#you’re our ex captain for a reason

[seedlessmuffins]

yeah,,,,, no,,,,,,

[leahwllmsn]

the reason

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 6.1k

When you showed up to your first training session of the season, you weren’t expecting to see your ex-something standing in the middle of the locker room.

; some angst, happy ending though, just a bunch of miscommunication 

“Y/N! You’re here, perfect,” Jonas gave you a huge smile as he directed you towards the woman you hadn’t seen in months. “Meet our new signing!”

You swore you’d never seen Jonas smile that big during your time at Arsenal, which was understandable if he managed to sign Alexia Putellas to this damn club.

You looked at her outstretched hand, acting as if this was the first time you two met—acting as if she didn’t break your heart just a few months ago. 

At once, the memories came rushing in and you looked up to meet her eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart started to pick up its pace. For a second you were shocked at how familiar it was, to have her staring at you like you were interesting to her, but you quickly shook it off. You knew it was all a lie, a façade. Alexia was good at making people think they matter to her when she couldn't care less about anybody but herself. 

You ignored her and you ignored Jonas’ yelp of surprise when you didn’t kiss the ground Alexia walked on. You went straight to your cubby and did your usual routine.

Training gear checked.

Boots checked.

Hair tie checked.

Alexia standing next to you—

“What?” you hadn’t meant to sound harsh, or maybe you did. You didn’t really care.

Out of all the things you expected to come out of her mouth, an apology for breaking your heart, or a simple ‘how are you’ or whatever, you hadn't expected her to say, “I missed you.”

You were indifferent to her being here before (that was what you convinced yourself anyway), but now you were livid. 

“Seriously?” your voice apparently was louder than you intended because you could feel a couple of eyes on you.

“Y/N…” maybe it was hearing her say your name again after all this time. Maybe it was the way she said your name with a hint of longing when she had no right to do so after what she did to you. Maybe it was the way she was standing there within your reach after you thought that you were never going to see her again.

You think it was all of it combined that made the ache in your heart, which you’ve managed to seal tight all this time, to seep through the seams and inject itself back into your veins.

Taking a deep breath, you will yourself to stare into her eyes. “Go fuck yourself, Alexia.”

You heard everyone inhale a sharp breath all at once as you exited the room. You definitely were getting an earful from Jonas but you didn’t care.

Alexia could really go fuck herself for all you care.

—

It was Leah that Jonas assigned to talk to you.

You hated it because aside from the fact that she was your captain in the Lionesses, she also had known you since you were barely in diapers, seeing as your mothers were best friends. 

You were hiding in your usual spot, the old storage room that no one used anymore. 

“Want to talk about why you were so rude to one of the best footballers on this planet?”

You scoffed. Great. Even your best friend was kissing Alexia’s ass. “She’s overrated.”

Leah sat down on the floor next to you, grabbing the back of your shirt when you went to stand up. “You’re not going anywhere, mate.”

“You can't make me talk,” you scowled at her. “I just hate her. Don’t really care if I was rude to Jonas’ newest favourite.”

Leah laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Chill out will you! You’re acting so tense.”

“I’m not tense! It’s just been a shitty morning, with her being here and all.”

“I feel like there’s something I’m missing,” Leah looked at you questioningly. “You’re jealous of her or something?

You barked out a laugh at that. That was good. “Hell no. Why would I be jealous of her? Like I said, she’s overrated.”

“Then?”

“Then nothing,” you rolled your eyes. God, why was it so hard to be moody about your ex in peace?

“If it’s nothing then you wouldn't mind going back there and being nice to her, yeah?”

“No.” 

There was no way in hell you would be nice to Alexia. No. fucking. way.

“Y/N. Jonas is counting on me to talk some sense into you, he's scared Alexia is going to resign on the first day here if her teammate is rude to her.”

That sounded like a great idea, you thought. Just as you smiled at Leah, she was frowning at you.

“Y/N. Be nice. Please. For me?”

You always did have a soft spot for Leah.

“Fine.”

—

Everyone was already at the field when you returned with Leah.

You weren't sure who witnessed your little interaction with Alexia earlier so you kept to yourself for a bit, not wanting anyone to ask anymore questions.

You got through the training smoothly and it was over before you knew it. You kept on avoiding Alexia’s gazes, trying your best to pretend that she wasn't there at all. In your mind, Alexia was still in Barcelona, right where she should be.

Not in London Colney here with you. Definitely not.

“Hola.”

Damn it.

You were putting your stuff into your duffle bag aggressively, lifting your head just for a second to glare at her. 

Alexia seemed unperturbed at your cold gaze, sitting down on the cubby next to yours so she could look up at you and catch your eyes.

You were always a sucker for her stupid puppy dog eyes.

But you were stronger now. You were.

“Y/N,” she tried again, her voice a whisper. “Can we talk? ”

You replied with a simple “No.”

“We are going to be teammates, we should at least be civil to one another, no?”

“No,” you rolled your eyes, who did she think she was? “I’ll pretend you don't exist and you can do the same.”

Alexia scoffed at you. “Why are you being so difficult?”

That got your attention. “Me?” you raise your voice and Leah suddenly stepped in between you two, probably fearing that things might escalate.

“Hey,” Leah gave you a pointed look. “People are watching.”

You glanced back and people were watching, most had a curious look on their faces. No one knew you and Alexia knew each other, but everyone knew you and they knew you were anything but hostile. So this attitude might be slightly disconcerting for them.

You took a deep breath and willed yourself to calm down. You need time to process the events that happened today.

“I’m just gonna go,” you told Leah. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Not sparing Alexia another glance, you grabbed your bag and took off.

Tomorrow. You’ll face her again tomorrow and maybe you can try to be civil with her. Only for the sake of your teammates.

—

“You know… if you keep on staring at me like that, one might think you’re in love with me.”

You thought you were being discreet with your gazes towards the brunette who was sitting a few seats apart from you, acting as if you were staring at the ocean instead.

But apparently that wasn’t the case and as soon as you heard those words come out of her mouth, you choked on your ice tea and patted your chest repeatedly to stop the coughing fit. 

The brunette beside you laughed and you halted your movements to stare again because wow, the pictures really didn’t do Alexia Putellas justice.

She turned towards you and held out a hand for you to shake. “I’m Alexia.”

You accepted her hand with a bashful smile. “I know.”

She raises her eyebrows at you.

You could feel the blush rising to your cheeks, trying to play it cool with a simple shrug of your shoulders. “Who doesn't know Alexia Putellas at this point? It would be weird if I didn’t.” you paused. “And I wasn’t staring at you, by the way.”

“Oh, you weren’t?” Alexia smirked. She slid into the empty seat between you and you could feel your heartbeat racing once you caught a whiff of Alexia’s perfume. A strong flowering scent. Huh. You've never thought about what Alexia Putellas would smell like, but it probably wasn’t this. It somehow made you even more attracted to her.

You nodded, playing with the straw of your drink. “I totally wasn’t.”

“Then what were you staring at?” 

“The… sea.”

Alexia laughed once more and you couldn’t help but laugh with her. Her laugh was infectious.

“Okay, sure,” Alexia took a sip of her drink. “Just so you know though, I wouldn’t mind if you were staring at me.”

You hummed, pretending to be in thought. “I’d rather not.”

“No?” Alexia raised her eyebrows. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “Then you’d think I’m into you, or something.”

“Well aren’t you?”

You clicked your tongue. Her ego was through the roof. You get it though, if you looked like that, you’d think everyone was into you too. “No.”

“Your stare suggests otherwise.” Alexia smiled smugly.

You stepped down from your stool and put your hand out. “Why don’t you take a stroll around the beach with me?”

When Alexia was still staring at your outstretched hand, you motioned for her to take it. Alexia complied and let you drag her away to the shore. 

“It was getting kinda boring, wasn't it? Just sitting by yourself at the bar,” you explained, swaying your hands back and forth as you walked along the coast. “I don't know if you know me, but I play football professionally too. For Arsenal and England. I’m here on holiday with my family but they can get kind of crazy sometimes so I want to have some alone time for a bit.”

“I know the feeling. I'm here with my sister but she drives me crazy most of the time.” you laughed along with her. 

“So you’re free then,” you halted your steps. “Spend the day with me?”

Alexia gave you a huge smile and you wanted the waves to swallow you whole, because how can someone be so gorgeous?

“I thought the answer was obvious the moment I let you drag me away from my unfinished cocktail.”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“That’s okay,” Alexia leaned forward and whispered in your ear. “As long as you admit that you’re attracted to me at the end of the day.”

You gulped, the close proximity was making your head spin. “Never,” you stuck your tongue out at her.

“We’ll see.” Alexia leaned back and grinned. “For now, can we go see some dolphins?”

You had already seen the dolphins the previous day. You hated it because the dolphins thought it was a good idea to splash water all over your brand new Dior bag and you swore you would never come back. 

But Alexia was looking at you with wide, excited eyes and a smile so bright that you didn’t have the heart to say no to her. So you went to see the dolphins and you did everything Alexia wanted.

The entire day, Alexia didn’t let go of your hand and you swore you had never been happier.

—

You and Alexia ended up talking to each other everyday ever since the Ibiza trip. She didn't exactly tell you that she felt the same way you did, but you figured that her constant flirting was supposed to clue you in. 

It went on for months and before you knew it, you were hopelessly in love with Alexia. 

Alexia was kind, thoughtful, she was so passionate about the sport that you both loved so dearly and you were just a goner. 

Who wouldn’t be, honestly?

It was certainly a bonus point that she was super attractive too. 

In the morning when Alexia would call you on facetime, and you were greeted with her face still full of sleep, blanket engulfing her as she recounts to you her plans for the day, you couldn't do anything but stare helplessly at how good she looked and how extra raspy her voice was. 

You and Alexia never put a label on things but you figured you were sort of… dating? Or it was a… situationship? Whatever it was, you knew it was beyond the level of friendship.

You loved your friends and you called them on the daily, but you couldn't imagine doing it to this extent. Alexia would call you in the mornings and at night. You’d call her when you got off training, you’d call her when you heard a funny joke Kyra said and you wanted to tell Alexia about it. She would call you when she got anxious because she was starting her match and her doubts of still being not good enough post ACL still haunted her.

You loved Leah, your bestest friend in the whole world, but you couldn't imagine telling her the things you told Alexia in the early hours of the morning. There were some things that you didn’t think you'd share with anyone, but with Alexia, it was… simple. It was easy. It felt right.

But maybe it was all in your head.

It went on for so long that you didn’t even think labeling it was important anymore. You were Alexia’s and she was yours.

She told you she loved you, for fuck’s sake.

She told you she loved you and one day when you were at camp, Lucy mentioned how Alexia was seeing someone.

Someone who you thought was you, but how could that be if Lucy was talking about having a double date at the best paella place in Barcelona with Alexia and her girlfriend when you were all the way in London. 

Apparently Alexia’s girlfriend was someone named Olga and they'd been dating for a few months and your blood pressure went through the roof.

A few months.

You thought you were dating Alexia for a few months (one year actually, but you didn’t give a fuck anymore).

You ignored Alexia’s call that night because, what the fuck? She had a girlfriend in Spain and you were what? Her side piece? That thought made you sick.

You didn't reply to Alexia’s messages anymore. Too hurt, too embarrassed at everything.

don’t text me again, Alexia 

I mean it

You declined all her calls and never bothered replying to her texts that were pleading to tell her what was wrong.

Eventually when weeks passed by and you still gave no response, she stopped trying.

You didn't know if you were relieved or disappointed.

—

It seemed like the universe had something against you because as soon as you got out of your car, Alexia was also getting out of her car across from you.

If you weren't so pissed off at the reminder that she was actually a part of Arsenal now, you would laugh at how comical this sight was—you scowling at her and Alexia scowling back at you.

“Bon día,” Alexia had the decency to greet you.

“Morning,” you grumpily greeted back.

You walked side by side into the building. you didn't know why, you could have walked faster, or slower, or turned in the other direction so you wouldn't have to walk by her side, but you did it anyway.

Despite only having hung out with her in person a few times during your time together/not together, you kinda missed her.

“Is this you finally being civil with me?” 

“I still hate you.”

“Okay ouch,” Alexia placed a hand over her heart, pouting at you. You continued to scowl at her, trying to hide how your heart had betrayed you and skipped a beat.

Before you had the chance to respond, you two arrived at the locker rooms. Only Leah was there, who immediately came over and sling an arm around your shoulder and grinned cheekily at you. “Best mates already, are we?”

You flicked Leah’s forehead, causing her to yelp and do the same to you. “Leave me alone, Leah,” you grumbled.

“Someone’s moody this morning,” Leah whispered to Alexia, to which the latter hummed in agreement.

“Have I mentioned how much I hate you both?”

Leah chuckled, whispering something to Alexia that you didn't quite catch. Nor did you care enough to find out. 

How funny was your life right now? Your best friend and your… something were friends. Ugh. Your ex-something, now your teammate. Ugh.

You were too caught up in unpacking your things that you didn't notice Leah calling your name.

“Y/N!” 

You turned around and raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“I’ve been calling you twice! Alexia distracting you that much?” Leah said teasingly.

You looked towards Alexia who was changing her clothes, leaving her in a Nike sports bra and her abs on full display. Fuck. Bad idea.

“Oh fuck off,” you quickly turned back around, feeling the heat rushed to your cheeks.

“Stop being so moody,” Leah shook her head in amusement. “You’re terrible when you’re moody.”

“Not moody.”

Leah chuckled like she couldnt believe you but she let it go. “We’re planning a welcome party for Alexia this weekend at my place. You’ll be there, yeah?”

Your reply was immediate. “No.”

“Oh I’m hurt,” speak of the devil. Alexia joined in on your conversation with Leah, now all dressed in her Arsenal training kit. Your eyes raked up and down her body. You didn’t have time to admire her in her Arsenal kit yesterday. (You wouldn't admit that it looked good on her.) “You won’t attend your own teammate’s welcoming party? Dios mío. So much for being a team.”

“Not if the teammate is you,” you retorted.

Alexia pouted at you. Leah looked like she was having the time of her life watching your interaction. “Do not be like that, darling,” Alexia teased. You badly wanted to smack her in the face. “You did say you have always wanted us to play together. Now we are on the same team and you are acting like you hate me?” 

At that your eyes bulged out of its sockets. Leah looked mostly confused. “I never said that!”

Alexia only smirked at you as she passed by, blowing you a kiss before she went off to the pitch. 

“She’s so bloody annoying,” you grumbled after her. “I never said anything like that!”

—

The first time you argued with Alexia on the pitch, it was entirely your fault. You could admit this. 

Alexia was dribbling the ball—looking so good doing it, like everything was so effortless for her, that you sort of got annoyed and went in to tackle her. It could’ve ended badly if it weren’t for Alexia’s quick reflexes.

“Oh come on! That’s a yellow!” Alexia looked genuinely pissed off, she quickly stood up, throwing her hands in the air. 

“Oops,” you shrugged, mockingly patting her cheeks. “Good reflexes though.”

All your teammates looked away as Jonas scolded you in front of everyone—not that you care, you weren’t hearing a word he said. You were too busy sending a smirk Alexia’s way. You didn’t look guilty in the slightest and that was probably what made Alexia’s blood boil.

She took her water bottle and she didn’t just spray water on you, she turned the cap and poured the whole thing on top of your head.

“Oops,” Alexia mocked your earlier words. 

Oh you were livid. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!” 

Alexia leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You should work on your reflexes, babe,” before walking away. She didn’t get to walk very far before you ran after her and jumped on her back, tackling her to the ground.

You didn’t know what you wanted to do but you were so annoyed at Alexia—annoyed that she was able to get under your skin, annoyed that she was so attractive and you were still so attracted to her even though she broke your heart! It was ridiculous.

You were tackling each other on the field, and you could hear Alexia start to laugh and you realized it was because you were tickling her and Alexia was ticklish.

“Y/N! Stop! What the hell!” You sure as hell weren’t stopping now.

(It was definitely not because of how addictive the sound of Alexia’s laughter was.)

“Say sorry!” You shouted back, you were straddling her at this point, your hands still poking at her sides.

“No!”

“Alexia! Say sorry!”

“No! Get off!”

“I’m not getting off until you say sorry!”

All your teammates were watching the scene with bewilderment on their faces. Earlier, when you tackled Alexia, everyone was holding their breath, anticipating the bomb that was due to explode anytime (the bomb here being the tension created by you and Alexia being in each other’s vicinity). 

Now, everyone was just amused. You two were still taking turns straddling each other, trying to outpower the other, a scowl ever present on your face (although if one were to look closely, you did let a smile slip). Everyone thought you hated each other. Jonas was making himself go crazy trying to find the history between you, needing to find a solution to make you like each other as one of you leaving was not an option.

Now, everyone could see that you two were fine. Some unresolved tension, for sure. Full on hatred? Not so much.

—

The days passed by pretty quickly and the next thing you knew you were standing in front of Leah’s door, about to enter Alexia’s welcoming party, the one you were adamant to not show up to.

Leah then threatened to take away your PlayStation for a month to which you finally caved in with the biggest sigh and “Remember Lee, it’s not about me wanting to be friends with Alexia, okay? I literally cannot live if you revoke my PlayStation privileges!”

You entered Leah’s place with an even more sour mood than you were at training this week.

Training was fine, as always. Having Alexia there to train with you in London Colney was not fine.

(Although you couldn’t help but notice how well you and Alexia played with each other, managing to have some sort of telepathy that let you two find one another on the pitch. 

Just your damn luck.)

You made your rounds and spoke with everyone. You were less tense now, somehow having adjusted to Alexia being around.

You could see the relief in Leah and Kim’s face when they saw you weren’t trying to start fights with the new signing anymore.

So much so that they decided it was you and Alexia that had to be the one to get more beers in Leah’s pantry. You took the instructions with a scowl, Alexia trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

You entered Leah’s pantry (if one could even call it that, it was spacious, Leah had more space than one living alone would need), and you were about to tell Alexia to hold the door open and not let it shut because the handle was broken and Leah still haven’t gotten it fixed when Alexia shut the door closed.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“Guess we’re stuck here.”

—

After both of you had tried your luck by pulling the door handle and nothing seemed to work, you two settled on the floor, sitting on opposite ends of the room.

You were scowling at the blonde, who was looking everywhere but you, a guilty expression on her face.

“This is all your fault,” you were sulking. You both stupidly didn’t bring your phones and you couldn’t call anyone for help. “This is all your fault,” you repeated.

“I told you, I’m sorry,” Alexia mumbled, bringing her knees to her chest. You hated that she looked like a kicked puppy.

You sighed. Maybe you were being too harsh on her. “I’m surprised there hasn't been an uproar online with you leaving Barcelona,” you changed the subject.

Alexia raised an eyebrow at you, not expecting you to start another conversation apart from telling her that being stuck here was Alexia’s fault. “It hasn't been announced yet,” she clarified.

“Well, goodluck,” you felt bad for her. Just a bit. “They’re going to rip you apart for that. Unloyal, how you downgraded, and all that.”

Alexia let out a big sigh. “I know. I have prepared myself for it. The goodbye video is a good one though, it was so emotional, I even cried. I just hope people understand.”

You looked at her, you still couldn’t understand her. “I thought you loved Barça? You are quite literally a carbon copy of Leah with Arsenal.”

“I did. I do. I love the club with all my heart, you know that.”

When you didn't reply Alexia continued.

“There were a lot of factors, to put it simply. Financials, is one. I didn’t like that in order for me to receive more, someone has to get less. We won the Quadruple, we won a lot of fucking things for the club, there should be enough money going around. Anyway, I won’t go into detail because it is a lot more complicated than that. Then there was going to be changes, with Jona leaving and all. I didn’t like where it was headed.”

Alexia took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t want to leave everyone behind, but I felt that it was for the best. They still have Marta and Patri so I’m leaving them in good hands.”

“Sorry to hear that,” you murmured, now feeling guilty for your behaviour towards her ever since she got here.

Alexia turned to look at you and gone were the wistful look in her eyes. She looked serene—if that was even possible after leaving the club of your life.

“Then you were also a factor, definitely,” Alexia said so softly that you might have missed it. “I didn't know why you were suddenly ignoring me, I feel like I definitely did something wrong because we were fine one day and not the next. I want to apologize for whatever it was. I really do miss you.”

You could only look at her as you processed her words. Your loud laugh broke the silence “Me? You moved to shitty Arsenal because of me? Please be serious.”

Alexia laughed at that. “Don’t call your club shitty. I think it’s quite a good club. With an interesting league.”

“If you're comparing it to Barcelona—“

“I like it here so far,” Alexia interjected. “You should be proud of your club.”

“Of course I am—”

“And you’re here so it’s definitely a bonus point.”

“No, no, wait, just pause,” you ran your hand through your hair as you took a deep breath. What the fuck was going on. You stood up and started pacing the floor, Alexia looking at you expectantly. “You,” you pointed at her. “Moved to Arsenal, to bloody London,” you waved your hand around, “because of me?” you pointed at yourself in disbelief.

“One of the reasons, yes.”

“No!”

Alexia looked taken aback at your outburst, her face showing that she was amused at you. “What do you mean no?”

“No as in you're lying.”

“I’m not lying,” she rolled her eyes at you. 

“Yes, you are.”

Alexia mumbled some Catalan you didn't understand and stood up, inching closer to you. When she was about to take your hand, you immediately pulled away, “Stop,” you warned her, “you have a girlfriend.”

“What?” Now it was you who was taken aback by her outburst.

“I know all about your Spanish girlfriend,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “So cut it out.”

“I don’t have a Spanish girlfriend?” Alexia was confused and you were too, but you know she has a hot, Spanish girlfriend somewhere in Barcelona and it was igniting the rage in the pit of your stomach.

“Lucy told me that you went on a double date with her and Ona. While we were together,” you scoffed. “So not only do you have a girlfriend but you cheated.”

“What!” Alexia looked at you like you were crazy. “Cheated? Sí, I was in love with you, but we were never together?!”

Your jaw went slack at that, how could she?

“Never together- all the daily calls and texts and the I love you? Jesus, Alexia. What was all that?”

Realization seemed to dawn on her face at the same time as yours. There was a chance that… Alexia didn’t think you were together when you thought otherwise…?

“I didn’t—” Alexia sighed, shaking her head. “I thought we were friends!”

You groaned, palming your face. Oh my god. This must singlehandedly be the most humiliating point in your life. You were heartbroken over someone who didn't think you were together? “What kind of friends—”

“Okay, okay,” Alexia stepped closer to you, her hands reaching out in an attempt to touch yours. “Lo siento. I really am.” You let her touch you, Alexia immediately holding your hands and running soothing circles with her thumb.

“I didn't know you felt that way towards me, honestly,” Alexia continued. “I was trying to forget you, so I went out with someone for a bit but it was nothing serious. I—wait, was that why you stopped talking to me?”

Still feeling the embarrassment, you pulled your hands from her grip and began walking towards the door. Before you remembered that you were locked in. Great.

Alexia caught up to you, essentially blocking your path. Not that you could go anywhere anyway. 

“Y/N,” Alexia gave a small laugh and you frowned at her. What was so funny about this? “You thought we were together?”

Your frown deepend even further, hearing her say it out loud was so, so embarrassing. “Yeah, whatever, go ahead and laugh at me.”

Alexia turned serious at your tone. “I am not laughing at you. I promise,” she took your hands in hers. “I think it is… cute. We both suck at communication. I’m sorry.” Alexia brought your hands up to her lips, pressing the softest kiss to your knuckles. 

You wanted to die, in a good way. But you were still so embarrassed about this whole thing, so you remained quiet.

“I was in love with you,” Alexia clarified. “Still am. But I did not know that you feel the same—“

You groaned. “I don’t call my friends 24/7 or end everything with an ‘I love you’. Of course I was in love with you!”

“I am oblivious, I know!” Alexia laughed. “Sorry! But you never clarified things.”

“I thought it was obvious,” you pushed her shoulder halfheartedly. “If we were to date and you do those things with someone else, I would be concerned.”

“Never,” Alexia placed her hands around your waist, having you essentially pressed against her. “Sorry again about everything.”

“You should be,” you whispered, the close proximity making your heart beat wildly against your chest. “You broke my heart without knowing it.”

“Won’t ever do it again, te prometo,” Alexia rested her forehead against yours. Alexia filled all your senses and you were overcome with a wave of contentment. “Just so we are clear… you like me in a romantic sense and you want to date me, romantically, yes?”

You could only roll your eyes, grabbing her by the neck to pull her in for a kiss.

Suddenly the door flew open, causing you two to break apart. It was Leah, a bewildered look on her face with a screwdriver in hand. You didn’t even realize she was trying to open the door.

“I thought you two hated each other?!”

You opened your mouth to reply but you didn't get the chance to, not when Alexia grabbed your jaw to turn you towards her and placed her lips back on yours.

“Seriously?!”

You heard Leah muttering curse words as she slammed the door shut and Alexia giggling against your lips at the same time. You were the most content you had ever been.

