“On April 21, 1967, the 100 millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville — a blue two-door Caprice. There was a big ceremony, speeches; the lieutenant governor even showed up.
“Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have, because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car — no, the most important object — in pretty much the whole universe.”
A/N: Man, oh man. I just can’t stay away from writing, can I? Well, at least majority of my holiday stuff’s packed. This is another fic inspired by a conversation with the lovely @chrisevans-imagines We have some very weird, but oddly inspiring conversations. Don’t we, Ava? 😂
You pushed your way through the crowd as you searched the overly packed party for your best friend, Chris, who had drunkenly called you ten times in the last hour; it was 2:19AM. He could count himself incredibly lucky that you were finishing up some paperwork at the hospital otherwise you would’ve killed him for interrupting your much needed beauty sleep. You’d been pulling quite a few late nights over the past week as you were about to take leave and go on your holiday, so things hadn’t been particularly easy on you. But you knew before you went into med-school that being a doctor wasn’t going to be easy, what you didn’t know was how much harder it was being a doctor who was best friends with Chris Evans; a man who had the equivalent energy of his puppy, Dodger. If you weren’t so in-love with him, he wouldn’t get away with half the things he put you through. But you were, so here you were at the party.
“Hello beautiful.” An arm hooked around your waist and pulled you into him; you groaned and pushed the drunken stranger off you. “Geez, lighten up!” He called after you as you disappeared further into the room. If you didn’t find Chris in the next five minutes, you were outta there.
“Hell yeah I’ll get it in!” You heard Chris’ voice and you followed it, chuckling when you found him by the ping pong table. “Don’t you worry, I'mma get it into that cup.” He bounced the ball off the table and balanced it on the back of his hand as he swallowed another gulp of his beer. “Watch me nail this th-” He spotted you and his smile tenfold. “Y/N, you came!” He downed his drink and tossed both ball and red solo cup aside before making his way to you, waving off the protests that came from the other players. “Sorry guys, I’m done. My girl’s here,” he draped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him.
“I’m not your girl, Evans.” You reminded him, but made no effort to push him away from you like you had with the other guy; you were very glad that the dim lights hid your deeply flushed cheeks. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t drink and drive, the last thing I need is to be called back in because someone got into a car accident.”
“Awww,” he cooed, squeezing you tightly against him. “Was someone worried about little old me?” You rolled your eyes, but failed to hide your smile. “Don’t be, my best friend’s a very good doctor. She’s very pretty too, like- she could be on Grey’s Anatomy.” He slurred then grinned when he heard you chuckle. “And that’s you,” he booped your nose, “I’m talking about you.”
“I know, and I’m talking about me too when I say I’ve had a very long night and I’m ready to go home.” He nodded with furrowed brows, really trying to process your words. “C'mon,” you wrapped an arm around his waist and directed him towards the exit, “you’re crashing at my place tonight. I’m not leaving you here when someone could literally tap beer out of you.”
“Yes!” He cheered. “I love your apartment, it smells like Christmas because of all the candles you have.” You hummed in acknowledgement at his drunk thoughts. “Hey, you know what’s really funny?” He didn’t wait for a response. “When I read your texts, I read it in an Australian accent because you’re from Australia. I do the same with Chris Hemsworth’s,” he told you then laughed to himself. “G'day mate,” he mimicked a tradition Australia greeting then laughed again.
“I’ve never once texted that to you, nor have I said that to you,” you chuckled. “And since when do I have an Australian accent? I’ve been living in America since I was eighteen, and you know I watch too much American television and too many Hollywood films to have an Australian accent.” The two of you found your way out of the party and into the much emptier parking lot where you car waited patiently. “But then again,” you glanced at him, “you are very wasted, so I won’t hold that against you.”
“Chuck a shrimp on the barbie,” he continued mocking the Australia accent and laughed when you did. “You’re right,” he returned to his normal accent as he pulled away from you, “you don’t sound like that.” He moved in front of you and took your hands in his, smiling like a love sick idiot which made your heart flutter despite knowing it didn’t mean what you wanted it to. “You sound perfect because you are perfect and I love you.”
“I love you too,” you responded with a chuckle, ignoring that ache in your heart. This wasn’t the first time he’d told you he loved you while he was drunk, in fact- he said it all the time when he was sober too. But it wasn’t the confession you longed for, it was just another platonic expression of affection that you shoved aside with your true feelings. “Let’s get you in bed, shall we?” You tried to pull your hands away only to have him tightened his grip.
“No,” he shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. “You don’t understand, Y/N. I love you,” he said again in a more serious tone that made you sigh. As much as you wanted to reciprocate that feeling and kiss him, you couldn’t take anything he said seriously when he was drunk. Even if you did believe that drunk minds spoke for a sober heart, it was Chris; he was your best friend and you couldn’t ruin that friendship over a drunken slur of the moment. “I want to be with you,” he told you and pulled his hands away to cup your face.
“Chris, no,” you turned away when he started to lean in, taking a small step back. “We’re not going to do this.” You frowned when he did. “You’re drunk, I don’t want-” you cut yourself off before you said more than you should. “Let’s just go home, okay?” You brushed past him and headed for you car, stopping when he called out.
“I’m sober enough to have this conversation!” He walked in front of you with a frown on his face. “I’ve been trying to tell you I love you since the moment I met you, Y/N. But you keep brushing me off, like you think I’m not worth your time.”
“Chris-” you couldn’t believe you made him feel that way.
“Am I not good enough for you?” He asked then asked again before you could get a word in, “are you holding out for another doctor?” You opened your mouth to speak only to get cut off again, “what is it, Y/N? Why won’t you give me a chance?!” He growled and you flinched. “I don’t understand,” he shook his head, his pretty blues glistened with tears. “I’m not an idiot- I can see the way you look at me, so why won’t you be with me?”
“Chris,” you sighed as you took his hand in yours. “I didn’t know you felt that way about me, I honestly thought that you were fine with us just being friends.” He didn’t say anything, he just squeezed your hand ever so gently. “That’s why I didn’t say anything- that’s why I brushed you off. I figured you were joking, it’s not because I don’t think you’re worth my time.”
“Do you realize how long I’ve been waiting for you?” He asked with a breathless chuckle. “From the moment we met- I’ve wanted to be with you. I was just so terrified I wasn’t good enough, that you wouldn’t want to be with an actor so- I took it slow, I started out by being your friend. But God,” he started to cry and your heart ached, “it hurt seeing you with other people. It sucked saying I love you when you didn’t know how much,” his hand tightened around yours. “I’ve wasted so much of my life not being your other half and I hate it, Y/N.”
