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zepskies · 5 months

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Wake Me Up - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse! Let me tell you, I’ve had this mini series outlined for months, but now I thought it was finally time to get to it. If you’re not tired of the Break Me Down world yet, I very much hope you enjoy Wake Me Up.

**As a reminder, this story is set shortly after Love Actually, and will contain references from that three-part story.

Song Inspo: For this whole series it’s “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers. (I pretty much listened to this on repeat.)

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Starting off strong in this one: with mature themes, show level violence, angst, kidnapping, PTSD, mentions of torture (not too graphic), and character death.

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 1: “Familiar Territory”

The start of a new year continued a steady rhythm for you and Ben. Namely, another successful mission for the Supe Affairs team.

While you were patched into the team’s communications line from the safety of your desk back at the S.A. headquarters in New York, your friends were a few states over in Denver, Colorado. They’d just arrested a supe that had been committing a series of bank robberies by literally slipping away from the police, thanks to his particular superpower.

“Somebody better get this shit off of me,” M.M. groused.

He wasn’t too happy about some questionable ooze this particular supe secreted as a defense mechanism. According to Frenchie’s research, it was the same shit that certain frogs could produce to repel predators.

“Need a good hose down, more like,” said Butcher. “You smell fuckin’ foul.”

“Like Satan’s ass crack,” Ben remarked.

You couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement.

“Let’s just get the fuck outta here,” M.M. said, his tone all surly, as per usual. You didn’t envy his plight.

“Good job, guys,” you said, to change the subject. “Now it’s just a short flight back to New York.”

“No layovers this time. I’m not being paid to rot in a fucking airport with a bunch of mouth-breathing assholes and their screaming brats,” Ben said.

Charming. You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips when you imagined his taciturn face.

“Okay, your majesty. I’ll make sure it’s a nonstop flight,” you said. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

That last bit, you said with a hint of more behind your words. You drummed your nails on your desk and crossed your legs underneath it. A week was a long time for you and your boyfriend to be apart, and you’d been missing him.

“You better be,” Ben said. His voice was deep and cocky. He was smirking, you were sure, and you knew that he’d understood you perfectly well.

“Anybody else hearing this blatant foreplay?” Hughie quipped.

“I sense cheeks will be cracked tonight,” Frenchie muttered.

“Ugh!” you heard Annie shudder.

You knew she supported you and Ben, but you also knew that she didn’t want to hear about the gushy details. You laughed through your embarrassment.

“Okay, guys. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” you said, before you officially signed off.

You grabbed your purse that was stowed away in a desk drawer, fished out your cell phone, and you called Ben’s cell. He picked up on the second ring.

“Yeah?” he said.

“I love you,” you said with a smile. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” he replied. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

You pouted. “Come on, say it.”

“Say what?”

You sighed. You knew he was being deliberately obtuse.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

Part of you was upset that he didn’t say it back as often as you liked. God forbid Butcher and the others hear him express his affection for you.

But you supposed you understood that any kind of vulnerability was difficult for him, especially in front of others. As much shit as you gave him, you also knew how to pick your battles with Ben.

“I told you. I’ll see you soon,” he said.

You once again tapped your nails, on your armrest this time. After a moment, you relented.

“Okay, baby. Have a safe flight,” you said, even if you were still frowning.

When Ben hung up with you, he let out a deep sigh.

An entire week with these juvenile cocksuckers was almost too much for him to fucking take. While he often felt your presence with you on the comm line during the actual mission, and the occasional phone call on long nights in between, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough.

He was ready to go home.

The flight itself was fine, though dealing with civilians and the tiring experience of a long-ass flight made him even more antsy to land. Because even when they got to JFK, he still had a hired car waiting for him to drive him from the airport to get to Scarsdale, and to the apartment he shared with you. It had already been almost a year of you two living there, in a three-bedroom spanning two floors.

Ben hadn’t thought he would get used to such a small place, but it was all right. It had become his home, far more than the penthouses and party mansions ever were, at least.

When he finally got home and unlocked the front door of the apartment, he stepped into darkness. All the lights were off.

Odd, he thought. He called your name while he shut the door behind him, then flicked on the foyer light. He realized then that he hadn’t seen your car in the driveway. Were you still working? It wasn’t unlike you to get caught up with the paperwork and other logistics after a case.