—

bonus:

When you and Alexia weren’t throwing snide remarks at one another, people started to look at you weirdly, apart from Leah, obviously, who was sporting the biggest scowl on her face.

You didn't get a chance to talk to her after she caught you, your best friend prying the door open once more then left without a word, trying to act like a good host and preparing unnecessary foods and drinks for everyone. Basically, she was ignoring you.

You've known Leah all your life and you knew she was pissed that she was kept in the dark about your… developments with Alexia. To be fair, the developments did happen a few minutes before Leah got the door to open, so you didn't really have time to tell her.

Plus, you hadn't told her about how you and Alexia were sort of together but not really for a year and you knew Leah would be even more pissed that you decided to omit this from her. You loved Leah for it though. You knew she meant well. She was very protective over you.

You knew better than to approach Leah when she was like this, opting to leave her to brood in peace for a few days.

You would tell her about Alexia eventually, never really one to keep secrets from her. 

At the thought of Alexia, you instantly had a smile on your face.

You two were back to the way it was before—regular calls and texts, only this time you could meet each other for coffee in between the time you weren’t calling or texting each other.

This time, you two were on the same page. You were in love with each other. No one else. And you were dating each other—no one else.

Training became… eventful. 

Not only were you and Alexia civil, you two were making jokes with each other. At one point, you even managed to hug her discreetly, when no one was around—or so you thought anyway.

“Whoa.”

You instantly pulled back at the voice, it turned out to be Mariona, Alexia’s Spain teammate.

“Since when is La Reina a hugger?”

“Shut up, Mario,” Alexia glared at her, although you could see the small smile on her lips. “We are dating. Of course we hug. Just be thankful we were not in the middle of making out or doing something worse.”

What?

You could only stare at Alexia in shock, mouth hanging open. Mariona was the same, she was catatonic.

Whatever you were expecting to come out of Alexia’s mouth, it wasn't that.

“I think you broke poor Mario,” a voice chimed in from the doorway. “I was the one who walked in on their making out session,” Leah continued, stepping into the room. “That was pretty traumatizing.”

Leah was looking at you with that glint in her eyes, one that told you all was well. “You still mad at me Williamson?”

Leah scoffed. “Oh please. Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I didn’t tell you Ale and I were a thing, and because you had to walk in on me being all over her- in my defense, have you seen her? How could you not want to jump her bones—”

“Okay, nope!” Leah closed her eyes with a grimace, trying to burn the memory away. “Please, please keep it in your pants.”

You shook your head fondly at her, moving forward to engulf her in a hug. “Dinner at my place tonight?”

Leah pulled back and placed the sloppiest kiss on your cheek. “Sure, darling. I know you’ve missed me!”

“Lee! What the fuck!” Leah was giggling and you were shooting daggers at her. Alexia was looking at the both of you with amusement on her face. 

Mariona suddenly burst into laughter, taking everyone by surprise. “This is gold,” Mariona said in between her laughs. “So I am not the only one who moved countries for a girl?”

Alexia looked genuinely offended at the accusation. “I did not move here because of a girl!”

You wrapped your arms around her waist, “Oh you so did, babe. That’s okay, no one is holding it against you. I am pretty hot.”

Alexia was about to counter your statement when Mariona chimed in, an ear-splitting grin on her face, “I am going to go tell everyone about this.”

“What- no! Mario!” Alexia went to chase after the brunette who had made her exit. You could hear their voices echoing throughout the hall. “I moved here because of a lot of reasons, you know this!”

“So,” Leah kicked your shoe to get your attention. “Alexia, huh? Didn't you say she was overrated?”

“Shut up.”

[cryinginmyroomsposts]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

tags: angst, fluff in ending, dancer Hyunjin, non-idol!au, college au, swearing

summary: Being in the coveted dance team of the university was no small feat. After being in the team for a whole year, you find yourself about to participate in a prestigious inter-college competition for Duet performance with none other than the college IT boy and dance team captain- Hyunjin. You'd spent one year suppressing your big fat crush on the charming boy, but now that you find yourself dancing in his arms, he just might paint you golden.

wordcount: 6.4k

Note: This can be read as a one-shot but I was kind of expanding on the universe from the Lee Know oneshot Mr Gorgeous.

masterlist

Let me know your thoughts and feedback.

It was a nice Sunday morning and like every college student, all you wanted to do was sleep in. But unlike every student, you’re part of the university dance team. From the outside looking in, it was the most glamorous group to be a part of. Being a part of the team inherently gave you the highest social status on campus. You got special exemptions from certain tests and even privileges for missing mandatory events.

Little did they know that all the shine comes with a mountain of hard work. Getting into the dance team itself was a major task lasting 5 entire rounds of selections in multiple genres, solo and group showcase. And once you make it, there is no room for complacency. The team did at least three performances a month- in-house and external. So the only constant in your lives was practice sessions, assignments and sleepless nights.

For being the most desired group on campus, the dance team never got the time to do any of the popular kid things, apart from the validation itself. Except for the dance team co-captain, of course. Hwang Hyunjin will not let busy schedules and tiring practices stop him from being the campus IT boy. Nobody, literally nobody, is privy to his charms.

Including you.

Despite a lifetime of training in dance, the primary reason you tried out for the dance team was Hyunjin. You still remember the goosebumps on your skin and the way your jaw was on the floor the entire time he was on stage. On the day of your freshman orientation a year ago, you had joined hundreds gathered in the amphitheatre to see the dance team perform. The then sophomore, Hyunjin along with his friend Lino (Lee Minho), had been the stars of the show. The entire team, including the charming ex-captain- Chris, were immaculate. The performance was so power-packed mixed with equal parts grace and emotions. While the boys had done a hip-hop rendition, the girls had taken a contemporary approach. The two eventually collided to meet in the modern-pop genre for the finale. You decided then to join the dance team, so you did a few months later.

Although you should’ve decided against harbouring a huge crush on said It-boy. In the first two shows after making the team, you were nothing but a blubbering mess. It took all of your conscious energy to not stammer every time he so much as looked at you. Ultimately, you mellowed down, or maybe the reality of seeing Hyunjin woo more than half the campus with his charms and leave a trail of broken hearts got to you.

You still respected him as a dancer, it’s hard not to when he oozes power, grace and sometimes the literal demon while dancing. His on-stage persona was almost entirely different from the idiot who runs around pissing off his Co-captain Minho, or constantly trying to borderline harass the newest and youngest addition to the team- Jeongin.

Your phone alarm starts ringing bringing you back to reality- Sunday morning rehearsal. You silence it before it disturbs your roommates’ precious sleep. Trying your best to tiptoe your way around the dorm room, getting ready and after grabbing a granola bar from your desk, you make your way to the practice room.

On the way you meet your favourite person on the team- Felix (truth be told he’s everyone’s favourite).

“Hii Y/n.” He waves furiously giggling as he walks up to you.

“Hi Felix” you giggle back, simply because it’s impossible not to get affected by his infectious joy.

“How are you so cheerful at 6:30 AM?” You ask as he gives you a side hug. He just shrugs and skips alongside you to the practice room. You let out a little laugh at the little ball of sunshine that is Felix as he starts animatedly telling you random stories.

The practice room is in shambles. You and Felix exchange a flabbergasted look at each other and look around the room again. Everyone is crowded in the centre and talking over one another.

“Y/N! Come here. Fast.” You hear your Sumi, your teammate, call from somewhere amidst the chaos. When the team starts noticing you enter the room, they fall silent. They move back from crowding in the centre and you realise all eyes are switching between you and Sumi who is holding a paper in her hands.

“What’s going on?”

Sumi gulps and hands over the paper to you.

Inter-College Dance Competition Category: Duet Participants: Hyunjin and Y/N

Shit. Holy shit.

“Morning guys.”

The voice startled you. You whip your head to see Hyunjin enter the room, his duffel bag on his shoulder, clothes crumpled, and hair in a messy bun. Yet he looked ethereal.

He looks at you and smiles. “Oh Y/n, you’ve heard the news. Good, we can get down to the details then.”

Details? What details? Oh, right dance.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure.” You finally manage with a nod.

“Alright guys let's start, we’ll do a couple run-throughs till noon, take a break and convene here at 4:30pm to get ready for the show. Finally, we go up there and rock the crowd. Sound like a plan?”

Everyone cheers and you nod, still processing the fact that you had been chosen to dance a duet with Hyunjin. Not just any performance but the biggest inter-college competition in the state. With Hyunjin. A duet. You. And Hyunjin. Good god it’s going to be a ride.

The team goes into a practised routine of rehearsals, chaos, more rehearsals and even more chaos.

At 1 PM you’re glad you can finally rest for a few hours before the performance. The evening rolls in, and you head to the green room. One by one, the girls start getting ready and the green room is already chaotic but becomes a full-blown circus once the boys crowd in.

From your place, you watch as Hyunjin hugs Jeongin so tight that the poor junior looks like he could die. Lino is sitting in his favourite corner (he has one everywhere he goes), cuddled up with his girlfriend- man has been the biggest simp since they got together a month ago. Felix is going around giving everyone motivation and cheering them up- typical Felix. He hugs you so tight and warm, you can feel the nerves physically leave you. Then there’s Yeji and Lia, discussing choreo parts with Sumi and others. The air in here is infectious, everyone is equal parts excited and nervous.

The performance goes by in a whizz, the adrenaline rushing through your entire body as you stand on stage witnessing your friends, classmates, seniors and juniors in the crowds enjoying the performance.

You feel alive.

Afterwards, you change out of the costume into your sweats and meet all your classmates who had come backstage to support you. The gratitude that fills your chest leaves you emotional.

You give Jeongin a tight hug, congratulating him on his official performance as part of the team. Even if he hates the hug, he gracefully accepts it and smiles wide. You were very entirely endeared by his cuteness- everyone was. Specifically his super fan Hyunjin.

Think of the devil and watch as he walks to where you and Jeongin are. Even though you squished down your tiny crush, you've always felt nervous around him- simply because he is Hwang Hyunjin. Now the impending performance and the sheer idea of having to spend weeks practising with Hyunjin- one on one, is doing no help to your nerves.

"Jeonginahhhhh," he squeals and you step back as he hugs the younger member. Jeongin tries his best to smile and endure it but fails, making you crack up.

"Hi Y/N," Hyunjin says, finally letting the younger one go free finally and turning to you.

"Hey, Hyunjin. Amazing performance." You manage to say, trying to keep your nerves at bay.

"Thanks. You did well too." He flashes his smile, his fringe falling to his face and his eye twinkling as his cheeks light up.

There goes any attempt of calming your nerves.

Hyunjin continues to shower Jeongin with compliments, rightfully so, and you watch how he looks carefree and young as the latter is glowing in pride and embarrassment.

Right as you turn to take your leave, Hyujin calls your name.

"Yeah?"

"We need to discuss the performance, when can we meet about that?"

The frown on your face turns up before you realise it and he laughs.

"I get it. I need a break too. Maybe we can meet on Friday evening?"

"Yeah, sure. That works for me."

"It's a date."

A what?

But before you can mull over what he meant, your friends drag you out of the green room to celebrate. You were glad for the welcome distraction. Especially watching Seungmin and Yumi constantly fight over everything as you and Jisung sit there laughing at their antics.

----------

"Y/n, You can do this! It is just dancing. You've been doing this your whole life. Well, not dancing with Hyunjin, but the semantics don't matter. You can still do this. It is just called a duet, maybe the two of you will not even be on stage at the same time. Hyunjin is a busy guy, he might just ask you to do your own choreo for your part. Y/n, I know you're gonna sla-"

"Y/n, I will MURDER you if you don't get out of the bathroom right fucking now."

Yumi's voice breaks you out of the pep-talk you were giving yourself in the bathroom mirror. You give yourself one final thumbs up and head out to see a fuming Yumi standing on the other side.

She grunts like a wounded dog and you giggle as you hug her in apology.

"Sorry. Anyways, I'm heading out now. Haffun." You pick up your bags and start walking toward the dorm room door.

"I will. All the best for your meeting. And Y/n?" You hum looking at her.

"It'll be alright, don't stress out too much." You nod appreciatively and wave as you head out.

The whole way to the practice room, you keep repeating the pep-talk to yourself. You've spent a good amount of time in the last four days telling yourself that the date comment is just a habit for the pro-charmer Hyunjin and it means nothing. You might've also spent a good few hours warning yourself not to develop any embarrassing feelings for him.

When you enter the practice room, you see Hyunjin, Yeji and Minho sitting in a corner discussing something. As the only seniors in the group, they make all the logistical and creative decisions for the team. Minho spots you first, smiling politely and Yeji follows suit. Hyunjin nods in your direction as the three of them start to pack up.

Yeji and Minho make small talk with you before leaving and you're left alone with Hyunjin. He sits down in the centre of the room, in front of the full-length mirror, and ties his shoes as you walk toward him. He's in his usual sweats and hair tied in a half-up bun.

"Hi." You mutter as you sit down next to him.

"Hello. Had a nice break?" He smiles and you nod.

"Yeah, slept like a pig. What about you?"

"Meh, I mean I got a break from the dancing but still... senior year you know. I'm just perpetually tired." He does look tired and you nod sympathetically.

"Well, I'm sure you'll fare better than me as a senior next year." He says with a smile, sounding sincere and it takes everything in you not to blush.

So much for no embarrassing feelings.

"Oh, sure. Don't downplay your achievements. No one could lead this team the way you do." You were speaking the facts but seeing him smile wide and bright made your stomach flip.

"Aye you don't need to butter me up anymore, you got the part in the biggest competition now."

"Hey, I wasn't trying to butter you up." You feign mock offence.

"Okay, I believe you. Anyway, let's start with the concept."

Please say anything except sexy or love.

"So the concept is love- more like finding your way back to love. So I thought we would do something where estranged exes find their way back to each other kind of."

Big time fuck.

You nod and smile as you process his words and what this might mean for said embarrassing feelings (which you will not harbour). You decide to be a professional and only focus on dancing.

"Yeah, that sounds cool. Do you have any choreo already planned?"

"Yeah." He pulls up his laptop from his bag and shows a video. Hyunjin and Yeji are dancing in the video, the dance is… touchy to say the least. You refuse to acknowledge the churning in your stomach as you see the two of them dance closely.

The dance is split into three parts- starting with solos expressing the regret and anger that both parties have, proceeding to a mirroring sequence where their anguish aligns and finally, the slow dance symbolising the happy ending.

Once the dance ends you stare at the blank screen for a minute before turning to see that Hyunjin is expectantly staring at you.

“So?” He asks with raised eyebrows and a small smile playing on his lips.

“Umm it’s amazing. As usual.” He smiles and waves away the compliment.

“I have one doubt though, why didn’t Yeji and you perform this?” Your voice comes out low and quiet. A part of you hopes your question doesn't make him rethink and choose Yeji instead- for dance, of course.

He shakes his head sidewise, a shy smile on his face. "It didn't feel right."

"Oh."

"Alright, so I can start teaching you the common parts and we can modify according to our needs as we go. I'll leave the solo to you. Okay?"

"Yeah cool."

Lord knows how this is going to end.

----------

"Hyunjin, let's do this once more and then we'll move on to the next part." You reprimand a whining Hyunjin, lying face-first on the practice room floor. It's the fourth day of practice sessions and both of you are running out of fuel quickly.

"Y/n, you're doing good. Let's just take a break and start with the slow dance part." He whines turning to face you with a pout.

You want to give in to his antics but you hold your stand. Partly because it is a mirroring dance and you desperately want to be completely in sync with Hyunjin (the man dances like he is the god of dance). Another part because you wanted to delay the thought of starting the next section of the performance because the thought of being close to Hyunjin and doing the slow-contemporary dance section made your legs turn to slime.

"No. I just want to perfect this. Just onceeee. Then we can take a break, and start the- the other part." You flash him your best puppy-dog face and he sighs as he gets up from the floor.

"Alright let's do this but I don't know what you are worrying about, you're perfect already."

Cue embarrassing butterflies and feelings you definitely do not feel.

And like clockwork, the two of you start moving according to the beat. You had watched Hyunjin's every minuscule movement and so had he. Now you are in so much sync that the perfectionist in both of you is almost entirely satiated.

"Okay... that was brilliant Y/n. Please let's take a break and start learning the next part." He says taking deep breaths and chugging water. You can barely nod as you catch your breath.

The next hour is spent eating the dinner you ordered a while back, reviewing the latest run and the choreography video.

"What are you thinking for the solo part?" He asks between bites and you have to admit he looks cute with his cheeks filled as he chews and frowns as he enjoys the food.

"I'm thinking of sticking to my roots- just contemporary."

"Oh that's good. You're good at contemporary."

"I- Thanks." He smiles.

"You should do something similar to your audition performance."

You nod involuntarily and then his words sink in. "You remember that?"

"Yeah, I do. It was an amazing performance Y/N. I'm sure everyone remembers it." You scoff and he raises an eyebrow.

"Minho asked me if I am new, last month."

He laughs. "No no, that's just his messed up humour sense. But anyways, I speak for myself when I say it's hard to forget such a good performance. And you."

You end up swallowing a big bite of your burger and start to choke as he just smiles and hands you the water bottle. Before you can say anything, he is up for the next part.

It starts fine, the two of you slowly moving toward each other with each step- from mirroring each other to reaching out. Then comes the trickier part. It starts with your hands brushing, the two of you circling around the other, looking into each other. Obviously, you look anywhere but his face. Because staring into those eyes will not do anything good for you. He doesn't say anything if he notices the little flinches or lack of eye contact.

The two of you keep practising the moves over and over until both of you are satisfied with the flow. Now it is becoming increasingly hard for you to focus on these details. Especially considering how your heart is beating in your ears with every step the two of you take.

He needs to hold your hand and move it in a curve while his other hand is on your hip. And it gets worse, as the following step requires you to turn and face him, your hands on his neck, his on your hips as you bend away and come back to his embrace. He suggests going over each movement slowly and it worsens your plight. You hear his voice from a distance as you do your best not to stare at his lips that are inches away. You can see that he is saying something and you find yourself nodding along. You do the step according to his counts and return to his embrace.

This is when you do the mistake of looking up at his face, he is staring down at you too. You see the black fringes that have escaped the bun, sticking to the corners of his face. His forehead is lined with beads of sweat, thin darkened eyes, and plump lips slightly apart. The clock ticks somewhere but neither of you seems to realise, until eventually, you snap back into sense- the inherent panic of feelings stirring in your stomach.

You step back and look at your feet, he stays still and starts fidgeting with his hands.

"I- Um... It's almost 10. I- I should head back." You stammer, slowly looking at him. He looks at you for a second and nods. You nod and start collecting your things.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" And thud goes your water bottle, slipping from your hands- entirely due to your clumsiness and nothing to do with butterflies, of course.

"Uh no not necessary. It's just a 5 min walk." You hope he looks disappointed but hope is a dangerous game for a fool trying to live in denial.

"Ok. Bye." He turns to his bag before you can say your bye and that's that.

------

"Two days. That's all we have for the performance! And this is when Hyunjin decides he can just go galivanting about and not show up to practice." You groan to yourself, standing in front of the full-length mirror in the practice room.

The last two weeks of practice have been a lot less eventful compared to the first. After the first day of doing the slow dance, things shifted between Hyunjin and you. Both of you became more distant and closer, at the same time. Some days you bickered like childhood besties, and on others, both of you walked around each other on eggshells. He often showed up to morning practice with crumpled clothes and messed up hair and your heart would drop to your stomach realising he must've spent the night with someone else. You would immediately reprimand yourself for making assumptions just to get your feelings in check.

And yet here you were, mind running in a million different directions as you figure he could be with anybody right now, while you sit in the musty old practice room at 7pm on a Saturday evening. These thoughts never helped, so you resort to your comfort zone- dancing.

And for the third time that evening, you go over your solo part and the rest of the dance. You are tired of dancing the same things so you start freestyling to your favourite tracks. Dancing always made you feel good, especially when you poured all your emotions out through your body. You lost yourself to the song, letting the beat and your body carry you away.

That's how you fail to notice Hyunjin's arrival until you get startled by the loud claps coming from the door. You whip your head around to see him standing with his go-to sweatshirt, duffel bag and hair in a bun. He is smiling wide, the kind that made his eyes small and cheeks full.

"Y/N, that was sooo goood. I've never seen you move like that till now. That was amazing, really!"

This boy made it so hard to live in denial with his charm, kind words and that smile. And that's why you can do nothing but smile and giggle like a little girl as you mutter a small thanks.

"Sorry, I got caught up in work. Have you been waiting long?" You watch as he puts his bag down and starts stretching and you see that his sweatshirt is inside out, and his hair is messier than you've ever seen. Here's the thing about this boy- he goes around breaking hearts without intending to. And here's the thing about unrequited crushes- you become somewhat of an Agatha Christie, just connecting all the randomest dots just to make up reasons to let your heart down again, it's almost a masochistic need. Logically, you knew better than to assume messy clothes meant anything of significance. But as a woman on a mission to prevent herself from falling deeper, you would grip onto anything that provides an anchor for your heart- even if it means you end up breaking your heart anyway.

And which is why you blurt out, "Why do you care if I wait... I'm sure you have better people to attend to anyway."

The piercing tone of your voice makes Hyunjin stop in his tracks and look at you through the mirror. The room is dead silent as you pick apart the skin in your cuticles in an attempt to keep the tears from falling and your heart from breaking further. Maybe it was the exhaustion, the all too familiar feeling of heartache that comes with unrequited love, but the shell you had so carefully maintained had come crashing down.

"Wha- What are you saying?" His voice comes soft and nervous. You do the mistake of looking up, through the mirror. You scoff and swallow the tears back, "No, nothing. I just- forget it. Let's practice."

"Are you sure? You just said something abou-"

"Can we just practice once and get over with this. I'm exhausted." You snap.

He just nods and proceeds to start the music. You don't look at him, not even during the mirroring sequence, he huffs a little too loudly at that. The run-through itself goes smoothly, until the last sequence. It's hard to do a romantic slow dance when you refuse to meet his eyes and keep flinching every time he touches you. Still, both of you push through. You get out of his clutches the second the song ends and start to pack your things.

"Y/N, why are you already packing?"

This boy makes it very hard not to get unreasonably angry at him because he doesn't let you hate him.

"It's almost 9 pm Hyunijn. I have been here since 6, I'm tired." He just nods and stays silent. You gather your things, throw your bag on your shoulder and leave. If he realises that this is the first time in two weeks you didn't wave or say bye enthusiastically like you usually do, he doesn't show it. If he realises that this is the first time in two weeks that he hasn't asked to walk you back to your dorm and you refused the offer like you usually do, he doesn't show it. The walk back to the dorm feels a lot heavier for the first time.

The next day is nothing short of a struggle, your eyes burning due to the incessant crying from the previous night, mind spinning everywhere and body weak. You were ashamed to have let your feelings mess you up so bad. Usually, you'd be extra careful to eat more and rest well during practice and performance times. This is probably the first time that you show up to the dress rehearsal with big bags beneath your eyes and feeling like a mess. It's not your first unrequited heartbreak, just the first time it feels this heavy and lonely.

The rehearsal is sullen- neither you nor Hyunjin makes any effort to talk. The tension in the air gets to the audiences for the day- Minho, Felix and Yeji. They exchange looks and try their best to engage both of you in some kind of conversation- it doesn't work. You put on the outfit and it makes you look decent despite your haggard state. The salt in the wound is how gorgeous Hyunjin looks in his outfit- not surprising, but still annoying considering he walked in looking downright homeless and sleep-deprived. The outfit doesn't hide the state of his face, yet he looks gorgeous. A week earlier both of you had been so excited to see the outfits, you even had hopes of Hyunjin finally seeing what is in front of his eyes. Yeah, stupid embarrassing feelings.

There are two full run-throughs, and the emotions until the last part is so enthralling to the audience. The three watching can see the tension flash as the two of you do your best to avoid each other's eyes and finish the dance. They don't press much, you're thankful for that. Getting out of the outfit, ready to head back to the dorm, you step out of the door only to find Hyunjin standing there- back in his oversized sweatshirt, messy hair and sullen expression. He always looked a lot younger and innocent when he wasn't performing, and you liked that about him- until now.

"Y/N, can I walk you to your dorm?" His voice quivers and he looks like an actual wounded puppy.

"Not needed." You avoid his gaze to evade giving in and walk away before he can retaliate. You always refused his offer knowing it was just another steep step right into disaster- as if the one already caused wasn't enough. You've also seen him pull the same gentlemanly moves with girls and boys across the campus and watch the poor suckers fall for him only to get burnt. Even after trying your best, you got burnt, you didn't need more reason.

------

"Y/N, can we just talk once before going on stage please," Hyunjin begs from the driver's seat. He is driving the two of you to the competition and the minute you sit down he says this.