“You are my other half, Chris,” you caressed his face with your other hand and brushed the tears rolling down his cheek. “I love you too. I’m so in-love with you that it’s ridiculous,” you told him and he smiled. “There is no one I’d rather see at the end of the day than you. You are my person, you are all I see when I look towards the future,” you assured him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I’m sorry-” He pulled you into his arms and kissed you, cutting you off in the best possible way.
“Wow,” you let out a breathless laugh when he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.
“Yeah,” he chuckled softly, rubbing small circles into your sides, “I should’ve done that years ago.”
“I remember how I hated them. Because they hated me. And I couldn’t understand why. I wondered why I even existed. That’s when I found out I had this demon inside me. It wasn’t my fault, but everyone acted as if it was. That just made it worse. But then… a few people came along who paid attention to me. That made it better. It was alright then, even though I had this monster inside me. Even though everyone else acted like I didn’t exist. Because I wasn’t alone anymore. For the first time in a long time, I was happy again. Really, really happy. They made me remember how good life could be. They made me glad to be alive. But when I think back to where I was before I met them, it’s scary. Nothing but pain and darkness. What would I be like if I stayed there? All alone. That’s how come I can understand him.”
— N a r u t o U z u m a k i
Note: I don’t think we give enough credit to Naruto—or at least, not at this point in time. This was Naruto reflecting on his life after meeting Gaara, after seeing how similar their situations were yet how drastic their outcome.
Naruto may not have a high cognitive intelligence, but his emotional intelligence goes above and beyond the norm. Emotional intelligence refers to a person’s ability to perceive, control, evaluate, and express emotions. Research has found that individuals with strong leadership potential also tend to be more emotionally intelligent—which just supports even further why this unpredictable hyperactive ninja became Hokage.
I know at this time we found it really amusing that he always stated, “I’m gonna be Hokage someday!” and assumed that obviously the show was going to end with that because of the efforts he put to get there, but I think it’s really important to note how Naruto was such a great candidate for that position because of this inherent quality.
I read somewhere how when encountering a person who is extremely unstable mentally or otherwise, the first and foremost thing you should do is listen to what they have to say—to try and understand them. Why? Because most of the time, such people just need someone to just accept their emotions and their words as holding importance—to accept the fact that their emotions are real and worthy of attention.
We have made Naruto’s ‘talk-no-jutsu” somewhat of a joke and just something more funny than serving a purpose—and yes, sometimes it does appear as if it is overdone—but just think about it for a second. This is the ninja world where these shinobi are constantly killing and such a life is traumatic at times. Think of all the people Naruto has met that have gone through so many traumatic experiences and are just not mentally stable and the very first thing he always does is listen. To try and relate. To understand them. To say, “Hey, I hear what you’re saying, and I understand your emotions are real.”
This quality of his—THIS right here is why he TRULY became Hokage. Why he was so qualified for the position. He never believed any feeling or thought was below him and he always listened to each person he encountered. He brought people together this way. And when you’re sitting at such a high position as Hokage (or whatever position of leadership), it is SO important to be both perceptive and receptive of e v e r y person out there—no matter what their status/rank/race/age/personality/ideology/etc.
And on top of that all, Naruto was very self-aware. Do you see how he reflected on being the kyuubi container? He’s this thirteen-year-old kid who realized that the hate people had was targeted toward the kyuubi container, not him. But because they were one in the same thing, the hate was also targeted towards him. And because he was able to grasp this concept, he was able to use this to push forward to turn that hate around by reaching out to one person at a time until he was reaching out to the whole of the shinobi world.
It’s honestly so beautiful. We could all learn so much from his character. And try to apply some of his methods to our daily lives. Imagine how much positive change that would bring into this world.
Warnings: death of a character, there are no spoilers because I made my own ending to last night’s episode, small amount of fluff. *The gif I guess could be counted as a spoiler?*
A/N: I said I was going to do it, so I did it. You all get some special treatment today!! Enjoy this extra fic! I hope you all enjoy this! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! I love you all so much!! <3
Crowley smirked at Lucifer as the fallen archangel fell to his knees. Lucifer withered in pain and all Crowley could do was chuckle. He had big plans to torture Lucifer. Crowley wasn’t going to spare Lucifer, not one bit.
“Do you remember [Y/N],” Crowley asked Lucifer, his tone snarky. “She’s your soul mate isn’t she? Pretty little thing she is.”
“Keep your hands off of her Crowley,” Lucifer seethed as he clutched his stomach.
“It’s more like she can’t keep her hands off of me,” Crowley mused, his eyes traveling to the door of the thrown room. His smirk grew as you opened the door to the throne room. “Oh look who’s here.”
“Y/N,” Dean said hesitantly as he stared at your seemingly lifeless form, completely disconnected from everything and everyone around you.
When you didn’t stir, not that he had expected you to, Dean moved to sit beside you, his hand squeezing yours gently.
He felt nothing in return, just your hand laying in his limply.
“Sweetheart,” Dean swallowed, pushing your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. “This is it. If there was ever a time you were going to pop up outta that hospital bed and declare this whole shit show a joke, it’d be now,” Dean chuckled humorlessly.
He wasn’t met with your voice like he had prayed over and over that he would be.
Instead, he was bombarded with the reminder that a machine was doing all the breathing for you. The rushing sound of the oxygen mask filling your lungs with air. The steady beep that indicated a heart beat but no response, no brain activity.
Dean leaned over, tears in his eyes as his lips brushed yours gently. He wanted nothing more than for your lips to suddenly attach to his, kissing him back furiously, but he knew deep in his gut that was not going to happen. Not now. Not ever again.
“Brain dead,” the doctor had said. “The machine is keeping her alive, Mr. Winchester.”
The words echoed in his head. Taunted him. Dared him to contradict them when all evidence indicated otherwise.
“What am I supposed to do?” Dean begged as he remained close to you, tears threatening to breach the surface. “What the hell am I supposed to do without you, Y/N?” Dean asked.
Just then the nurse walked in, turned off the machines and removed the oxygen from your face. Dean’s tears poured forth then, as he watched your chest heave once, twice, and fail to raise a third time on its own.
The monitors were off, but he knew if they were on they’d be blaring at him, mocking his pain and suffering. Mocking his loss.
Dean’s forehead fell against your stomach, sobs racking his body.
“This is all my fault,” Dean whispered, kissing your hand gently. “I should have found you sooner. The Djinn knew how to hide. God, I should have found you sooner,” Dean mumbled.
Then Dean felt a hand on his cheek which made him gasp.
“It’s not your fault Dean.”
He looked up, his heart twisting in horror.
“No,” he whispered as his eyes fell on you. “No. Not you,” Dean mumbled. “Y/N,” Dean pleaded, staring at you standing before him.
“You need me Dean, I can’t go now,” you managed, your voice soft and raspy.
Dean leaned into your touch then, his heart shattering into unrecognizable pieces.
