Outtakes

Happy birthday Sebastian!

SEBASTIAN STAN Flaunt Magazine The Phone a Friend Issue (March 2022)

Field of Dandelions || Maverick

✧ part 2 of My Protector. this fic is heavily inspired by Dandelions by Ruth B, so if you want the full effect, listen while you read 💗

✧ summary: Maverick intended to keep his promise to Goose about protecting you. After not seeing one another for 3 weeks, Pete stops by to check in on you, and take you for a joyride. One that leads you to a familiar place, where a newfound desire is expressed, based on the premise of making a wish on a dandelion.

✧ pairing: Peter 'Maverick' Mitchell x Bradshaw!Female!Reader

✧ Maverick masterlist

"'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions Wishing on every one that you'll be mine, mine And I see forever in your eyes I feel okay when I see you smile, smile Wishing on dandelions all of the time Praying to God that one day you'll be mine Wishing on dandelions all of the time, all of the time,"

“I’m going to protect you. Goose made me promise.” 

It was those two statements that constantly flowed throughout your mind. They echoed with the loudest bravado, and they oftentimes consoled you at night when the tears blurred your vision while you gripped polaroid pictures of you and Nick in your hands. 

Maverick had kept his promise. Any chance he got, he’d give you a call, to check on you, and see how you were. It had been a few months since Goose’s passing and every day it slowly got better. 

While you never knew that Nick told of your embarrassing story of doodling hearts around Pete’s name, the Naval Aviator was slowly beginning to see you in a new light. He didn’t want to just protect you, he wanted to take care of you. Maverick never felt a sense of protectiveness before, not this strong, until you happened. 

And as he sat on his motorcycle, veering closer to your small house nestled by the water. The lake was peaceful to you, and it brought about memories of when you used to make your brother go out into the water with you. 

“You want to be a pilot, Nick? Survive in this boat first!” You remembered telling him. 

“I’m meant to fly with the birds, not sail with the fish, Sis!” He would respond to you. 

You were tucked away in the kitchen finishing up a few tasks when you heard the low rev of him. Your heart leaped into your throat. You hadn’t seen Pete in a few weeks and you weren’t sure why you felt so giddy to see him. Maybe it was because of the task that Goose assigned him to do if something ever happened to him – to protect you, Bradley, and Carole, but especially you. 

Walking over to the door, you pulled it open to see him smiling already. 

“Pete,” You whispered. 

“There’s my favorite girl,” He winked, pulling off his aviators. “You busy?” 

You shook your head. “No, what’s up?” You smiled, leaning against the door.

Pete looked behind him, the seat rather empty. “Wanna take a joyride?” He asked. 

It didn’t take much to convince you. You closed the door and raced over to him. He wrapped his arms around you for a sweet embrace. “Get on, and hang on tight,” He smiled.

You got on the back and wrapped your hands around his waist. With your cheek pressed into his back, you smiled and felt as he started to take off. The wind whipped through your hair and Pete started to take you two into the city, finding the perfect spot to grab speed and have you laughing behind him.

That laugh melted his heart. He hadn’t heard you laugh like that since before Nick died. It warmed his heart and when he approached a traffic light, he couldn’t help but rest his hand over yours that clung to his abdomen. 

Taking off again, you watched the city pass you by, the sun setting dramatically low in the sky to create a beautiful horizon of orange and pink. It took your breath away and the feel of Maverick in front of you, it only solidified the moment to become one that would be engraved in your mind forever. 

When Maverick pulled the motorcycle into a nearby parking space, you saw the field before you.

“A field, Pete?” You giggled. You saw the array of wildflowers and it brought a smile. 

“Not just any field,” He said. “It’s the Bayfield – the one where we rolled Goose down one day for the fun of it,” 

The steepness of the top made your eyes widen. Laughter erupted and it made Pete smile even wider. He hurriedly stepped off, pulling you with him before you two were racing into the field together. Maverick had shimmied out of his jacket and tossed it over your shoulders before you were climbing onto his back while he carried the two of you up the hill. 

Soon, you two were falling together on the soft grass, giving you the biggest panoramic view of the sky. Laying flat on your backs, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face even if you tried. 

“Mav,” You whispered, staring up at the puffy white clouds that were painted in the midst of pink and orange. “Thank you,”

Maverick smiled and felt the sudden twitch of your fingers brushing over his wrist. He turned his head to the side, coming to find you staring back at him. 