"Let's just go. I have a headache." It wasn't a lie, but it felt bad rejecting him that way. The rest of the drive is silent, save for the faint music coming from the radio- which was annoyingly filled with love songs. After an hour's drive, you both arrive at the location. the entire place is filled with students from multiple universities across the state, all excited and dressed up, except for the two of you. You hate yourself for making this hard for both of you, especially when he did nothing actually wrong.

Stupid feelings.

"Stop fidgeting with your nails." Hyunjin snaps at you. He is sitting next to you in the green room- looking ethereal with makeup and costume on.

"I'm trying." You grunt back. There are ten minutes left for the performance and both of you are getting increasingly agitated.

"I'll help," is all he says before taking your hand in his and caging it there as looks toward the side of the stage. You try to protest but he clutches your hand pretty firmly.

"I won't burn you, stop squirming." His words effectively shut you up. You try to numb the feelings arising from his touch. You almost manage to do it until you realise he is rubbing circles around your palm. You're simultaneously calming down and getting more worked up. But he does manage to distract you till it's go-time. He gives you a small genuine smile and you nod, almost letting the tears fall. His face deflates but he immediately collects himself and goes into performance mode.

The music begins, you look out into the crowd, the nerves turn to excitement, and you feel alive. Hyunjin's solo leaves the crowd in awe. The audience goes wild during the mirroring sequence. But all the sound starts draining out as you move closer to him. You look at him, he looks at you, and your hands intertwine. The both of you move according to the beat- the only thing that exists right now is the music, Hyunjin and you. For the next minute he's yours and you're his. No one needs to know, the world could divide you later but for now, this was your sacred oasis.

A tear rolls down your cheek, and he reaches to brush it off in sync with the beat. His eyes sparkle, and there are a million emotions behind them. You want to hold on, you want to dance with him as long as you can. Both of you are in the tightest embrace you've ever been in, with shallow breaths, wet eyes and a big lump in your throat. The applause makes you break and look at the audience.

Neither of you speaks as you wait backstage for the last performance. You look everywhere but at him, trying to be as discreet as possible while rubbing the tears off your face. Eventually, all contestants are called up on stage. Hyunjin and you stand shoulder to shoulder, his palm brushing against yours but never reaching to hold on. The third and second places have been announced, the room is pulsing with tension and yet all you can think about is the man on your right.

You faintly hear your name, along with Hyunjin's, and it takes two seconds to realize that you've won the competition. What should've been the highest of highs of your life feels anti-climatic. You look up at him, both of you are smiling wide with teary eyes. You bear tears of fear and heartache, while he is probably teary-eyed on achieving this prestigious prize. The two of you collect the prize, congratulate fellow participants, and socialise with the other people there with practised smiles.

After an exhausting hour, the two of you are back in Hyunjin's car, still in outfits and makeup. He drives silently and you close your eyes fearing the tears will fall down otherwise. The car halts a while later as you've reached the campus. Both of you collect your things, take the cup and medal you won to the practice room and change out of the costumes.

Just as you turn to leave the room and head back to the dorms, he stops you with a hand on his wrist. You turn to question him but he doesn't look at you. He's locking the door with one hand as he holds on to you with the other. You roll your eyes.

"Hyunjin let me go."

He turns, now done with the lock, and starts walking forward as he drags you with him.

"Let me go, Hyunjin. I'm serious." He keeps walking, and you follow, until you've reached a room that looks like a storage room. He stops in front of the door and still doesn't let go of your hand. You're too confused to say anything although your head is buzzing with a million questions.

"When someone asks to walk you back, you should let them."

"Huh?" He turns to look at you, eyes dark and serious. He hasn't taken his makeup yet and he looks positively dangerous if not enthralling.

"I said, stop refusing when I ask to walk you back." His words are sharp and his voice is low.

"Why? What does that change?" The sting in your eye returns, you can't bare to look at him so you turn away.

But he holds your chin in his palm, the one that isn't holding your hand, and turns you to face him. "Y/N, I don't understand what I did wrong. Just please tell me, I'll do anything to make you happy."

"Why? Why do you want to make me happy? So that you can break my heart like you break everyone else's?" He looks shocked and the tears are now flowing desperately from your eyes.

"What are you even saying?"

"Hyunjin stop pretending... everyone knows that you just charm people and sleep around. Actually, it's not even your fault. I'm the idiot who knew all this and still let myself fall for you." You can feel your heart disintegrate and sincerely wish he'd let you go so that you can go hide in the comfort of your bed.

"What the fuck Y/N? Just 'cuz people say something doesn't make it true. I don't just go around flirting and sleeping with people." He's angry and you can hear it. You know he has the right to be but can't help your emotions. He is still holding your hand despite his anger, you note.

"Then where do you disappear off to every night? And why do you always show up in dishevelled clothes and messed up hair?" You sound stupid, now that the words are out of your mouth, but then no fool in love ever remains sane.

He sighs and throws his head back in frustration.

"You idiot. That- that's not because I'm fucking someone every night. It's- I go to.."

"To what Hyunjin?" Your patience is running low and he looks nervous.

He sighs. Letting your hand go, he opens the door to the storage room and turns the light on. It is an art studio, filled with paintings upon paintings. You turn to Hyunjin, more confused than before.

"This is my makeshift studio. A gallery owner has signed me on as the artist for their upcoming exhibition. I'm trying to get stuff done for that. It's next week. That's why I am always late to practice and why I look 'dishevelled'." He says quietly, with air quotes and a desperate tone in his voice.

"What?" To say you're surprised would be an understatement. You know he is an art major and that he paints, but all of this is new information. You look around the room once more, there are various kinds of paintings- places, flowers and even people.

"Yeah. I've been trying to show you my work for weeks now, that's why I keep asking to walk you back. I have always wanted to show you my work but didn't get the courage to talk to you personally till the practice." He looks nervous and his mouth forms into a pout. You just let out a laugh as more tears roll down your cheeks at the relief. "Why are you still crying?" He asks slowly as he wipes the tears away and you just laugh.

"So... you're not with someone else?"

He smiles now and shakes his head. "But I want to be..." Your eyes widen and the lump in your throat that was finally starting to dissolve comes back in full force. Seeing your face he starts to laugh.

He faces you, letting go of your hand to hold your face in both of his hands and leaning toward you. Your heart is beating in your chest.

"Dummy, it is you I like. Don't know how or when, but yeah..."

It appears that the act of having someone reciprocate our feelings can be perceived as rather endearing rather than embarrassing.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks slowly, his voice dangerously low.

"How are you so sure I like you back?"

He smirks at you and rolls his tongue in his inner cheek.

"Hmm... let's see how. You just acted like a crazy idiot for a week and told me it is because you thought I was fucking other people." Your face burns up in embarrassment as his smirk turns into a full smile. "Also, you get so extremely flustered every time I come close to you and your face is all red and cute, just like right now."

You close your eyes shut tight at his words, ready to combust.

"I didn't do a good job keeping my crush in control at all huh." You manage to say, slowly opening your eyes to see him smiling brightly.

"Absolutely not." The both of you laugh, he pulls your face closer and you hold onto his waist for balance. The lump of anxiety in your throat has turned into a plethora of butterflies.

"So can I kiss you or do you just want to keep staring at my lips like you do every time we dance."

"Oh shut up, Hyunjin."

He laughs and leans in but pulls back at the last minute. You let out a whine in protest.

"I- I just wanted to confirm, I like you and want to date you. Only you. Is that clear?" You just nod, breaking into a smile so big your jaw hurts.

"Also you might be the muse of my paintings."

"What? How many?"

He looks shy. "One?" You raise your eyebrows. "Okay, five."

"Hyunjin wha-"

You never get to finish the sentence as he takes your mouth in his and you've never loved rude interruptions before. Seems like wouldn't mind anything as long as you get to hold and be held by Hyunjin and dance with him through a thousand storms.

[cockslutpadalecki]

Second Time Around

Summary: After a brutal assault by one of your co-workers, you choose to turn your experience into a positive, eventually becoming an ambassador for other victims, and in turn, an unintentional household name. However the good Captain America doesn’t seem to take to your newfound fame very well.

Characters: Dark/Mean!Steve Rogers x Ex!Shield!Reader.

Words: 3K.

Warnings: non-con, mentions of previous sexual assault, mentions of previous date rape/drugging, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, size kink. MINORS DNI.

A/N: Been working on this for far too long and finally managed to finish it. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support your content creators by sharing our work.

Your prideful smile is reflected in the face of everyone in the audience. The crowds acceptance is contagious and you can’t smile wide enough.  

Another successful seminar completed. With every one you host around the state, your happiness grows, knowing that your words are having an impact. Your message is spreading like wildfire, but instead of burning everything in its path, empowerment blooms instead.  

The sound of applause is loud in your ears— thunderous and overwhelming, yet you find yourself not wanting to run from it. It brings you to tears, joyful ones that you have trouble holding back until you feel your assistant’s hand on the small of your back. 

“I have someone in your dressing room requesting a moment of your time,” she mutters softly into your ear.

You turn a little, trying to keep the smile on your face from dropping. You’re deeply grateful for every single person who shows up to these events, and you do your best to meet with as many of them as you can, but as you're booked for another talk that starts in less than an hour and two towns over, your time is stretched thin.

“I can’t, Allison,” you tell her gently. “We have to leave in ten minutes.” 

The other woman glances at her watch awkwardly before looking back at you, unease pulling at her features.

“Please pass on my apologies, but-” you begin, but Allison quickly interrupts.

“I’m sorry, but they told me they have to meet with you, and they won’t take no for an answer.” 

The message riles you up, instantly setting your nerves on edge. Isn’t that what these talks are about, setting boundaries, saying no? If whoever this person is knows the reason for you being in Brooklyn perhaps they should have chosen a better time and location for an impromptu meeting. Yet you find yourself, reluctantly, agreeing, just to keep the peace

-

You walk the short distance to your dressing room, determination and a shred of annoyance propelling you towards your mystery guest. You feel guilty for being irritated and you don’t understand why. Allison hurries along behind you, quickly answering your questions as you fire them at her over her shoulder. 

Did they give you a name?

Did they tell you what they want?

She tells you very little, unable to give you the answers you seek. All you know as you approach the door is that a man stands on the other side, waiting for you, his intention unclear. 

For a brief moment, you’re afraid it’s the damn movie producers again— determined to break you, whittle down your resolve into agreeing to turn your experience into a dramatization with very little fact. Something to twist the narrative and essentially make you the villain.

Bidding Allison your thanks at the door, you enter slowly, peeking around it. Your eyes land on a Herculean-sized figure— all broad shoulders and rippling muscles— and suddenly all of your previous fears rush from you like a waterfall. You know this figure, even from behind. 

“Steve?” Your voice is intentionally quiet because even though you’re sure it’s him, there’s still a part of you that questions your memory. 

He spins on the spot, lips split into a giant smile as he takes you in like you’re the first person of the opposite sex he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he replies with a heavy sigh. He steps towards you, arms outstretched as he envelopes you in a tight hug. It’s hard but warm. Comforting in a way you had forgotten exists. His smell reminds you of the past, but instead of allowing it to trigger unwanted memories, you inhale deeply— telling yourself that you’re better than being a victim, what happened to you doesn’t define who you are.

It’s what you preach to your audiences day in day out. 

Don’t let yourself become a victim.

“You’re a hard woman to pin down,” he smiles wide.

“Sure am now that I’m no longer stuck behind a desk,” you return with a little jest.

He gives you another of his best All American grins. All white and perfectly straight teeth. “I still walk past it daily. It’s not the same without you there.” 

You return his smile with ease, unsure of how to respond. Instead, you turn out, “What can I do for you?”

Steve shrugs. “Ah, well I thought that seeing as you’re in my hometown, we could go out for dinner? Haven’t seen you in a long time.” 

“Can’t say I wanna stay here longer than I’m needed to these days.” The reason lingers in the room, unspoken. Not since it happened. Steve flashes you a sympathetic look and that inexplicable sense of guilt returns. “But one dinner with the Captain can’t hurt.”

-

Hours pass by in a blur of decadent food and conversation. You’re ready to head back to the hotel when you leave the restaurant, but Steve doesn’t want to end the night so soon, insisting you join him back at his apartment for one last drink. Neither of you know how long it will be before you cross paths again and though he probably doesn’t mean to, he makes you feel a little guilty that it’s been so long. 

The kindness in his eyes stops you from saying no. 

You barely check your phone all night— too caught up in conversation and recounting lost memories, until Steve excuses himself to go to the bathroom. During the time alone, you find yourself mindlessly checking it while you wait for him to come back. Your screen is flooded with notifications— the usual messages from Allison, “just checking in x,” along with tweets and mentions praising your seminar.

But one particular tweet, “Cap looks absolutely ready to murder someone,” catches your eye, and before you know it, you’re clicking the link, your curiosity piqued, wondering what on Earth it can be about. 

Though he often neutralizes bad guys, he’s rarely called a murderer. Steve and murder don’t go into the same sentence often, if ever.

You stare down at the video that begins to play— catching sight of yourself talking animatedly on stage, your hands flying around in all directions. Your hair looks a little neater and the flowing dress you’re still wearing is a little less creased than it is now after a whole day rushing around Brooklyn. 

“There are times when I do miss working at S.H.I.E.L.D, yes,” you listen to yourself admit through the speakers of your phone. “If only for the friendships I made and unfortunately lost. But I know now that that wasn’t where I was meant to be, so I guess I should be thanking him.” Your scoffs bring you back to the moment, and you finally look up, realising Steve has returned to sit beside you.

The audience on the video laughs, but there’s an awkwardness to it. Like they shouldn’t find your experience funny, but because you’re making it so, they feel like they have permission to do the same. Giving Steve a cursory glance, you don’t miss the way his face drops at your poor joke and immediately you feel guilty. 

Guilty? For trying to make light of your past? Trying not to let it represent you? 

You swallow hard. You’ve skirted around the issue all evening, not wanting to dampen the fun you’ve been having. It feels ridiculous when you think about it— being so reluctant to bring up your experience with him when you find it so easy to be candid with strangers in regards to it. 

Maybe it’s because of that very reason. They’re strangers. They didn’t witness you leave with the man who assaulted you. They didn’t help to get him arrested and convicted for his crime. 

Steve did. Steve is closer to the harsh details of that night than anyone— apart from you. And your rapist. 

Another question quickly pulls your attention back down to the screen.

“You’d really do that?” 

“I get to see more of the world than I did before, so,” you watch yourself shrug as someone else pipes up. 

“If you came face to face with your attacker now, what would you say to him?” 

The video pans to the back of the room— a quick blur of color as it passes by the audience, and focuses on Steve standing by the door. You almost recoil in shock at the sight of him, not realising he had been there at the time. Still watching, you look at on-screen Steve as he stares down at the floor, listening to you speak.

It surprises even you how quickly you don’t hesitate. “I hated you for so long, but now I just pity you for being such a coward.”

Steve’s eyes flicker up at that moment, his jaw taut in fury. 

The clip ends and you look towards him, eyes inexplicably full of tears. 

“You look so angry,” you observe quietly. 

“I was,” he pauses, seemingly like he’s trying to calm himself down. “I loathe being called a coward,” he finally says. His tone seems off suddenly. Like he’s annoyed somehow at you.

“Pardon?” Your brow furrows in confusion, the uncomfortable silence lingers for a moment, baffled by Steve’s change in attitude. He’s not making any sense. Nor does he elaborate.

“Your parents must be so proud of you,” he adds tersely. 

It’s a strange statement. One that immediately sends a wave of ice through your body. You take another sip of your drink, licking a drop from your lip, and they tingle as if going numb. You haven’t drunk that much. 

“Yes, I suppose they are,” you affirm, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “In a roundabout sort of way.” 

“Strange thing to be proud of,” he smirks, huffing out a puff of air through his nose. “Their little girl famous just for getting her legs spread.”

You stare at Steve, the words swirling around in your brain, not making any sense. Maybe you have had too much to drink. But did he just- 

“Ex-excuse me?” you manage to stutter out.

���C’mon, you did look pretty slutty for a work party,” he says, rising to his feet. “That tiny little dress you were wearing was practically inviting us all to fuck you.”

You sit aghast, too revulsed to move from your seat. 

“No wonder we thought you wanted it. Especially when you let Mike take you home.” Steve shakes his head. 

“I- didn’t,” you try to defend. 

He tuts in disgust. “I saw it, sweetheart. Saw him climb into that cab with you. Saw how much you were all over him.”

“N-no, that’s not true.”

“But of course, when you realised that he would tell everyone what a little whore you are, you just had to cry rape, didn’t you?” 

Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you protest, “Wh-why are you saying this?”

He slowly moves closer, bending over in front of you until his face is inches from yours. “Because it’s the truth.” 

You shake your head furiously. Your head fuzzy with the turn of events. “It-it’s not.”

“You believed what I told you,” he says, matter of fact. “You were unconscious, how do you really know that it was Mike that fucked you?”

The fact he uses the term fucked instead of raped makes your stomach roll with nausea. Fucked would imply you had given consent. 

“But you-you saw us,” you stumble out. 

Steve laughs bemused, like this is all a joke to him. “Mike did take you home that night, he did put you to bed, but he didn’t fuck you.” 

There it is again. Fuck. Not rape. 

You think you’re going to be sick as one solitary question crosses your mind. If Mike didn’t attack you, then who did? Another thought hurriedly strays past, replacing the first. What if Steve is covering for the real person responsible? 

He straightens up, hand reaching out to cup your jaw. With gentle coercion, he lifts your chin, smiling down at you when you finally make eye contact. His usual warm sapphire gaze is cold. Hard like ice. 

“Y’know, you should be grateful. I’m the one who made you famous.”

The revelation hits you like a freight train and everything suddenly seems to make sense. 

He doesn’t need to say it out loud. 

He’s not covering for anybody but himself. 

Abject horror fills you at the frightening realization that there’s an innocent man rotting in prison because of Steve. Mike did nothing except make sure you got home safe, and Steve took advantage of that opportunity to frame him for his own heinous crime. The perfect crime.

You’re frozen in place, too afraid to move as he smears his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“All those rousing speeches you make, all those uplifting messages for your fans, and you’ve got nothing for me, huh?”

“Fuck you,” you manage to spit out with venom. 

Steve’s demeanour sours in an instant. His smile drops into a foul grimace, full of contempt and hatred. His hold on your chin tightens and tightens until you can feel the bones in your jaw protesting beneath the weight of his grip. Just this action alone is enough to make you realise that with one small twitch of his hand, he can easily break you.

His breath is hot on your cheek as he leans down, hissing in your face, “You should be fuckin’ thankin’ me.” 

He snaps, grabbing you around the waist and hoists you off the chair in one fluid motion. You kick and hit out as he lifts you into the air, dumping you onto his shoulder like you weigh absolutely nothing.  

You scream and yell, but Steve makes no attempt to silence you as he carries you into his bedroom. He throws you down onto the bed, quickly covering your body with his as you continue to hit him, but they just bounce off his biceps and chest without even so much as a flinch. 

“Stop, please,” you beg when he roughly pushes up your dress. The plea falls on deaf ears, Steve already working open his pants as he tears your underwear in two. 

He stares between your spread legs as he lines himself up to your opening— his cockhead hot and sticky against your pussy lips. Steve’s eyes flicker to you, watching your mouth drop open and your eyes squeeze shut as he sinks into you, the sheer girth of him punching all the air from your lungs. He doesn’t fit past the first inch. 

“C’mon, let me in,” he breathes above you, stroking his thumb over your clit. A whine escapes from your throat and he manages another inch— just. 

“It’s a shame you don’t remember anything from before. My fault, I guess, gave you too much ketamine,” Steve shrugs nonchalantly. “But I spent hours worshiping you,” he softly adds. “Eating out your delicious cunt, making you come all over my tongue.”

He pulls out, and you let go of the breath you don’t realise you’ve been holding in. He shimmies down the bed, face level with your pussy and looks up at you once more. His tongue darts out just as you lift your leg to knee him in the head, but Steve’s faster. He licks up your sex and all of your motor functions cease to work. Your leg falls to the bed useless, and he curls his arms around your thighs, pinning you in place. 

Steve gets to work, licking and kissing his way up and down your sex while you lay beneath him— body reacting to every precise touch as your mind revolts at the sensation. He slides in a finger, then two— both perfectly crooked inside you as his tongue flicks over your clit and you’re coming whether you like it or not. 

You’re still trembling when he climbs up, smoothing his cock through your soaked lips. Steve doesn’t miss the way your entire body jolts when he rubs it across your clit, and he grins down at you with a smile that used to make you feel safe. 

Now it just terrifies you. 

“See, your body remembers me, even if you don’t,” he cajoles, teasing his cock against the entrance to your cunt. “And I think she’s wet enough that I can just slide straight in.” 

Steve drives his hips forward. He pops inside you with no resistance, easing into you inch by inch until you can feel him heavy and swollen in your gut. 

Your back arches, and your hips cant towards him, forcing him deeper. 

“That’s it,” he praises, wrapping his hands around your hips to keep you impaled on his cock. “Look at you takin’ me nice and deep.”

He pulls out slowly, but he’s even slower sliding back inside you. His eyes don’t leave yours, watching the way your face contorts and shifts as he fills you up.

“I didn’t get to enjoy this look of pleasure on your face last time, now at least I get to savour it.”

He starts to fuck you— rapidly building to a pace that has you sinking into the mattress with each deep thrust. It’s not meant to be pleasurable, but the pain slowly fizzles away until all you can feel is heat.

The coil in your gut tightens— aching, straining to snap and you try to block out the sensation. It does nothing and you come around Steve like you actually want it, body jolting and tensing as ripples of ecstasy possess you.

You try to block out his staccato praise and heavy moans, but the more you attempt to focus elsewhere— the less you’re able. The sounds Steve makes, the touches of his fingers on your skin, the feel of his cock brutalizing you— it’s a horrible, pornographic concoction that you can’t escape and the inevitable sobs come.

Tears run into your hairline and pool in your ears as Steve claims you over and over— one deep, guttural thrust at a time. Disgust hurriedly replaces the dull pleasure still swirling in your gut, violation thick as all you can do is take everything he gives you.

You recovered from the trauma before, able to move on, evolve into the person you are now. Stronger for your experience. But as you stare up into the eyes of your true nightmare, you’re not sure you’re going to be able to overcome it a second time.

***

CE: @buckymydarlingangel @broadwaybabe18 @captain-asguard @chamberofsloths @cevansgurl @dreamlessinparis @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @kellhems @ladybug05 @mugi-chwan95 @navybrat817 @otomefromtheheart @oneoftheprettynerds @patzammit @rebel-stardust @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @sammykb1994 @syrenavenger @saiyanprincessswanie @sunwardsss @selfsun @threeminutesoflife @vicmc624 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wintasssoldier @xoxonotme

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[holylulusworld]

Jerk next door (6) - Two new players

Summary: You move in next door to a jerk after a bad breakup.

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Characters: Destroyer!Chris, Captain Syverson

Warnings: angst, mentions of past domestic violence (implied), mentions of divorce, mentions of past physical abuse, scared reader, mentions of past alcohol abuse, rueful Andy, mentions of murder

A/N: It's been a while, huh.

Jerk next door masterlist 

<< Jerk next door (5)

“No,” you violently shake your head. “I won’t set foot into his house. Let Quentin come and kill me. It’s better than being under the care of this man.” 

“Miss,” Chris sighs. He’s fucking tired of taking care of other people’s problems. “I’m tired, my head hurts like hell and I haven’t slept for a week. Please give me a break.”

“Oh,” considering his words you look at the stranger in your house again. He looks tired and sick. “Wait, have a seat. Do you want some water? I got not much food left, but I can make you a sandwich.”

“I came here for a reason, miss.”

“Y/N,” you offer a weak smile. “I’m sorry for barking at you. It’s his fault, not yours. You only try to help me.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs and takes the offered seat in your kitchen. “I get that you are mad at Barber. He’s a handful.”

“So, uh-Mr…” you furrow your brow. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Just Chris,” he takes the glass of water you placed on the table and chugs it down. “I’m sorry too. It was a rough month…or rather year.”

Chris closes his eyes for a moment and sighs deeply.

“Maybe you should stay out of this shitshow. I already packed the most important things. I’ll try to start anew somewhere else.”

“He will follow you everywhere you go, miss,” Chris opens his eyes. His blue eyes hold your gaze as you try to find a way to keep him out of your problems. “Quentin Beck is the kind of bastard not letting go. He doesn’t love you but won’t let you live your life without him.”

“He will kill me,” you whisper. “Quentin told me so when I finally found the strength to file for divorce. I embarrassed him by revealing what he did to me. Though, no one was there to help me. They all turned a blind eye to my injuries and his behavior.”

“No man should put their hands on a woman,” Chris sneers. “I will make sure he’ll never get close to you, Y/N.”

“Quentin won’t give up.”

“Let him come,” Chris gets up from his chair because you’re rubbing your arms and your teeth chatter. “You’re freezing.”

“I-I’m scared, is all,” you reply. 