After a quick look around of each room, from the kitchen to the living room, Ben knew you hadn’t come home yet. A frown marred his face.

He went upstairs and entered the bedroom next. He unclipped his wrist guards and took his gloves off first, followed by loosening the collar of his supe suit. The bed was made, untouched since this morning, he was sure.

Then he noticed the scrap of paper resting on his pillow. He picked it up, and his brows furrowed as he read.

By the time you find me, she’ll wish she was dead.

Ben called Grace Mallory first.

When she didn’t answer, he called Butcher next. Ben’s hand shook the slightest bit while holding the phone up to his ear.

“Evenin’, guv,” Butcher answered with a tired sigh. “What’s this about—”

“We have a fucking problem,” Ben growled.

Ben pushed the limits of his Mercedes Benz while driving himself to Supe Affairs.

The others met him there in a conference room, except for Grace, who was on an active case at the moment. There Hughie and Frenchie tapped into the S.A. security footage on their laptops.

They eventually found you getting into your car in the S.A. garage, about four hours ago. Then two later, the street cameras picked you up somewhere in the Village. Ben recognized the street.

You probably had dinner with your friend Yvette and her family, but you intended to make it home on time to meet Ben when you left around 9:00 p.m.

You had parallel parked at a meter on the street. According to the footage, it looked quiet and empty when you headed back to your car.

You were stopped by someone before you could get the driver’s side door open. It looked like a man’s height and build; he grabbed you by the shoulder and threw a punch you managed to dodge.

You put up a good fight, but you were eventually knocked out with what looked to be a crowbar, at first glance. When Hughie zoomed in, it was actually a black baton. Ben watched it all with a deepening frown. Anger churned in his gut and ignited his blood as he watched your unconscious body being hauled into a black SUV.

“That looks military-issued,” M.M. said, pointing at the baton that the suspect used to hit you.

Butcher nodded, and also noted the man’s fighting style. “That’s a professional.”

“He would have to be, to take her out,” M.M. said, glancing at Ben. “And the timing. They knew you were coming home. That note was personal, besides the fact that they were casing your place…they’ve probably been watching both of you, waiting for the chance to get the jump on you.”

“The question,” Butcher said, “is who the fuck would wanna tangle with Soldier Boy that badly?”

“Shit. That’s a laundry list, isn’t it?” Hughie said. M.M.’s glance told him to shut the fuck up.

Ben was silent, but his fury was mounting. His head turned sharply to Butcher.

“Get Mallory on the line. Now,” he barked. When no one moved quick enough for him, his temper snapped at its thinly held leash.

“I said right fucking now!”

Slowly you blinked your eyes open. For a moment, you were seeing in double vision. It soon cleared up to reveal dark, damp, musty surroundings.

It smelled familiar; after that mission to find and subdue Sapphire a couple of months ago, you’d recognize a New York sewer anywhere.

Fuuucking shit, you thought with a groan. Your head was aching. You felt a trickle of blood down the side of your neck, and you found yourself in a familiar position—seated on a metal chair with your hands secured behind your back. Your restraints felt like zip ties.

“You finally with us, sweetheart?” asked a man. His voice was smooth and commanding.

“Jackson, I don’t know about this,” whispered someone else. Another man, though he sounded slightly younger, reminding you of Hughie.

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” Jackson snapped.

At least you had a name. He stepped into the light that came from a couple of small lanterns. One was propped on top of a bucket by the wall. The other was on a plastic fold out table that you saw a few feet beside you.

The man who stepped into your line of vision was tall, maybe around Ben’s height, if just shy of his build. He was blonde, just like his skinnier friend. They shared some notable facial features and coloring, but while Jackson’s eyes were dark brown and self-assured, the younger man’s were blue and apprehensive. If you had to guess, they looked like brothers.

“Nice digs,” you remarked, gesturing with your gaze at your surroundings.

Jackson rose a brow, crossing his arms.

“You’re taking all this pretty well,” he said.

You huffed humorlessly.

“This isn’t exactly my first kidnapping,” you said.

He quirked his head and drew closer.