“I’m going to protect you. With that, it means I’m going to show you fun, and excitement,” He whispered. “Just like Goose wanted for you.” 

You giggled, covering your mouth to hide them, but Pete was taking your hand away.

“Don’t cover your smile… It’s the prettiest thing about you,” His words laced your ears like dripping honey. Your eyes fluttered at the compliment. 

“Pete,” You trailed his name in a hushed tone. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you picked up a dandelion. Maverick smirked, watching as you pulled it to your lips. You rolled over onto your side, kicking your feet in the air. 

“What are you thinking about?” He smiled. You pulled the dandelion close to your lips. Closing your eyes, you blew on it, watching as it separated from its bud. Flutters of white fell onto Maverick’s white cotton t-shirt, making him laugh. 

“Making a wish,” You trailed with a whisper.

Maverick plucked some of the strays off his chest. “Really? What were you wishing about?”

Oh, if only he knew. 

“I can’t tell you! That defeats the purpose!” You exclaimed. He saw how you adorably kicked your feet back and forth. He saw a clear depiction of his best friend on your face, how you were so young and so free. Just like him. Just like Nick. 

“So, if you tell me, it won’t come true? Is that it?” He pondered cheekily, his tongue jutting forward to wet his lips. He looked so attractive when he did that. The way he moved his jaw, sent shivers racing down your spine.

You wished on that particular dandelion that he’d make a move. Oftentimes, you found yourself growing tired of waiting. You wanted Maverick in ways that you never expressed to anyone. It was one that for Goose to figure out your massive crush, but it was another when you would lie awake at night, praying that the pilot would see you for what you were. 

Not just his best friend’s little sister, but a woman who was so in love with him that could barely hold a simple thought in her brain.

“That’s the rule of thumb, isn’t it, pilot?” You snickered. 

“Give me a hint,” Maverick teased you. He knew he could get you to tell him anything. 

You stared into his green orbs, watching the way they flickered while gazing at your eyes. 

“You,” You whispered. 

You grabbed another dandelion and blew into it, your eyes closed as you envisioned the way his lips would feel pressed to yours. You inhaled the erotic scent of his cologne and it sent you to another world.

“Me?” Maverick pressed. 

Please, kiss me. Please. You thought. 

Smiling gently, you stared back down at another dandelion. “That’s all you get, Maverick,” You whispered. 

He glanced between you and the dandelion in your hand. 

“Then let’s see if your wish comes true,” He stated. Your eyebrows furrowed when he raised up. Reaching out to you, your breath caught when Maverick wrapped his hand around your cheek and brushed his thumb underneath your eye. 

Everything felt as though it were falling into place. The gentle feel of his hands on you had you quivering to the core, but when he leaned his head forward and his warm breath fanned across your bottom lip, you lost that train of thought. 

“M-Maverick,” You squeaked.

He shook his head.

“Don’t think… Just do,” His words laced your ears. 

You did exactly what he asked. You stopped thinking, and just did what you wanted to do. Leaning forward and closing the remaining gap, he brushed his lips across yours. Your eyes closed and you swore that fireworks went off in your head. 

His lips were velvety soft against yours. You couldn’t stop the sweet, delicate moan that left your mouth, one that Pete swallowed with proudness. You kissed him in such a way, that he felt that if he didn’t keep kissing you – he wouldn’t be able to breathe. 

Stroking his fingers through your hair, you kissed him deeper until you were pulling away to gasp for air. Maverick stared at you, green eyes ablaze as he tried to decipher what was happening – that swirling look in your eye worried him. 

Had he just ruined everything? 

“Y/N? Sweetheart, talk to me,” He caressed your cheekbone. 

You offered him a warm smile.

“My wish came true, Maverick,” You announced, smiling sweetly. 

Maverick grinned, pulling you in for another kiss.

tagging:

@erinallene

@natasharomanoffisbaebby@hallecarey1@luckyladycreator2@pastel-0-princess@mysticaldonkey

SEBASTIAN STAN For Entertainment Weekly By Miller Mobley

undrunk

summary: your friends with benefits situation with bucky takes a turn that could break your heart

pairing: frat!bucky x reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit language, consumption of alcohol, implied smut, mention of previous cheating (not bucky), reader may have a slight drinking problem, bad rebounds, one (1) game of spin the bottle, bucky is kind of a dick but also reader is kind of crazy, slightly toxic but it works out in the end, like the tiniest bit of fluff (if you squint). loosely based on undrunk by fletcher

a/n: here she is, the long awaited frat!bucky. i hope this was worth the wait, and everyone enjoys the happy ending i tried to do. if you like this please make sure to reblog and comment - i appreciate every single one!!

main masterlist ─ i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary and turn on notifications for fic updates!

