eric!” She hissed, resuming her struggle. Eric threw back his head and laughed and Max shook his head, turned and reached behind him.

The jug of ice-cold water splashed over both struggling Dauntless and they gave near identical yells of shock, exploding backwards away from each other as if they were both ticking.

“Shut up, or so help me God I will send you both to the detention wing.”

Both soaked leaders grumbled under their breath, but the cold water had done it’s job and cooled their tempers. Without looking at each other they climbed back into their chairs and, much more compliant, crossed their arms and waited for Max to continue. Max snickered under his breath, they looked like petulant toddlers.

Max rested his hands on his desk and twined his hands together. “Okay, now that that bullshit is settled, I can tell you what I originally called you in for. I’m pulling you both from your regular duties and putting you on two-weeks paid leave, starting now.”

“What?” Eric barked.

“What for?” Fox demanded.

“Because you two act like a pair of goddamn children around each other! You are Dauntless leaders and you fight like cats and dogs! It’s a fucking embarrassment that I can’t put my two most capable leaders in the same room together without it turning into some ‘Lord of the Flies’ bullshit!”

“You’re Piggy,” Fox muttered, side-eyeing Eric.

“Shut up.” Eric grumbled back. “I am not.”

“Both of you shut up.” Max snapped and pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. Raising his head he sighed and continued. “I’m sending you out to The Hole.”

Fox eyes widened in shock, “Max no!”

“What the hell is The Hole?” Eric demanded.

Max gestured for Fox to field this one. She sighed and turned to look at Eric. “You would know it better as Amity Mediation Cottage # 4.”

Eric stared dumbly at Fox for a heartbeat before turning back to Max. The Hole, or Amity Mediation Cottage #4 was a secluded cabin out at the edge of Amity land. Rustic and isolated, it was where Faction leaders were sent to hash out tough inter-faction deals without distraction, or, as a punishment to force peace upon warring faction members. Eric had heard of it, by it’s official name, but Fox was born in Amity and knew the slang term. Max had threatened to send Eric there before, but had never followed through on it until now. “No fucking way.”

Max nodded and leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “You don’t go and I put you on a month’s unpaid leave instead.”

For once, Eric and Fox were united in a common goal. They both started yelling at Max variations of the same ‘fuck no I’m not going’ theme, interspersed with liberal 'fuck yous’  and the odd ‘go to hell Max!’. Max waited with the patience born of experience as leader of the most wild and uncontrollable faction until they had tired themselves out and fell back in their chairs with near identical scowls.

“Yes you are, and you’re leaving tomorrow morning; so go home and get packed.”

Fox opened her mouth for another retort and Max cut her off with a death glare, another thing born of experience wrangling Dauntless savages. She fell silent with a grumble and Max made an irritable shooing motion.

“Get out of here, don’t come back until you can get along.”

Cutting savage glares at each other Eric and Fox stood, and after a few seconds of irritated gesturing for the other to go first Fox finally sighed and stormed ahead. She threw over her shoulder as she left, “I’m driving myself, get your own truck Coulter.”

“Oh no!” Max barked. “I’ve authorized one personnel truck only, you have to get out there together!”

Fox’s look of anger was beaten only by Eric’s look of horror but they both knew better than to argue anymore. Max had made up his mind this time. Grumbling under their collective breath they stormed out of his office and in opposite directions, leaving chaos in their wake like miniature tornadoes.

Zeke wandered out of another office and leaned against Max’s doorway. “Think it’ll work?”

“They’ll either come back dead or engaged.” Max replied dryly. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Fox grumbled under her breath as she shuffled into the garage. She considered taking her sunglasses off then stopped, shaking her head slowly to not disrupt the rusty machinery screaming in her brain. In order to stomach today and the next two weeks Fox had gone out last night with her friends, then staggered home off-her-ass drunk sometime later. If she hadn’t made her friend Mali promise to wake her this morning she would still be passed out in her bed, drooling into her pillow. As it was Fox was hungover and feeling meaner than a striped snake. A quick, wary glance around revealed the garage to be empty and Fox sighed in relief; she wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, let along Eric Coulter right now.

She made her way towards the assigned personnel truck, lucky number 13, weaving only slightly, and had almost reached it when a dark chuckle sounded from the shadows to her right.

“You’re hungover.”

“How perceptive of you,” Fox grumbled, muttering ‘shit, shit, shit! in her head. Goddammit, of course Eric would be here already, lurking around to ambush her. He swaggered out of the shadows, fresh as a motherfucking daisy and grinned widely at Fox. Irritably she straightened, schooling her features into an impassive mask. He leaned forward and stared at her for a long moment, then reached up to pull off her sunglasses. Fox slapped angrily at his hand, knocking it away and sending the rusty gears in her head into a fresh round of screeching. Something flickered through Eric’s eyes but Fox was too hungover to decipher it before his face smoothed back out to it’s usual flat expression.