“You can’t stay,” he whispered.
“I have to,” you answered, moving closer to him. “You asked what you were supposed to do without me. Now you don’t have to find out,” you whispered, reaching down and brushing your pale lips against his.
When the love of your life begged you to stay, begged you not to go, not even death could tear you away from him.
Imagine Chris and the Avengers cast talking about you on Jimmy Kimmel.
You settled in your hotel room bed and turned on the television just in time to catch your husband, Chris Evans, and fellow cast members; Chris Hemsworth, Robert Downey Jr., Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo and Jeremy Renner live on Jimmy Kimmel. You were meant to be at the interview with them but your commitment with your new movie sent you to London instead, and so there you were watching them answer the questions you were suppose to as well about the movie you all had acted in six months ago.
The interview started and the cast took their seats. You smiled at how handsome Chris looked in the outfit you had told him to take with him; everyone else looked great too. Seeing them made you miss their company and you wished you had been able to join them on the couch.
“It is so great to have you guys here tonight,” Jimmy addressed them with a wide grin. “The movie isn’t even out yet and everyone’s already excited to see part two.” The audience cheered their agreements. “Thank you all for coming out. I know all of you are very busy which is why we’re missing a few cast members tonight.”
The cast nodded in acknowledgement of your absence as well as a few others.
“Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan, as well as your wife, Y/N,” Jimmy said to Chris and Chris nodded again, this time with a cute pout. “I heard she’s currently in London filming her next movie.”
“Yeah,” Chris chuckled. “She actually left for London like- a week after we wrapped up Infinity War. I headed home to relax and she went on to her next job, it definitely says a lot about our level of demand in the industry.” He joked and you chuckled softly. “No, I’m extremely proud of her. She’s up for an Oscar, did you guys know that?”
“How can we not? You talk about it all day every day,” Robert rolled his eyes as he pretended to be annoyed with Chris. “Even Y/N doesn’t talk about it as much as you do.” The room laughed. “No, seriously though- he talks about it all the time. Doesn’t he, guys?” He asked the cast for confirmation.
“All the time,” Scarlett and Jeremy nodded.
“Even Y/N tells him to shut up about it,” Mark chuckled.
“You’d think he was the one getting nominated,” Chris H added.
“He’s a proud husband,” Jimmy defended Chris.
“Yeah,” Chris laughed, “just leave me be.”
“He’s a lovesick puppy, that’s what he is.” Robert teased, glancing back at Chris. “Ever since the second he laid eyes on Y/N, he’s been head over heels for her.” The cast nodded and Chris blushed deeply, dropping his head. “You should have seen him the first time she walked on to the set, his eyes popped out of his skull and he became a huge blubbering mess.”
You giggled to yourself, remembering the day Robert was talking about. You’d been friends with Robert for quite a while now, having met on the set of ‘Sherlock Holmes’ in 2009. He was the one who took you around on your first day at the Marvel Studios and introduced you to everyone, including your husband. Chris was a huge mess the first time he met you, mainly because he was already a fan of your work and you were drop dead gorgeous in a black lace dress; he was a bit of a sucker when it came to lace.
“Yeah, okay,” Chris chuckled, “I’ll admit I was a bit of a mess when I met Y/N.”
“A bit?” Chris H scoffed then chuckled. “We were all embarrassed for you, dude. You’re lucky she’s ridiculously nice and ignored your rambling otherwise you wouldn’t be here with that ring on your finger. You lucked out with her, my man.”
“Oh trust me, I know.” Chris chuckled. “She reminds me everyday.”
He was joking- while you did remind him occasionally, mostly as a joke, sometimes when you were fighting- he didn’t need a reminder when it came to you. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you even before the first date.
The two of you clicked pretty much immediately and every day on set became like a scene out of a romantic comedy. It got to a point where Joss had to keep you two apart because you and Chris couldn’t be in the same room without flirting and/or ending up in a fit of giggles.
Your relationship with him progressed with MCU film franchise. You met and started dating on the set of ‘The Avengers’, by 'Captain America: The Winter Soldier’, you’d moved in with him, he’d proposed during 'The Avengers: Age of Ultron’, and by the time 'Captain America: Civil War’ came around you’d been happily married for almost a year. The end of 'Infinity War: Part 1’ called for your first pregnancy- which the two of you were planning on keeping a secret until the three month mark. And by the end of 'Infinity War: Part 2’, your little miracle would have been born and introduced to the world.
“I know we’re here to talk about the movie but can we just discuss your personal life for a moment?” Jimmy asked Chris. “You and Y/N have been married for a while now, do you think we’re going to see little Captain Americas and little Agent 25s running around anytime soon?”
You pressed your lips together when you saw Chris’ reaction. He looked like he was definitely dying to tell someone but the two of you made a promise and neither of your families knew yet so he kept his mouth shut and let Jeremy made the first comment.
“He’s enough of a child for the both of them,” Jeremy joked. “You should see them out and about, they paint the town red till the break of dawn. It’s no wonder they work together 'cause I don’t think anyone else can keep up with them.”
You laughed, suddenly glad you weren’t there to be teased.
“You two like to party?” Jimmy asked, chuckling.
“Why do you think they don’t have kids yet?” Mark chuckled.
“So they’re the ones you guys call to have fun, Chris and Y/N?”
“Definitely.” Robert nodded. “Those two are absolutely hectic.”
“Mm hm,” the entire cast nodded with all their thumbs pointed at Chris.
“Nooooo, we’re not going to do that!” Chris held his hands up in surrender. “We’re on TV, guys! Our parents are watching this. C'mon, if Y/N sees this she’s going to lose her mind. We promised her no embarrassing stories, so c'mon!”
“If she doesn’t want any embarrassing stories about her then she should settle down,” Robert said. “Hear that, kid?” He addressed you through the camera. “Become a mom and everything embarrassing you’ve ever done is wiped clean off the slate.”
You chuckled and picked up your phone, texting Chris the following words.
Just break the news, babe. We’ll call our families after the interview. I know we said we’d wait but it’s happening so we might as well tell people. I know you’ve been dying to tell them anyway so go ahead, you’ve got my full support. ❤️️
After sending the text, you turned your attention back onto the TV screen. Chris flinched and you knew it was from the buzzing in his pocket. He subtly pulled his attention away from Jimmy and the rest and took his phone out of his pocket to read the text. You saw his smile and you couldn’t help but smile back. He looked up at the screen and winked, knowing you were watching.
“Hey guys, um-” Chris cleared his throat and drew the attention onto himself. “I’ve got something to announce. Y/N and I have been keeping this a secret for a while now and um- she actually just decided it was time we break the news. She just texted me telling me to announce it right here on Jimmy Kimmel.”