“All right. Well, since we’re on the clock, let me tell you why you’re here,” he said. He bent down in front of you so that his face was level with yours. “I need you, sweetheart. You’re going to tell me how to bring down Soldier Boy. How to kill him. How to end him. Then maybe, I’ll let you go without gouging out those pretty eyes.”

You stared back at Jackson with an expression that didn’t change.

Then you spat in his face.

And you expected the hard, back-handed slap that made your head whip to the side. It rattled you for a moment as you caught your breath, but you recovered enough to lean back in your seat. Your eyes met Jackson’s directly after he wiped his face with his shirt. “Tommy” stood off to the side behind his partner. He’d looked away when you were hit.

You focused on the other man, Jackson. He was wearing black cargo pants to match his boots, and a belt with a gun on his hip. He carried himself like a trained killer.

“Military, government agency, or private sector?” you asked.

His head tilted. He studied you, just like you were studying him.

“None of the above really,” he said. “Not anymore.”

He walked over to the fold out table, where he grabbed a black bag and unzipped it. A flash of silver gleamed as he pulled out one sharp instrument after the next. You had to hide your apprehension, and fear that made your insides tremble.

He glanced over at you.

“Let’s get started,” he said.

Hours later, you were teetering on the edge of consciousness.

After the last hit, you spat a wad of phlegm and blood onto Jackson’s shoes. He rotated the ache out of his hand. He looked down at you through furrowed brows.

“Damn, bitch,” he said, catching his breath. “You can take a hit. I’ll give you that.”

“My dad was a Marine, numb nuts,” you managed to reply, through labored breaths. “He used to hit harder with his open hand than all the strength in that limp-dick wrist of yours.”

Jackson smirked. “Christ. Daddy issues, huh? Why doesn’t that surprise me.”

You gave him a droll look. Again, to cover your fear, because you weren’t willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

Angered and frustrated by that defiance, he reached down and grabbed your neck and jaw with one hand. You winced at the force of his grip, but when he started squeezing, this was the one thing that made you truly whimper. You tried not to think about the ghost of your father’s hand around your neck.

“Don’t you get it, asshole?” you gritted out while struggling for breath. “You can’t kill him. No one can. Stronger, smarter people than you have tried.”

Moments ticked by while Jackson contemplated your words.

Then he released you. You sucked in gulps of air and tried not to cough out a lung.

“Maybe,” he said. “But Soldier Boy’s got a weakness. If anyone knows it, I’ve got a feeling it’s you.”

You can’t say anything. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

That had been your mantra for every minute you had spent in this hole. You shook your head.

“Look, Jackson.” You sucked in another breath to steady yourself, and blink a drip of blood out of your eyes. “He’s going to kill you. You and your brother. Take your family and run, while you’ve still got a chance.”

“…You know what? You’re probably right,” Jackson said, scratching the back of his head with his crimson-stained hand. “But I just realized something.”

He leaned down again, until he was level with your face.

“When he finds you, drowned in your own goddamn blood…I think the look on his face might just be enough for me.”

Your eyes widened.

It took days. Three painful days to pick up the threads, which led closer to home than anyone could’ve anticipated.

Grace Mallory put pressure across the chain of command, and even reached out to the FBI for assistance. An alert email finally came to her phone, and she realized that an agent on her own payroll had been flagged for never reporting back for his debriefing on a reconnaissance mission.

That agent was Jackson Rawlins.

The further she read into his file, the worse her frown became. She immediately sent the lead to Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team to run down. For the first time in years, Grace actually prayed.

She prayed that they would reach you in time. It wasn’t until then that she realized it; she hadn’t thought of you as a cog in her system for some time now—not even as leverage against Soldier Boy. She was genuinely concerned about you.

Grace worried that she was setting herself up for disappointment…if it was too late. However, she also worried about what would happen if you didn’t survive. She considered how Ben might react, with that nuclear power within him that he was still learning to control. The consequences of this mission could very well be catastrophic.

You were losing track of time in this windowless pit. You knew it had been days, but you didn’t remember how many. The cellar was cold, and the way sound and air traveled, it felt like you were underground. It certainly smelled like it—damp and gross. It made you certain this was a sewer.

Now this is Satan’s ass crack, you thought. You winced at the pain that radiated…pretty much everywhere. Blood had dried from various lacerations across your face, neck, chest, and arms, and bruises were dark against your skin.

