#maybe that should be a new series silly sunday lol

[steddieasitgoes]

Eddie survives the Upside Down but ends up losing his leg in the process due to blood loss and the bats going too deep. With the help of Dr. Owens and some highly expensive, expert doctors, Eddie is granted a prosthetic leg free of charge -- thank you guilty government.

Sure, Eddie can get around perfectly fine without it, but he does enjoy the prosthetic especially since he thinks it makes him even more metal. Plus, it's great for drama. He's been known to slam it down on the table during D&D sessions to get the Party's attention when they get too rowdy. And, don't even get him started on the party tricks he can do with it.

There is one disadvantage though.

He's constantly forgetting it behind.

Turns out Wayne's constant teasing over the years about Eddie forgetting his own head if it wasn't attached to his body was right.

Somedays, Eddie makes it all the way to school before he realizes he forgot to attach his leg that morning.

On other days, he catches the mistake when he runs back inside for something else he forgot. Usually his weed or D&D notebook, never his leg.

He even left it lying on Steve's bedroom floor for three whole days until Steve finally got tired of waiting for Eddie to realize it was missing and showed up at his house leg in hand.

"You found my leg," Eddie screeched, yanking it from Steve's hands before pulling him in for a hug. "Now I don't have to make missing posters for it."

"Did you think it just got up and walked away?" Steve asked, bemused.

"Well, it is a leg, Stevie. That's what it's supposed to do."

[cowboyshit]

Only for the Holidays (pt 3)

Ship: Adam “Hangman” Page and Ivy (OFC) Summary: Adam and Ivy cross paths at a mutual friend’s holiday party and hit it off, both admitting they’ve grown tired of constantly being asked about having a partner at the various holiday events they have to attend. They come to an agreement to pretend to date for the holidays to get their friends and family off their backs, but neither of them admit that they’ve had an attraction to each other from the beginning. Will these feelings come to a head? Or will the pair be able to stick to their original plan and only get through the holidays together? Rating: general/fluff Length: 5,484 words part THREE of THREE (part one, part two), the fic can also be read in it’s entirety on ao3 (here)

author’s note: and alas! the final installment of this little fake-dating series I wrote for viv’s @12daysofchristmas​ challenge! I hope you guys enjoy the finale to this sweet little story, it was nice to write something so warm and fluffy for the holidays even if I was writing it all by the seat of my pants and didn’t have anything planned LOL

Ivy’s phone chimed, indicating a new text message had come through. Pausing in wrapping the last of the gifts she had left, she leaned over and grabbed it to look at the screen. There was a new text message from Adam. A smile immediately turned the corners of her mouth and she quickly opened their text conversation.

How’s your voice doing?

She laughed and immediately tapped out a reply. Better. I actually have one today! 

She had lost her voice while screaming at the live Dynamite show his friends invited her to a couple days ago. She’d never been one of the kids who watched wrestling growing up and knew only vaguely what it was about, but she’d had an even better time than she expected. The show they’d put on was fast and full of stunts and surprises Ivy would have never expected. They’d also been absolutely right about it being fun to watch ringside, though she’d had to fight through nerves any time the camera men pointed those large cameras her way. She’d screamed so much by the time she woke up the next morning she’d all but lost her voice.

Watching Adam perform in the ring had been something else entirely. The things he was able to do astonished her. He had to explain what all the moves were called after the match as she excitedly babbled backstage, but he’d seemed like he was glowing when he had. Her favorite had been the “flippy thing he did in the middle” (the shooting star press) and the “flippy thing he did off the pole” (the moonsault off the ring post). She liked the way his blond curls fluffed out and floated, catching the white lights that lit the ring as he maintained control and soared through the air. The athleticism and strength he possessed was amazing. She remembered her delighted surprise when he caught his opponent mid-leap, carried him to the center of the ring, tossed him over and popped up in a smooth kip up that had her eyes gone wide. She’d seen his muscles when she caught herself admiring him, but she hadn’t realized just how strong he was.

Her phone chimed again and distracted her from daydreaming about watching him shirtless and sweaty, getting riled up in the ring. She felt suddenly warm and blushed, looking down at his message.

What are you up to tonight?

They’d been doing this a lot lately. Just texting idly throughout their days, even though her family party wasn’t until tomorrow night. It had started with her asking questions about what to wear to a wrestling show and him giving her details for where she’d need to go, but they always sort of fell into carrying the conversation beyond that. He was just… easy to talk to.

Easy on the eyes, too.

Ivy shook her head at herself and sent him a reply. Wrapping up the last of the gifts to take over tomorrow night. 

Oh shoot, was I supposed to get something for your mom?

Ivy couldn’t help but smile. You’re a brand new “boyfriend” she’s never met before, remember? She doesn’t even know about your existence, you don’t have to get her anything. Besides, the family does a big gift exchange cause there’s too many people to individually buy for, and you and I have a joint gift I already bought.