“No. You’re cold,” he shrugs his jacket off and puts it around your shoulders. “You need to calm down. I know Andy was a jerk, but he’s our only chance to keep you safe.”

“I don’t want to hide at his place,” you sniffle. “He’s as bad as my ex-husband.”

“Andy would never hurt a woman,” Chris softly speaks to you. “Laurie got him good. She broke something inside of him. Jerk or not, he will do anything to keep you safe.”

“Promised?” You look up at Chris.

“Promised.”

“Bedroom, bathroom,” Andy nervously points at the bed in his bedroom. “I’ll take the guestroom. This one is bigger.”

“This is ridiculous,” you huff and cross your arms over your chest. “If only you left me alone. I didn’t do anything wrong to make you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, sweets,” he sighs and runs one hand down his face. Andy is fucking tired too. “Please let me at least try to make things up to you.”

“You put me in harm's line!” You throw your hands up. “I finally found a peaceful place and you had to ruin it for me. Even if he believes I left town, Beck will come back. If he sinks his teeth in your flesh, you are his next meal.”

Andy smirks. “Let him come. I’m not the tame and friendly lawyer if you fuck with me.” He cocks his head and watches you sit on his bed. Andy clears his throat and softens his voice. “I changed the sheets, and in the bathroom are fresh towels. I brought all your clothes into the walk-in wardrobe. It’s right through that door.”

Andy points at the door next to the bathroom.

“You can put them on the left side. It’s…empty,” he shrugs when you watch him with curiosity. “A habit.” He adds. “My ex-wife used to occupy the left side. I kinda never changed that. It’s empty since I moved in here.”

“I did the opposite,” you admit. “Quentin used the left side, and I put the silliest things on his side.” You grin. “He would so hate it.”

“Hmm…” Andy nods thoughtfully. “We removed any trace you lived at your house. A friend of mine will take your place. I had an emergency meeting with all the neighbors. They know about you, and Beck. Doris and Peter offered to have an eye on the house.”

“You make it sound so easily,” you wipe your wet eyes. “I used my real name, Andy. Sooner than later Quentin will find my employer, and I’m done for. He will come when I least expect it and…”

You look away. 

“He won’t,” Andy suddenly stands in front of the bed. “I don’t give a shit that he’s a cop. I’m an attorney lawyer, Chris is an ex-cop, and—” 

“And I was the leader of a special forces unit,” another man casually walks inside Andy’s bedroom. “Hello, sugar. Andy told me so much about you.”

“Hi,” you choke the word out, unable to think while crowded by the two of them.

The man holds out his hand. “Oh, she’s shy,” he hums and steps closer to look down at you. He looks even bigger than Andy and Chris. His blue eyes are soft, but his large hand promises more than a friendly handshake if you mess with him. “Captain Syverson, or Sy to you.“

„Hi,“ you squeak as he grabs your hand to shake it. His grip is firm, but you know, this is only a fraction of his strength. “I’m Y/N.”

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” he smirks, still holding your hand. “Andy told me so much about you, but forgot to tell me that you are the sweetest dame I ever laid eyes on.”

“Sy, can you just not?” Chris joins the party. He immediately glares at Syverson, not liking said man is still holding your hand. “We have a lot on our plate. Quentin Beck is sniffing around town. We got to stop him.”

“Let me break his neck then,” Sy grumbles. “Problem solved.”

“We are talking about murder in that case,” Andy ever the lawyer retorts. “We can’t just kill him, okay. All we have to do is convince him that Y/N left town.”

“All we gotta do is rip him a new one,” Chris bites back. “That piece of shit deserves to be punished for the crimes he committed. He’s hiding behind his badge.”

“I did a background check of Mr. Wonderful,” Syverson draws your attention back toward him, and away from Chris. “Y/N wasn’t the first woman he has hurt. Three of his former girlfriends reported him to the police.”

“Let me guess, the reports disappeared,” Chris makes a face. “I told you, he’s a piece of shit and had it coming for a long time.”

“Chris, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we can’t run around and kill random people. Bastard or not,” Andy stops the two men from conspiring. Both are skilled and undoubtedly able to take Quentin down. “We need to do this the right way.”

“Well, no shit Sherlock,” Syverson grunts. “The other women tried to do it the right way. No one helped them. The reports disappeared, and his colleagues made sure that they didn’t try to file another report.”

Andy scowls at Syverson. “I get it. He’s not a sweetheart and we are on our own. Let’s make sure he’ll never hurt a woman without killing him then.”

You rock back and forth while the men decide on your ex-husband’s fate.

Whatever is going to happen, you are too weak to stop them or Quentin…

Tags in reblog.

[socialfakes]

the devils in the details- luke hughes

chapter 4; part 1: best friends forever

nhl x platonic!fem!reader

eventual luke hughes x fem!reader

the masterlist

Liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06, colecaufield and 3,917 others

yourinstagram | when my best friend smiles, every bad thing in my life is immediately okay again ❤😊

view all comments

jackhughes look at that smile. wanna know his secret?  | yourinstagram yes always 😏  | lhughes_06 no jack  | jackhughes he thinks of you and it’s instantaneous 😊  | yourinstagram awe pookie 🥰  | lhughes_06 that’s a big word jack. congrats 👍🏻

nicohischier he’s so happy all the time. i wonder why 😊  | yourinstagram well he’s got a really great captain 😏  | nicohischier no he’s got you & that’s plenty of reason to always be happy 😊❤

user02 someday i hope to have a good relationship with an ex and hope he has just as good of a relationship with my current boyfriend 😊

jackhughes so happy it makes me sick 🤮  | yourinstagram hater 😆

_quinnhughes our pookie being happy > everything  | yourinstagram straight facts

elblue6 aw my precious baby boy ❤

user12 he’s just too cute 😊

user07 the most perfect human being 💕

lhughes_06 ❤

Liked by jackhughes, nicohischier, bboeser and 3,917 others

yourinstagram | glam and grey ✨

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user04 can’t decide what’s more gorgeous; your face or the dress 🤔  | lhughes_06 her face. easiest decision of my life 😊

bboeser please cover up 🙈  | _quinnhughes i agree, although you do look really beautiful 😊  | bboeser i agree 😏 baby hughes sure knows how to pull ‘em 😉

lhughes_06 my best friend is prettier than anyone else i've ever seen 😍  | nicohischier agreed!

user09 gorgeous ❤

user12 luke is one lucky dude 😉  | yourinstagram no idea what you’re talking about 🤷🏻‍♀️

user06 how did nico and luke get someone like you? you're stunning 😍  | yourinstagram nico knows how to treat a woman 👌🏻 and luke is cute af ❤  | user06 lucky boys 😏  | yourinstagram awe i love you ❤

_quinnhughes did you do your makeup just to stay home again?  | yourinstagram that’s the plan, quintin 😊

jackhughes umm…👀😍

trevorzegras you’re showing more skin here than you do at the beach. you better not be leaving in that outfit 😂  | yourinstagram i shall do what i please. there ain’t no stopping me 😉  | lhughes_06 if you plan to leave, let me know 👍🏻  | yourinstagram guys i think luke wants to be my date for the evening 😏

taglist: @worldlxvlys @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @callsignwidow

[elise-51-blog]

Gary Neville is a REF

So inspired by this. Working on a WIP, another which may it see the light of day someday. An AU where Gary gets kicked out the the United youth academy and becomes a referee instead. Carra has his Liverpool career.

[[Absolutely inspired by this marvelous fic here as well, where both of them became refs instead of footballers, please give it love: PLAY THE WHISTLE by saltstreets ]] credit: @zevons

Snippet of my WIP here.....

-----------------------------------------------

“It’s a fuckin’ shambles, Gaz.”

Gary should’ve known better than to answer his phone. It’s a beautiful day for football. Which has fuck all to do with Gary. Gary’s on holiday. At home maybe, but it still counts. He’d even had a lie-in ‘til nearly half seven.

He doesn’t, won’t, can’t hold back a weary sigh, soul-deep. He’s got a headache already. Worse, he already knows he won’t say no in the end.

Still.

“I can’t fuckin’ do it, Stuart. I’m on holiday.”

“What, in fuckin’ Bury?”

“How d’you know I’m still in Bury? Maybe I’m in Ibiza!”

“Fuck you are, you boring cunt. You’ve probably been in the back garden, tellin’ the daisies which way to grow.”

“Fuck off.” They both laugh, it’s fucking true innit.

“Fuck me.” He can’t do it. He will do it.

“Already got me lad on the way, son. He’ll scoop you up, you’ll be on the pitch in thirty. Lovely day for it.”

“They’ll not go for it, Stu.” For fucking obvious reasons. “Raffa won’t, anyways.”

“Already had it out with ‘em, you mong, ‘course I have. Sir Alex and Raffa are well up for it. Talked you up, didn’t I? No one I’d trust to do the job right. Sterling lad, absolutely professional he is, our Gary Neville, no one else for it.”

“No one else stupid enough to take it on, you mean.”

“Right you are, son!”

Stuart laughs some more at Gary’s pain. It’s a thing they do. “It don’t hurt you’re a short taxi ride away, either.”

“This is mad, this is.” Gary shakes his head. “If the scousers even let me off the pitch in one piece, I’m gonna get absolutely killed by the fans, no matter the result. Both sides, probably.”

“Yeah. But you’ll be golden in my books, Nev, don’t you worry about that.”

Gary feels a bit sick. “This is me fucked, you understand that, right?”

“Listen,” Stuart actually sounds worryingly sincere. “I wouldn’t ask it if we didn’t need you, Gaz. Really. I know it’s unorthodox, but I’ve made everything absolutely crystal with the managers. The press is being made aware. It’s the wrong time of year for a re-play, innit. Everyone wants to play today. I’ll protect you, lad, I swear it. It’ll be alright.”

He can see it now: Ex-Academy Player Officiates Derby Match, Ripped to Pieces By Former Teammates and Blood-Thirsty Scousers Alike!!

Gary tries to grasp at anything to make the situation better in his mind. “It’ll be Keane and Gerrard to captain, I assume?”

There’s a suspicious pause. Stuart sounds mildly apologetic. 

“Err, well. Gerrard’s out today, actually, knee’s acting up again. It’ll be Carragher in his place.”

Oh, well, fuck Gary Neville then. Just fuck him all day long.

“Oh, well, that’s more good news then, Stuart. The only moderately sane man in Liverpool is out on injury, in his stead an Actual Fucking Lunatic.” He is absolutely insane is Carragher. “Between him and Keane, it’s gonna be sunshine and fucking daisies. I can’t wait to be spoken to with nothing but dignity and respect for ninety minutes.”

Suddenly, Gary hears the desperate honks of a car horn idling impatiently just outside the kitchen window. Stuart must hear it over the phone, he sounds absolutely elated to ring off.

“That’ll be our Dave, then. Off you go, Gaz, that’s a good lad! Don’t forget your whistle, you’re gonna need it today, sure!”

Christ.

It’s gonna be a fuckin’ shambles.

[abbatoirablaze]

Behind Closed Doors, Chapter 14

Word Count:  1.4k

Warnings:  slight angst.

“Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll be there!”

Johnny smiled and said okay, as he ran away from the laptop to tell Shayla that Chris had agreed to come to their kindergarten’s career day.  But you were frowning at him.  He was quick to notice your look and he leaned in towards the camera, “I know that look (Y/N)…so get on with it already, and just say what’s on your mind.”

“You shouldn’t be promising Johnny these types of things, Chris and you know it,” you sighed as you rubbed your temples, “you didn’t show up for their birthday last year when you promised him that you would, and now you think you can just win him over by showing up as Captain America for a bunch of kindergartners?”

“You told him to ask me, (Y/N),” he grumbled, “you allowed him to call me and ask.  You encouraged it.  If I knew you were going to get on me about my past mistakes with the twins, I would have just-”

“Because you are his father,” you reminded your ex as you cut him off, “Johnny still wants a relationship with you despite all the times you’ve scared him and Shayla or let them down.  He idolizes you, Chris.”

“I’m trying to be better, (Y/N),” he muttered softly, “I-I can’t apologize for all the shit that’s happened and change it, but I can keep trying to be a better father to them than I was the day before, can’t I?”

“It only counts as trying if you actually follow through with any of your promises, Chris,” you muttered, “one of these days he’s going to see you letting him down and that’s going to be the final straw.  He’s going to ignore you, like Shayla does.  And I won’t be in your corner, telling him to give you yet another chance, Chris.”

“Why are you acting like this?” he asked, “you push Johnny to call me and when things are going alright, you step in and make me feel like shit.  Do you know how difficult it makes all of this?  Do you even care how hard this all is on me?”

“Why do you keep cancelling on him last minute?” you asked, “you give me a good, honest-to-god reason, Chris.  And don’t say ‘it just happened,’ like you always do.  Sebastian always makes time for the kids.  They don’t even have to ask.  They know he’ll be there for them.  But you-“

You watched as his jaw clenched, “I told him I’d be there.  And I meant it.  I’ll be there for him and Shayla.”

“God, I hope so, Chris.”

“I will.” He growled, before ending the call.

“Alright, who’s next?”

You frowned when you saw Johnny peeping his head above the rest of his classmates from the back of the room.  You were on the PTA and had been in the classroom for the better half of the morning to help with snacks and to help set up some of the mini projects that some of the parents brought in for the kids as part of their demonstrations, but you’d failed to see Chris amongst the rest of the parents.

And you’d known why.

“Something came up.”

“Oh, I bet,” you growled into your phone, “I got the alert, Chris.  Is that the infamous Minka I saw in the corner of the picture, holding onto your hand like some lost puppy?”  

“Oh, come on, (Y/N),” he huffed into the phone, “you’re not really paying attention to that tabloid bullshit, are you?  I-“

“Our son is expecting you to show up in his classroom later today as Captain America!  A promise which you made to him,” you growled, pointing out and using his own words against him. Your eyes fixating on the door to the school where another one of the moms was waiting for you.  You held a finger up to show another one of the moms that you’d be in to help in a second, and you pointed at your phone.  She gave a nod of understanding and went back inside.  All of them knew how much it was like pulling teeth when it came to the very strained relationship with your twins’ father, “Christopher Robert Evans, you tell me right now and you be fucking honest with me.  Are you even in the states, or are you still in Europe with her?”

There was silence on his side of the line.

“Christopher…”

“I couldn’t get a flight out in time after I missed the last one!” he muttered.

“Did you miss it because of her?”

More silence.

“I can’t believe you,” you hissed across the line, “I can’t fucking believe you.  You promised him, Chris.  You promised Johnny that you would be here for him.  This is like every other time you’ve ever promised-”

“Baby, come on-“

“Don’t baby me,” you growled, “I’m not your baby, Christopher.”

“(Y/N),” he tried sadly, “I wanted to be there.  I did.  But-“

“Oh, fuck off, Chris!”

“I wanna go next!”

You were shocked to hear your little girl’s voice. 

But Shayla was all but jumping out of her chair as she raised her hand, “I wanna go next!”

“Shayla?” the teacher asked, before looking at you. 

Your lips parted and she got up from her seat, running to the door. 

“Daddy, come on!” she giggled, pulling him in. 

You gasped, seeing your husband in his full Bucky Barnes costume.  Disbelief coated your features as a few other parents started muttering to one another.

“This is my daddy!” Shayla exclaimed proudly, “he’s a superhero!”

“Who’s he?” one of the boys asked, turning to Johnny.

“That’s not Captain America!” another boy muttered, “Johnny said his daddy is Captain America!”

Sebastian removed the mask and handed it to Shayla, “actually, I’m an actor, and this, is one of the characters I play.  His name is Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier.”

“I thought Johnny and Shayla’s daddy was Captain America!” one of the boys piped up. 

“This is my daddy!” Shayla said once more, “he’s not an Avenger! He’s better!  Tell them daddy!  Bucky’s better!”

“Now, now,” he chuckled softly, “I wouldn’t say that I’m better than the Avengers…but, since they were all busy, they did send me with some stuff to let you guys know that they think your class is full of superheroes just like them.” 

“Daddy show them what you brought!” Shayla squealed, tugging on his tactical pants.  He smiled and went back to the door before opening it once again.  A few of the other members of the PTA came in with some carts full of stuff. 

There was Hulk gloves, Captain America shields, Iron Man helmets, and Thor Hammers.  You gasped when your daughter picked up the stack of pictures, and began handing them out to her classmates.   Sebastian quickly shot you a wink. 

“Now, we brought enough so that each of you could have a few of these toys…but you have to wait to come up until your teacher calls your table!  Got it?”  Sebastian asked. 

The kids chorused as the teacher started calling the first table.  The first group of four squealed excitedly as they ran for the cart and started picking up the toys. 

“Does anybody have any questions for me?”

“Is that your real arm?” a little boy asked, pointing to the metallic looking arm. 

Sebastian chuckled and shook his head, “it’s not.  It’s a prop for the movie.  My real arm is under it though, so I can move it however I need to.  This is more like a glove.”

“Are you a superhero like the Avengers?”

“Something like that!” he shrugged, “I help the Avengers…sort of.”

A few more kids asked some questions, before ultimately it died down.  The class gave him a round of applause as he started towards the back of the room.  When he met up with you, he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“H-how did you-“

“I called in a few favors yesterday when I saw that Chris had missed his flight and he stopped answering your texts,” he admitted, “a few of the others are in town for NYC’s comic con this week, but for the others they overnighted some pictures with signatures…and as for the toys…thank the Russos.”

“God you’re amazing,” you sighed against his chest, “how am I so lucky?”

“Lucky, hmm?” he teased playfully, gently nipping at your neck, “how lucky do you think I could be for saving the day?”

“Lucky enough that when we get home, I’m going to show you how a superhero gets thanked!” you giggled against him. 

“Ohh, I like the sound of that, Mrs. Stan.”

Chapter 15

[sunwarmed-ash]

Thank You For Your Patience!! (Sinful Sunday Post)

As a thank you for being patient and sweet while I sorted my life out, I'm gonna post 4 lil Sinful Sunday snippets today! These will NOT be posted to ao3 until their debut! Get em while they're hot

Part 1: Brothers- Hankconvin, Elijah & Gavin

Chapter 3 Preview: 👀

“Mandatory ANGER MANAGEMENT meetings? You’re fucking KIDDING right?!”

“Not really helping your CASE here HANK,” Fowler exclaims, frustration of his own close to boiling over. 

“Jeffery what the fuck’s going on huh? Did I piss you off or something? Why are you taking his side? You haven't even heard what I have to say!”

“You punched a subordinate officer Hank!”

Which, is true, but-

“I punched an asshole who was shit-talking an ex-employee on the clock! What happened to due process huh? There were two other people in that room! If you wanted the real story you could have asked either of them!”

“Detective Reed and Officer Chen were in the room,” Fowler scoffs dismissively. “Do you really think either of them can be considered bipartisan witnesses?”

Hank can feel the vein that rests between his forehead about to explode. This can’t really be happening right? Did he slip on the ice out front and knock himself unconscious just to wake up in Bizzaro World? 

“What happened with Reynolds’ android case at the Eden club?” 

Hank doesn't know why his instinct demands that as the first line of questioning, but it proves, as always, to be the right one, because Jeff's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. 

“...What case at the Eden club?”

Hank scoffs, his bad feeling only compounding with that verbal confirmation. 

“This is exactly what I’m talking about Jeff! Something’s not right! And this won't be the end of it, mark my words.”

“Anderson,” Jeff starts, but Hank interrupts, because he needs to be damn sure the Captain hears him this time. 

“And if you won’t help me, a lot more people are gonna get hurt.”

“Hank…” Jeff sighs, frustration clear. But under all that bureaucratic red tape, there's desperation, for Hank to understand why his hands are tied. “There’s nothing I can do.” 

“Why are you protecting him, huh,” Hank asks before channeling every bit of his intimidation into his body language and slapping his hands onto the man's desk. Its the only way to keep a bullpen of nosy on lookers from suspecting his next words “Does he have something on you?”

The way Jeff went hauntingly quiet, even for a millisecond before years of police and miliatry training took over and hardened off his features, Hank knew then there was something really fucked up about all of this. “Alright Jeff,” Hank exhales, pushing off the desk. “I’ll play along. But if you can’t be helpful, at least stay out of our way.”

Bullpen

Hank comes flying out of the Captain's office in a fit of rage which can only really means more bad news. Gavin’s already standing, intent to follow because he knows that stride pattern. They are leaving, where, he doesn't know yet, but Gavin knows he’s expected to follow.

“Yeah that’s right bitch, run after Daddy,” Reynolds jeers into his mug, gaining laughs from the two other piss poor uses of tax payer money, Officers O’Malley and Corporal Jordan.

Gavin ignores him, for the sole reason there are too many witnesses present for him to get away with shooting the man’s smirk off his face. Hank’s body language screams the talk with Fowler didn't go as hoped so plan B is about to be put into affect.   

---

“Hey, you okay,” Gavin asks the second they are both in the safety of Hank’s car. 

“No,” Hank exhales, opening the glove box and pulling out the emergency pack of cigarettes he kept refilled for Gavin. He takes two out before handing one to Reed. “Something big's going on Gav.”

“What did Fowler say,” Gavin asked, pulling out his lighter and lighting Hank’s cigarette. 

Hank takes two full drags before answering. 

“Unless we get hard evidence, we’re on our own.”

“Phcking asshole,” Gavin frowns before shoving his own cigarette between his lips. 

Hank shakes his head. 

“Reynolds’ got something on him too.”

Gavin’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. 

“He say that to you?”

“He couldn't say that to me.”

“What the phck is happening in the world?”

“I don’t know,” Hank sighs, “but we can’t tell anyone else about this.”

An uneasy feeling begins to build in his gut when Gavin clarifies, 

“Not even Connor?”

Hank crushes out his half-smoked cigarette before starting up the car. 

“I don't know yet...”

“We’re going to need help Hank. From someone with access to our resources but not employed at the DPD. More importantly, it's gotta be someone we can trust.”

Hank looks like he might be considering it, before a nasty frown stains his face.  

“What if it puts him in danger?”

Gavin is sure it will. Taking care of Reynolds behind the department's back will put a target on all of them. But, 

“I think even Connor would agree more information makes him better at his job.”

“Alright,” Hank exhales heavily as he turns out of the parking lot. "Alright...”

ao3 kofi insta

Read the other 3 here!

[elvesandlanterns]

Captain marvels strange little family

Chapter 3

Deep deep deeeeeeep breath. In and out. “Okay,” Billy finally managed to sigh out, “Let me get this straight.” In and out. In and out. “You’re an ex-villain who cloned a /teenage/ hero who is now king of another dimension.” Breath. “For whatever reason this clone YOURE goddaughter is destabilizing!

A-g-a-i-n And your first idea was to build an underground lair in our house to find a cure?” In and out. “I got that so far. Nod if i got that so far.” Breath. “And and and all three of you are /half/ dead. Making you a half ghost called a halfa is that all?”

Vlad stopped his nodding to glance off to the side, “Thats the majority of it yes but well…”

In and out Billy reminded himself to breathe, it cant possibly be that bad.

“Well technically theres four of us.”

Okay that not that bad-

“He’s my… son …from the future…..”

A series of banging sounds could be heard from upstairs as well as shattering glass from assumably their nice plates and the voice of a man spouting expletives. Breath in.

“And he’s coming to stay with us….” Vlad chuckled humorously, “Surprise???”

The breathing exercises are suddenly not enough.

- - -

Dan looks like them. This… stranger looks like them. Except Dans not the stranger here Billy is. And it would be enough to make Billy uneasy, to make him run off instead of being a burden. But despite Vlads loving placating demeanor, Dan sits on the couch body turned towards the window in distaste. A clear dismissive sign if he’s ever seen one in his years in foster homes, and how many years has it been? Three ? Twelve? Twenty? Wait. What?

Right, Dan clearly didn’t want to be here. Vlad by comparison looked as if they had gone back to the beginning of their arrangement. The beginning of their fights and beginning of their little awkward family. Of introducing him to Freddy and Darla. Of it just being the two of them. The inside of Billy’s mouth twisted, this was Vlad’s actual son and something told him those days were coming to a close. But if the way Dad turned to look for his approval as he set down a tray of pastries like he did every Saturday was any indication… then maybe Billy’s optimism wouldn’t be misplaced this time around.

Billy sipped his tea glancing at the halfas way as Dan outright growled at the plate of bread in front of him. Mocking Vlad’s baking skills, hurling taunts at the older mans head. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t take the bait.

Hook

Line

Sinker

Because of course Vlad had to say something back. Huhhhh in and out. Yeah Billy was probably not misplacing his trust this time around and eventually they might seven make a pretty good family. But…

Crash!

“That was a vintage piece!”

“Yeah and so are you old man!!”

A tart flew across the kids vision as the ghosties in the room began to float mid argument.