Your blouse was in tatters, and your jeans had bleeding rips as well, though at least he’d kept your ankle boots on. You were too weak even for hunger. And a large, heavy chain attached to manacles on your wrists had replaced the zip ties. One end of the chain was fastened between the wall and a line of plumbing.

Footsteps echoed down the hall behind you. You closed your eyes and steeled yourself.

“Are we actually gonna have a conversation today?” Jackson asked.

“Depends,” you replied, your voice dry and coarse. “Are you going to tell me why you hate Ben so much?”

An angry sigh escaped Jackson’s lips. He pointed up in frustration.

“Ben.” Jackson rolled and cracked his neck, like just the mention of your boyfriend’s real name was disgusting to this man.

“You talk about him like he’s a real fucking person. Not like the animal supe he is,” he said.

“He is a person,” you said, both in exhaustion, and in pain. “And he’s trying to be better. Look, he’s done terrible things. I’m not saying he hasn’t. I don’t know what he’s done to you in the past, but—”

Jackson shut you up with a sharp backhand. It made black spots encroach on your vision as you caught your breath.

You noticed his brother Tom come in the room as well, to watch and worry. He didn’t seem comfortable with this way of things. He looked like a civilian. Maybe you could use that to your advantage…

But you lost track of thought after that, when Jackson started in on you with either his hands, or the creativity of the instruments on the table nearby.

You tried to block out the pain, along with his questions about Ben. If you couldn’t talk about him, you couldn’t let yourself think about him. So you couldn’t say anything.

Not about the Novichok nerve agent, one of the few things that had been found to incapacitate him. Not his imprisonment by Vought or the S.A.—nothing that your captor could one day use against Ben.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

Even though all you wanted right now was him.

Ben, please…

You zoned in and out of consciousness from there.

When you next registered being awake, mercifully, you were left alone. You raised your head when Tom came to blot at least some of your wounds and give you water. You’d only eaten small pieces of protein bars for days.

“I’m sorry,” Tom whispered.

“Why does he want Ben?” you wheezed. “Why are you going along with this if you’re so damn sorry?”

Tom looked up at you with pain and grief in his blue eyes. He sighed and dragged a nearby chair from the table. He sat beside you while he fed you half a protein bar. It was a struggle to even get the pieces down.

“Last year,” said Tom, clearing his throat. “I lived in the building that Soldier Boy blew up when he got back from…wherever the Russians had him.”

Your eyes widened as you processed that. “You…but you made it out. Why—”

“I wasn’t home. I was at work,” Tom said. His voice was pained as his eyes became red and glassy. “Our mom wasn’t so lucky.”

You sighed, closing your eyes.

“She was retired, and I was taking care of her,” Tom said. He wiped at his eyes and sniffed. “Jackson wasn’t here. He was on a mission in Colombia. Told me he was cleaning up some cartel shit.”

At that, you had a sneaking suspicion that coiled in your gut. Ben had left a bit of a mess when he peaced out of Colombia, with an entire plane filled with drugs and weapons from whatever cartel he’d infiltrated. (In his words, he’d cut the head off the snake.)

Grace told you she’d sent a team in to handle that mess…

“Your brother—who does he work for?” you asked. Though you had a feeling you knew the answer.

Tom seemed to read your understanding, and his face turned grim.

“The CIA,” he said.

Fuck, you grimaced. So not only had Ben been responsible for their mother’s death, but Jackson had been part of the team that cleaned up his mess in South America. It explained why Jackson was somehow able to find your information; Supe Affairs had become a subsect of the CIA, thanks to Grace.

“I didn’t know he was planning this. I swear to God. All he said was that he had a way to get at Soldier Boy,” Tom said. You let out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I really am,” you said. Tears welled up hot in your eyes. “But you need to let me go. For your own safety, believe me.”

You saw the guilt, the sadness, the regret on Tom’s face. The brief indecision was overtaken when he glanced down the hall. You knew then that he was more afraid of his own brother than he was willing to do the right thing.

Your tears spilled over, though you tried to breathe through it. You’d tried to save them for when you were alone, those seldom few, cold hours, but you were reaching your breaking point.