What did we get for the gift exchange? Another quick reply. The notifications were popping up that he read her message as soon as she sent it, which meant he had their conversation actively open.

Ivy opened her camera app and snapped a picture of the still-to-be-wrapped box set full of all the tools necessary to make delicious hot cocoa, as well as peppermint bark, a little bottle of peppermint schnapps and one of chocolate liqueur. She sent the picture to him and typed: A giftset to make spiked hot cocoa! 

What are the rules on getting your own gift in the gift exchange? That sounds good. Never spiked my cocoa with peppermint before.

Ivy’s fingers jumped quick to type her message: Really? I don’t do it often since I just like cocoa by itself, but it’s pretty tasty! I’ll have to make it for you some time. She clicked send before reading it back over, then looked at the message and felt her eyes go wide. She should make it for him sometime? When? When they were at her family’s big gettogether, pretending to date so her family wouldn’t make her feel bad for being single? Or when they supposedly “broke up” a few weeks later?

His reply didn’t come back as immediately as the others did. Worry twisted in her stomach.

That would be nice, I’d like that. His reply chimed back. He was just being polite, obviously. She sent a little smiling emoji in reply and closed their conversation, setting her phone aside as she decided to distract herself by finishing wrapping up gifts. After, she could pick what she’d be wearing tomorrow night to the party. Of course she’d been silly to think she could avoid catching some sort of feelings, even a passing infatuation for a cute, sweet, blond-haired cowboy. He clearly hadn’t (she remembered his playful promise that they wouldn’t fall for each other) and she wasn’t going to make him uncomfortable by pursuing something he clearly didn’t feel.

When her phone stayed dark and no further messages came through to carry on their conversation, Ivy knew she was right.

**********

He’d already been nervous the whole day leading up to when he was going to pick Ivy up at her place, but seeing her coming out of the house in her pretty red holiday dress made his mouth go dry. He was a step behind climbing out of the cab to go around and pop the door open for her like a gentleman ought to, too caught up with staring at her walk down the steps of her porch. His fingers curled around the handle as she waited by the passenger side of his truck, rocking a little in her heels. Her smile picked up as she thanked him for opening her door. Adam smiled, but still had to look away from her for a moment.

She was so damn pretty… but it wasn’t just physical. Something had changed for him that night she came out to see him wrestle. He’d felt different in the ring. More energized. He hadn’t been able to stop grinning as he watched her excitedly talk about everything she’d liked afterwards. He’d asked her question after question just to keep her talking. Adam made her tell him everything she liked and didn’t like about the entire night and had laughed as he explained what the different lingo meant. They’d ordered late night food to Daily’s Place and stayed up talking with each other and sometimes with the other wrestlers who were still lingering about.

The next morning he woke up and he missed her. None of this was fake, not any more. Not for him, anyways. Her promise to make him spiked hot cocoa sometime had sat on his mind all night, and it popped up again as he climbed back into the cab and pulled away from the curb. Was it a joke he wasn’t supposed to look too far into? Was she just being nice? Or was that her way of telling him she thought they should keep seeing one another?

This night, her family’s party, was meant to be the last time they were technically together. Every minute that ticked by was one more they wouldn’t have… unless she liked him the way he liked her. Adam just needed to find the right time to ask her. Maybe he’d wait until after the party, he thought, glancing over at her and smiling as she checked her lipstick in the visor mirror. Yeah, that sounded fair. They’d have a good time tonight and in a week or so, he’d reach out and see how she was and find some way to bring it up, even if every time he thought about how much he liked her he got butterflies in his stomach and felt like his tongue swelled up.

She gave him the last of the directions and he slowed his truck as they pulled up to a country home set on at least a good acre of land. The large two-story home was glowing warm out its many windows and was strung up in pretty, twinkling lights. When he parked, he noticed just how many cars were around them.

“Your family really doesn’t mess around, huh?” She’d warned him that her family went all out for the holidays, all the generations rotating households for hosting each year. This year just so happened to be the year her parents were hosting.

“They really don’t,” she said with a laugh as they walked side-by-side up the walkway leading to the porch. Automatic, Adam’s hand reached and curled around hers. She slid her eyes toward him and then smiled and looked at all the cars they were passing, starting to mutter to herself who all had already showed up.

“These are all your relatives?” Adam wasn’t unfamiliar with big family gatherings - his entire upbringing had been Sunday lunches at his grandma’s with all the family in attendance - but he hadn’t anticipated this many people.

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Grandma and Grandpa had eleven kids and each of those kids has gotten married and has kids and every one of their kids except for one have had their own kids. Hell, there’s even a new great-grandbaby this year.”

“Wow,” Adam laughed and shook his head, walking up the porch steps and feeling his nerves rise inside. 