You were woken up by the click of your bedroom closing, and the soft sound of padded feet through your hallway and out the front door. You squeezed your eyes tight, willing the tears not to come as you rolled over and checked the time. 5am. At least he was consistent.

It was stupid - you were stupid - to let this happen again. Bucky had broken your heart enough times that you should know better by now. But you never learn.

You guessed you couldn’t really blame him. He had made it clear to you from the very first night that he wasn’t interested in a relationship. That it would only ever be sex. Of course, when you’re half drunk and desperate for him to just fuck you already, you agree to anything. No one could blame you for a one night mistake.

No, the real pain came from the months after. The 1am texts and the secret touches. Because with those came the silly pictures and the late night talks as he laid in your bed. With it came the desperate want for more. Even when you knew it wasn’t possible.

So you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as the tears streamed down your face, knowing you had no one to blame but yourself.

-

Despite the ache in your chest, there was one thing you could never say no to: a party. Maybe you should learn to stay away from them, considering that’s how you ended up in Bucky’s bed in the first place, but you just couldn’t; there was nothing like the sweet release of drinking your pain away.

At the very least, you could stay away from Bucky’s frat house. Or that’s what you told yourself.

Somehow, though, you ended up in the basement of the Phi Gamma Delta house, even though you specifically told Wanda not to let you anywhere near Fiji tonight. Not after your conversation with Bucky a few days ago.

Not after he had accidentally stayed the night, and you thought it meant more. Not after you had asked him to go to breakfast and he practically sprinted for the door.

But you hadn’t seen him yet, so that was a plus. There was always a chance he had skipped out on the festivities for the night. Maybe he had gone home to Brooklyn for the weekend, or maybe he was upstairs in his room and you could just -

Your thoughts were cut off by the cheers of the group of people around you, and you turned to see Sam in the middle finishing off a handle of vodka. In your experience, that could only mean one thing.

“Let’s play spin the bottle!” Sam shouted as the last burn of the liquor coursed through him. Having no reason to say no, you made room for yourself in the circle and patiently waited your turn.

Sam gave a dramatic look around the room, before spinning the bottle with a twist of his wrist. Everyone watched as the glass slowed, anxious to see who the first person to kiss the frat president would be tonight. To your surprise, the bottle came to a slow stop on you.

You looked up with slightly panicked eyes. Even in your inebriated state, you could recognize that kissing one of Bucky’s brothers probably wasn’t the greatest idea. But then you remembered the look of absolute terror on his face at the mention of more. And Sam was moving across the circle to you, and Steve - Bucky’s best friend - wasn’t saying anything and so you came to the conclusion that you did with most things: fuck it.

When Sam’s warm lips met yours, you felt… nothing. No spark, nothing beyond acknowledging he was a good kisser. It lasted less than 10 seconds before you were pulling away and spinning the bottle yourself.

Which is how you ended up kissing half the people at the party: Peter - everyone’s favorite pledge, Natasha - your chemistry lab partner, and Scott - who you had never met before but was as funny as he was a good kisser, just to name a few.

The game continued until it dwindled down to a handful of people and you switched to another drinking game. One which you were losing terribly and it showed in your glassy eyes and drunken babble.

The last thing you remembered was the feel of strong hands on your hips, the soft plush of a mattress, and an ache between your thighs.

-

A beam of sunlight burned across your face, enunciating the raging headache you had after going to bed without Advil or an acceptable amount of water. You could have sworn you closed your blinds, but figured you must have opened them up at some point during the day before.

It wasn’t until you reached for the bottle of water you usually kept on your nightstand and grasped air instead that you realized you were, in fact, not in your own bed.

You shot up before groaning at the rush of dizziness to your head. Slowly, you blinked until the room came into focus, and assessed the damage of your night.