….But for now they still had a long way to go.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Fandom: 911 Lone Star Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes, Iris Blake, Nancy Gillian, Tommy Vega, Judd Ryder, Marjan Marwani, Paul Strickland, Mateo Chavez Summary: When the crew of the super yacht Firebug finds themselves in need of a new chef, stew Iris Blake is quick to provide them with a solution: her ex, Carlos Reyes. Second stew T.K. Strand is prepared to share his cabin with their new chef, but he is not prepared for how quickly Carlos Reyes heats things up in the galley. Will their boatmance set sail? Or will it sink to the bottom of the Caribbean Sea? A/N: I have loved Below Deck in all its iterations since the day it first aired, so as I was thinking about a fun summer fic, a yachting au came to mind. This is my first (technically, sort of, mostly *cough cough*) au, and it was a HUGE challenge. I'm not sure I've gotten every detail of yachting life correct, but hopefully it's close enough for a good time! Read on AO3

Chapter 1: On Top

“T.K., T.K. Nancy. What is your location?”

“Busted,” Mateo says from where he’s laid out, one arm thrown up over his eyes to block out the sun.

“What do you mean busted? My shit is cleaned and polished and ready for charter,” T.K. says, kicking him in the leg. “You’re the one who’s slacking off.”

He reaches for his radio without getting up from his reclined position in his lounger. “Nancy, Nancy, T.K. I’m on the sundeck.”

“Copy that. On my way.”

“You’d better leave before she gets here,” T.K. tells him. “She’ll rat you out to Judd.”

“Nah,” Mateo says, wiggling a little bit so he’s more comfortable. “I think she likes me.”

T.K. wrinkles his nose. “Doesn’t she have a girlfriend at home?”

“Maybe.” Mateo shrugs. “But the heart wants what it wants. And what happens on charter stays on charter.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works,” T.K. tells him. “Please don’t go having a boatmance with my chief stew. That’s going to make things all kinds of awkward when she dumps your ass.”

“Ain’t nobody gonna be dumping my ass,” Mateo says, clearly offended. “She’s gonna get one taste of the Chavez and—“

“I would’t finish that sentence if I were you,” Nancy says as she strides onto the sundeck, clipboard in hand.

“Hey Nance,” Mateo says, trying to cover up how flustered he is.

“I just passed by Judd. He mentioned you had a jet ski to clean,” she says pointedly.

“Oh um, yeah, yes. I’ll just go do that…right now,” Mateo says, scrambling to his feet and heading back to work as T.K. chuckles.

The new deckhand likes to talk big and it’s pretty hilarious. He’s as green as they come, but he’s a quick learner and T.K. knows Judd has been pleased with his progress. 

“I vacuumed the main salon, did the beds and the bath in the master, and cleaned and restocked the bar,” T.K. says. “Iris is finishing up in laundry and then she’ll be done.”

“What did I do to deserve having the most perfect co-second stews in the world?” Nancy says, feigning tears as she plops down into the chair Mateo’s just vacated. “I didn’t come to ask about that though. Are you cool if the new chef bunks with you?”

“Oh we got someone?” T.K. asks. That last he’d heard Captain Tommy had still been calling around.

“Yeah Iris’ friend that she mentioned during our tip meeting,” Nancy says. 

Right. The tip meeting.

He’d been sandwiched between Judd and Nancy on the sofa in the main salon, a glass of sparkling cider in his hand as they all toasted the massive tip their previous charter had left for them. It was their biggest so far of the season and for good reason. They’d worked their asses off.

“Okay so as you know, unfortunately Chef Pearce is no longer able to finish the charter season with us,” Tommy had said as she passed out fat envelopes of cash to each of them.

“And good riddance,” Nancy mumbled under her breath.

Pearce had made all their lives a living hell with his fastidiousness and inability to be flexible with their charter guests’ whims. When Nancy had brought back a steak that their primary guest had deemed too rare it had been the last straw for him and he’d immediately packed all his things and left the next morning without a goodbye to anyone.

“So,” Tommy said, giving Nancy a look that said she agreed with her but wasn’t going to badmouth any former staff, “we are currently looking. It’s a pretty big vacancy to fill and we need someone asap.”

“I have a friend who could probably do it,” Iris had immediately piped up. “Well, technically he’s my ex, but he’s also a friend. I’ve known him since elementary school. One time in third grade, I punched Jimmy Echolls in the face and he—“

“Iris,” Tommy said gently, guiding her back to the moment at hand.

“Right, sorry. His name is Carlos and he’s a chef. A really good one.”

“Give me his contact information and I’ll reach out,” Tommy said. 

That had been two days ago and the last T.K. had heard about it. Thank god they’d had an extra day in between groups so they hadn’t had to explain to any guests that their dinner choices were boxed mac and cheese or Chinese take-out. The crew had been taking it in turns to make dinner for themselves so they wouldn’t starve, but nobody had the skills necessary to serve five star meals to guests shelling out over a hundred thousand dollars for a vacation.

“Seriously, you’re going to make me bunk with another temperamental chef?” T.K. sighs. “Pearce made me clean the grout in our bathroom with a toothbrush.”

“Judd and Mateo are bunked together,” Nancy says. “I don’t want to move them because Judd’s a good influence on the greenie. Marjan and Paul refuse to be separated from what they have started referring to as their “bestie cave.” And I’m certainly not giving up Iris. She doesn’t snore or leave the toilet seat up. So that leaves you.”

“This is really unfair,” T.K. grumbles. “I feel like you’re taking advantage of my easy going nature.”

“Oh I for sure am.” She gives him a pat on the leg as she gets up. “Gotta go. Next guests want an 80’s themed dance party so I gotta call the provisioner. Get ready for some glow in the dark body paint. New chef’ll be here in like an hour so if you have any weird sex stuff lying around go take care of it now.”

“I want a new chief stew!” T.K. yells as she heads back inside.

She turns around and flips him the bird before the sliding doors close behind her.

He’d known he’d end up being the one sharing and he doesn’t really begrudge Nancy’s decision. It doesn’t make sense to move everyone around when they’re already comfortably settled in their rooms. Plus it’s not like he’s going to force Iris to shack up with her ex. It’s just been nice to have the room to himself after dealing with Pearce for a month.

He groans and hoists himself up from the chair, grabbing his towel to carefully wipe away the ring of condensation his sparkling water has left on the side table. Judd is a pretty kind and understanding bosun, but he’ll rip you a new one if he catches you dirtying up the boat after the deck crew has already cleaned things off for a new charter. 

He takes the stairs carefully down to the galley and swings by laundry on his way to his cabin. Iris is in there with her headphones on, bopping away to something he can’t hear as she irons one of Tommy’s white shirts. He taps her on the shoulder and instinctively ducks out of the way as she whips around, arms flailing defensively. “You scared the shit out of me!” she says loudly as she rips out one ear bud.

“Sorry. I came to see if you need any help.”

“Nah, just finishing up Captain’s stuff and then I’m done,” she tells him. 

“I heard your ex is going to be my new roommate,” T.K. says. “Anything I should know?”

“About Carlos?” Iris shrugs. “He’s a guy. He’s nice. Good chef.”

T.K. waits but Iris doesn’t say more. “That’s it?” he says.

She looks at him with her big, wide eyes. “What more do you want? He’ll be good at the job. Oh and he likes his room really clean. So maybe like, pick up your towels and stuff.”

She gives him a smile and then sticks the earbud back in, a clear dismissal.

T.K. rolls his eyes and trudges to his cabin saying hello to their lead deck hand, Paul, as he passes by.

He spends some time making sure the place looks decent. He’d switched to the bottom bunk and started using the top as extra storage the minute Pearce walked out, so he takes all the clean clothes he left up there and shoves them into drawers or under his bed, and then checks to make sure he hasn’t left out anything sensitive in the bathroom.

His phone buzzes with a text from his dad, and he sits down for a few minutes to answer it. Yes, he’s doing fine. Yes, Tommy’s a great captain. No, he doesn’t need a meeting right now. Yes, he’ll be around if his dad flies in to see him for a weekend next month. It’s standard father/son stuff, but it’s a little suffocating, and not for the first time T.K. feels glad that he’s finally out from under his dad’s shadow a little bit. 

Owen Strand had been the captain of the FireBug until about six months ago, when he’d been offered the chance to captain a much bigger boat out in the Mediterranean. He’d wanted T.K. to come with him, had basically assumed it was happening until T.K. had informed him that he wasn’t ready to leave the Bahamas or the FireBug or the family he’d made onboard. Crews like this one don’t come along every day. Judd is a competent and kind bosun. Paul, Marjan, and Mateo are hard working deckies, and fun to be around. Nancy is the chillest chief stew he’s ever worked with. Iris is a sweetheart, if a little blunt, and Tommy has turned out to be a skilled captain, rounding out the team in a way that just seems to work. 

T.K. loves it here. He feels free. Safe. Loved. Which is a pretty big change from how his life used to be. 

Another glance at his phone shows him the time. He needs to get back to work, there’s only an hour or so until the guests arrive. He takes a few minutes to change out of his sweat stained red t-shirt, the Firebug’s name emblazoned in white on the chest and the sleeve along with a distinctive curl of flame, into his more fancy looking white shirt and black shorts, before heading to the main salon to check it over one more time. Heaven only knows somebody has probably tracked something across the carpet by now.

He’s walking past the galley when he hears a softly startled, “Oh fuck,” and then a loud crash. 

Figuring Paul has gotten into another fight with the juicer, he stops and enters the galley doorway, a sassy bit of teasing ready on his tongue. Only he doesn’t find Paul or anyone else from onboard the boat.

Instead he comes face to face with the most gorgeous ass he’s ever seen in his entire life. Literally, this ass is a thing of beauty. It looks like it’s been sculpted out of marble by a master craftsman. This ass is life changing.

And then the rest of the human it’s connected to stands up and T.K. feels like he’s been hit by a rogue wave. If he thought the ass was life-changing, he doesn’t even have words for the full man who stands before him.

Eyes, dark and soft, and hair so curly that T.K.’s fingers immediately itch to run through it. Even through the man’s dark blue button down and chinos T.K. can tell that he’s got a great body. The kind of body that has, in the past, caused T.K. to make some very stupid, but very fun, decisions. 

His gaydar is practically screaming at him and it takes him too long to realize that he’s staring and that this strange god of a man is talking to him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” T.K. says quickly.

“Sorry about that,” the man says. “I didn’t realize the shelf was loose.”

“Yeah. Yeah that one’s a little faulty. Judd keeps fixing it and it just keeps coming out again,” T.K. says automatically. “Are you…you must be the new chef?”

“Yes, hi, sorry, Carlos. Carlos Reyes,” the man says, holding out a hand.

T.K. shakes it and feels like his knees might give out. Holy hell he can’t remember the last time he felt this instantly attracted to someone. “I’m T.K. Strand,” he manages. “Second stew. Well, co-second stew. Iris is the other one. Which, you already know because you and Iris are…well you…”

He is blowing this so freaking bad right now. He spots a large rolling suitcase in front of the fridge and clears his throat to try again. “Did you come straight here before unpacking your stuff?”

“Yeah I went up and met the captain and I was on my way to the cabin, but I saw the galley and got distracted,” Carlos says sheepishly.

Kind of like how T.K. had been on his way to the main salon and now can’t find a single reason to care about whether or not the throw pillows have been karate chopped into perfection. “I get that. Professional hazard.”

“Yeah something like that,” Carlos says, flashing him a smile that threatens to bowl him over. 

He’s Iris’ ex, he’s Iris’ ex, he’s Iris’ ex. T.K repeats it to himself sternly. That makes him off limits. Completely. Nothing more than a fantasy for T.K. to have when he’s alone. 

And he will be having that fantasy. 

Probably a lot.

He realizes he’s gone awkwardly silent again and searches for something to say that won’t sound weird or horny. “We’re sharing a cabin. I can show you.”

“Oh yeah, thanks, that would be great,” Carlos says, grabbing his suitcase and following T.K. down the hall.

The cabin is tiny. Just two bunks, a teeny wardrobe and a couple drawers each, and their bathroom with an awkwardly small shower. T.K. takes a quick glance at Carlos and wonders how such a large man is going to fit, and then quickly shoves it away. He can’t be thinking about his new roommate naked, soapy, water sluicing down his body…

“I left you the top bunk. Is that okay?” T.K. asks, hoping to god his voice sounds normal.

If it was anybody else he wouldn’t even ask, he’d just pull the longevity card because like hell is he undoing his whole bed, but something about this man has grabbed hold of him and he finds he would literally go dive into the ocean if it would make Carlos happy.

“That’s fine,” Carlos says. “I like it on top.”

T.K.’s knees go weak and he immediately breaks out in a sweat even though the A/C is on full blast. Thank god Carlos has turned around is starting to pull things out of his suitcase, so he doesn’t see T.K.’s complete loss of motor function.

“When you’re ready I can introduce you to everyone else,” T.K. says when he finally recovers.

“Yeah give me like ten minutes, I just need to change,” Carlos says.

T.K. makes a hasty exit and goes down the hall to sit at the table in the crew mess while he waits. The last thing he needs is to see Carlos naked. His brain is already on overdrive, if he gets any more input he’s going to need an extremely cold shower, and there’s no time for that.

Carlos emerges almost exactly ten minutes later, now dressed in his chef’s coat. Somehow it makes him look even hotter, all professional and buttoned up and T.K. nearly swallows his own tongue trying not to say something stupid. They head up the stairs and through the main salon to the aft deck where Paul, Marjan, Mateo, and Judd are doing some last minute polishing of the railings so they gleam beneath the Caribbean sunlight. 

“Well, well, well, look who’s finally back. Grab a bucket and start scrubbing,” Paul teases as they walk out through the automatic doors.

“You think I want a cushy job like this? Please. Interior is where the fun is. Vomit. People’s dirty underwear. It’s like an unending hazardous situation,” T.K. teases right back.

He sees the look of curiosity on Carlos’ face and fills him in. “I used to be a deckie,” he says. “Made the change to interior about a year ago. It’s a better fit.”

“What he means is that it’s easier for him to charm all the guests,” Marjan says, wiping a hand across her forehead. Her makeup is impeccable and she looks like a movie star even in the deck crew’s bright red shirts.

“I didn’t see you complaining when our tips were almost double last charter,” T.K. tells her. 

“Pretty sure that was because of the good time I showed them on the water toys,” Mateo says.

“Mateo you couldn’t even get the jet ski started this morning,” Judd says with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t think you were the reason we got a good tip.”

“Anyway,” T.K. says, breaking up the teasing, “This is Carlos. The new chef.”

“Hey Carlos. I’m Judd. Bosun,” Judd says, sticking out a massive hand to shake Carlos’.

“Paul.”

“Marjan.”

“Mateo.”

The rest of the team chimes in and shakes hands as well. “Nice to meet you all,” Carlos says. “I’m excited to be here.”

“We’re glad to have you,” Paul says. “These people have been making me pull double duty on the deck and in the kitchen so we don’t starve.”

“You made one meal,” Marjan says, smacking at him with her towel.

“I made chili!” Paul says. “That’s so much work it’s basically three meals!”

“Wow, thanks for rolling out the red carpet and making a good first impression guys,” T.K. says, glancing at Carlos to gauge his reaction to the team shenanigans.

Carlos chuckles. “Chili is a lot of work, and I’m sure it was delicious.” He looks down at his watch. “I’m really sorry to cut it short, but I think I’ve got my work cut out for me in the galley.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t let us keep you,” Judd says, waving them off. 

“They seem nice,” Carlos observes once they’re back in the cool air conditioning of the interior.

“This team is solid,” T.K. tells him, feeling himself puff up with pride. “Judd has been with the boat since day one. The rest of us have been here at least a couple years. It’s family.”

He’s about to open his mouth to ask Carlos a little more about himself when there’s a yelp and a body comes hurtling toward them at light speed. Iris throws herself at Carlos, wrapping him up in an aggressive hug that almost takes them both to the floor. “You’re here!” she yells, glee evident in every line of her body.

Despite his initial shock Carlos immediately softens, his face going tender and warm. His hand cradles the back of Iris’ head and he practically cuddles her right there in the salon, making T.K. feel like he’s awkwardly intruded on a private moment. “Hey chica,” Carlos says, his voice full of something so tender that it sends a jolt of jealousy through T.K. Whatever happened between him and Iris, it doesn’t seem like Carlos is over it.

He pulls back after a minute, cupping Iris’ face in his hands as he studies it closely. “How are you? You’re good?”

“Oh my god, you’re such a worrier. Yes. I’m good,” she says with a laugh. 

“And Michelle?”

T.K.’s memory vaguely supplies that Michelle is Iris’ older sister. “Yeah she’s good too. Chief stew on a boat in Italy right now,” Iris says. She sends a glance at T.K., her eyes sparkling. “I see you met T.K. already. He’s your roommate you know.”

Something odd flashes across Carlos’ face. “Yeah I know,” he says, looking almost embarrassed.

T.K. desperately wants to know what’s going on. He feels like he’s missed out on a private joke, but at that moment Nancy strides into the salon. “Okay enough chatting people we have guests coming onboard in—” she checks her watch, “—less than half an hour.” She stops when she sees Carlos. “Oh hi. You the new chef?”

He shakes her hand. “Yeah, Carlos.”

“Thank god. Nancy. Chief stew. We should talk.”

“Yes,” Carlos says. “I didn’t see the preference sheets for the guests in the galley. Do you have them?”

She holds up a stack of papers. “On my way to post them now. Want to come with and we’ll figure out what kind of fancy ass food these people want?”

“Definitely,” Carlos says.

“And you two can start making drinks and getting cold towels ready,” Nancy calls over her shoulder.

“Already done!” T.K. and Iris chime together.

Nancy turns and walks the last few steps to the doorway backward, pointing at them and then clasping her hands over her heart. “And that’s why you two are my favorites.”

“So?” Iris says as she and T.K. step behind the bar to finish setting up the cocktails. “He’s hot right? I told you.”

“Actually you didn’t,” T.K. says mildly. She could not have said less about it in fact. 

“I didn’t?” She scrunches up her nose and thinks for a second, then shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “Whatever. He is though, right? Very hot?”

“I’m going to be honest here and say I think it’s kind of weird that you talk about your ex like this,” T.K. says, pouring champagne carefully into glasses.

“What does him being my ex have to do with it?” she scoffs. “He’s objectively hot. You have to see it.”

T.K. is going to admit to no such thing. And he knows if stalls long enough Iris will move on. Her attention span tends to be on the short side.

“God, why do they make these fucking skorts so short?” she asks seconds later, yanking at the black fabric covering her thighs. “It’s sexist. And misogynistic.”

“Aren’t those kind of the same thing?”

She glares at him. “You can mansplain sexism to me when you have a skirt the size of a postage stamp riding up your ass. Okay? Okay.”

She grabs the tray of champagne glasses from him and whisks them away without another word. He huffs out a laugh and opens the fridge to take out the towels and stack them up on a second tray as Tommy’s voice comes over the radio announcing that the guests will be arriving in less than five minutes and to please get to the aft deck.

Everyone looks fresh and ready in their whites and Tommy gives him a nod as he joins the line-up, tucking in at the end next to Iris. Seconds later another body slides into the open space on his left and he looks up to find Carlos. The other man gives him a quick smile, a trace of nerves hiding behind it. T.K. feels the overwhelming urge to reach over and squeeze his hand in reassurance. Thank god he’s occupied with holding the towel tray because he’s not sure he could stop himself otherwise. 

And then he’d have to throw himself overboard, swim to a deserted island, and start a new life with nothing but a volleyball for company.

“There they are,” Judd says half a second later, nodding toward the dock where a group of impeccably dressed men and women are walking toward the Firebug.

“They look rich,” Mateo says.

“They always look rich,” Marjan tells him with a roll of her eyes. “Only rich people can afford chartered yacht vacations.”

“Yeah but there’s a difference between looking rich and being rich,” Mateo says.

T.K. has to agree with him. People who are rich tend to have high expectations, but are usually pretty nice and leave big tips. People who look rich…that’s a crapshoot. And they usually end up being assholes.

T.K. hopes it’s the former this time.

There are greetings and handshakes all around and then Nancy takes them off to tour the boat as T.K. and Iris wash the champagne glasses and throw the towels in the laundry before heading down to help put away the luggage the deck crew has hauled onboard.

Then it’s a whirlwind of drinks and snacks and cleaning (there’s always something to be cleaned) as they set sail away from the dock, the white prow of the Firebug gleaming as it cuts through the cerulean blue of the ocean. 

T.K. doesn’t get more than a glimpse of Carlos again until dinner. When Nancy calls him over the radio to come for service he walks into the galley and stops dead in his tracks. The guests asked for a sushi spread but what he sees is…unbelievable. It should have been physically impossible for Carlos to produce this much food at this level of quality in the few hours he’s been on board. 

“Holy shit. This is gorgeous.” The words are out of T.K.’s mouth before he means them to be.

“Thanks,” Carlos says, slightly flushed from the heat of his work. He’s pouring heavy cream into a bowl, probably working on dessert already. 

“No seriously this is…how did you do all of this so fast?” T.K. asks.

He’s worked on boats for years. He’s seen impressive food before. Michelin star worthy meals. But this tops all of it. 

Carlos shrugs and starts whisking, the muscles of his upper arm flexing back forth in an impressive display. “It’s my job,” he says simply. “I put the crew dinner out too. Make sure you get some.”

Nancy and Iris still haven’t arrived, so T.K. sneaks over to the crew mess and finds Paul devouring an equally impressive spread of sushi. “Save some for the rest of us,” T.K. says, snagging a California roll and shoving it whole into his mouth. 

“It’s so good though,” Paul groans. “I thought Pearce was good, even if he was a son of a bitch, but damn. This new guy….”

T.K. agrees. The California roll is the best he’s ever had in his life and he stands there at the table devouring a few more mouthfuls before Nancy and Iris sweep in and force him back to work. 

Dinner service goes shockingly smoothly. No one yells. No one sulks in passive aggressive silence. Carlos and Nancy communicate perfectly, food goes out on time, the wine flows, the guests are thrilled, it’s literally the best night they’ve had on the boat in weeks. 

Tommy comes down halfway through, a soft smile on her face when she sees how easily Carlos has slipped into the role of chef. He smiles and laughs as he cooks, chatting away easily with the captain as if they’re old friends. There’s a sense of relief flooding through the boat. Carlos is a good fit. Thank god.

T.K. and Iris run down in between courses to turndown the cabins (thank god these guests seem pretty neat and tidy) and then Iris heads to bed as soon as dinner service is done so she can get up early to run breakfast. The meal has created about a thousand dishes and Nancy starts to help, but T.K. shoos her away. He’s on lates tonight, staying up to make sure the guests have any late night drinks or snacks they need, but she should get some sleep.

Carlos is wiping down counters. His chef’s coat is partially unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up to expose his incredibly muscular forearms. The second T.K. sees them he repeats his mantra from earlier: He’s Iris’ ex, He’s Iris ex, He’s Iris’ ex…

Maybe if T.K. keeps reminding himself of that, his stupid heart will stop trying to leap out of his chest at the sight of this beautiful man.

“Oh thanks,” Carlos says, relief on his face when he sees T.K. roll up his own sleeves and start scrubbing away at the rest of the dishes. “I thought I was going to be here all night.”

“Happy to help,” T.K. says lightly.

“So how long have you been on the Firebug?” Carlos asks.

“Like, three years now?” T.K. says as he carefully sets some glassware to the side. “My dad used to be captain.”

“Oh cool,” Carlos replies. “Where is he now?”

“Boat in the Mediterranean. It’s a bigger vessel. They have good wine over there.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Yeah.” T.K. hesitates and then asks because he has to know. “So you’re from Austin? You and Iris grew up together?”

“Yeah the Blakes lived down the street,” Carlos says. “My sisters and I were always over at their house. They had a dog and a trampoline. We did not.”

“I see the appeal.”

“So three years here, where before that?”

T.K.’s stomach lurches. Before is hard to talk about. Before was full of pills and booze and shame and it’s something the crew all knows about, but it’s not a story that everyone can accept. The thought of this perfect looking man getting weird over it forces T.K. to hold back. “New York,” he says softly. “Manhattan. I lived there with my mom when I was a kid.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to New York.” Carlos sets a pan back into its place. “I have to know. Are the bagels actually that good? I mean…they’re really just regular bagels, right? Bagels aren’t even that great to begin with.”

“I’ll have you know that New York bagels are legendary,” T.K. tells him immediately. “There will be no bagel slander on this boat.”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Carlos says with a laugh, holding up his hands. “I take it back.”

“You’d better,” T.K. says, also laughing. This guy is fun. Why the hell did Iris break up with him?

Carlos finishes what he’s doing and comes to dry the dishes T.K. has washed, but T.K. waves him off. “Head to bed,” he advises. “I know how much travel days suck and you’ve got to be up early for breakfast.”

“Thanks,” Carlos says, fatigue creeping in at the edges of him. “See you in the morning.”

T.K. puts away the last of the dishes and then heads up to check on the guests. He’s shocked to find Mateo hosing down the teak and not another person in sight. “They went to bed like ten minutes ago,” he says with a shrug. “Easiest night ever right?”