“No my God,” Scarlett gasped and turned to Chris a knowing smile. “Is she-”
The rest of the cast turned to Chris with widened eyes and excited smiles, waiting for confirmation.
“Yup,” Chris nodded, smiling. “We’re expecting our first child.” He said and the whole room gasped.
“Wow!” Jimmy clapped. “That is- congratulations, you guys. Y/N,” he looked into the camera. “We wish you could be here with us. Congratulations, you two are going to make wonderful parents.” He said and you smiled.
“No way!” Robert’s jaw dropped, his excited grin visible as he turned from Chris to the camera. “I knew it,” he pointed to the camera and you chuckled. “I’m so proud of you, kid. I can’t wait to meet your little one.”
“Congratulations, man!” Jeremy slapped Chris on the back excitedly.
“Yeah, welcome to the dad clan. You’re one of us now,” Chris H shook his hand, grinning.
“I’m so happy for you guys,” Mark told him, smiling. “You’re both going to make amazing parents.”
“Thanks guys,” Chris grinned. “I’m very excited as well.” He turned his attention back onto the camera, speaking directly to you. “I couldn’t have asked for a better person to experience parenthood with and- I’m ready as long as I’ve got you by my side, sweetheart. I love you and I can’t wait to see you.”
You smiled, feeling your eyes water as you picked up your phone and texted him your response.
You stare at the closed door in front of you and take a deep breath for the third time tonight. You’re standing outside your boyfriend’s apartment, like you’ve done a thousand times before. It’s the same chipped and faded paint on the wood you’ve seen that has been etched into your memory, along with the same useless doorbell that never works- But it all feels different, because of what you’ve come here to do.
You are completely, totally, hopelessly in love with Daveed Diggs. He feels the same way about you, you know he does. He’s expressed it breathlessly between kisses, in dorky love letters, and in a song coupled with Lin’s awkward beatboxing in the background. And because the two of you are in love, you want to do what people who are in love do.
In the year that you’ve been dating he has mostly managed to keep his hands off of you. You never went much further than the occasional hasty make out session on the couch, but lately you’d been wanting more. You came to his apartment with the intention of finally, finally taking that next step with him. You are worried about one thing, though, since you are an absolutely clueless virgin. You’ve never done this before, but have always imagined how it would go… your first time being so intimate with another human being. Thinking it through from the last couple of days, you convinced yourself you had nothing to worry about. He’s always been so caring with you, and you’re not a child. You know how this works.
You finally knock on the door, smoothing out your dress and fixing your hair as you wait. You’ve chosen to wear something that you know makes you look irresistible-a short, sleeveless dress, lace tights, and your lucky heels, all in black. It should definitely do the trick.
Soft footsteps come closer, and the door opens to reveal your boyfriend, messy haired and as cute as ever.
“Hey, Y/N,” He beams at you, his brown eyes shining with joy from your surprise of just randomly showing at his door. He’s so cute that you nearly forget to respond.
“Hi, Dave. Mind if I come inside?” You smile back, trying to add an edge to your voice that you hope is anything near sexy.
“Not at all, sugar,” He ushers you inside and kisses your cheek as you brush past him. “What inspired this visit?” He hums against your neck, slipping his arms around your waist.
“Oh, nothing, I just wanted to see you. That’s all,” You reply coyly.
“Well, you’re always welcome here. I can never get enough of you,” He’s still smiling at you, although it’s more of a smirk now. Maybe he knows what you’re up to. Still in an almost-embrace, you drift into the living room and onto the couch.
“Do you want a drink? I could get us some beers,” Daveed asks.
“How about something a little more… sophisticated?” You suggest sinking your vision to his eyes, hoping that you’re still being subtle.
He must have caught on to your plan, because his eyebrows quirk up, like they always do when he’s in a playful mood. “Coming right up, doll,” he says and whisks to the kitchen and returns shortly with two blood-red glasses. When he gives you yours your hands touch and linger. It’s as if every time your skin has come into contact, from the kiss at the door to this quick moment, sparks have flown between the two of you. Even making eye contact with him over the rim of your glass has you feeling hot all over.
It doesn’t take long before both of your glasses are drained and you’re basically in his lap, toying with the buttons at the top of his shirt. You kick off your shoes so you can bring your feet up on the couch. Looking down at you, he pulls you closer to him, as if it were even possible. It’s still chaste and innocent. You’re only playing with each other’s hair, looking into each other’s eyes. His gaze keeps flicking down to your lips, which you had agonized over for some time, delicately painting on the perfect shade of red. Then his lips are on yours, soft at first and then building up to something dangerous and reckless. There’s teeth, there’s tongue, it’s filthy and you love it. Your lipstick is definitely ruined but you couldn’t care less.
He pushes you onto your back, suddenly harsh and commanding. He has total control over you, and you’re just helplessly needy, arching into his touch and chasing those wonderful feelings he’s giving you. There’s that sinful thing he does with his tongue, and the way he keeps grinding his hips where your dress has ridden up… It’s too much and not enough.
“Maybe we should… Mmf… Go to your room?” You ask as he stops his assault on your lips to nibble at your collarbone.
He simply nods, holding your hand on the way there and looking at you like he wants to devour you. He throws you onto the bed, making you squeak in surprise. “I want you, and I’m going to take you… I’ll make you mine, babydoll…” He murmurs and literally tears your tights off your legs. The amount of force he’s using begins to scare you.
Your dress is the next to go. Thankfully, he manages to keep it in one piece. Now you’re fully exposed, except for a thin lace bra which he makes quick work of. He’s straddling you at this point, and you can feel his erection straining in his skinny jeans. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.” He growls as he takes in the expanse of your bare body. Even though it’s a compliment, it sounds almost predatory.
His clothes come off quickly. You want to take a second to let the fact sink in that you’re skin to skin with the love of your life, but he’s moving so fast you don’t have the time. It’s too frantic. Every touch is fleeting; every brush of your lips is too rushed.
“It’s been such a long time, sweetheart. You’re so gorgeous. I might have to skip the foreplay. I need to feel you, now,” He growls and pounces on you, and starts rutting his cock against your opening. It’s nice- but your eyes widen when you realize exactly how big he is. You were not expecting it to be so thick or so long, and you find yourself wondering how on Earth that is going to fit inside you. “Mmm… You’re going to feel me for days. You’ll be so wrecked when I’m through with you…” He’s pressing harder, sending prickles of pain throughout your body and your heart is racing. You want to back out, but it must be too late now. He’s starts to force it in you and it’s too much too soon- you cry out in pain.
“It’s okay, it will be better soon, it’s just been a while-” he begins to soothe you, his eyes closed and running his hands over your arms.
“No, no, no- I’m a virgin. I’m a virgin, Daveed.” You blurt out.