“Okay, before I go, do you have to use the bathroom?” Tom asked. There was a bucket in the corner, and Jackson preferred it away from the chair. It was the only time Tom was allowed to unchain you from the wall and let you stretch your legs.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, you nodded in agreement. It was humiliating to know you were going to have to do this yet again, in a bucket, with company. With the manacles still on your wrists, he brought you over to the “special” corner.

Tom sighed and looked away to give you some semblance of privacy.

That was when you used every scrap of energy you had left in you.

You grabbed the chain and yanked it out of his hands long enough to wrap it around his neck from behind. You cut off his sounds of strain and kicked out his knees, so he was forced to kneel on the ground.

You wrapped the rest of the chain around your thigh, giving you the leverage you needed to tighten your grip and choke him out, until he was unconscious. His body fell to the side, and you heaved for breath. Once again, there were black spots in your vision, but you did your best to blink them away.

Now set with determination, you made your way to the plastic table and searched for the key to your chains. After the manacles were unlocked, you rubbed at your raw wrists and rapidly scanned the room. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you calculated which way you should go to try and escape.

There were three possibilities in this clearing under the sewer: left, right, or straight ahead. Every time Tom or Jackson emerged, it sounded like it was behind you. The chair was facing to the east, which meant you had to take the left tunnel.

You ran in that direction and tried to find a metal ladder that would take you to whatever manhole cover these guys had detached. Someone couldn’t just open up any of those iron plates without the right tools, from the inside or the outside.

You walked as fast as you could manage, even though your entire body protested in pain. Then finally, you saw a black duffel bag lying on the ground, against the wall. Next to it was a metal ladder that went all the way up to the top.

“Jackson, don’t!”

You heard Tom’s voice, but you felt the presence behind you too late. Jackson hit you in the back of the head with that damn baton, so hard that even he grimaced at how the sound echoed on the walls. You crumpled to the ground.

Jackson stood over you with a grim set to his face. He turned to his brother with a shake of his head.

“She’s a walking welt, and you couldn’t handle her?” he said.

“This is too much,” Tom said in worry. He bent down and held two fingers to your neck. He still felt a pulse, at least, but when he felt behind your head, he found blood. His hand shook as he stared at it.

“If you didn’t want in on this, you should’ve said so from the beginning,” said Jackson. He spun the baton in his hand and clipped the hilt to his belt, from a small metal loop on the end of it.

“You didn’t say anything about…about this!” Tom argued. He cleaned your blood off on his jacket.

Jackson regarded his brother with disappointment, and he hefted you up into his arms. Tom followed him back to their setup with your makeshift prison. There Jackson left you lying on the ground, and chained you back up by your wrists for good measure. He then literally and figuratively wiped his hands of you.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” he said. “For good this time.”

Tom looked at you, then his brother in shock. There was even emotion in his eyes.

“We’re leaving her to die,” he said, his voice unsteady. He knew then, that their mother wouldn't have wanted this in her name. If she saw both of them now, she wouldn't recognize them.

Jackson grabbed his younger brother where his neck met his shoulder. An iron grip.

“And what do you think Soldier Boy is going to do if he finds us?” Jackson asked. His gaze encouraged Tom to explore that reality for a moment.

Jackson nodded at your unconscious form. “Trust me, that bitch was never going to talk. But this is almost better.”

It wasn’t right, Tom thought. He knew it, deep in his heart, but he wasn’t strong like his brother, or even like you.

That was when they heard it. The rumble of engines dying and tires rolling overhead, dislodging a few stray pebbles and dust from the ceiling. Jackson’s eyes widened.

“Fuck!” he muttered. “All right, let’s go.”

Jackson forced his younger brother to leave the sewer with him, and leave you chained up on the floor.

Ben, Butcher, M.M., and Frenchie had done much of the legwork in tracking down Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom (with help from Annie, Kimiko, and Hughie of course). Frenchie had found your likely location with a powerful thermal scanner, courtesy of Grace.

Now, they’d driven up to the wide alley in the city and blocked off all the exits on the block. Ben was the first to get his boots on the ground and stride toward the point of entry, where according to Frenchie’s scanners, more than one body was holed up in the sewer. He held his shield at his side and at the ready when the manhole cover loosened, and slid open.

A small gas bomb rolled out towards his feet, but it was just tear gas, not the kind of thing that could actually affect him. Ben picked up the little round ball of metal and crushed it in his hand. While the rest of the team dove for the oxygen masks stored in the car, Ben stalked forward.