“Yeah seriously,” T.K. says. “You on anchor watch?”

“Yep,” Mateo pops the “p.” “All night long baby.”

“Don’t let us blow into a rock.”

“Ha ha.”

T.K. bids him goodnight and then heads toward his cabin. Maybe it’s exhaustion. Maybe it’s that Carlos brought up New York and now T.K.’s memories of that time are swirling around in his head. Maybe he’s distracted by the fact that these are the easiest guests he’s ever had in his entire life. Whatever the reason is, he forgets that Chef Carlos Reyes is his new roommate until he opens the door and sees him standing there.

In nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs.

Holy.

Fuck.

It’s just a reality of boat life that you see people naked or nearly naked on a regular basis. Quarters are tight and honestly, after so much time together, it literally doesn’t even matter. T.K.’s seen pretty much everyone’s butts and boobs and dicks onboard at this point and it doesn’t even phase him anymore.

But the sight of Carlos, hair still wet, the entire room damp from the steam of his shower and smelling like sandalwood and pine, feels so intimate that it nearly sends T.K. to his knees. 

And he’s pretty sure he would do just about anything Carlos wanted once he was down there.

T.K. was right. The man has muscles. So. Many. Muscles. He’s an Adonis. A god. He can’t possibly be real.

He’s like T.K.’s dream guy wrapped up in neon yellow caution tape that screams OFF LIMITS.

Oh god. 

He’s not going to make it through this charter season.

Hell.

He’s not going to make it through tonight.

“Sorry, am I in your way?” Carlos asks as he continues threading his chef’s coat onto a hanger.

Something flashes across his face. If T.K. didn’t know better he’d almost think it was something smug. Like he’s seen T.K. ogling him and possibly, maybe, is standing in their room mostly naked on purpose.

“No,” T.K. says quickly, squeezing in and shutting the door behind him.

Bad idea. Oh god. This space is so small. He’s practically chest to naked chest with Carlos and he can’t breathe or think and if he doesn’t do something right now he’s not going to be able to stop himself from reaching out and touching those washboard abs…

“Are you done in the bathroom?” he manages to squeak out.

“Yes,” Carlos says, that smug-ish look still on his face. “All yours.”

“Thanks.”

T.K. practically runs inside and locks the door behind him, collapsing onto the toilet lid. 

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

I'm Longing To Linger Til Dawn, Dear

Wordcount: 12k

Thor x POC Singer!Reader “Honey” x Bucky. Thor x POC Singer!Reader “Honey” x Bucky x Steve.

Summary:

After a successful mission with the Guardians, Tony decides celebrations are in order. What better place to do that than the Jazz club Honey works at. Especially if it’s a surprise for their favorite songstress.

Warnings:

Smut, Humor, Fluff and Crack, Shameless Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Polyamory, Female Character of Color, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Light BDSM, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Dom/sub, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom Thor (Marvel), Threesome - F/M/M, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Bad Jokes, MusicJazz - Freeform, Celebrations, Partying

Notes:

Hello Heathens! This took me some time to finish but I'm happy with the end result. This installment is very song heavy. I created an entire set list that I will post in the end notes to give credit where credit is due and not give anything away. I will also have links embedded to the songs as well. Bold are song lyrics Italics are thoughts Happy Reading!

Banner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

Dirty, worn out and all together disheveled, The Avengers, along with the Guardians of the Galaxy and a battle-worn Valkyrie, prepare to load on to their respective aircrafts and embark on the journey home. 

“Revels abound! Thank you Guardians! And you as well Brunhilde for the aid in our victory! You are most welcome to join in our post mission celebrations. I am sure Tony can accommodate you at the compound.” Thor boasts joyfully in his post battle glory. He is a God of war afterall. 

“How generous of you Point Break to go ahead and invite the rag tag band of misfits to our home.” Tony retorts as he rids himself of his Iron Man suit with the push of a button. 

“You are most welcome Stark.” Your golden retriever of a man, pleased with himself, replies. Steve and Bucky just shake their heads and chuckle.

“Right. Well, Quill. You guys like music right. You’re blaring it all the time it seems. I have an idea where we can celebrate tonight actually. But we're all gonna need to clean up real nice for it. I can provide what you need but I’m going to need to send everyone's sizes to Pep. Also my fellow Avengers, anyone you want to tag along I’m gonna need to know about to also send to Pep. Except you three.” He points to your trio with a raised brow. 

“Why not us three?” The Captain replies, brows furrowed.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist Capsicle. I have a reason. Seeing as we’ll be heading to your little Honey’s club to celebrate, I figured you’d want to surprise her. Therefore negating the need for me to know your plus one. Actually do you know if she is even working tonight?” He inquires.

Buck is quick to reply. “It’s the third Saturday of the month so she may not be. She usually takes it off so she can have a free weekend once a month with us. But we all left quickly for this mission and barely had a chance to check in with her so that may have changed. I’d have to find out.” 

Nat saunters over. “No need. I spoke with her yesterday and she decided to switch her night off for next weekend. Plus she wanted to be there to support Sy as he’s stepping out from just the band and back vocals to warming up the crowd on his own for the first time tonight.” 

“Sy?” Steve asks.

“Yeah. He’s her ex fuck buddy. But they’re still close friends. She got him the job at Chanticleers actually.” She smirks.

“Wait. You mean the bearded guy built like a fucking brickhouse that plays the guitar and piano?” Bucky pipes in.

“That would be him, yes.”

“Makes sense they would have history together. He looks like a damn Viking. Could almost give me and Steve a run for our money. Guess it’s time to get to know this Sy a little better if he’s spending so much time with our girl during the week.” He gives Steve and Thor a look and it seems they're all on the same page with that one. 

They just want to make sure no one encroaches on what’s rightfully theirs. One can never be too careful.

“Oooh that’s gonna be fun to watch. I’ve never seen all of them get all possessive before. They share so well normally.” Tony intones. “Looks like it’s settled then. We’ll head to the compound, get dressed up and then it's off to Chanticleers to watch these three lose their minds. I’m quite excited to see the little vixen in her element. That display at my afterparty was nice but I need the full immersive experience.” 

“Steven has never actually seen her perform at the club before. This will be a most promising venture in self control for him. I can not wait. To the Quinjet. Brunhilde you will ride with us.” Thor turns on his heel and heads on to the jet.

Another Saturday night, another evening to impart your special brand of entertainment on the souls packed into this little club. 

Chanticleers is not some big swanky Jazz bar with layers of silk lining the walls and balcony seats. Oh no, Chanticleers is a sweet little spot full of charm and sass. Just like it’s beloved performers. 

It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but that’s the point. If every Tom, Dick and Harry knew of the place, it would lose what’s most special about it. Stepping through those doors is like stepping back in time with a twist. 

A vast space of brick walls painted black and crimson, filled with colorful abstract jazz art created by local Artists of color. A moderate sized stage, complete with a big band setup, stands proudly against the back wall. Situated to the left of the stage, is where the bar is located, complete with a red cedar counter and suspender wearing barkeep with a gentlemans cut. A small dance floor sits in front of the stage surrounded by various tables. Large booths line the remaining walls, leaving space for a small hallway that leads to the restrooms and backstage areas. 

You're currently nestled in the dressing room. Perched on the velvet bench of the vanity, putting on the finishing touches of your makeup, a deep crimson lip. Tonight you’ve gone for neutral tones with a bold lip and light smokey eye. Your entire look is low key sexy. Just enough skin to entice but enough hidden to have them imagining what could possibly be hidden underneath. You want the attention to be on your performance, not your looks after all. 

With a final smack of your lips, and an air kiss to the mirror you head out to the wings to check on how Sy is handling warming up the crowd on his own.  

As you approach the curtain you watch on as every woman is enraptured by the mammoth of a man with the buttery baritone voice. He was nervous that no would listen and he’d get booed off the stage. I told him he had nothing to worry about. I knew he'd be soaking panties left and right once he opened his mouth. 

Scanning the crowd you notice a couple servers heading towards a roped off section of the club with a rather large order of drinks on their trays. I don’t remember there being a party reserved for tonight. Must be a last minute large group. No matter. I’ll make sure tonight is worth the price tag I know comes with those seats. 

Eyes following the path of the servers you spot a very familiar redhead dressed to the nines in all black, sandwiched between a very dapper looking scientist and surprisingly pulled together archer in a purple suit. Only Clint would don a purple suit for a night on the town.

Upon closer inspection you realize the rest of the Avengers, complete with significant others and the Guardians are in attendance. You even spot Brunhilde looking like a warrior goddess in sea foam green holding court next to Thor.  

Those cheeky little assholes. They must have finished their mission and came out to celebrate. I’m sure the billionaire and the widow have something to do with them all being here. But I’m not complaining. My men look fucking delectable. A full four courses. They know what they’re doing too. But so do I. They’ll fall under my spell just like the rest.

You take a moment to admire your little harem of dashing men. They do clean up very well. It’s not the first or last time you’ll see them donning a suit but something about the informal formal wear is doing something to you. It’s like they all chose violence this evening, attacking you with their collective big dick energy. Seriously, it was enough to have you ruining your panties. 

Bucky in his black on black suit, sans tie, top two buttons undone, hair slicked back and day old stubble along his jaw. Steve with his hair in a perfect deep gentleman's cut, well trimmed beard adorning his face, donning a dark blue three piece suit, complete with striped tie and pocket square. Let’s not forget Thor, looking very much the modern day King, in a deep teal blazer, gray slacks, a white button down with the top three buttons undone and blonde locks loosely pulled back into a low bun. 

Seriously you’re going to have to channel all of this lust into your vocals so you can even the playing field. Let the show begin.

The house lights dim, signaling the main show is about to begin. Sy has moved to sit with the band that surrounds a single vintage microphone, placed dead center of the stage. 

The lights go out for a brief moment before a lone spot light illuminates you, with your black stiletto nails wrapped so carefully around the mic. Dream A Little Dream Of Me begins to play and your sultry haunting voice starts to fill the space. 

Your eyes drift through the crowd. Pulling the guests in with your subtle seductive movements. You finally allow yourself to look toward the section you know your men are occupying and zone in on the three of them. You can clearly see this particular song is having an effect on Bucky and Steve. It is a song from their glory days afterall. Thor just seems enticed with your body as you move along to the music and he sips on the amber liquid in his glass.

Not one to shy away from a moment to tease your men when they have no other choice but to wait patiently until they can have you to themselves, you keep your eyes locked on your Super Soldiers as you near the end of your first song of the night. 

“Stars fading but I linger on, dear Still craving your kiss I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear Just saying this Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you But in your dreams whatever they be Dream a little dream of me”

As the last note is finished, a saccharine sweet smile adorns your face as you address the club.

“Welcome everyone to Chanticleers. You can call me Honey. I’ll be your songstress for the evening. For those new faces among the crowd, let me tell ya a bit about what we do here.” You keep your gaze on the section full of superheroes and their guests as you elaborate. 

“Our little Jazz Club. Or speakeasy. Quite honestly both terms fit the bill.” The room chuckles at your little joke. “Chanti’s is a place to forget about the world outside for a bit and escape to another time and place. That time and place can be whatever you need it to be in your mind's eye. We just provide a starting point for some and a special place for others.” 

Tony looks intrigued as you continue on. “You’re in for a treat tonight, if I do say so myself. You have already had the pleasure of meeting one of our band members, Sy, as he graced the stage by his lonesome for the first time to provide you with ambiance before we got started tonight. Let’s give him a nice round of applause for keeping you heathens happy while I got suited and booted for tonight.” Sy glares daggers your way and just shakes his head while the audience claps for him.

“He really was wonderful, wasn't he, ladies? Before I get sidetracked, tonight's Big Band Night. What’s that you say? Well every song performed tonight, no matter the decade or genre, will be done in a 40s/50s style. So grab a drink, make sure your dance partner is near and let’s get on with the show.”

The band starts playing a jazzy rendition of Hit ‘Em Up Style. 

The section containing your men and their friends watches on captivated as you play around with an early 2000’s classic. Being sassy and coy while delivering lyrics about getting revenge on a cheating ex, as the dance floor in front of you begins to fill with couples. You begin to do a little impromptu scatting, Steve and Bucky share a quick look with each other, clearly communicating something without words. 

Bucky leans over and whispers in Steve’s ear. “Weren’t expecting her to throw you back to the dance halls, were ya pal?” He shakes his head no in response. “Don’t worry, it did the same thing to me the first time too. She truly is a wet dream personified. Let me guess? We’re only on the second song of the night and your dick is probably already making your pants uncomfortable.” Again he nods. “Thought so. We can show her how much we appreciated her performance later. Maybe she’ll give us a private encore.”

The song ends with you giving a wink to Steve as you walk to the piano with the mic in your hand.

“This one’s for the lovers out there.” You hop up onto the piano lid as the first chords of a sweet tempoed version of All of Me commences. 

You croon softly atop the piano for about half of the song before you proceed to make your way back to the mic stand and really throw your voice into the end of this ballad. 

“Give me all of you, oh Cards on the table, we're both showing hearts Risking it all, though it's hard 'Cause all of me Loves all of you Love your curves and all your edges All your perfect imperfections Give your all to me I'll give my all to you You're my end and my beginnin' Even when I lose, I'm winnin' 'Cause I give you all of me And you give me all of you I give you all of me And you give me all of you, oh-oh”

“So you’re telling me, that the hot chick with a voice up there is dating not only Thor but Steve and Bucky as well?” Quill asks Brunhilde.

“Yes Quill. That’s precisely what I’m telling you. Now would you quiet down so I can continue to enjoy the show?” She quips back.

“Continue to undress Honey’s former paramour with your eyes is more like it. Brunhilde you are looking at him like, what’s that phrase Honey likes to use? Ah yes…like a snack.” Thors jests at the Valkyrie. 

“He is quite a feast for the eyes. Never you mind where mine wander too. Keep yours on that delectable little siren of yours. I can see why she needs three of you.” She cracks back. 

“Who’s all ready to show off those dancing skills? There’s a man back there I know for fact could show you lot a thing or two about how to woo a woman on the dance floor. I also know a man back there who thinks his hips are a god's gift to women. So I say…why don't we have a little dance off? What do you think?” You question the crowd but your focus is on a smirking Bucky and shock faced Sam.

“I know she is not saying that Tin Man can best me on the dance floor.” The aghast Falcon replies.

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what she’s saying. Don't want you to embarrass yourself in front of your lady friend Sam. Maybe you should sit this one out and let Buck give the room a lesson.” Nat instigates.

“Oh hell naw. Buck get up. We’re doing this. You’re going down old man.” Sam grabs his date and heads to the floor.

“Did ya really have to rial him up so much Nat? For that, you’re going to be my partner. For once, please just follow my lead.” He chuckles and holds out his hand for her to take as they make their way to the dance floor. 

“Looks like my challenge has been accepted. Sy if you wouldn’t mind…” 

A little dramatic piano intro begins followed quickly by your sultry voice. 

“Heeeeeyyyy. Yeeeaaaah. I wanna shoop baaaaabaaaabbbyyy yeah huh.”

The band swings in as you begin to rap along to this Big Band version of Salt ‘n Peppa’s Shoop. A stunned Sam fumbles to grab his date as Buck and Nat have already begun to swing to the up tempo beat. 

The audience is going wild watching Bucky do his thing while Sam tries to keep up. Others have joined in on the fun but Steve can’t keep his eyes off you as you dance and play along on stage and with the crowd, cheering Bucky on. How the hell did I get so lucky to share this woman with my best friends. She has no idea what is going to be in store for her tonight.

Bucky tosses Nat in the air and catches her just as you're ending the song. 

“I like what ya do. When ya dooo. I like it…when ya… shoooooooo….OOOOOOOOp…yeah yeah!” 

The audience erupts in cheers as Bucky places Nat down and grins over at Sam. “Not so old now am I?”

“Whatever man. You only won cus this is your decade.” Sam pouts.

You shake your head and get the room's attention again. “ Wooo wee was that something. Thank you for that, really. Now we’re starting to near the end of tonight’s set. I think after that high it’s best that we slow it down and ease on into the rest of your night. Here’s some Rihanna to ease that burn Sammy.” You wink at the pride wounded man as Sy strikes up the beginning chords to Love On The Brain.

Only you and Sy are lit with a spotlight as you lose yourself in the song and lyrics. Your feelings leaking out into the room as you think about your men. Such different temperaments and styles of dominant male and yet it's the perfect combination for you. Thor with his sweet soft Caring Dom vibes. Bucky with his intense Primal Dom urges. Let’s not forget that perfect Gentleman Dom that is Steve. They are everything you need and more. 

You make sure to maintain eye contact with the three of them as you serenade the audience.

“Don't you stop loving me (loving me) Don't quit loving me (loving me) Just start loving me (loving me) Oh, and baby I'm fist fighting with fire Just to get close to you Can we burn something, babe? And I run for miles just to get a taste Must be love on the brain That's got me feeling this way (feeling this way) It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good And I can't get enough Must be love on the brain yeah And it keeps cursing my name (cursing my name) No matter what I do, I'm no good without you And I can't get enough Must be love on the brain”

Their eyes don't stop devouring you once. As you finish the song you're a bit of a panting mess. You’re most definitely keyed up and ready to be off this stage and surrounded by your men. Two more songs to go and then the real fun can begin. 

They all unconsciously take a sip of their matching amber drinks at the same time. A glint of mischief in all their eyes.

“We’re taking it back this time. A nice little moment to hold your dearest and sway on the dance floor. Come on down. Don't be shy. Now’s your chance to hold them extra close and work your magic.” 

You perform Billie Holidays version of It Had To Be You with such a calm cool ease. You’ve been singing this song since you were little. It’s become second nature to you. Watching all the couples on the dance floor warms your heart. It allows you to quickly transition to the next song. 

“Lovers. Remain where you are as we bring the tempo up a bit.” 

The band plays a 40s swing cover of Still Into You. It’s light and fun and sweet. Like all the couples cuddled up on the dance floor. 

“Some things just, some things just make sense And one of those is you and I (Hey) Some things just, some things just make sense And even after all this time (Hey) I'm into you, baby, not a day goes by That I'm not into you”

Once the song ends, as always you introduce the band before singing your last song. You notice Brunhilde hasn't kept her eyes off Sy all night. I see you spying my former Viking B and I don't blame you. 

It’s finally time to end your set and leave the patrons of this lovely establishment to venture off on their own adventures for the rest of the night.

“Tonight has been a blast and I hope that we’ve been able to provide you with the escape you needed. We have one last song for you tonight before you head out on your merry way. But don't be surprised if it has you coming back for more.” A devilish smile illuminates your face as you perform your final seduction of the night.

“I put a spell on you because you're mine You better stop the things that you do I ain't lyin', no, I ain't lyin' I just can't stand it babe The way you're always runnin' 'round I just can't stand it, the way you always put me down I put a spell on you because you're mine I put a spell on you because you're mine You better stop the things that you do I ain't lyin', no, I ain't lyin' I just can't stand it babe The way you're always runnin' 'round I just can't stand it, the way you always put me down I put a spell on you because you're mine I put a spell on you. I put a spell on you I put a spell on you. I put a spell on you”

It’s as if you really did put a spell on the crowd. The room is full of hungry eyes and pent up tension that needs a release. Just the way you like to end a night. 

“Once again, I’m Honey, your resident songstress. Thank you for giving me your time and attention. Goodnight everyone.”

You blow the crowd a kiss as the lights go out and you hurry backstage while you wait for the crowd to dissipate. Downing some much needed water as your manager approaches you to let you know that Tony Stark has decided that he doesn’t want his night to end here and has rented out the club for the rest of the night so he and his friends can “continue the party with some privacy”. He’s even paying extra for any band member that wishes to stay and play if they are needed. 

Of course Mr. Money Bags rented out the club. Oh well. Maybe I’ll get a chance to actually dance with my men and have some fun. I really have missed them.

After a touch up to your makeup and finalizing who in the band is staying, you’re ready to head back out and enjoy the rest of your night. It’s been a long 2 weeks without your men and limited contact. Plus you’re kind of excited to introduce them to Sy. Knowing Nat, she most likely already stirred the pot and dropped the little fact that he’s your ex fuckbuddy who you’re still close to.

Speaking of the grizzly bear of a Southern gentleman, he’s heading your way.

“Hey Sugar. Ya ready for all that hullabalu out there? Should I be concerned that I’m gonna get a super hero beat down from your men or just an interrogation?” He gives you his arm to latch onto as you make your way down the hall out into the main room.  

“Honestly, I don't quite know Sy. They’re fine sharing with each other and they aren't much of the jealous type. It’s not like we’re still fucking. I think Tony may give you more trouble than them. Maybe even Sam. Although I’m sure there will be questions. They are a nosy bunch. Answer them however you see fit. I have nothing to hide. But I can only speak for me. If I know my men the way I think I do, ya’ll might just end up best friends sharing stories before the night is over.” You laugh out and smile brightly at the scruffy mountain of a man.

The scene you walk into is one you are actually familiar with by this point in your relationship. The room is full of raucous laughter and chatter as the Avengers and Guardians let themselves enjoy a night free of responsibility. 

You find your men sitting at a booth. Steve and Thor are engaged in a conversation with Brunhilde while Sam and Bucky bicker about that dance off. Cleary Sam is still bitter that he lost. 

Bucky catches your eye as you approach them, still on Sy’s arm. 

“Hey there sweetness. You were amazing tonight as always.” At his greeting, the rest of the table turns your way with grins on their faces.

“You most certainly were Doll. Brought back some memories for me and most certainly created some new and hopefully future ones.” Steve comments with a wink and a smirk.

“And you looked ravishing as always, my Queen.” Thor imparts with his panty melting smile.

You feel heat begin to rise in your cheeks and core at the praise you’ve just received. These suave bastards know just what they’re doing. 

“Why thank you boys. I do aim to please.” You give a little curtsy.

Bucky lifts his glass and stares you deep in the eyes with his heated gaze. “Oh you most certainly hit the mark babygirl.”

He maintains eye contact as he takes a sip of his drink, quirking one brow.

You swallow back a whimper as you remain clutched to Sy’s arm. “What ya got in that glass Sarg?”

He crooks two of his metal fingers at you in a come hither fashion as he answers you. “Why don’t you let go of your former fuckbuddy and come over here and find out.”

You unlatch yourself from Sy and proceed over to Bucky, who wraps his metal arm around your waist and pulls you down onto his lap. Before you have a chance to get comfortable he leans in and kisses you. Running his tongue along your bottom lip for entrance, until you open up and get the first taste of whiskey on his tongue. There’s no holding back the small moan at this point. 

He knows what getting that second hand taste of that particular beverage does to you. You begin to melt as the kiss gets deeper and a little more heated. You completely forget you're in a room full of people at your place of work. Sam clearing his throat knocks you both out of your lust drunk stupor.

“That’s one way to mark your territory.” Sam snarks before turning to Sy. “Hey man, I’m Sam. I am not attached to Honey in any way other than being a friend to these knuckleheads. You’re Sy right?” He reaches his hand out.

“That would be correct. Nice ta meet ya.” Sy shakes his hand then proceeds to reach over you to Bucky. “Syverson but you can call me Sy. I presume your James Barnes?”

They shake hands. “Bucky is fine man. Nice to put a face to the name.”

“Likewise.” He turns to Steve next. “I know a fellow Captain when I see one. Nice to meet you, Captain Rogers.”

“Fellow Captain huh? You retired?” They shake hands.

“Been out for about three years now. Was ready for a slower pace ta life. This one definitely helped with that transition.” He nods his head towards you.

“I’m sure she did.” He smirks and sets off butterflies in your stomach. 

“You must be the God of Thunder himself. Nice to meet your acquaintance, your majesty.” Sy bows his head to Thor as you let out a giggle. Both from the action and from the fingers Bucky was softly teasing up your side.

“No need for all that. Thor is just fine, former paramour of my Queen’s. I agree with James. It is nice to put a face to the name we’ve recently heard about.”  He boasts in his usual jovial fashion.

He catches Brunhilde watching him with a lustful gaze at this point. “And who is this lovely woman?”

“Brunhilde. You did great work up there. I rather enjoyed it.”

She reaches out her hand and he grabs it to set a kiss upon her knuckles. “You’re very welcome.” 

Of course Sam just has to break the building sexual tension with his nosy ass tendencies. “I’d ask how you know Honey girl, but Nat filled us in on the jet about your prior friends with benefits status. So I’ll ask instead how ya’ll met?”

The glare you gave him could melt an iceberg.

Sy just shakes his head at your reaction. “I’m fine telling that story. But Imma need a seat and a drink to properly tell it.” He grabs a chair from a nearby table and spins it around so that he can straddle it with his massive thighs. Laying a thick forearm on the back he waves and shouts over at Calista the only bartender remaining. “Hey Darlin can you grab our usual? Make mine a double and bring a glass of water with Sugar’s Hot Toddy please. Thanks.”