“You’re what?” He stops immediately, and pulls out to scoop you up in his arms.
“I’ve never had sex. I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” tears practically falling out as you admitted it. “I thought it would be fine, but you were being so rough, and you were bigger than I expected and…” You trail off, pressing your face into his bare shoulder.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry Y/N.” He strokes your hair, kissing your forehead softly. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed that you’d done this before. I don’t know what I was thinking. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have made it better for you.”
“I don’t know.” You sigh. “I wanted everything to go smoothly.”
“That worked out really well.” He says sarcastically, trying to pull a joke. He must have noticed your worried expression because he adds, “I’m not mad at you, babe. Don’t worry. Just be honest with me in the future, okay?”
You nod meekly, and then smile at him, which he returns happily. Then he wraps you in another hug. “I didn’t say we had to stop. I only said we should go slower., You whisper, glancing at him and biting your lower lip.
“Will you be okay if I touch you?” he asks cautiously. He seems more afraid than you are, now. You find yourself unable to believe that he cares about you so much.
“Yes,” you breathe out.
He lets his hands run over you, in no rush. This time he worships you; he treats you like a queen. Daveed memorizes every dip and curve, delicately tracing every freckle and scar. It seems like an eternity before he reaches the place you need him to be. His fingers touch your clit hesitantly at first, but he moves faster as you let out whines and gasps of pleasure. “Do you like that, sugar?” he asks, smirking, obviously proud of the reactions he’s retrieving from you.
“Oh God, yes…” you cut yourself off with a moan when a finger enters you. It’s seconds before he finds the spot that has you begging for more and bucking into his hand. Then it’s joined by another, and you wince at the stretch but never stop the stream of noises and incoherent curses leaving your mouth.
“So wet… I think you’re ready, doll,” He retracts his fingers and guides you onto your back. He’s above you, now; knees braced on either side of you. You’re still shaking, but he’s still lending you soothing touches. Every time you look at him you find yourself reassured, somehow. It reminds you that all he wants tonight is to make you feel as special as he thinks you are. “I’ll be careful, I promise,” Daveed motions and kisses your forehead. Then he’s pushing in, as slow as he promised. He watches you carefully, ready to pull out at the first sign that you’re in pain. Your eyes are shut tight as you try to ignore the slight stretch. “Hey, look at me.” He tilts your chin up and you look at him. He’s absolutely bewitching like this, towering over you, beautiful eyes glinting and full of an intoxicating combination of adoration and lust. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you say. He takes this as his cue to slide in fully, eliciting a pained whimper from you. Immediately he’s planting quick, sloppy kisses to your neck, mumbling apologies and promises about how good it’s going to feel. You’re not sure if you believe him until he starts to move. Somehow he’s managed to reach a place you never knew existed, and each time he rubs against it you’re overcome with such an intense want for him. You moan out loud, shamefully loud, and he grins against your skin. Heat spreads over you, radiating from every point where your body connects with his. He keeps making all these wonderful, lewd noises- groans and breathy “oh fuck”s and unintelligible praise. The unhurried roll of his hips is driving you mad with bliss, to the point where you’re almost delirious.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N,” He groans. You try to respond, but you’re so overwhelmed by aching need and the heavenly drag of his cock in an out of you that you can’t manage more than desperate panting. You’re trembling beneath him, consumed with unfamiliar feelings and a fire that keeps threatening to break loose in your body. Unfathomable ecstasy washes over you when he finds your clit again, rubbing it to the beat of his thrusts. “I want to see you become undone for me,” he purrs.
So you do. It’s everything you thought it would be- heaven, paradise, a high you know you could never get from any drug. Your release triggers his, and you watch his face contort in euphoria.
Still in a haze, you untangle yourselves. He pulls you close to him, your back against his chest. Both of you are sweaty and practically burning up from your previous activities, but you don’t mind at all. “That was… amazing. You’re amazing,” He mumbles into your hair.
“You’re not too bad yourself.” You giggle, exhausted from your adventure.
“I love you so much, you know that, right?” You turn to face him and he props himself up on an elbow.
“Of course I do. I love you, too,” you say, and you mean it. He smiles and pecks you on the lips.
My hands sting and I can already feel the bruises beginning to form.
I sit to catch my breath, in the deafening silence I hear a drop of my blood hit the scuffed wooden floor.
Looking back, not wrapping my hands was a bad idea.
I get onto my feet and hook another bag up. This time, being careful to wash and wrap my hands.
Letting out years of pent up anger felt good after a long day of dealing with idiotic people.
“You should probably take care of that first.” Steve comments just as I knock the bag off its chain, accidentally spilling sand across the floor.
“If it isn’t the star-spangled man with a plan, why are you here? What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything -” he says obviously finding humour in his joke. My patience is running thin and I shoot him a glare.
He clears his throat, regaining his composure. “Fury wanted to see you.”
“Fury? Nick Fury, the one that relieved me of my title as field agent?-” Steve tries to cut me off
“-All because yours truly made one little mistake-”
“You almost got us killed.” He cuts in
“But I didn’t! I came in and saved your ass, again!”
“You wouldn’t have had to save us if you stuck to the orders!”
“It was my brother! What would you have done! I fixed my mistake, but Fury didn’t give me my second chance, why should I give him his?”
“Y/N I-” he sighs “I need your help.”
I shoot him a questioning look. “My silence is your cue.”
“Do you remember Bucky?”
“Bucky. Barnes?…The Winter Soldier? Yeah, why?”
“S.H.E.I.L.D wants to recruit him”
“Why? He tried to kill us. You were his mission-”
“I was his friend.”
“Steve, Bucky was your friend, the Winter Soldier, he’s your enemy. You can’t save him. He’s long gone. And he tried to kill us.”
“He remembers.” Steve argues “H-he’s still the Bucky I used to know, deep down.” He clears his throat again.
“Fury said that if you brought him back successfully-and alive- he’ll give you your job back.”
“Fine, but I’m doing this for me, and only me, not for you or your issues with your broken boyfriend.” Steve barely contained his excitement as we walk to the jet waiting outside. After a short flight to Stark tower and many questioning glances, we’re sat around a table discussing the terms of the mission.
“There are tracking devices in all the weapons in case you decide to go rogue.”
“Stark, I take my job very seriously.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, it’s just a precaution.”
I glance over the weapons layed out in front on me and pick a few, stuffing them in my duffle bag. I pause when I see an unfamiliar weapon. “Hey, Stark, what’s this?”
“Turn it away from you, press the green button, it vaporizes whatever its aimed at.” He demonstrated on a vase sitting on the table and it turned to a pile of ash.
“Woah. That’s awesome!”
“Tony, if only you were as big as your ego, maybe you’d be able to reach the top shelf.” Although he was a few inches taller than me I still liked to tease him about his height compared to the others.