Seeing the silhouette of a man, Ben threw his shield hard enough to rattle a supe.

Jackson Rawlins was thrown clean onto his back with a force that stole the breath from his lungs, even through his gas mask. It also broke half a dozen ribs. Ben was soon bearing on top of him and ripping off the mask.

Jackson cried out as remnants of the tear gas seared his eyes.

“Got us a runner!” Butcher shouted. He intercepted and grabbed up a second man who tried to escape. Tom Rawlins wasn’t the threat, but he still wasn’t going free. M.M. and Frenchie also dove down into the sewer to try and find you after they got their gas masks on.

Meanwhile, Ben hauled Jackson up by his neck and walked him back until he hit the brick wall beside a nail salon. Jackson grunted in pain. Every breath he took was now agonizing, thanks to his now battered and broken ribs.

“Where is she?” Ben demanded.

Jackson actually laughed in his face, despite his now bloodshot eyes.

“All you fucking supes are the same,” he said. “But you…you’re the worst. Quite literally, the original asshole. And what does the government do? What does the world do? Gives you a pass on decades of indiscretions, fuck ups, and straight up murder.”

Ben didn’t outwardly react, but he knew what Jackson’s problem was. He knew he killed the man’s family. Collateral damage—something that had caused Ben more than one argument with you in the past.

But he didn’t care.

He didn’t care, because all he could see in his mind’s eye was a metal bat hitting the back of your head and knocking you clean out. He saw you being taken against your will. Taken from him. And that, he couldn’t abide.

“Where. Is she?” Ben said, as his grip flexed around the other man’s neck. It would be easy. Easier than snapping a toothpick. And he warned, “Don’t make me fucking repeat myself.”

“Dead, probably,” Jackson spat, despite his red and bleary eyes. “Real tough bitch. I see why you’re fucking her…I had me a little taste myself.”

In that moment, Ben couldn’t compute.

His green eyes widened. His breath stilled.

Then his jaw clenched so tight that his teeth were grinding. A fire in his blood and behind his eyes, and fury that burned hot in his chest, almost giving it that nuclear glow.

His hand tightened and choked any salacious words Jackson might’ve spewed out next.

“He didn’t!” Tom shouted out. He was being restrained by Butcher. Ben glanced at them out of the corner of his eye.

“He didn’t touch her. Not like that,” Tom said. He looked sincere.

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” said his older brother.

It earned Ben’s attention back. Jackson had the look of a man who knew he was going to die either way.

Ben’s lips curled into a sneer. He took the man’s head with both hands, and slowly crushed his skull. The scream echoed between Ben’s ears, but he was only satisfied when Jackson’s lifeless body dropped at his feet.

He turned to the other Rawlins next.

Tom had screamed as well to watch his brother’s life ended before his eyes. He now stared straight into Soldier Boy’s, pleading wordlessly for his own life. Ben started toward him.

“Please,” Tom said. He tried twisting away from Butcher, who held firm to the man’s arm. The Brit knew all too well, the rage that Ben had in his blood.

“Ben,” Annie tried, and she even stepped forward. Butcher held a hand out against her with a knowing look. It wouldn’t be wise to stand in the way.

“Hey!” M.M. shouted up from down the open hatch of the sewer. “We found her! Need help getting her loose.”

Ben paused in his steps. Tom was shaking, lips trembling, petrified.

Tilting his head, Ben let out a subtle breath through his nose. He began to turn back toward the sewer.

At the last moment, however, he drew his gun and shot Tom Rawlins between the eyes. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

Annie and Hughie flinched, but Butcher and Kimiko weren’t surprised in the least.

Meanwhile, Ben made his way back towards M.M.’s voice, and into the sewer. He heard M.M. and Frenchie arguing about first aid and head wounds, the further in he went. Ben’s dark mood blackened even more along the way.

Once he reached them, he also reached you, held in M.M.’s arms as he cradled your head.

You were unconscious with your wrists locked into heavy chains. The furrow between Ben’s brows deepened, but he got down to his knees beside you and first, broke your chains. He guided you out of M.M.’s arms and into his own, making sure to support your head. Blood was already staining his half-glove and fingers.