“The only one who hasn’t had grandkids?” She asked as they stopped in front of the door, her brow arching. “My mom. Because I haven’t had any, and neither has my brother. So… just be ready in case she decides the first time meeting you is the right moment to start slipping baby name ideas to you.”

Adam chuckled. “Thank you for the warning.”

“Alright, brace yourself.” She smiled and turned the knob to open the large wood door with its pretty glass-front window design. 

Immediately there was warmth and laughter and underneath the mix of chatter was the soft sounds of low-volume classic Christmas music. String lights hung around the home offered lovely soft yellow lighting, with red ribbons and garland all around. It was beautiful enough to be seen on television, or so Adam thought. As he looked around the living area he tried to picture it without the holiday decorations, the home Ivy grew up in. What kind of kid had she been? Was she bold and adventurous or careful and shy? He looked over at her profile and realized their hands were still clasped. 

The nearest people greeted Ivy as she passed and she only took her hand from his to give hugs, catching up with quick questions of how everyone was doing and introducing Adam as they went. By the time he met the sixth or seventh person he realized he was already getting names mixed up. Adam cursed himself and glanced back from where they’d came, squinting as he looked at the faces he’d seen and trying to remember what had been said when they’d been introduced to him not even a minute ago.

“There you are sweetheart! Come here!” A jovial looking woman, short with round hips and waves of gold-blond hair came toward Ivy with open arms. She grabbed her up in a hug and squeezed her tight, even though Ivy groaned.

“Mom! You act like you haven’t seen me in years!” She complained.

“Oh like your mom can’t shower you in love every time you see her.” Her mother shook her head as she pulled away, only then seeming to notice Adam. Her eyes went wide. “Who’s this?” She looked back at Ivy for an explanation.

“My name’s Adam, ma’am.” Adam knew when and how to lay on the charm and he’d promised Ivy he’d be the perfect so-called boyfriend to keep her mother off her back. He extended a hand for a polite shake. 

“Mom, this is my…” Ivy and Adam’s eyes met. Her expression softened. “My boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Her mom echoed, still holding on to Adam’s hand as she looked from her daughter back to him. “Well! Has he met everyone yet? Did you get him something to drink? What do you want sweetheart? We have eggnog, homemade!” And, still holding on to his hand, Ivy’s mom started to drag him away, ignoring Ivy’s protests that she was introducing him slowly to the family and they’d make their way to the kitchen eventually.

Ivy hadn’t been kidding when she said her family - and her mother - could be a little overwhelming. Although rather than leaving him anxious and strung tight, it was that good kind of overwhelming that instead had him dizzy with warmth and love. Adam was dragged around the house, introduced to everyone he hadn’t met yet (and even those he had) as Ivy followed and kept trying to get her mother to relinquish her hold on him in between apologizing for her mother’s behavior. Truthfully, Adam was struggling to hold back a smile. She was cute, concerned and fussing over him like that, putting those big, pleading eyes on his as she begged him to just hold out a little bit longer.

Finally their trip rounded them back in a circle where her mother was beckoned from the kitchen to help set up more snack trays. Adam and Ivy were left alone (relatively, of course, he noticed there were people grouped throughout the living area) and as they met one another’s eyes he widened his and exhaled an exhausted breath.

“Wow.”

“I know!” Her brows dipped inward, creating little wrinkle lines on her forehead. She reached out and put a hand on his forearm and he felt the muscle tense, electricity up his skin from her touch. “I’m so sorry Adam. I told you she’s relentless and was going to want everyone to meet my boyfriend.”

“If I’m bein’ honest, I felt like a well-bred stud being marched around and shown off.”

“Oh my god!” Ivy snickered and then groaned. Her hand slipped off his arm and he wished he could reach out and put a hand on her hip just to keep them touching. “It was exactly like that. Once she knew you were on t.v. it was all over.” She shook her head, sighing. “I’m sorry, your friends weren’t nearly as much as my mom has been. And this is only the first half hour of the night.”

Adam laughed and as cute as she was worried over him, he decided he’d calm those fears of hers. He started to lift his hand, wanting to push his palm against her cheek and gently hold her face, then remembered himself and let it drop to his side. He cleared his throat and shrugged.

“Nah, I honestly don’t mind it at all. It’s done wonders for my confidence.” His grin stretched playfully into his bearded cheeks.

“You’re a saint,” Ivy laughed and he was happy to see she was happy.

“What about you?” He asked, “I know we’ve only been here a little bit but is it helping?” He hoped it was.

“It is!” She said without hesitation. “That whole time my mom was dragging you around to show you off would have been spent with her reliving my exes to me, asking me where they’re at now, or telling me about women she knows who have single sons my age, or this cute young man my age she met at the grocery store and struck up a conversation with and got his number for me.”

Adam blew another breath out of his mouth. “I’m glad I can help.” But a frown worked its way across his brow. Ivy was a smart, successful, capable woman all on her own. It wasn’t fair that her mother only considered her relationship something to discuss and didn’t pay attention to everything else her daughter was. “You okay?” She asked, and he realized she’d been watching him and seen his change in expression.