Steve arches a brow and cocks his head to the side. “Sugar?”

Sy breaks out in a smug smile. “Yeah. That’s what I’ve always called her. Sweet as sugar. Wild as fire. I get why you lot and everyone else calls her Honey though. Be good to her and she gives you nothing but sweetness. Fuck with her and she’ll sting. It is what it is.”

You smile sweetly at him while all three of your men nod along to his reasoning as Calista places your drinks down and pats Sy on the shoulder. “Need anything else just let me know.” 

“Alright you’ve got your drink and a seat. Spill mountain man.” Sam impatiently rushes out. “I feel like this is a good story and I can’t wait to see Tin Man here squirm.” 

You just roll your eyes at his antics. 

Chuckling Sy begins. “Sugar and I met one night about two and a half years back. I was just six months out of the Army back then and trying to adjust to civilian life and all the excess down time I had. My friends dragged me out of my apartment to a bar called Loomis’ for the night. Apparently it was this crazy bar with 90s Horror memorabilia all over the walls and a huge picture of Billy Loomis from Scream licking food colored corn syrup from his fingers over the back of bar, where the all female bartenders, who were ‘fucking smoking’, would get up on the bar and dance throughout the night.”

You can’t help but chime in. “ My good friend and former dancer, Eli, owned it. She was short staffed and asked me to fill in since it was a busy night and I used to work there when I was broke and needed quick cash. I kind of missed the chaos so I agreed.” 

“Right. Well that little tidbit I did not know. Thanks Sugar. Anyways. I was enjoying my time and the place was packed. Somehow me and my buddys made it up close to the bar. Then I see this wild fire of a woman climb up on the bar with two of the other bartenders and point to the jukebox. I’m assuming security or someone else on staff, keys in a number and Joan Jett’s I Love Rock ‘N Roll starts playing. This little firecracker starts singing along and swaying her hips and putting on quite the little show with her fellow coworkers. I’m still not convinced nothing ever happened between the three of you.”

You burst out laughing. Almost choking on your drink. “The three of us? No. Me and T? The Tyra banks look alike? Oh yeah. Something happened between us before.” You send him a wink as Bucky lightly growls in your ear and pulls you tighter to his chest.

“See, I knew there was history there somewhere. Where was I? Oh. Yeah. While she was dancing on top of the bar with the girls, holding the whole bar's attention, some dumbass guy grabbed her ankle. When she went to kick him off, he just grabbed her harder. Which I assume is what made her lose her balance and start to fall into the crowd. Lucky for her I was up close and she landed right into my arms. She gave me this damn smile full of sugar and fire before opening that pouty mouth and blessing me with her speaking voice. If I remember correctly it was something along the lines of ‘My bearded knight. Will you excuse me one moment?’ To which I promptly set her down cus he looked like a woman on a mission.” 

“I most certainly was. Drunken asshole.” You’re getting fired up just thinking about the jerk that night.

Everyone is very into Sy’s telling of your first meeting. Curious to see what happens next.

“Well she proceeds to walk over to the asshole who grabbed her, who’s high fiving his friends, and taps him on the shoulder. This is what I hear…

“Hi. Remember me. The girl you just grabbed on the bar.” 

“Yeah baby. I was trying to get your attention. You looked like you’d be up for a dirty fuck in the bathroom.” 

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.” 

“Too bad” 

“Too bad what?” 

“That you wont be able to to fuck anybody for a while.” 

“What?” 

She then proceeds to knee him in the balls. As he bends over in pain cursing her out she leans in and tells him ‘Dont touch what does not belong to you.’ Then she cocks back and knocks him on his ass with a right hook.” Sy is laughing so hard there's tears coming out of his eyes.

The knowing looks on your men say it all though. They would have loved to watch you lose it like that. Dirty boys.

“He had it coming.” You impart with pride. He disrespected you and needed to be taught a lesson that would stick. 

“That he did Sugar. So she turns and walks back over to me all sweet as sugar again. Can’t even tell she just laid a grown man out and goes ‘Hi. You can call me Honey. Thank you for saving me from a losing battle with gravity. Next round is on me.’ Now she had no need to thank me but I wasn't going to turn down free booze from a pretty lady. I told her my name and we headed to the bar. Where I stayed until closing where she ended up pulling me into the backroom for a quick thank you blow job followed up by her continued thanks all night long back at her place. It was so damn good and I wasnt looking for anything serious at the time so we become fuck buddys.”

“Damn girl. I knew you were bad ass but seriously I underestimated you. You’re not fuck buddies now though. Why is that? And how did she get you this job?” Sam questions further.

“Christ Sam can you be any more fucking nosy? You guys don't have to answer that. He’s just trying to stir the pot and make Buck jealous or whatever.” Steve proclaims. 

“It’s fine Stevie. I have no shame. And neither does Sy. As far as getting him this job it was rather simple. I found out he could sing one night when I had actually stayed over because I knocked right out after our session. I got up because the bed was cold from him having left it. I assume his PTSD triggered a nightmare and I found him strumming his guitar while singing Elvis in the living room in the dark. I watched him for a bit before I joined in with a harmony and told him he should work at the club with me. It might be a good form of healing for him. And well, now he opened for the first time tonight.” You beam a radiant smile at him. So happy of the progress he’s made. 

“As for why we no longer have the benefits of our friendship, that’s easy. I don’t share. I am way too possessive and jealous of a partner. I knew if we continued on or took it further than fuck buddys I would just end up hurting her by holding her back. She’s not monogamous. And that’s okay. She should be allowed to love whoever and however many people she wants if everyone is happy. So we decided to step back from the sexual aspect of our relationship and never looked back. Plus the moment you two walked into this club with the red head and I saw the look in her eyes, I knew she was hooked before you even said hello. I wasn't going to stop that and I’m glad I didn't. I’ve never seen her so happy. So thank you for taking care of her like she deserves. I know she added you on a bit ago Captain Rogers but your included in my thanks as well.”

“Man ya’ll are no fun. Who would have thought the Viking looking former Captain would be all polite and thankful. This is bullshit.” Sam argues.

“I rather like them rough and strong on the outside, ready to take on any war. While being soft and humble on the inside. Makes for a devoted lover and warrior.  A rare find, even throughout the nine realms.” Brunhilde confesses while staring Sy deep in his eyes. 

“I’m going to go find my date and reclaim my dancing rights and maybe sing some karaoke. All you lovers enjoy yourselves.” Sam walks off to indeed find his date who he left with Sharon.

“Now that storytime is over and I’ve properly soothed my post show throat I am going to head to the dressing room and get out of this show garb and into something more comfy to party in. Don’t get into too much trouble trying to harass Sy boys.” You start to get off of Bucky's lap as he grips your hand.

“Actually sweetness, I need to hit the head so I’ll come with.” He pulls himself up and follows you out into the hall that leads to the dressing rooms and restrooms. 

You’re leaned over the vanity in your lingerie, one hand pressed against the surface and the other applying a fresh coat of crimson to your plump lips when you hear the door to the dressing room open. A normal occurrence around here. Plus you have nothing to be ashamed of, you know how this set makes your body look. 

At the dual sensation of warm flesh and cool metal you look up into the mirror to see a pair of Steel Gray eyes staring down at your thong and garter covered derriere between his palms. 

“See something you like, Sir?” You roll your hips slowly from side to side, watching his head follow the movement in the mirror.

“Oh sweetness. You know I do. A fucking garter belt. Are you trying to give Stevie and I a heart attack? After watching you perform like our own personal goddamn Billie Holiday I come to find you were hiding all this under that simple dress. You know how down right feral I can be babygirl. It’s taking everything I have not to ravage you right now.”

“Who on earth said you had to hold back, Sir? This Belle loves when her Beast loses control.”

That earns you a growl and a smack to your ass. “That fucking mouth. Always have something smart to say.” He leans in and wraps his flesh hand around your throat, feeling your pulse throb against his palm as he whispers in your ear. “There it is. That little spike of adrenaline. You enjoy being my prey don’t you babygirl? Bet your little thong is drenched already.”

He glides his hand down to the waistband of your panties and slips it inside, teasing along your weeping slit. “Mmm. That’s what I thought.” He spreads your slick around your folds, teasing your hood, before pulling his hand out and placing his shining fingers in front of your mouth.

“Open.” Your lips part automatically. “Clean them” Catching his eyes in the mirror you wrap your lips around his digits and suck them clean of your essence. “Good girl. Turn around.”

You rise up and spin to face him. He grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back, attacking you with a savage kiss. Taking your breath away. He quickly pulls back, releasing your hair. “Jump.”

As soon as your feet leave the floor, Bucky has your thighs in his grip and is moving towards the chaise along the wall. With the speed of a Super Soldier and the softness of a man in love, he deposits you on the cushions. Pushing your torso back against the pillows and pulling your hips to the edge.

He spreads your thighs wide. “Keep them there. Understand?”

You nod your head. “Yes, Sir.”

He bites his lip as he pulls your thong to the side and gets a look at your glistening cunt. “As much as I would love to take you apart piece by piece right here. There’s a party going on I know you want to enjoy. So for now, I’m just gonna get my fill of this sweet little pussy on my tongue.”

He plunges two metal fingers in right as he sucks your clit into his mouth. Not wasting any time with teasing. He wants your come spilling over onto his tongue as soon as possible. The way he’s devouring your pussy is nothing short of ferocious. Everytime he growls, it hits your clit like a vibrator set to pulse.

All you can do is run a hand through his hair and hold on tight. His metal fingers are zeroed in on that spongy sweet spot that makes you forget how to form words. 

“Come on baby. I can feel how close you are. Give it to me. Soak my fucking face.”

He increases the speed of his fingers and sucks your clit back into his mouth. 

You're so lost in your pleasure that you don’t hear the opening of the door as Sam walks in looking for the restroom. He stops in his tracks, shocked from the scene unfolding in front of him.

With a firm suck and a twitch of his fingers Bucky has you screaming out as you come on his tongue. Riding out your high on his face.

You hear a muttered “Nasty ass cant even wait til we get home to have his girl. Dirty old man.” before the shuffling of feet making a hasty retreat.

Removing his head from between your legs, Bucky quickly pulls himself out of his slacks and pushes into your still quivering walls, setting you off once more.

“Fuck babygirl. You feel so good squeezing my cock like that.” Without giving you much of a chance to adjust to his girth he sets a punishing pace. 

It’s quick and dirty and everything you were missing with him being gone on a mission. This was your favorite part of being with Bucky. When he just let go and let the Beast out. Taking what he wanted, when he wanted. 

You were nothing more than a whimpering and moaning mess as he pounded you into the chaise lounge. Your pussy clamping down on him once more as another intense orgasm took over your body. 

Being led by his instinctive need to breed you he pulls you up by the back of your head and bites down on your lip as his cock thickens and he releases rope after rope of seed deep inside you. 

As soon as he is spent, he collapses on top of you as you both try and catch your breath.

“Guess Sam will think twice before opening any random doors now huh Thor?” You hear the unmistakable voice of one Steven Grant Rogers.

“Serves him right, Captain. Although I quite enjoyed the show myself.” Thor answers.

“That was something special alright. Never knew you could lose it like that Buck. You were like some kind of wild beast.” Your Captain imparts with a look of awe on his face.

“Yeah, well you can blame it all on this Beauty. She’s the only one that can tame it as well as set it free without repercussions.” He looks upon you with nothing but love in his steel grays at his declaration.

“Well I love you and your beast.” You give him a gentle kiss. “Now can you please remove your heavy self from on top of me so that I can get dressed, reapply my lipstick and we can head back out to your friends. I’m officially off for the next week and I would like to start making use of it.”

“Of course sweetness. But you're walking around the rest of the night with my cum inside you. I don't care if it leaks into your thong. You are not to clean it up. You hear me?”

“Yes, Sir.” You quickly reply as he removes himself from inside you and puts your thong back in place. 

“Possessive bastard.” Steve laughs out as he walks towards the chaise to help you get up.

“Damn right I am. Even if I do share her with you two assholes.” You all laugh.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you dressed.”

With some help from your Captain, you successfully look put back together in your simple black sleeveless dress with hip high slits up the front. You’ve lost the bra but kept the garter belt and thong. You love the looks that cross your mens faces each time your garter is exposed as you walk and move around. 

Entering back into the main room your eyes instantly make contact with Nat on the dance floor, trying to get Banner to relax and move with her in more than just the swaying of middle schoolers at their first dance. The current music playing was no help either. Clearly a Guardian had requested some sick jams from the 80s. And while you had no problems rocking out with the best of them, this dress called for dancing and nothing was going to stop you from doing just that. 

As your men watch their friends making fools of themselves on the dance floor you make your way to the booth you all were at before. The same booth that Sy and Brunhilde were still sat, conversing and sharing a beer. 

“First off. That dress looks amazing on you B. Second, I’m going to need to steal Sy here for just a bit. You're more than welcome to join us of course if you don't wish to sit alone. I need him on stage to help me liven up this place to the correct level.” The grin that adorns your face can only be described as trouble. 

“Based on your own outfit change, I certainly wouldn't want to miss how you achieve that. I’m sure it has something to do with all those Siren like abilities of yours. I’ll make myself comfortable next to his majesty. That way you’ll know where to find me when you're done Sy and we can continue on with our night.” Brunhilde winks and grazes her palm against his chest as she saunters by on her way to stand with Thor. 

“Alright Sugar. I know that look. And I know that dress. What is it that you need me to do?”

“It’s simple really. I want to dance with my men and put a certain bird brain in his place as well. And I need you so I can do just that. Only you know just what to play to get this body moving.”

“That I do, Sugar. Leave it up to Dante and Me.” He kisses your cheek and proceeds to get up on stage and whisper into Dante’s ear before sitting in front of the piano. He begins to play Robin Thicke’s “Everything I Can’t Have”. Dante begins to deliver the smooth lyrics with all his latin flair.

Bucky wastes no time in pulling you out onto the dance floor and taking the lead in a salsa you’ve both done a hundred times before. The man really is a great dancer. You wink at Nat as you swing on by and notice Sam pulling his date close and trying to copy you and Buck. 

“Nice try Sammy but you're never going to best us. We’re not even trying.” You laugh out as you continue on having a good time with your favorite Sargent. 

Steve’s eyes have not left your figure as your lead around by his best friend. Shimmying and moving your hips to the beat, a smile plastered on your face. Now normally he would be content with just letting Bucky have his fun with you on the dance floor, but tonight he feels like showing off a bit himself. The White Wolf isn't the only one with skills on the dance floor. 

He moves across the dance floor, cutting around couples and spinning Nat as she dances past. Bucky, having noticed Steve’s approach, spins you out away from him. You feel a warm hand grasp yours and a commanding “Come here, Doll” as you're pulled close to Steve, who takes the lead, not missing a step. Bucky has disappeared in the crowd somewhere.

“I didn't know you could Salsa, Captain.” You smile up at him.

“I’m full of surprises sweetheart.” He winks as takes it up a notch, really showing off. You instinctively follow his lead as he manipulates your body to the beat. The whole room is captivated as you move across the dance floor like you’ve been dancing together like this for years. As the song crescendos he dips you low and slowly pulls your body back up to him as his nose traces your throat. You’re mesmerized by his ocean eyes for a moment before you smirk and turn to make your way back to Bucky.

Steve was having none of that though. He chases you, catching your hand and spinning you back into his chest where he plants a mind melting kiss on your lips. That’s when Sam and his date make their way over. You can't help but laugh at how hard he’s trying to hold it together that not one, but two old men put his dancing skills to shame tonight. 

You’re just so damn happy that you don't even care to embarrass him more. You continue to dance and follow Steve’s lead until the song ends and you're dipped once more. 

Safely back in Steve’s embrace you feel cool metal run down along your spine and a soft kiss against the nape of your neck before words are whispered in your ear. “I think it’s about time for us to continue this party somewhere private, babygirl. We’ve shared you long enough. There’s a car waiting out front for us. Time to say Goodnight to everyone.” 

“Yes, Sir.” You nod your head and make your rounds, saying goodbye to your friends as quickly as you can. Temperature rising as you feel three sets of eyes leaving heated trails all over your body.  

Thor is waiting by the door with your things. “Ready, My Queen? Barnes and Rogers are waiting in the vehicle for us”

“Let’s not keep them waiting longer than shall we, My King.” You place your hand in his as he escorts you to the waiting town car. 

The sexual tension between the four of you has hit its boiling point and toppled over as you make your trek back to the compound. Thank the Gods this particular town car had a partition or the driver would most certainly be getting an eye full. 

As it was, Bucky had his phone out, making himself a little home movie of the debauchery unfolding before him. 

You currently had your head in Thor’s lap, lips wrapped around his cock, bobbing along making quite a mess of his dress slacks. Your ass perched up in the air, dress thrown over your hips, stocking and garters on full display. Steve’s thick digits working their magic on your weeping little slit. 

He was pulling moans out of you that were vibrating around Thor’s dick lodged down your throat. To say you were on your way to cock drunk was an understatement.  

Right as you were about to fall apart on your Captain's fingers, the car slowed to a stop, signaling your arrival at the compound. Instead of letting you finish, Bucky turned off his phone, wrapped his metal fist in your hair and pulled you off of Thor and Steve, settling you in his lap. 

You whimpered at the loss of Steve’s fingers. You were so damn close to coming you were delirious.

“Don’t worry babygirl, you’ll get what you want and then some shortly. Thor, take our girl inside to Steve’s room while we deal with the driver. Keep her edged until we get there.”

He places a sweet kiss to your neck as Thor tucks his dick away and zips himself up before exiting the vehicle. 

You barely register it as you watch Steve clean your essence from his fingers. Eyes glazed over and breath hitching in your throat. You swallow when he pulls them free of his plush pink lips and winks at you. 

“Mmm mm mm. Never can get enough of your sweetness on my tongue, Doll.”

You feel yourself literally swooning in Bucky’s lap at Steve’s declaration.

With a nip to your jaw, Bucky brings you back to the world. “Don’t keep your King waiting, sweetness.”

You absentmindedly nod your head and place your hand in Thor’s waiting palm, allowing him to pull you from the car and lift you up into his arms in a bridal carry. 

Arms wrapped around his broad shoulders you can't help but to place kisses all along his jaw and neck as he walks through the compound. He almost doesn't get Steve’s door open when you run your tongue along his collarbone as he asks FRIDAY to be let in. 

“Fucking Vixen. What am I going to do with you, my Queen?”

Gazing into his baby blues with so much love and adoration you proclaim. “Why, whatever your heart desires, My King.” 

He walks into the bedroom and sits himself on the bed with you straddling his lap. Running your fingers through the loose strands of his golden hair you place a kiss on his forehead. “Hi, Puppy. I missed you.” 

Pulling your close in a tight embrace he kisses the dip between your collarbones. “As have I, my love.”

You lift his face to yours and give him a deep kiss. It starts out sweet and slow, but before long, it’s full of fire and heat. Hands roaming, removing clothing and hips grinding against each other. You raise up on your knees so that he can remove his pants and boxer briefs. 

Having discarded the garments, he pulls you back down onto his lap, barriers no longer in the way, to carry on with your heated makeout session. 

You can hear a door open and close, signaling the return of your other men, but you pay it no mind as you continue to lose yourself in the Golden God underneath you. 

“Would you look at that, she kept the stockings and garters on Buck.”

“That she did. She’s been such a good girl for us tonight without even trying. I think she’s earned herself a reward of her choosing. Would you like that babygirl?”

You remove your lips from Thor’s and turn to the brunette removing his shirt to your left. “Please, Sir. I would very much like that.”

“So polite too. Okay babygirl. What is it you would like?”

Glancing quickly at both Thor and Steve, you lock eyes with his steel grays. “I want to be surrounded in sunshine, Sir, with a white wolf chaser.” 

All three men groan out simultaneously.

Steve steps closer to you, places a finger under your chin and raises it to face him. “Surrounded in sunshine huh? Exactly who do you want where, Doll?”

“I want to ride my King while you fuck my ass from behind Captain.” 

“And where will I be, sweetness?” Bucky chimes in on your other side.

You turn to face him and lick your lips in anticipation. “Fucking my face of course, Sir. I want all my holes stuffed full. Need you all to use me for your pleasure. Please.” You can’t help but pout as you plead for what you want.

He runs his metal thumb across your bottom lip. “No need to pout babygirl. You’ll get what you want. Stevie, grab the lube I know you keep stocked in your nightstand. Thor, you heard what she wants. Let her ride that hammer of yours while Stevie preps her.”

“With pleasure.” Thor grabs your cheeks, pulling you away from Bucky’s fingers and placing his kiss swollen lips to yours as he lies back on the bed, taking you with him. “Show them just how worthy you are, My Queen.”

You grind down on his turgid length, coating him in the slick leaking from your slit until you feel the vibration of his growl against your peaked nipples as he stills your hips with one of his massive hands. With the other, he grabs his dick, teasing your clit with the tip, pulling a whine from you that is cut short as he lines up and thrusts, sinking his thickness deep inside you. 

Your head falls back and your spine arches as you push yourself up and undulate your hips, burying his cock even deeper. Three sets of lust blown eyes are following your every move as you swivel and bounce on Thor’s own mighty hammer. Losing yourself in the ebb and flow of your own little private show being put on for their eyes only. 

Worked up and ready to be inside you himself, Steve, having retrieved the lube and sufficiently coated himself in it, walks up to the edge of the bed. Placing a hand to the middle of your spine and a kiss behind your ear, he whispers his command. 

“You look so fucking sexy riding him, Doll. Be a good girl and lean forward for me so I can join in on the fun. You don't look stuffed enough yet.” The warm palm in the middle of your back helps push you down until you're laying flush with Thor’s chest.

He then proceeds to trail his lube covered fingers along your stretched out lips, gathering the slick that continues to pour out of you with one hand as the other grabs a cheek and spreads you out, exposing your puckered little hole. He runs his coated fingers around your hole teasingly before slowly adding more pressure until he is able to get first one, then two fingers inside you. Opening you up little by little as Thor shallowly thrusts inside you. 

“You’re doing so good sweetheart. I’m gonna add another finger. Open you up a bit further so you can take me nice and deep. Just focus on how good it feels, Doll.”

He works his third finger into you and proceeds to scissor them all and open you up further until you can take them with ease and are a whimpering mess on Thor’s chest. As he pulls them out, you whine at the feeling of emptiness left behind. 

He grabs a cheek in each hand and spreads you out as Thor stills inside you. Lining himself up he breaches your tight little hole. “Relax, Doll. Take a deep breath for me.”

You do as you're told and on your exhale your tight ring of muscle relaxes and Steve sinks in deep. “Fuck. So tight. How ya feeling Doll?”

You can feel the haze of overwhelming pleasure start to take over your body. Before you lose yourself to it you’re able to get a few words out. “Full, Captain. So full. Need Sir too.”

You hear a groan to the left of you from Bucky. “Oh babygirl. You’ll be getting me soon enough. Why don't you enjoy your golden boys for a bit. You know how much I love to watch you come undone.”

“Yes, Sir.” Those are the only words you are able to process and speak as Thor and Steve begin to pull out and thrust into you, never leaving you empty. As one retreats the other pushes in. It’s a rhythm that seems to be second nature to them at this point in your relationship. They all know how to play you like a well strung violin. Pulling moans, whimpers and orgasms from you like notes on a page. Creating songs and entire symphonies from your carnal passion. 

Your body is so keyed up and overloaded in pleasure that it doesn't take long before you are crying out and clenching down on the cocks lodged inside you as you fall over the edge into a blissful climax. Head buried in Thor’s chest as tears begin to flow from your eyes at the overwhelming ecstasy. 

“That’s it, my sweet. I love it when you squeeze me so tight, trying to milk my cock of it’s seed.” He lifts your head from his chest and places a tender kiss to your forehead as he, along with Steve, continue to slowly thrust into you, allowing you a moment of reprieve. 

He wipes a stray tear away with his thumb. “How are you feeling, My Queen?” 

You’re just coherent enough to get out a few words. “So good. Need more. Want Sir. More full. Please”

All three men chuckle at your clearly cockdrunk state. Thor turns to Bucky who is sitting beside him on the bed. “She wants her White Wolf chaser now Barnes. I think she’s more than earned it. Are you going to gift her with it?”

“I couldn't dream of denying her anything right now.” He pulls himself up until he is kneeling before you, cock level with your lips. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue automatically. “Fuck you want my cock bad dont you babygirl? Want me to fuck this pretty little mouth while Thor and Stevie continue to destroy your other little holes huh? Want cum filling up all three of them?”

Mouth still wide, you nod your head as you whimper and squirm, eliciting a growl from Thor and a slap to the ass from Steve. 

“Good. I’m not going to go easy on your sweetness. I’m too fucking worked up for that. I can’t guarantee how long I’ll last either because that mouth of yours is fucking dangerous. We’re gonna need you to just relax and let us use you babygirl. Take everything we give you like the good girl you are.”