You were naked, so that wasn’t a good sign. You remembered sloppy kisses and hushed whispers of are you sure? And at least whoever it was was just as drunk as you were, so there was no harm done in your mind.

That was, until you realized who you had spent your drunken night with.

Broad shoulders gave way to a freckled back and narrow waist. The tuft of blond hair was a mess, like he - or you - had run hands through it, a lot. You knew there was no one else you could be, but when he rolled over, his long lashes fluttering awake, it was confirmed.

“Steve?” you hissed, still in shock. “What the fuck happened?”

At the unmistakable sound of your voice, his eyes snapped open, and he nearly fell to the floor.

“Y/N? Fuck, fuck! Bucky is gonna kill me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” you scoffed, and you wanted to crush the little bit of hope that creeped into your mind. No, he had made it clear there was nothing more than sex between you. But off course he wouldn’t want his best friend to sleep with the same girl. Bro code or whatever.

God, his best friend. This was worse than Sam, who he’d only known a couple of years. This was his other half since they were practically in the womb. You couldn’t have chosen a worse rebound.

Wanting to forget the mess you had just made of your life, you quickly pulled on your clothes while Steve watched with wary eyes, though he didn’t say anything else about Bucky.

“Are you okay?” You heard Steve’s timid voice as you were about to pull open his door. The motherfucker was such a sweetheart, and you couldn’t handle crying on top of everything else right now.

You were so close to just leaving without a word; that would have been easier on everyone. But damn Steven Rogers, so charming without even trying. You walked back to his bed where he had sat watching you, and gave him a quick kiss. It was a thank you and an apology and a let’s never talk about this again all in one, and he seemed to understand.

Pressing your ear to the door, you made sure no one was in the hall before you slipped out of his room. It would be your luck if Bucky was coming out of his room across the hall at the same moment you were leaving his best friend.

Thankfully, the hall was empty, and you couldn’t hear the usual chatter that came from the frat house, so you figured they must all still be sleeping off their hangovers. You pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber, figuring your best bet was to wait outside on the steps for the few minutes it would take to pick you up. You were so engrossed in your phone you didn’t hear the clatter of plates in the kitchen or the abrupt stop of voices.

When you finally reached the bottom of the stairs, you felt eyes on you, and you looked up to see Bucky staring at you from the kitchen.

You couldn’t have predicted how much it would hurt to see his face, even after only a few days. You also couldn’t have expected the gut-wrenching feeling that came with him cooking breakfast… for someone else.

Not just anyone else, Dot, the beautiful redhead from Chi Omega that you had always been insecure about, even before Bucky.

Flashes of walking in on your ex-boyfriend buried between her thighs had you stumbling back, and Bucky could do nothing but watch as you made your way to the front door. You could even hear the snicker of Dot’s voice just before you slammed the door shut behind you.

-

The great thing about having your own apartment is you could get wine drunk every night of the week and no one was there to judge you for it.

So every night for the next week, you poured yourself a glass before you started on your homework, and were happily tipsy by the time you took a shower and fell into bed. Some may call it a problem, but they weren’t around to know.

You got so used to the feeling that by the time Thursday night rolled around and you had nothing to do but drink, you went a little overboard.

After the first glass you didn’t even bother with any etiquette, instead drinking straight from the bottle until it was empty and you were hungry. You started a pot to boil while you uncorked another bottle, and had half of that down by the time your pasta was ready to be cooked. Trying to maneuver a pot of boiling water proved to be difficult with a bottle of wine in one hand, so you tried to set it down to give yourself room to work, but ended up knocking the handle of the pot, spilling hot water across your arm in the process.

Though it stung, your pride was the thing that took the most damage as you pressed a cold washcloth to your forearm. You slid down to sit on the tiled floor, bringing the bottle with you, and only when you drained the last of the liquid did you allow yourself to feel your emotions.

It started off with silent tears, hurt from the shards of your heart, and gradually your drunken mind spiraled until all you could feel was seething anger at the way Bucky had treated you.

How were you not supposed to catch feelings after Bucky was in your bed practically every weekend?

There were even nights where he came over just to study - although you supposed those always ended in hookups too. But he called you beautiful as he pushed into you, brushing your hair from your face and leaving delicate kisses across your flesh. He made you feel more than any other reoccurring hookup. You couldn’t believe you were the only one who felt the spark that always buzzed beneath the surface of your relationship.