“Oh, sorry. Yeah.” But she still peered at him and he knew this wasn’t the place to broach a serious topic like that. “When are you going to tell her about the promotion?”

“Honestly I was so busy trying to keep her from smothering you I completely forgot.” She laughed. “I guess I’ll tell her after the gifts are over. Anyways, come on-” she grabbed his hand, tingles again “-let’s go load up our plates with finger foods. It’s the best part of the whole night.”

Adam grinned, following after her as she held his hand, twining his fingers around hers and thinking about how whole he felt.

*********

The entire evening was better than Ivy could have anticipated. She knew it was mostly due to having Adam as her near-constant company, and feeling warmly closer to him than they probably had any right to be. During the gift exchange they’d claimed a spot on one of the couches and like it was natural, Ivy had leaned into him, Adam had lifted his arm and wrapped it snug around her shoulders. They’d shared a little smile then both looked away, staying cuddled up throughout the entirety of the exchange.

It had come to an end as the last gift was opened and she still didn’t move to get up from leaning on Adam’s soft yet somehow firm body. He didn’t try to lift his arm to separate them, either. Their supposedly shared gift sat at their feet in front of the couch, a large fluffy blanket that she’d had to have the moment she felt it and a Starbucks gift card. Absolutely perfect.

Conversation flowed happily around the room. Ivy and Adam were listening as her father retold his favorite Christmas story - the night Ivy was six and they’d had to come to a sudden stop on snowy roads, after the car righted itself there was a little gathering of stags that’d run out of the woods. Ivy had started to cry, worried that they were Santa’s reindeer and had gotten lost, meaning Santa wouldn’t be able to deliver presents that evening.

“I had to sit there and explain all about the differences between reindeer and white-tails and promise her the whole way home that Santa was going to be able to come that night.” Her father was grinning near ear-to-ear as he chuckled.

Ivy rolled her eyes, but smiled. She was tired of hearing the story every year but it was clearly endearing to her father. Adam, hearing it for the first time, had seemed to enjoy listening to it too.

“She was so cute kicking up a fuss like that.” Her father said warmly.

“I’ll bet she was.” Adam said. Ivy glanced quickly up at him only to see his eyes were locked on hers. Her stomach felt as if it erupted in a wild fluttering of butterflies and she swallowed, feeling a little hot in her cheeks. This was more… wasn’t it? They were being more coupley, weren’t they? Even more than they’d been at his company holiday party. Was their being together, their touching and holding hands becoming more natural to him, too? Or was she going crazy, projecting and seeing the things she wanted to see to justify how she felt about him now?

The questions would drive her insane, she needed to change the topic.

Ivy cleared her throat and looked back at her parents. “I’m getting a promotion at work.”

“Are you?” Her mother gasped.

“That’s wonderful sweetheart,” her father praised with a smile. “When did you find out?”

“A few weeks ago,” Ivy smiled, suddenly feeling almost shy with Adam’s proud gaze on her, his hand gently rubbing up and down her arm. The skimming of his fingertips on her skin was almost distracting.

“Why did you wait so long to tell us?!” Her mother admonished. “Sweetheart, that’s amazing! You’ve been working so hard, it’s about time they recognized it.”

“Thank you mom,” Ivy laughed.

“How’s the pay increase?” Her dad asked.

Ivy shook her head. “It’s actually pretty impressive if I’m being honest.” She’d already started to daydream about all the things in her life she was going to invest in and upgrade. “I’ve been working my ass off to get this promotion.”

“Well!” Her mother was beaming and her eyes slid to Adam and back to Ivy, her smile getting a mischievous little twist. Oh no, thought Ivy. “With more money you’d be able to support a child.” She winked as though they shared an inside secret, then gave that same wink to Adam. “I happen to think I’d make the perfect grandmother.”

Ivy’s heart sank, even with Adam at her side, she was still incomplete. She was sure her mother didn’t mean it, but it still stung. Before she could say something wrong and upset her mother or change the subject entirely, Adam was speaking up.

“With all due respect, ma’am, Ivy and I just started dating; we’re a little far off from seeing how compatible we are or if children are even something either of us want.”

“Oh, of course,” her mother looked taken aback. Ivy gaped at Adam and wasn’t sure if she should pinch him or kiss him for speaking up to her mother.

Adam looked at her, seemed to hesitate, then started talking again. “I know you’re proud of your daughter,” he glanced back toward her parents, who were now watching him with slightly guarded expressions, “but when you jump straight to talking about her lack of children or who she’s dating, it makes it seem like that’s all you care about. I know it’s not my place to say, but I also know it bothers her, and she shouldn’t have to feel like she’s anything less than the amazing woman I’ve come to see she is.”