I sat back down looking over the Winter Soldier’s case file once again, taking in all the details, adding them to what I already know. In his military picture he looks young, determined, sweet, definitely handsome, probably a ladies man with his hair neatly cut and gelled.
In the other two he looked different. There’s one of him in cryo. Even in his frozen state you can still make out the crease in his brow, he looks like he’s… in pain. The one of him in action, a majority of his face is covered by a black mask, his hair long and messy. His metal arm stood out against his black uniform. The vibranium caught the sun and made the red star stand out even more. The way I recognized him best, as the Winter Soldier.
“What?” I say snapping out of my stupor
“You spaced out, it’s time for us to leave, you’re headed to Shelbyville, Indiana, that’s where the target was seen last.”
“He’s not a target.” Steve yelled from down the hall, slamming the door.
“Actually, Sam? Wilson, right? Alright bird-boy. I say we head to Washington. I was thinking metal-man grew up in Indiana, maybe he went looking for answers he couldn’t find. If you’re a fossil who doesn’t know how to properly use a computer, where would you go to search for the past?”
“The Smithsonian.” Bruce chimed in when we walked past him lab. I shot him a smile, seeing as he was the only one who sided with me when I almost got them killed, he’s one of my favorites. Him and Natasha that is. Agent Romanoff was always one of my favourites.
“Exactly, there’s a big plaque dedicated to Barnes there. I say we check it out. I don’t think Barnes would stay in one place too long, he knows he’s wanted.”
“You really think he’s there?”
“Wilson, I’m a spy, its my job to know where people are.” I send over my shoulder on my way into the quinjet. I’m met with a light chuckle from Mr. Patriotism himself. “What’re you laughing at?”
“You know, you’re quite funny, agent Y/L/N.” I’m slightly startled by the title, not being used to it anymore. Does he just have that much faith that I’ll succeed? Although, I’ve only failed one or two missions. “Alright Rogers, we’ve got three hours on the jet, try to behave.”
Three hours later I’m dropped off at one of Stark’s safe houses a few blocks from the Smithsonian.
“Call when you’ve got him, we’ll send a jet. And Y/N, please, don’t hurt him unless you absolutely need to.” A quick nod and a small smile from the Captain is my parting, from here I’m on my own. I head into the small rundown house, it’s bigger on the inside, cleaner and brighter too. There’s a bed to one side and a bathroom on the other.
“There’s no place like home.”
I drop my duffle and slip a gun into the waistband of my pants. I also grab a knife and slip it into the holster in my jacket, you can’t be too careful.
I decide to take the small ‘getaway’ car in the garage. Its not as great as Steve’s bug though.
The first few days go by with no sign of the infamous soldier. I’m caught off guard to finally see the one and only sporting a baseball cap, jeans and a sweatshirt. He has gloves on too, it seems. Its not too cold, it’s only late October, he’s most likely trying to hide the metal that could set civilians into a panic and most certainly give him away. He’s standing near the plaque dedicated to the one James Barnes of the 107th.
I stand and observe him for a little while. He reads the words over and over again. Its a good ten minutes before I finally walk over, careful not to startle him. I stand next to him and read the plaque for myself.
“Bucky seems like he was a great person, definitely someone you’d want to befriend.” He seems caught off guard by my words and he takes a second to comprehend my sentence.
“Yeah I bet he was a great person.” He says. “Was.” He says. I don’t comment on it because I know I wasn’t supposed to hear it. After another few minutes of silence I start again.
“You know, Steve really misses you.” His head shoots up and his eyes are dark and guarded. He recognized the name.
“He remembers.” Steve’s words play over in my head.
“Who sent you?” He questions obviously ready for a fight.
“S.H.E.I.L.D.” the look on his face tells me he doesn’t believe me.
“They want to recruit you.” No response.
“Bucky-” recognition crosses his features, but is gone almost immediately and his eyes soften, barely. He looked like he was thinking hard, remembering.
“-Steve wants you back, he wants you to remember and I can help.” I show him my S.H.E.I.L.D badge for proof
“Let’s go because that guard hasn’t stopped watching you since you came in.” We head towards the street making our way to my car.
A tall man blocks our way. I pull out a gun and shoot. I clip his shoulder and he gets my leg, I collapse, but shoot again, this time its a head shot. The car’s gone and I can’t walk.
“How’d you get those through security?”
“Same way you got your arm through. Can you carry me, I can’t walk.” He picks me up as if I weighed nothing while I made a makeshift tourniquet.
I call Steve and then Romanoff and Banner, but none of them answer. He sets me down in a chair when we reach the safe house.
“Well, Earth’s mightiest heroes aren’t answering, I guess we’ll spend the night here. I’ll take first watch. You rest.” He hesitates, obviously not trusting me.
“If Steve trusts me, you can too. I promise.” He gets up and heads towards the bathroom. I hear the water start to run. I decide to make something light to eat for us, assuming he hasn’t had much lately. I hear the door click open.
“Hey, I made us dinner-” he standing in the doorway with only a towel wrapped around his waist. “I uhm, left my clothes.”
I hand him his clothes and try to keep my gaze from wandering. The door clicks shut again and I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding in. I sit on the bed and begin eating my sandwich. Bucky comes out, fully clothed with his hair neatly combed. I hand him his plate.
“You know, if there’s anything you want to know about yourself, I could try to answer, the basics at least. You’ll have to ask Rogers on the rest.”
“You know, that wasn’t me. None of it was me, I killed… So many people b-but, it wasn’t me.”
“I know Bucky.” I say taking his plate as he lays down.
He tosses and turns for hours. And when his breathing finally evens out I’m relieved to know he’s at least resting. I know what torture can do to a person. He sleeps for about an hour before he wakes up, immediately on guard. He wraps his metal hand around my throat
“Кто тебя послал?” Who sent you?
I’ve never been caught like this before, I could get out easily, but that would only make him more nervous,
“Bucky.” I choke out. “Its me, no one sent me.” His eyes soften and he drops me.
“I’m so sorry.” He says softly, glancing at the forming bruises.
“Its okay, I have them too, you know.” He looks surprised,
“Mm.” He looks at me for another second before going and sitting on the bed. He mutters quietly in Russian, but I can’t make out the words. I sidestep my bag and go to the sink.
“Drink.” I say handing him the glass. “What were you just mumbling?”
“Пытки равна прочности.”
“Torture equals strength.” We say together.
“ It was written on every surface back at Hydra.” I sit on the bed next to him, a bit closer than necessary.
“Все это будет нормально.” It’ll all be okay
He looks up at me and for the first time I see the ghost of a smile grace his features.
My phone rings interrupting our conversation.
“I’m sorry, we had a mission, I’ll come out to pick you up now.”