“Little touchy this morning, princess?”

“Fuck off Coulter.”

To Fox’s surprise, he didn’t have a witty retort and instead turned away, striding back to where he’d been hiding. Grabbing his duffel he walked over to the truck and, opening the passenger side, threw the bag in the back seat; he turned back towards Fox and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, get in doll.”

“You’re not driving.” Fox growled, more to argue than anything else.

“You certainly can’t right now.”

He was right, and it pained Fox to admit it, but that didn’t mean she had to go easily. “Fuckin’ Nose,” she muttered, turning and walking purposefully to the back of the truck. She’d just dropped the tailgate when Eric reached her side.

“What are you doing?” He demanded.

“I’m not riding in the front with you, I’ll stay back here.”

Eric stared incredulously at her for a moment. It was at least an hour’s drive to the cabin, and not all that warm outside. “C’mon, Fox-”

“Just drive Eric, the last thing I can stomach this morning is riding in close quarters with you.” Fox winced internally, that was rude, even from her. She threw her duffel in the back harder than she meant to and clamoured up, feeling Eric’s hand briefly touch her elbow to help. Plopping down on the truck box bed Fox kicked moodily at the large footlockers taking up most of the space in the back, full of food for their stay. She eyed Eric a moment before making the same irritated shooing motion Max had done yesterday. Eric stared at her for another second then sighed, slamming the tailgate closed and walking to the front. He paused as he passed Fox and she held her breath, wondering if he was going to say something, but he didn’t and kept walking. He slammed the truck door shut. The water in the large jugs stacked against the rear of the cab jiggled. The well water at the cabin was fine for showering, bathing and boiling, but they had to bring in drinking water.

The rear window rolled down and Fox could see Eric looking over his shoulder at her. “Fox, quit it. Come up here.”

“Just drive Coulter, the faster we get there, the faster we can leave.”

“Do you want a blanket at least?”

Fox didn’t answer, just leaned into the window and grabbed her own, pulling it back out through the window.

“Fine!” Eric suddenly snapped. The window began to roll up again. “BITCH!” He roared just before it closed.

Fox rolled her eyes behind her shades and leaned her back against the side. Bending her legs she rested her forearms on her knees and dropped her head back. The truck started and jolted hard forwards and Fox restrained herself from reacting, kept her head tipped back and her eyes closed.

It was cold out, and although Fox started to regret insisting she ride back here, she’d rather rip her tongue out by the roots than ask Eric to stop so she could climb in beside him. Besides, Eric may have started the morning in good humour, but Fox’s attitude had soured his and Fox would swear he was going out of his way to hit every goddamn bump on the road. Finally, Fox just pulled her duffel closer and lay down, using the bag as a pillow.

Eric glanced in the rear-view mirror. He’d been keeping an eye on Fox the entire time, and dammit, he’d stop the truck and drag her in the cab kicking and screaming if she got any bluer. He jumped slightly when he couldn’t see her back there anymore and his eyes dropped to the road behind them, had she fallen out? Fuck, she deserved it if she did, being such a bitch this morning, but Eric didn’t fancy the dressing down Max would give him for it. He lifted his head and managed to catch sight of a boot, okay, she’d just lain down in the box, not fallen out. Goddammit, was he that bad to be around? Did she have to be so fucking irritating? Fox was the only person that riled Eric up like this, and the compulsion to throttle her was an itch Eric was dying to scratch.

“Whatever, get this over with.” Eric fixed his attention to the road, they should be able to avoid each other out at this cabin, and when they got back to Dauntless they’d just keep fighting and pushing each other’s buttons, Max was just going to have to get used to it.

Finally, the rustic cottage came into view, surrounded by tall, towering trees. It seemed plain enough, nothing special or particularly memorable about it. There was a wide verandah across the front, with a pair of rocking chairs and a stack of firewood piled against the side, but other than that, it was pretty sparse, no lawn bowling competitions or horseshoe games anyway.

Eric heard thumping and scrabbling in the back then a muffled thud as Fox jumped out, landing easily in her combat boots. Slinging her duffel over her shoulder she marched past the cab and towards the cottage. Eric watched her for a moment before taking a deep breath and exiting the cab. He pulled his phone out and tapped the screen.

“You better not use that very much.” Fox called over from the deck, she’d already found the rocking chairs and was testing one out.

“Why not?” Eric snapped.

Fox gestured exaggeratedly around. “Do you see us connected to the Grid? There’s no electricity out here, no power. There isn’t even running water! This is an Amity cabin, not an Erudite Suite! How’re you going to charge said phone, oh great and wise leader?”

Fuck, it was going to be a long two weeks.