The small group was quiet. Ivy didn’t know what to say or do. Adam had talked calmly, never raising his voice, but he’d effectively checked her mother’s habit to overlook Ivy’s accomplishments. It was a bold move for a real boyfriend, even bolder for a fake one. Or, hell, maybe he figured he wouldn’t be seeing her parents again and was free to stick up for her even under their own house.

The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to grab his face and kiss him. No one had ever stood up for her like that. Still, Ivy worried over her mother’s reaction and looked back at her.

“Do I really do it that often?”

“Mom,” Ivy sighed and glanced down at her hands. She made herself look back up. “Yeah. You do. It’s why I waited so long to tell you about the promotion. I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but it feels like it is. It makes me feel like…” Their voices were low enough the conversation was truly just among the four of them, but Ivy still paused to make sure no family members were listening in that she didn’t want to overhear. “Mom, you just make me feel like I’m not doing enough if I’m not seeing someone or giving you a grandchild.” Emboldened by the honesty coming out, she looked over at Adam and shook her head, realizing how ridiculous the whole thing had been to start with. “I mean, Adam and I aren’t even-”

“Aren’t even that serious yet.” He jumped in, talking over her. Ivy tilted her head, eyes on his. Why didn’t he want her to tell her parents that they weren’t actually dating?

“I’m sorry, baby,” her mother said, and when Ivy looked back saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. “I didn’t realize I’d been so awful about it to you.”

“Mom, no,” Ivy shook her head, shoulders dropping. “Don’t cry. I should have told you how much it bothered me instead of just grinning and bearing it.”

Getting up from the couch, Ivy’s mother stood up too. Immediately Ivy wrapped her arms around her mother and cuddled tight into her as her mother held her, too. “I’m sorry sweetie,” she whispered again in Ivy’s ear, squeezing her a little tighter for a moment before they let go. 

“I really am proud of you, you know that? My little Ivy put herself through college, got her dream job, is living independently, and achieving all her dreams. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am of you! I brag about you all the time. I just, well, I’m your mom. I worry about you being all alone. And yes, maybe I am a bit baby crazy and I’ve started pushing that off on you.” She shook her head. “You can have no kids, have ten kids, marry once, marry never, I don’t care sweetie. I’m always going to be proud of you.”

“Thank you, mom.” Ivy said, now feeling her own tears rising. She reached to wipe at her eyes, careful of her make-up.

“Hey! No crying on Christmas!” A cousin shouted, looking over and seeing her and her mother having their close, emotional talk. Ivy shook her head as laughter rippled around the room.

“It’s not Christmas, it’s December 19th!” Her mother scolded back. “We can cry all we want to.”

“I think I’m good on the crying,” Ivy laughed and looked back at her mom, softening. “Thank you, mom.”

“You don’t have to thank me for coming to my senses.”

“Well, I think it was more like you were forced to come to your senses.” Her father spoke up and slapped his thighs as he lifted off the couch to stand up with them. Adam stood up as well. 

Rubbing his hand at the back of his neck, Adam spoke up. “I’m sorry, I know that wasn’t polite of me-”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Her mother hushed him almost immediately. “I was a little shocked at first, but clearly this was something we needed to talk about.” “I think I would have preferred a less crowded house,” Ivy admitted, looking around. Most of the family was still deep in their own conversations, but she had to have imagined some of them had overheard.

“Any man who stands up for my little girl, to her own mother no less, the first time he’s meeting the family… well, that’s a man I definitely approve of for my daughter.” Ivy’s father chuckled and patted Adam on the back. “I like this one, sweetheart. He’s a good one.”

Ivy smiled as their eyes met. “Yeah, he is.”

The party carried on for a couple more hours of happy chatter until one by one the families started to slowly trickle out. Ivy and Adam were the last to leave, helping tidy up around the house despite her mother’s assurance they shouldn’t bother themselves by cleaning. It really wasn’t a bother. Ivy thought of it as a sort of sweet domesticity, picking up plates and putting leftover food away, cleaning up trash and righting the house again side-by-side with Adam. She kept sneaking glances over at him as he smiled back at her; a few times they’d reached for the same things and brushed their hands against each other. Their touches continued to linger a little longer and a little longer each time, her cheeks warm as their eyes held contact. By the end her gaze kept finding its way to his lips; she just couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t stop wondering what’d be like to kiss him.

Adam sucked in a breath as they stepped back, having finished putting the last of the food up. “I guess we should get on home?” He asked.

It was rather late, though Ivy felt hesitation she knew was due to this being their possible last moments together. If she said yes, they would walk out of the door, get in his truck, he would drive her home and drop her off and they supposedly would never see one another again. Or, well, they’d maybe see one another, but nothing like this. Nothing like tonight had been. Nothing like the past few weeks had been.

“Yeah,” she said, trying not to let any regret seep into her tone. “We probably should.”