Thanks Clint, see you soon.“
"Katniss will be here soon, just throw your stuff in my duffle, I got it.” He does as he’s told, obviously confused, and goes back to his spot on the bed. It kind of set me off that he was trusting me. I knew well enough that it was an act. That he would try something. It was almost too easy.
Bucky became my new partner on all my missions and he’s remembering more and more.
With the help of Steve of course.
Its been about 2 years. I’ll fill you in on the details.
I was right, when Clint came, Bucky tried to escape. To kill us. He didn’t succeed. He was locked up for a while, with only minimal visits from me or from Steve. Steve helped him to remember, I was like a therapist. Maybe it was because I didn’t remind him, maybe because I was, in a sense, a stranger, but nevertheless, we grew closer. Eventually, I got Fury to agree to let Barnes roam, with me as an escort. Once he was stable enough, he began training, which, in my opinion, he didn’t need. And then he was recruited.
“Hey, Buck, we gotta go, we’re on our way to Vegas, remember?”
Finally, a mission in a nice place. We drop down and check into a nice hotel, that’s a new one. There’s a Hydra base under one of the abandoned casinos in town and its our job to take it down.
“Hey Buck, we’re in Vegas, we should do something fun.”
I say as we walk away from the burning building, cliché am I right?
“Why don’t we go back to the hotel and order room service? Watch a few movies, I’m still not caught up with the 21st century.” I laugh and nod my head in agreement.
I collapse on the bed and bury my face in the pillow.
“Are you tired, Мой ангел?”
I feel a rush of warmth at the name. Did he just call me his angel?
“No, just getting comfy.” I reply, my voice muffled my the pillow.
“I can make you comfy.” He says climbing in beside me and pulling me to him. He trails kisses up my neck to my jaw. I turn over to face him and give him a puzzled look. I’m not denying my feelings, everyone knew they were there, we’ve just never… confronted it, or even talked about it. And he’s never this carefree.
He smiles and captures my lips with his, a soft, yet hungry kiss, like he’d been waiting to do it. He wanted me just as badly as I wanted him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he instinctively put his hands on either side of my head to hold himself up. I tuck my hand up under his shirt and he pulls away only long enough my me to slip his shirt off and throw it across the room. I trace the skin where the metal meets, its still red, but not as bad as when I caught him watching his own reflection. As if he were a monster, a few weeks after I brought him to S.H.E.I.L.D. he slipped my shirt up over my head and trailed kisses down my neck, to my chest and onto my stomach, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He brings his mouth back up to mine and his tongue skims my bottom lip. The moment ends when my phone rings insanely loudly. Bucky curses under his breath.
“What?” I snap at the person on the other line.
“Did I interrupt?” Comes the snarky voice of Tony on the other end.
“Why are you calling, Stark?”
“I sent Natasha to come get you guys, she’ll be there in a few hours.”
I end the call without a goodbye and look to the soldier piercing me with his blue eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He just chuckles and places a light kiss to my forehead.
“We’d better get dressed.” He muses a playful smirk on his face.
“To be continued, Кукла.”
Bucky watched you and Steve giggling like two little school kids. He watched the way your eyes lit up every time Steve smiled at you.
You two were obviously so lost in each other, you didn’t notice the hurt in Bucky’s eyes.
“I’ll get us some drinks.” Steve smirked. “Want anything Buck?”
Bucky shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “No thanks.”
Steve pecked your lips quickly before escaping into the crowded floor. Leaving you two alone.
“Isn’t he just amazing?” You said with admiration in your voice.
And suddenly, being alone with you was somehow unbearable.
“I better go.” Bucky muttered, turning his back to you.
You cocked your brow and went for him.
“Where you going? The night just started!” You said with a smile.
“I-I can’t do this.” He whispered.
You were now filled with curiosity, inching toward your boyfriends best friend.
“Can’t do what?”
Bucky motioned between the two of you, his eyes glossy from the drinks. “This.” He stated. “I can’t just stand here and watch you and Steve. I can’t just be your friend anymore.”
“W-what? Why?” You were beginning to grow worried. Wondering what you did to make him so angry.
And just like that, all the built up tension and emotion he kept to himself was now coming out. “Because I’m in love with you!” He exclaimed. “I have loved you since the day we met and I will always love you.”
Your throat thickened, making it hard to breathe. You were locked in your stance, scared to make a single move.
“There you two are!” Steve yelled. He made his way over with the drinks in his hands. “I was looking for you guys.”
Bucky let out a long breath, and forced a smirk. “Well you found us.” He said. “But hey, I should leave. Need to get up early tomorrow.”
Before Steve could say a word, Bucky took one last glance at you and left.
“Is everything okay?” Steve nudged your side, snapping you out of your daze.
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this Crowley fic! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! I love you all so much!! <3 <3
This was requested by @emilyymichelle:
Can you do Crowley x reader where everyone but Crowley forgets the reader’s birthday please?
You shut the bunker door behind you in a huff of frustration. You couldn’t believe that after living with the Winchesters for the last five years, that they would forget your birthday. If there was one thing they were consistent at, it was forgetting your birthday. Every year you got more and more fed up. You felt as if they didn’t care about you.
Your feet moved slowly as you shoved your hands into your pockets. A long sigh left your lips as you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. You were surprised that Crowley, of all people, was texting you.
Crowley: Hello Darling. Happy Birthday from your favorite King >;)
You smiled at the text, slipping your phone back into your pocket. As you looked up, you saw Crowley just feet in front of you. You shook your head a small smile adorning your lips. “Thank you for the birthday wish,” you smiled, hooking your thumbs into your belt loops.
A/N: So I recently bought a Yankees’ cap (why? ‘Cause I’ve always liked the New York Yankees even though I don’t really follow baseball) and I feel like this would be how Chris would react if his girl wore anything that didn’t celebrate his Bostonian roots. I’m doing this as a part two to the first play fight one, where they 'argued’ about the Patriots jersey Y/N had on.
“Can you hurry it up?” Chris called from the front door as you finished your smoothie in the kitchen. “I know it’s only nine, but it’s quite a drive and I don’t know what traffic’s going to be like.” You made some noise with your mouth full to tell him you’d heard him. “Tick tock, Y/N!” He called louder, trying not to laugh when he heard you make a frustrated sound with your throat. “We don’t have all day!”
You and Chris were driving to the other side of town to pick up a gift for your best friend’s baby shower which was in a few days. You’d ordered the top of the market baby stroller she’d been talking about for a while now; it was in the exact same baby blue color she’d painted her nursery, as well as engraved with the name her and her husband had chosen for their first born son. It was the perfect gift, the only problem was that instead of having it delivered- you’d accidentally chose the option to pick it up yourself at the branch on the other side of town. You’d tried to correct your mistake, but it was too late- your personalized stroller was waiting for you three and a half hours away. You were lucky your husband loved you and your best friend as much as he did otherwise you would’ve had a huge mess on your hands. He offered to drive, turning the mistake into a fun road trip instead.