Letting your anger and uninhibited brain fuel you, you grasped for your phone, dialing the number you now knew by heart.

The line rang once, twice, before he picked up, and at first all you could hear was the chatter of other people. He yelled something, muffled by his hand over the speaker, before you heard the sound of a door shutting and he finally spoke.

“Hello? Y/N?” He sounded relatively sober, which did not bode well for you. It was a lot harder to argue with someone when they weren’t as drunk as you were - and that’s exactly what you were looking for.

“James Barnes, you motherfucker.” You tried to sound confident and put together, but the tell-tale of slur coated your words. “You fucking suck, dude.”

“Why are you calling me?” You could hear the agitation in his words, and that made you even angrier.

“To tell you that you’re the fucking worst, James. You need to know that. I need you to know that.”

“God, Y/N, how drunk are you?”

“I’m not -” you hiccupped, giving yourself away even more. “I’m not drunk. You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not the one that’s wasted on a Thursday night. Jesus.” Surprisingly, you couldn’t hear any judgment in his tone - just disappointment. And maybe that hurt worse. What right did he have to be disappointed in you? You weren’t his anything.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that. Just don’t.” Your voice wavered and you could feel the tears coming again. “How could you?”

A deep sigh, like he knew this was coming. “How could I what?”

“You could have picked anyone but her, anyone but Dot. You know how I feel about her, and you fuck her? It’s like you don’t even care about me.”

“It’s not like that -” You cut him off, not wanting to hear whatever lies he spouted.

“Don’t bullshit me. You even cooked her breakfast. I thought you didn’t do relationships, huh? Or is it just that you don’t do relationships with me?” Finally, the dam cracked and you were sobbing and you heard Bucky sigh again, like you were a nuisance, like he had better things to do.

“Listen, Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re hurt, that you caught feelings, that you thought there was more. But I told you from the beginning that I didn’t want a relationship. More than once.” The truth of the words stung, but he wasn't done yet. No, Bucky had to make sure every piece of your heart was irreparable. “I’m not going to keep explaining myself to you, not when you’re acting crazy like this.”

“At least your best friend doesn’t think I’m crazy. And he was a better fuck anyways.” You were grappling for any way you could hurt him the way he had hurt you but he was a brick wall.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

Crazy. The word bounced around in your thoughts over and over, even after the call had ended. You stared at the kitchen wall, thinking about where everything had gone wrong. Where you had gone wrong.

Because this was your fault, and that was a hard pill to swallow. Bucky was right, he had been honest with you from the beginning, and you had held onto unfounded hopes.

In that moment all you could wish was to go back in time - to stop from getting drunk that first night. To stop your spitefulness and your anger. To stop from ever falling in love with him.

-

The next morning you woke up, still on the kitchen floor, with a splitting headache and dried tears coating your face.

You thanked the gods you didn’t have a class on Fridays as you stepped into the shower, feeling the ache of last night slowly wash off you. It was after that you decided, staring in the mirror at your sunken cheeks, that you would make a change. You would get your shit together.

You started with an apology to Steve, one he deserved long before now, then took the time to delete the pictures of Bucky from your phone. The ones that were private and you had kept for when you needed something to take the edge off of missing him. The thought filled you with guilt now, as you pressed delete and hoped he had done the same on his end. Then you texted your friends you had neglected the past couple months, the ones who tried to warn you and who had gotten sick of your own self sabotage.

The last thing you did was type out a text to Bucky, apologizing for your behavior, for the way you had treated him, and wishing him well. But you couldn’t bring yourself to send it, so it sat undelivered in your phone until you could finally bring yourself to delete the entire text thread.

You knew you should delete his number too, erase any temptation, but it was just something you couldn’t bring yourself to do.

The urge to text him and explain yourself took a while to go away, especially when you found out that Bucky wasn’t lying about nothing happening with Dot, that she was there because her sorority sister had needed a ride home that morning, and she just so happened to catch Bucky in the kitchen.

You beat yourself up for that one, though you knew it wouldn’t have made a difference. There was never anything more for you and Bucky, regardless of who he did or didn’t sleep with. That was the hardest part to get over.

But you did it.

You stopped going to frat parties, too, deciding that part of your life was over. You threw yourself into your studies and before you knew it, May was approaching and you were just a couple weeks from graduation.