They went to say their goodbyes to her parents, gathering their gift and the leftovers her mother pushed off on her before they finally stepped out of the house. Ivy exhaled into the cool late-night winter air as Adam closed the front door and they stood on the porch.

“Thank you,” she said, not yet descending the steps to go to his truck.

“For?” He frowned, tilting his head as he looked down at her.

“For... standing up for me? For being...you? I don’t know. I just had such a good time tonight I feel like I need to thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, darlin’.” He smiled. “I had just as good a time tonight as you, promise. Although, I do still feel like I should apologize. That wasn’t my place to talk to your mom like that.”

“Adam, it’s okay. I was a little taken aback but, honestly like my mom said, that conversation needed to happen.”

“I’m glad you’re not mad at me,” he said, his voice a little hushed. They were still lingering on the porch. Ivy felt like she could stand there all night in spite of the chill, but knew they shouldn’t. She took one last longing glance at his lips and smiled. “I doubt I could ever really be mad at you.” 

Maybe little things, tiny annoyances on nerve-frazzled days or the common day-to-day things you argue and work through and overcome to come back stronger than ever. Nothing that would ever make her really resent him, though. She could tell herself until she was blue in the face they’d only been talking a month and she probably didn’t know him as well as she thought she did, but something was telling her everything with Adam would just make sense.

She honestly never felt like this with anyone before. How could she feel so connected to him when they were still essentially strangers? When they hadn’t even really been dating to begin with?

“Come on,” she turned away, the gift bag and tote bag of leftover goodies in tow. “We should probably get off my parent’s porch.”

“Wait,” he said as she turned to walk away, “we almost forgot...”

“Forgot what?” Ivy looked back at him and saw he’d taken a step to close their distance. She had to tilt her head to look up into his eyes where she saw he was holding a little piece of garland.

“It’s tradition to kiss under mistletoe.” He said.

“Adam…” It was hard to keep herself from giggling. The grin spread and pushed up into her cheeks. “That’s not mistletoe, that’s a piece of fake pine-needle garland I think you stole from my mom’s house.”

“Tomato, tom-ah-to. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to do this...” He leaned down, brushing his lips softly against hers.

Immediately she warmed to his touch, melting against the contact. He took the invitation to sink deeper into their kiss. His hand dropped and found its place on her hip, pulling her tighter against him. The garland had been dropped to the ground, happily forgotten as he ran his tongue between the split of her lips and then sank inside her mouth as she opened with invitation.

The bags fell with a rustle and a thump by her feet and her arms came up quickly around his shoulders, wrapping tightly and pulling him down on her. Their heads moved, matching the shape of their lips better. His fingers squeezed into her hips, the passion mounting further and further the longer their lips touched and tongues stroked.

They broke apart, chests rising and falling quick as they exhaled large, foggy white breaths in the small space between them. All Ivy could taste was him. She felt deliriously dizzy.

“I have been wanting to do that for a long damn time,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I broke our rule,” she confessed. They were still holding each other, going nowhere but lost in one another’s eyes.

“Our rule?”

“We weren’t supposed to fall for each other, remember? I’m afraid I might be falling, cowboy.”

A warm smile melted across his face.

“I think I’ve already beat you there.” He bent and, just before his lips touched hers, exhaled his promise across her mouth, “I’ll be ready to catch you, darlin’.”

[justanotherloveaffair]

All That You Can’t Leave Behind [Part 4/14]

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, T’Challa x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut (NSFW)

Word Count: 2,451

Summary: Reader and T’Challa meet to talk business, but the evening seems more like a date…

Author’s Note: These chapters are getting longer and longer, lol.

Part 1   Part 2    Part 3

Your name: Submit (what is this?) 

When you find out a King is going to pay you a visit, certain imagery comes to mind. Certain expectations. Royal clothing. Servants, maybe. Surely a trailing crowd of flashing cameras.

What showed up at your door was a normal looking, albeit abnormally attractive, casually dressed man wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and grey slacks. You stood for a moment in the doorway looking at each other while you tried to hide your appreciation of his upper body, as well as your total surprise at him dressed so differently than how you’d seen him in person and in every photo you’d saved.

“I see you put on some clothes for me,” T’Challa said with a wide, brazen smile and your eyebrows lifted in surprise.

You reached out and smacked his arm. “Hey,” you squeaked, admonishing both him and yourself for letting him catch you off guard. You were trying to queue up a snappy response but he had knocked you off your game in the first ten seconds. “I thought we agreed to forget about that.” You replied with as much mock disapproval as you could muster while you reached down to grab your purse.

When you turned back to the door, T’Challa looked at you as if he were picturing you naked that very second and replied smoothly, “I don’t recall such an agreement. And there are some things a man doesn’t forget.” Not missing a beat, he held out his arm. “Shall we?”