You lock eyes with him as his flesh hand grabs a hold of your curls and pulls you towards his angry leaking tip. You give it a quick teasing lick before he slides across your tongue and thrusts deep into your throat. 

You moan out around his length as you finally feel full and stuffed to the brim. You breathe in through your nose and your body goes pliant as bliss takes over you. 

As soon as they all feel your body relax they begin to move. Thor and Steve continue their back and forth rhythm as Bucky sets a pace of his own. What starts out leisurely, quickly becomes deep and hard. The temp increases and before you know it you're screaming out around the dick lodged in your throat as you come apart.

As your pussy and ass squeeze around your golden boys they start to lose their rhythm. Pounding into you erratically as they chase their own highs. Sending you further into your pleasured high, moaning and whimpering around Bucky as he too begins to thrust erratically into your mouth. 

“Fuck. That’s it babygirl. Take my cock. I’m so fucking close. Gonna paint those tonsils white and you're gonna swallow every last drop.” 

At Bucky’s words you clench around Thor and Steve, setting off a frenzied pace in the both of them as they ride the knife's edge of their own orgasms. 

“Fuck Buck, you make her clench around me like that again and her mouth wont be the only thing getting filled.” Steve grits out.

“I agree with Steven. I am close to spilling my seed deep inside her as well.”

Having them talk about filling you up is the spark that lights the match on the fire that is your impending orgasm. You detonate in a blaze of pleasure, almost blacking out from the sheer force of it, taking all three of them along with you.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” It’s Steve who loses it first, hips stuttering until they still with his pelvis smashed to your ass as he groans and empties his balls into your abused little hole. Gripping your ass cheeks so hard you're sure he left bruises behind.

As he begins to pull out his softening cock, pucker clenching trying to pull him back in, Bucky lodges himself in your throat and holds you head steady as he makes good on his promise and coats your tonsils white. “Take it all sweetness. I don't want a drop wasted.” He pulls out once he’s finished and watches on with awe as you swallow every pearly white drop he gave you and present him with an empty throat and tongue.

He pulls you into an intense kiss just as Thor explodes inside of you. You throw your head back and writhe on your King, as he shoots rope after rope of his Godly seed deep into your womb, setting off a minor orgasm in its wake. “Can’t get enough of filling you up. Especially when it sets you off again like that. Come on, my Queen. Milk your King dry.”

He pulls himself up into a seated position and grips your hips as he plunges deeper into your cavern and guides your clit along his pelvis until you come one last time for him, biting down on his shoulder as you convulse in his lap. 

You feel cool metal fingers dance along your spine as you come down from your final high. You move your head to the side so that you can look upon the satisfied face of the Winter Soldier. “There she is. Hi babygirl. Feeling a little floaty?” You just nod your head. 

“Okay. Steve went to run you a bath. Would you like that sweetness? To let us get you all cleaned up in the bath while you come back to earth?” You nod your head again. 

“Alright baby. I’m gonna go help Stevie. Thor will bring you in when we’re ready for you. Just relax with your King okay babygirl?” He kisses your forehead.

“Okay Sir.” You burrow yourself further into Thor’s chest as Bucky heads into the ensuite. 

You listen to the steady beat of Thor’s heart as the fog begins to lift from your brain. Rubbing small circles onto your hips you find yourself almost lulled to sleep until Thor speaks. “Do you want me to remove myself from inside you my Queen? Or are you content warming my cock?”

“Mmm. Keep cock warm until bath.” Is your half lucid response. 

He chuckles and kisses your head. “Cockwarming it is then.”

You once again find yourself tittering on the edge of consciousness when Steve emerges from the ensuite to let you both know that the bath is ready. 

Thor proceeds to stand from the bed with you in his arms, still connected at the pelvis and walk into the bathroom.

“Come on, my sweet. Let’s get you all cleaned up and then you can fall to the whims of sleep and dream away the night.”

You awake the next morning surrounded in heat thanks to Steve and Thor wrapped around either side of you and Bucky using your stomach as a pillow, complete with a metal arm draped over your thigh. As great as being surrounded in their warmth felt, you had a very full bladder due to the two glasses of water that Thor made sure you drank last night during aftercare. 

Extracting the pillow from beneath your head, you slowly place it under Bucky’s head and oh so carefully finagle your way out of the pile of muscled bodies that surround you to make your way to relieve your bladder. 

Once your business is taken care of, you pad into the walk in closet, headed to the section that Steve dedicated for you. Comfort is key after a night like you had so you proceed to grab your Harley Quinn boyshorts, a pair of white knit leg warmers and an oversized gray sweater. Quickly tossing them on, you grab the empty glass from the nightstand and head out to the common room kitchen, food the only thing on your mind. 

Taking your time and strolling along the hall you find Sy coming out of Brunhilde’s favored room at the compound. Seems someone spent the night here himself. You just laugh and lift your hand for a high five, which he gives you after shaking his head at your antics. “Morning Grumpy Bear. Come on, let’s go make breakfast for our sleeping partners and most likely the rest of the compound. These heroes can really put it away and we both know you love to throw down in the kitchen.”

With little convincing Sy follows you into the kitchen where you begin the practiced dance of making a meal, having done this many times together before. It’s comfortable. 

You let a whole five minutes go by before you start grilling him on his late night activities. 

“So how was the warrior sex?” He just raises a brow at you. “I imagine her intensity is as strong as yours. I think she may just be as possessive as you, if not more. This is gonna be so much fun for me. I can not wait to watch you fall for a Valkyrie! She’s going to eat you alive. Muahahahaha.''

“Sure you're not just jealous Sugar? I remember the type of women you used to bring with you or made us look for when you needed a little something extra.” He smugly states. 

He’s not wrong, B is definitely your type. That being said, so is Nat, who you’ve hooked up with in the past  when you were doing burlesque and Nat was working undercover at your club. None of the Avengers are aware of that fact though, as far as you know. 

Just as you're about to retort, the red head you were just reminiscing about in your head, saunters into the kitchen, along with the rest of the team and your men following in between them. 

You catch eyes with the Widow and notice the little smirk plastered on her face. “I know that satisfied look. You have a good night Nat?” You slyly impart.

“You would know, wouldn't you Honey girl, seeing as how your tongue has put it there before.” She just winks at you as she drops that bomb. Grabbing a piece of bacon as she sits herself at the table.

Over half the room is staring slack jawed between the two of you. 

“Whoa whoa whoa. You’ve had a night with the black widow and survived?” Sam, the first to shake out of his shock, blurts out.

Nat quickly corrects him. “Nights. She was mine for an entire week. She looks particularly gorgeous all bound in rope and lust drunk. No way I was only having that once.”

Bucky is all the more intrigued at this recent revelation. He knew you were not shy in bed and had no problem exploring his kinks with him. Burlesque was something new that he needed to see for himself. “Burlesque sweetness? Were you dancing or singing?”

Nat answered before you could. “She did both. A vixen on the stage, as always. Made my job easier when she was hypnotizing the marks with her Siren ways.” 

“Was that the fact finding mission at A Fall From Grace?” Nat nods at Steve in acknowledgment. “I was wondering what took you so long to complete it.”

“What can I say? She had me swayed with her crazy ways.”

“Crazy ways? What kind of bullshit is that?” Sam, ever the party pooper, chimes in.

“Those were my Quinzel days. Lots of black and red latex and leather. Oh and the best part…my hammer. Well it was more like a mallet but still. I had a whole Morticia Adams and Ghost face routine too. I was the resident creepy queen. My shows could get a little messy.” You boast with a saccharine sweet smile adorning your face as you place the last plate on the table.

“Enough about my past with Nat. Now dig in so I can bombarded you with questions of how the rest of your nights went. I know more than just Sy and B had to have got some.”

“What?!” The table collectively gasps out.

“Why else would he be here helping me make breakfast after they were giving each other fuck me eyes all night. Did you think he came here to join the four of us for a round in bed?” You shrug.

“Yes, actually. That’s exactly what I thought.” Tony exclaims. 

You just start hysterically laughing as Sy turns to you. “Are they always like this?”

“With no filter? Sadly, yes. But thankfully for you, B lives on New Asgard and isn't here that often, so if you continue on whatever path it is you two may be going you’ll be spared most of the time.” You pat him on his bearded cheek.

He glances over at Brunhilde, across the table from him and smiles. “Deal.”

“Oh this is gonna be fun to witness.” Nat chuckles out.

“That’s what I said!” You rush out.

“Alright Sugar. Time to eat up and start questioning someone else.” He places a slice of bacon in your mouth to shut you up.

You chew on the salty goodness as you gaze around the table, eyes landing on Sam. “So Sammy? You finally seal the deal with your date or did losing to Bucky doom your fate?”

“You know what you little shit stirrer? I’ll have you know that I am a gentleman and that was only our second date so I didn't push it.”

“So what you're saying is, no. No, you didn't get laid last night. If I knew losing was going to affect you so badly I would have gone easier on you last night.” Bucky relays with the smuggish look on his face.

“Fuck you man. I can beat you any day of the week. You got lucky last night.” An annoyed Sam announces to the table.

“Sure, pal. You heard him Stevie. He spent the night alone in his bed. Pay up.” Steve begrundley reaches into his sweats pocket, pulls out a fifty from his money clip and slaps it onto Bucky's metal palm.

The table erupts in laughter and more money passes hands, as a shocked Sam sits, mouth agape, realizing his closest friends bet against his sex life.

He quickly stands up. “Fuck all ya’ll. Not everyone are sex fiends who can't keep it in their pants.” Grabbing his plate he storms out into the hall.

You yell out behind him. “It’s okay, Sammy. Some of us are just late bloomers.” 

The table erupts in laughter once more.

Notes:

1. Haley Reinhart "Dream a Little Dream of Me" (video is no longer on youtube) 2. Hit ‘Em Up Style (Oops!) - Blu Cantrell (Ella Fitzgerald Style Cover) ft. Olivia Kuper Harris 3. All of Me - Vintage Soul John Legend Cover ft. Kiah Victoria 4. Shoop - Salt-N-Pepa (‘50s Little Richard Style Cover) ft. Tia Simone 5. Love On The Brain - Rihanna (Piano & Vocal Cover) ft. Kaeyra 6. Billie Holiday - It Had To Be You (Clef Records 1955) 7. Still Into You - Paramore ('40s Swing Cover) ft. Maris 8. I Put A Spell On You - Nina Simone

If you made it to the end, THANK YOU! If you liked it please feel free to let me know (but it's not required); and if you didn't, that's okay too, I still thank you for even giving it a chance.

[maddiviner]

How would one perhaps cast a glamourbomb?

Note: This article describes some stuff people did in the past. It’s not safe or wise to do that kind of thing nowadays, if it ever truly was. I don’t recommend engaging in these activities, but wanted to answer this anyways. The word itself made me nostalgic, but conflicted? Yeah.

Glamourbombs, at least as I know the term, aren’t spells in the traditional sense. They are (were, more like) magical performance pieces. They touch the “mundane” world with some sort of occult interjection. This was (perhaps thankfully) most common in places where the veil between “mundane” and “weird” was already thin: libraries, universities after midnight, anime conventions, places like that. While I don’t doubt people still do this today, the trend was at its peak around the turn of the century.

At the time, I was in middle school. As the Millennium (holy f**king s**t! its Y2K!) approached, the apocalypticism wasn’t just limited to the Christian kids. Those of us who weren’t Christian or just came from more secular families still saw things like hysteria about Y2K glitches and especially climate change. A lot of that was pretty scary to us, especially considering some of our more fundamentalist-minded neighbors were saying the world was going to end and “Jesus was coming back.”

It wasn’t so much that we believed them. We just knew, even as kids, that the scientists weren’t lying about the climate data. We also knew that people were acting really irrationally, whatever their reasons. This fit in well with the notion that some big change was coming. Maybe it wasn’t the Christian apocalypse, but could it be something? Plenty of adults seemed to think so, too.

Online, and in our own (burgeoning) occult spaces, we had our own spin on things. Allegedly, by glamourbombing, we were helping, in some small way, to enchant this increasingly hostile mundane world. Because, as teens and tweens growing up on White Wolf, Captain Planet and Square Enix, we clearly knew what was best for reality!

We had every right to (at least try to) impose it on the rest of the world at every chance. Right? Right?

We’d all read at least two books on witchcraft from Barnes and Noble, too.

In some scenarios of glamourbombing, the point was just to make people going about their day pause for a few seconds, think “Hmm? Cool!” and go on about their lives, hopefully in a better mood. These were usually simple things like flyers seeking a “LOST UNICORN,” a notice that you’re entering a “PIXIE-FREE ZONE,” silly things like that. You still see stuff like this today and (if it’s well-designed) it makes people smile and nothing more.

Other glamourbombs had more complexity. They (sometimes) included a bit of magical technique - an active hypersigil, for example.

When pen drives grew in popularity, they became common tools for glamourbombing, with people filling the drives with “magical” material and leaving them (usually conspicuously) somewhere, like a library.

These hypersigils might take the form of experimental music MP3s, animated loops, even actual .EXE files (supposedly). I don’t know whether anyone was bold or foolish enough to click on something like that, of course.

I was barely in my teens, and definitely still sorting things out when it came both to my personal beliefs and perspective on wider community issues like this. Even then, though, I knew not to click any weird .EXE files.

The larger problem, in case you couldn’t tell?

A lot of this straight-up ignores issues like bystander consent from a magical perspective and, y’know, the problems that can arise from leaving weird/unexpected things in public places.

Also? In case you’re not keeping track, I’m talking about the 2000s here. Early 2000s. As in directly after 9/11. Not exactly a wonderful time to be running around acting weird in public and dumping strange packages. Not a safe or wise thing to be doing. Some people got a tag on that early on and quit such shenanigans.

In the summer of 2003, I attended a summer program for “gifted” 🙄 kids where I took the course focused on Greek mythology. The motley pack of metaphysically-inclined nerds I met there thought glamourbombing was tragically cool, of course. We had all kinds of ideas about “Lost Pegasus” flyers and other Greek mythology-themed things. Thankfully nothing that would’ve been too harmful. We ended up being too shy and busy with schoolwork to actually do any of it.

Sadly, later on, there were some attempts by groups (some of which I’d call cult-like) to recruit using this kind of thing. I won’t name anything that’d put me on anyone’s radar (hopefully), but I remember reading about some of it.

One particularly unpleasant and notorious use of this technique occurred on the west coast in the late 2000s when a cult set up an “art installation” in public featuring a live rat in a maze and some other random detritus. The rat didn’t freeze to death despite cold temperatures, thankfully.

Incidents like that (which was, of course, reported as a bomb scare) probably helped to put a stop to the glamourbombing trend. After all, if you’re (supposedly) after some kind of mind-liberating mass reenchantment of reality, well, nothing could be worse than the whole bomb squad showing up, right?

As the digital age crept on, I think people started to reevaluate attention’s role as a commodity. It’s really easy to get attention if you want it, as things like the “rat in a maze” exhibit (which made the papers) show.

You can’t control what kind of attention you’ll get, though, and you can’t say for certain that what you’re doing won’t have unintended consequences for other people. With that in mind, something like glamourbombing doesn’t seem very responsible, especially right now.

I guess the concept isn’t irredeemable. As recently as 2018, I was posting on Facebook looking for someone to help me slay the green dragon that sometimes lands in the field near the Taco Bell by the highway.

Little pranks and jokes like that can brighten everyone’s mood sometimes. There’s certain contexts, though (my Facebook feed, for example) where it might be appropriate, and others where it wouldn’t.

And the full-on concept of a glamourbomb, designed to “spread magic in the mundane'' with an active sigil of some sort, etc? Hard pass. Doesn’t seem ethical to me nowadays.

And, of course, it’s generally a bad idea to do anything that might be mistaken for a bomb threat.

[lazywriter7]

Cap-Ironman Rec Week - Take A Chance On Me Sunday

I’m a firm believer that good writing and a long enough wordcount can sell me on anything... which is why this list was hard, because I read coffee shop and Hogwarts AUs to major character death, twice over. But I think we’ve come up with some fun stuff to rec nonetheless -  Same old story. by orphan_account “We’re toasting our regrets,” Tony explains. “Your turn." “Oh,” Steve says. It takes him a long minute to think of something. Or, more likely, it takes him a long moment to work up the courage. But then he turns and raises his bottle to Tony. Looks him dead in the eyes, a sad, sort of wistful smile on his face, and says, “You.” Notes: On a list of era preferences, post-Endgame is usually not super high for me, and this fic is the Most Endgame. It’s compliant with Steve’s ending Endgame. And yet I enjoyed it so very much because it gave me a SteveTony ending without necessarily going back on their past loves and choices, it talks to regret without actually rewriting it, and I very, very much recommend it. such a devotion of the heart by  drunkonwriting Persuasion AU. Tony is a disillusioned heir on the outs with his wealthy, spend-thrift father, trying to finish his master's degree so he can work on engineering instead of joining the House of Lords. When he has to return home to prepare his family house to be rented, he doesn’t expect the new tenants to be Bucky Barnes and his new wife - old friends of Tony’s spurned ex-fiancé, Captain Steve Rogers. Tony, still heart-broken over their falling out, has no intention of meeting Captain Rogers again if he can help it. Captain Rogers has other plans. Notes: I don’t always click on WIPs, which is mighty hypocritical of me, and Persuasion is... mumbles someofmyleastfavouriteAusten. This fic, however, does address some of the things I don’t always enjoy about the original plot, and the liveliness and detail in the writing and characterisation is more than worth it not being complete yet... so go and shower it with love! how much i’ve been touching you by isozyme Steve loves Tony, but not enough to listen about the SRA. He loves Sharon, but not enough to stop coming to Tony late at night. Notes: Oh boy. Infidelity is one of those very, very few tags I avoid, but I’ve loved all of this author’s other work, so gave this one a shot. It’s brutal, ugly and unpleasant, which is exactly the way I’m supposed to feel, and so very, very well done. The excellent prose -  Rain sluices down Tony’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Every so often the wind shifts, and the downpour slams into the glass mid-fall like an open-handed slap. - accentuates every emotion the reader is meant to feel, so if you’re in the right mood for it, this is a highly impactful read. Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies by MemoryDragon Seven-year-old Tony Stark wakes up on a Hydra base, lost, afraid, and alone. He has to overcome his fears before it's too late for the Avengers and Captain America. Notes: Character de-aging is something that can be hit-or-miss for me, but this one is a classic. By the very nature of the premise and how much time Tony spends as a seven year old, it’s more pre-slash though Steve/Tony is tagged, but watching Steve and the Avengers match their expectations of who they think Tony is versus who they see in his younger self, makes for quite the satisfying read. The Time of the Season by  WhenasInSilks Iron Man shuffles his feet and clears his throat in a burst of static. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here. Doesn’t matter the reason.” For one wild moment Steve actually considers it. Surely if he can tell anyone, it’s Iron Man? Iron Man would never shrink away, would never laugh at him. But what could he possibly say? Actually, Shellhead, I just pulled myself off three times in the past hour and I was thinking about your boss the entire time. Actually, Shellhead, I’m a science experiment they let out of the lab too soon and I think I might be going out of my mind. Notes: This is another one of those WIPs that is completely worth the read and subscribe, because identity porn oh myy :D The author takes the secret identities of Tony Stark and Iron Man and pushes them to the farthest extremes, till it’s incredibly entertaining and somewhat disconcerting and the amount of sheer pining that exists in one room is surely enough to kill us all of delight. A Fool's Name For Fate by  elise_509 It’s 1949. Hollywood’s system of powerful studios and contract stars is fading fast as a new decade looms. Tony Stark thinks he’s just the type of forward-thinking, madcap genius that can solve the dream factory’s woes, and maybe he can. If not for a certain distraction named Steve Rogers, the golden boy who should clearly be twenty-feet high on the silver screen yet seems determined to stay hidden behind the scenes. Tony’s used to getting what he wants, but now he’s not sure what that is. Or rather, who that is. Notes: More WIPs that deserve love! The premise is so captivating, and the writing even more so. I love the period it’s set in, I love how Tony and Steve fit into it and the roles they play, as well as the way they play off each other, and the sheer pleasure I got from the 70k words I gobbled down is definitely worth holding out for an ending.  And that’s all for today. Go take a chance on reading something you normally wouldn’t!

[lilredniki]

I promise

Prompt: We’ll get through this, I promise

Character: Steve Rogers

Steve and (Y/n) sat in the hospital room next to (Y/n)’s dying cousin.

“So did they say anything?”

“No. All I know is someone hit us in his car head on and then they ran on foot.”

Steve pulled her into a hug.

“I’m sorry doll. I wish I could take the pain away.”

(Y/n) cried into his shoulder.

“It’s not fair.”

“I know.”

The doc came in to check on them.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“No thank you.”

The doc left and Steve gave her time.

He walked to the cafe and go them each a coffee and a muffin.

He went back to the room and noticed more people.

“He wouldn’t have been in that car if you hadn’t called him!”

“Why is it that you’re not the one in a hospital bed! You were there too!”

Steve walked in.

“Here’s your coffee dear.”

Her family froze.

“Thank you Steve but I think it’s time I leave.”

(Y/n) got up and walked out.

“So, she’s dating Captain America.” her aunt said.

“How’d she rope you in? Tell you she’s a good lay and then tell you she’s carrying your kid?”

Steve glared at them.

“For your information sir, I have been dating your niece for 4 years. The reason your son was in the car with her was because she called us both after her abusive ex tried to rape her again. I went after him and he’s in jail right now. He’s the one who hit them so I suggest you start treating her with more respect or you will have nothing to do with your great-nephew.”

They glared at him.

“So the little slut is carrying your kid.”

Steve turned to the older brother.

“No. The little boy growing in her is the result of that asshole raping her 4 months ago. And just for that, I expect you to pay the person who is covering the medical bills back.”

With that Steve walked out.

He found (Y/n) sitting on a bench outside smoking.

“What took so long?”

Steve sat next to her. “I told them off and said they need to pay me back for the medical bills.”

“You’ll never see it.”

Steve kissed her cheek.

“I know. I didn’t do it for them.”

“Thanks babe. For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me (Y/n).” Steve said rubbing her back. “You’re my girl.”

(Y/n) nodded.

“Also, they are not allowed near you or our boy.” Steve put his hand on her barely there bump. “We’ll get through this, I promise.”

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Mother (2023)

The best thing about The Mother is that it gives Jennifer Lopez the chance to play a diffent character than we're used to seeing from her. Turns out she can handle the action thriller stuff pretty well. The film itself is unfortunately more or less what we’ve come to expect from a streaming platform original. It’s well made but ultimately, generic and unmemorable. More content than passion project.

An unnamed U.S. military operative (Jennifer Lopez, whose character is only credited as “The Mother”) gives up her newborn daughter after becoming an informant for the FBI. Initially she was happy to work - and become romantically engaged with - Ex-SAS Captain Adrian Lovell (Joseph Fiennes) and arms dealer Hector Álvarez (Gael García Bernal) but once she found out they were involved in child trafficking, she double-crossed them. Now, they want her dead and no one is safe. Twelve years later, “The Mother” is a recluse living in Alaska when Special agent William Cruise (Omari Hardwick) approaches her. Zoe (Lucy Paez) has been captured by Álvarez's men to draw out their real target. It's a trap, but "The Mother" has no choice.

I can see why the film chose not to give Lopez’s character a name. “The Mother” cares about Zoe but she has no idea how to show it; she’s cold and the only parenting she manages to do is teach the girl extreme survival skills like shooting, trapping, and carving up game once it becomes clear Zoe will have to defend herself from the bad men. "The Mother" was the kind of person who pursued romance once upon a time but now, that’s all gone. Even to her friends, she’s distant. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure what's the cause. Giving up her daughter, maybe? Anyway, in execution, the choice not to give her a name makes for some clunky, carefully phrased dialogue. It’s not the only awkward choice. Omari Hardwick’s character is critical to the plot, until about halfway through when he gets dropped and essentially replaced by Zoe. While it’s an unpredictable turn, it minimizes the human connections between our protagonist who, unfortunately, you have a hard time becoming endeared towards. She came to the authorities and said something when she found a shipping container full of children. Cool. Before then, she was selling mines and guns to the kind of people that would round up said children though, so it’s not like she's fully redeemed yourself in our eyes. Even when “The Mother” goes after the men who kidnapped Zoe, it feels like she’s doing it for selfish reasons because she is so unemotional during the whole thing.

On the upside, you hate the villains and seeing them get taken out is satisfying. The “boss battles” are fun - in a nasty sort of way - and varied enough so that seeing "The Mother" and Special agent Cruise take baddies out never gets old. There’s plenty of tension throughout, particularly during the climax. The story moves at a good pace and it's never boring.

The price you're paying for admission to see The Mother - which is essentially nothing since you're already subscribed to the streaming service - is perfect. It's not a bad movie. It's just not memorable. As an action thriller you can throw on the TV to pass some time, it will keep you entertained. I mean that in a good way. (June 10, 2023)