Preparing for one last hoorah with your friends, you met Wanda at your favorite bar downtown - dressed up for the first time in a while, and drinking more than a single glass of wine with dinner since that phone call with Bucky.

Who, speak of the devil, walked in just as you were grabbing a tray of drinks off the bartop. You locked eyes, but quickly hustled back to your table as you saw him attempt to push through the crowd towards you.

You thought he had gotten the hint, because you only saw him in quick glances from across the bar after that, until you made your way to the bathroom, brushing Wanda off when she offered to come with you.

Unfortunately, there was only a single stall that was annoyingly occupied, so you leaned back against the wall and waited.

You were scrolling through Twitter, contemplating going full Maddy from euphoria and banging on the door, when you felt a presence beside you. You knew without looking up exactly who it was.

Slowly, you slipped your phone in your pocket and turned to look up at him.

He was devastating. Just as charming and handsome as you remembered, and it was a struggle for a moment to catch your breath.

“Hi,” he whispered, and you wondered if maybe he was thinking the same thing about you. You could only be so foolish to hope. “I’ve missed you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, and you wanted to shove the feeling down but suddenly his hands were cupping your face and he was just a breath away.

“I was an idiot, to say the least, and I’m sorry it took a few months of missing you everyday to realize that.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It felt like a fever dream - awful and amazing all at once. “Could you give me a chance to not be an idiot?”

What you should do was tell him no, that you had moved on, that he didn’t mean anything to you anymore.

But you had always been a terrible liar.

Instead of falling into his arms like you desperately wanted to, like the you of six months ago would have, you pressed a kiss to his cheek - a forgiveness and a dismissal all in one - and walked back to your table.

After exchanging goodbyes with your friends, you sent one last look Bucky’s way before heading home.

-

It had been a few days since you’d heard from Bucky, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.

Although you had wanted to forgive him and move on that night at the bar, a part of you held back. You wanted to make sure it wasn’t a result of him being drunk and lonely. And unfortunately it seemed your suspicions were right.

You’d spent the days since then with your phone always in arm’s reach, hoping he would call, but on the third day of nothing, you had accepted your fate.

Just as you were about to run a bath and block out the world for a little while, there was a knock at your door. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you shoved it back down along with the lingering hope that it would be Bucky on the other side.

Preparing yourself for anything, you swung the door open to the one person you wanted above all else - Bucky Barnes, weighed down with… grocery bags?

“Uh,” you weren’t quite sure what to say, and the sheepish smile on his face was one you had never seen before.

“Can I come in?” He asked, lifting up the bags. “These are pretty heavy.”

Wordlessly, you stepped aside, and he set the bags down on the counter. When you peaked inside them, you were surprised to find an array of breakfast foods. You sent him a questioning look, waiting for some sort of explanation.

“I spent the last few days thinking about how I could prove to you that I was serious. Probably have about 50 unsent texts. After everything, I thought I could start with breakfast. Low stakes, and you don’t have to decide anything right now. Just let me be here with you.”

Although you had decided the moment you saw him on your doorstep, you let him cook you breakfast. You let him open up in ways he never had before. You let yourself fall more in love with him, knowing he was doing the same with you.

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Devious

Explicit Bonus Chapter - Relative Dating

Archival Evidence | Relative Dating Bonus Scenes Masterlist

Pairing: Indiana Jones x Reader

Rating: 18+ Only. Minors interacting with this work will be blocked.

Notes: Welcome back to the latest garbage fire! A companion chapter to this week’s Relative Dating; can be read without, though it does allude to the story’s characters and some events.

Warnings: Cursing; period-typical expectations of women; explicit sexual content—fingering, finger sucking, vaginal sex

Summary: These sensations are everything you’ve been raised to fear—unabashed pleasure at the hands of a man that anyone could claim has corrupted you.

Beyond your tender sighs, moans, and the heady, sharply drawn-in breaths that each of you take, you can vaguely hear sand and wind beginning to rasp against your window. Indiana’s hands slide over the coolness of your nightgown. He bunches up the fabric at your hips, pushing you more sharply against the wall. You hiss in a breath at the way the light switch digs into your back.

“Is there any chance of us making it somewhere more comfortable?” You grumble. Indiana chuckles, drawing you away from the wall.

“You’re telling me you don’t like being taken exclusively standing up?”

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Oh my god! Sebastian Stan! Man, you’re looking good!