*

The destination was a ramen bar in mid-town. When he mentioned it as you exited the building together, you knew Steve had divulged to him your favourite place, because there were too many damn ramen bars on even one block for it to have been a coincidence.

The journey was loud, busy, rainy, wet and jammed with early-season tourists out on a Friday night. Your umbrellas dodged and weaved around each other’s and he impressively kept pace as you negotiated the space around people exiting subways, crowds milling about street performers, tourists and NYC-natives alike staring at phones while they walked. The typical shit one learns to deal with in Manhattan.

Twenty minutes later, you acknowledged with a nod and a smile the presence of a busker who often played his saxophone just outside of Totto Ramen and you continued to the front door. Once inside, you scanned for an empty table and hurriedly pulled your companion over to the first one you saw. This was NYC and you had to be quick, especially in the theatre district on a Friday.

As you settled in, tucking your wet umbrellas away, T’Challa seemed taken in by nearly everything around him. It was a look you were used to seeing when your family members came to visit – charmed, and a little overwhelmed.

“I imagine this is very different to Wakanda,” you said while offering him a plastic menu, filled with pictures of slightly different looking bowls of noodles. His eyes glazed over slightly at the number of choices.

“Very much, and I am relying on you to help me, entle.”

A moment later a young woman came by for your order and you confidently took the reins to order a bowl of shoyu ramen for him, your usual bowl of tsukemen, and, what the hell, two Sapporos. The beers came first, and the dark, steaming bowls of ramen not long after.

You learn a lot about a person when you eat ramen together, and not just how good they are with chopsticks (T’Challa was terrible). You learned he wasn’t afraid of trying new things. He ate the pork, the bamboo shoots, the egg. He eagerly tried the tsukemen when you offered. You learned he could laugh at his awkward chopstick holding. He treated the waitress with respect, and to you, he acted like a man on his first date, sweet and attentive to everything you said. You hadn’t talked about anything related to the reason Steve gave you and you were beginning to think it had been entirely made up. Was this…. a date?

When the check came, you quickly grabbed it, folding some bills you’d pre-pulled from your wallet and handed it back to the waitress before there was any chance for protest. You shot a defiant smile at T’Challa who pursed his lips at you in pretend anger and you gave up your seats for the long line of people waiting.

He bent down to say a “thank you” into your ear so he could be heard over the noisy diners. You felt his hand ever so gently guiding you forward, at the small of your back. It was that familiar, ownership-showing kind of boyfriend touch that even Steve didn’t use when you went out and damn, you liked it, a lot. It gave you that light feeling of butterflies, and the adrenaline-rush thought that anything could happen.

As you headed outside, the night seemed full of possibilities.

*

You followed his lead. It was thankfully less crowded now, and you walked slower and without your umbrellas. You felt the absence of his hand, missing his fingertips that were no longer grazing your back. For a full block you dared yourself to reach out and touch him, pull his hand to yours. But you didn’t.

You noticed you were getting somewhat closer to your area of town. You had been walking in companionable silence until he said, sighing, “I suppose we should talk about the business Steve told you about.”

A part of you deflated a little that this wasn’t an elaborate date Steve had set you up on, but a means to an end, for the good of Wakanda.  You smiled to yourself. “I suppose we should.”

“How about we talk in here?” He stopped at the entrance of an inviting-looking, dimly lit wine bar with red painted windows. You weren’t about to say no to sharing this intimate space with him, so you nodded and followed him inside.

It was his turn to surprise you as you looked over the wine list, seated at a tiny high-table near the street-facing window. He obviously knew his way around the menu, especially the French reds and when you questioned him, he said “there are some things you need to know when you’re a King, and wine is one of them.” You realized it had been nearly a whole night you’d been out with him and this was one of the first times his official title had come up. He’d been, and continued to be, so disarmingly down to earth.

You let him order for you this time, and as the waitress wrote down two orders of cabernet franc he winked at you and promised, “It’s full-bodied, you’ll like it.”

Turns out the wine, and his confidence that you would enjoy it, were both hitting their target with perfect precision.

Finally, after you got a few sips in, T’Challa began “the pitch.” What followed were a lot of details and unnecessary backstory that you’d already forgotten as he marched on through a series of names and words you barely understood like “Vibranium” and “Dora Milaje.” You kept nodding and smiling and a few full minutes after your mind went numb he finally slowed down and noticed your confusion.

“I am sorry, let me simplify. We need your help to find the source of some faulty programming with the utmost discretion. Can you help?”

The programmer in you said there was no problem you couldn’t solve. The nervous girl who was slightly starting to fall for someone she just met realized this was going to be big trouble.

*

You gathered from the rest of the conversation much of the details had already been planned based on you saying yes. (That Steve. He knew you too well.) Officially this trip of yours was unofficial official business. You would be looking for a needle in a haystack of code, so to speak, and not their own code, which would be unreadable to you, but outside, non-Wakandan intelligence software. T’Challa promised people who knew more about it than him would give you your briefing.