“I’m coming!” You called back with a frown as you washed your glass. “We’ve still got plenty of time. Even with traffic, we’re going to make it. The store doesn’t close till eight, so can you just relax?” You grabbed your phone and cap, tugging it over you head as you made your way to the front door.
“Honest to God, you’re such a-” He cut himself off when he saw you. His jaw dropped and he stared at you with absolute horror, “oh my God.” His comment made your eyes narrow in confusion. You were about to ask what he was going on about when he asked, “what the hell is on your head?”
“Um…” Your eyes darted up towards your cap. “A cap?” You’d completely forgotten you’d grabbed the Yankees hat Sebastian gave you for your birthday, the one Chris had made you swore you’d never wear because it was a 'betrayal’ to him and your marriage; he was an extremist, that one. “I don’t under-”
“You’re fucking wearing a Yankees cap,” he cut you off with a chuckle. “Seriously?” He asked as you confirmed his accusation. “Are we seriously going to do this again?” He tried not to smile when he remembered how the last play fight went; you’d worn a Falcons jersey courtesy of Octavia Spencer and you’d both ended up in the pool. “Take it off.” He told you when you’d tugged it back over your head. “We’re not going anywhere with you in that piece of trash.”
“Okay,” you laughed. “You need to calm down, mister. This was a birthday present from Seb and it’s one of my most comfortable caps. So no, I am not going to take it off because you can’t handle seeing merchandise from teams that aren’t yours.” He pressed his lips tightly together, squinting at you evilly. “Let’s go, weren’t you worried we weren’t going to make it in time?”
“Yes, but I can’t take you anywhere in that hat.”
“Chris,” you laughed and pinching his face in one of your hands. He tried not to laugh as you squished his cheeks, “it’s only cute when I’m in the mood. I’m not changing my hat, okay?” He scrunched his nose at you and you chuckled. “What’s wrong with the Yankees anyway?” You quizzed as you dropped your hand. “They’re a good team.”
“How. Dare. You?” He punctuated each word, emphasizing his shock and horror.
“Let’s just go, you dork.” You slipped your hand in his and pulled a laughing him out of the front door. “I don’t even know why you’re so offended.” You told him as he locked the front door; he glanced back at you with a face that said it all, making you laugh. “It’s not like I support the team, I don’t even like sports.”
“She says to her husband who is a sports fanatic,” he said monotonously in a teasing manner; you laughed. “It’s offensive because you’re married to a Bostonian and you should be supporting The Patriots and The Red Socks.” You rolled your eyes at that. “Just so you know, my mom would kill you if she saw that on your head.”
“She has and she didn’t.” You told him as you walked towards the car. His eyes narrowed because he didn’t believe you, and you teased him as you both got into the car, “not everyone is as petty as you, Evans.”
“True, but I know my mom and she’s as petty as me.” That wasn’t true. “C'mon, where do you think I get it from?” He joked as he turned the key in the ignition; the engine purred. “We got into a huge argument after I had to wear a Yankees hat for Nanny Diaries. Huge,” he emphasized, “Y/N.”
“That’s a fake story,” you laughed and he bit back his smile as he pulled the car out of the driveway. “You may be able to trick interviewers, Christopher.” He chuckled as he took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “But I’m your wife and I know everything about you.”
“Then you should know not to wear that hat,” he mumbled into your skin and you yanked your hand away, rolling your eyes. “God.” You both burst out laughing when you caught each others’ gazes. “You’re lucky I love you more than I hate that team.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed.
“About as ridiculous as you in that hat.”
“Oh my God,” you laughed harder, causing the corners of your eyes to crinkle which made Chris smile. “Are you honestly that annoyed by this hat?” You asked and he nodded. “Okay,” you chuckled. “If were wearing said hat when we first met, would you have approached me?”
“I’d like to say yes,” he winced and you laughed. “But the answer’s probably not.”
“So you would’ve been willing to miss out on this incredible life all because of a hat?”
“Funny,” he glanced at you with a cheeky grin, “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
“Once again,” you shook your head, laughing, “you’re ridiculous.”
“I know,” he chuckled and you smiled. His ridiculous and childish behavior was part of his incredible charm; you’d never fallen for him if he wasn’t exactly the way he was. “Now aren’t you glad we met at a fancy Vanity Fair party where tasteless caps weren’t part of the dress code?”
“Goooooood,” you groaned loudly and he joined in. Both of you were trying not to laugh as you feigned annoyance because you both found your partner and everything they did adorable. “I should have never married you, Chris Evans.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding. “But it’s too late now,” he winked as he wiggled his ring finger. His platinum band shimmered under the sunlight and you felt the smile on your lips grow even wider. You’d been together for four and a half years now, yet you still woke up each morning feeling like you were living in your wildest, happiest dreams. He took your hand, squeezing it tightly before entwining his fingers with yours. “You’re stuck with me, kid,” he said with a handsome grin.
“Bummer,” you teased, winking. “But hey, since we’re stuck with each other- Let me make things a little easier on you. You don’t like seeing this hat on me, right?” He made his 'duh’ face and you laughed as you pulled it off and placed it in your lap, straightening your hair with your free hand. “Well I love my husband and I don’t want to upset him, so- I’ll oblige.”
“Thank you,” he smiled.
“But I still need a hat, so-” you pulled his NASA cap from his head and he chuckled as you put it on yours. “But then-” you tried not to smile too wide as the hand in his tightened its grip, and the other prepared to yank Chris’ worst enemy on his head. “So do you.” You saw Chris realize what was happening before it happened; his eyes widened and he shook his head. “Ah, perfect.” You tugged it onto his head and he almost lost control of the car. “My handsome Yankees man. Navy blue suits you, baby,” you teased.
“Are you insane? Don’t do that while I’m driving, I could’ve gotten us killed.” He laughed when you did. “My instant reflex is to slap that piece of shit off my head,” he told you and you laughed harder. “Okay,” he chuckled. “You’ve had your fun, now get it off my head. You go ahead and wear it all you want, but don’t make me wear it. I swear it’s like burning my skin.” That comment made your stomach hurt from laughing too much. “Y/N, I’m serious!” He tried not to laugh but he couldn’t help himself. “Give me-” he tried to pull his hand from your grip but you tightened it. “Give me my hand!”
“No,” you giggled. “I like you in that cap, you look so dignified.”
“You’re going to get it when we get home,” he playfully warned with a smirk.
“You promise?” You bit your lower lip, smirking as flirtatiously as he was.