What you had to decide, by the time you reached the bottom of that glass of wine, was how soon you could come.

You exhaled while mentally running through your schedule for the next two weeks to make the snap decision that he needed. “I need… a day? Is that okay?”

The furrow in his brow disappeared as a look of relief washed over him. “Yes. I will make the arrangements for Sunday.” Your hand was then enveloped by his fingers, gently slipping beneath yours while his thumb rested, warm and heavy, on your wrist. “I know this is a lot to ask, and I am grateful, Y/N.”

His silky touch made your mouth go dry and a familiar warm thudding began in your body. This, combined with two glasses of wine made you crave the cool air outside. You were actually grateful when the bill came.

The wine bar wasn’t far from your home. As you started walking in the quiet evening air, he once again took hold of your fingers, to pull your small hand into his bigger grasp. Considering how we’d met, you were taken aback by how intimate and exciting this tiny act was.

When you felt calm enough to speak, you casually asked his plans for the next day and you learned there was a Wakandan Embassy right here in New York, where he planned to do some work before Sunday. When you asked how long the flight was to Wakanda, so you could prepare for the trip he smiled as if you’d made a joke and you felt silly and stupid without knowing why.

“Only pack what you can’t do without. You will be well taken care in Wakanda, entle.”

You had somehow gotten right to your door when he said that final word. He turned to face you, your hand still in his and you were dying to know how this night would end.

“Thank you for this evening. You were – are, wonderful company and I look forward to much more of it.” You soaked up his words, your eyes riveted to his full lips that were so close and inviting.

You felt your whole body deflate when he let go of your hand and said with a note of finality, “I wish you a good night.”

A half second after he started to withdraw from the porch step you picked up his hand, pulled him towards you and his arms opened instinctively for you to step into them. Your lips met with a crash, spurred by your hunger that he almost seemed surprised by. You hummed when his mouth began to move with yours. Your hand dropped his and cupped the back of his head. The kiss deepened with his tongue lightly teasing yours, bringing another groan to your lips. You felt yourself enveloped completely in his arms. This being your second kiss, it struck you again how passionate he was and how fully he gave himself in the moment. You wanted this to continue and pulled him against you as your hand went into your bag for your keys.

He broke away from you then, breathing heavily. “Y/N, I….” His hand closed into a fist and he pulled your hand away from him. “I can’t stay, I’m sorry.” He pressed his forehead to yours and looked at you apologetically. “Please don’t misunderstand. I promise, there will be another time.”

He was so earnest that you couldn’t help but smile and feel a little guilty. This wasn’t even a date, after all and you were already trying to drag him into your house.

“No apology needed T’Challa.”

He kissed you again, sweetly pressing your lips together before saying goodnight.

Your heart felt heavy as you took the elevator up alone. When you got inside, there were texts from Steve waiting for you and in your aroused and frustrated state you were grateful when he offered to come over.

Twenty minutes later when his imposing figure stood in your door frame, he looked like he knew exactly what had happened and said with a knowing smile, “He stiff you at the door?” You nodded and let out a laugh as Steve hoisted you up, your legs locking around his narrow waist, and he walked back towards your bedroom. You were thankful for your open and easy friendship with Steve where you held nothing back from each other. No boundaries, no questions, no games.

Steve dropped you down on your bed and peeled off his shirt while you hurried out of your clothes. As he laid his naked body down over you his fingers went straight to your core where they slipped easily up and down your folds. “Ooh, he got you going, huh?” His eyes glittered in the dark and yours rolled backwards while you groaned, “You have no fucking idea.”

Steve laughed and muttered, “that teasing bastard,” while his finger slipped in to your instantly responding body. He found no need to prepare you further and you readied yourself, opening your legs for him to settle between. His cock found little resistance and you pulled him down into you, moaning your approval while he filled you. You sank your hands into his long blonde hair and he bent to suck and kiss your neck, moving his hips at just the right angle to hit you deeply at the end of each thrust. He lifted himself up on straightened arms to concentrate his power in his bucking hips that began slapping against yours harder and harder. “Just… like… that…” you soon started to cry. Your fingers dug into his wrists, the nails biting down into his skin hard in response to an onslaught of thrusts. “Fuuuu-cckkkk” you cried, your voice competing with the sound of the headboard repeatedly smacking the wall. Steve began to mutter encouragements for you to come, and not long after that you stilled completely, entirely, selfishly focused on your orgasm and making it last as long as possible. Soon after his cries joined yours, his rapid movements slowed to languid, exhausted thrusts as the final sparks of pleasure dissipated from your sweating bodies.

You half-crawled over him after he fell onto his back and one arm came around to pull you close under his chin. “Grateful for you, Steve.” You whispered tiredly.

A soft chuckle fell from his lips, and he turned to kiss your temple. “Love you too, Y/N.”