It was then that he noticed the small crimson pool lying where your body had been, likely from the wound he could feel at the back of your head. Ben’s mouth trembled the slightest bit, mostly in anger as he drew himself back onto his feet. Your body was littered with bruises, cuts both shallow and deep made by what looked like a blade, and God knew what else.

“I had me a little taste myself,” Jackson had taunted.

No, Ben internally shook that thought from his mind. No, you hadn’t been touched like that, at least, according to the sniveling, cock-sucking brother.

But can you trust that little cunt’s word?

Ben briefly closed his eyes, pressing his lips to your forehead. He continued walking down the hall and towards the light and fresh air of the world above.

You’re gonna be just fine, he promised you, if just within the safety of his mind.

Yeah, you would be all right.

He was going to make sure of it.

AN: 🫣 I'm sorry...BUT, I can promise it will get better (eventually). First, it's going to get worse.

Next Time:

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well trimmed.

His head soon raised, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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noiriarti · 2 months

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Just Practice: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Modern Best Friends AU) Ch. 3

NSFW!!!!!!! Literally so NSFW!!! Summary: Anakin is your best friend, the one person you can't survive without, and you're about to go to different colleges. You bring up your worries about your inexperience and he offers to help. Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x AFAB!Reader Word Count: 5.4k CW: usage of 'good girl,' rough sex, lots of masturbation, orgasm delay/denial, overstimulation AN: All the love for this fic has really blown me away!! This is quite possibly the raunchiest thing I've ever written and I hope you all enjoy it! As always, requests and asks are open!

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, [Ch. 3], Ch. 4, Bonus Chapter

Chapter 3: Black Lace

Did you love Anakin? Laying on your bed that night after he had just upended your world by kissing you for the first time, you were coming to realize that the answer was likely yes. You loved him platonically, that was a given, but the amount of desire you felt to hold his hand and kiss him wasn't quite normal friend behavior. Over the past year, you had found yourself breathless a couple of times that surprised you. Once, the two of you were wrestling over something (a water bottle? A keychain? It was unimportant), and he pinned you down harshly, a memory that plagued you when you were in bed touching yourself for three whole months after. His eyes, boring into you with that look that you now realized was desire haunted you.

Now that you had finally had his lips on yours, you had started thinking that you weren't just horny, that there was something there. Maybe you had always wanted him a little. Hearing about him and Padmé had made you jealous, but you chalked it up to how he had pulled away from you just slightly to spend more time with Padmé. But that was normal friend stuff, right? Sometimes, when you were in the stands, watching him play, and he ran over to the bench for a drink of water or during a break, his golden brown hair glinted in the sunlight, fluffy pulled back with a headband. The thin sheen of sweat would cover his brow, and Padmé would rush up to the front of the bleachers to wave to him and get his attention. When he waved back, which he always did, though with differing degrees of enthusiasm, you wished he was waving at you. Playing for you. That he'd run to you when he won the game like he ran to Padmé.

So that settled it. It turned out that you were in love with Anakin. What you would do about it depended entirely on him. If he was into you, awesome, but, if not, you couldn't risk your friendship. It was too important.

You made three decisions that night. First, you had to get through tomorrow at the airport with dignity, and not shake things up too much. Second, you had to "practice" with him again, and as soon as possible. Third, you could not get naked in front of him before you knew that he felt the same way about you. The third decision came from your own knowledge. If you were naked in front of him, and he didn't want to date you, you'd spend the rest of your life thinking this man has seen me naked, and he knows how my nipples look whenever you laid eyes on him. So you couldn't get naked yet, but you were planning to tell him how you felt as soon as you were more certain that he liked you than not.

It had been an incredibly horny two weeks for you. Your discovery that you, in fact, loved Anakin resulted in you getting horrendously turned on by every single move he made. Every text had you rushing to the lecture hall's bathroom to shove your hand down your pants. One time, he sent you his official team photo, in his pretty jersey, and you literally ran across campus to your dorm to jerk off. You were down horrendous.

Ahsoka had listened to all this (minus all the masturbation) with an amused expression and insisted that you were stupid, and he obviously liked you. But she didn't know him like you knew him. He was really, really friendly. This was all plausibly deniable. Ahsoka, however, was not stupid, so she just rolled her eyes. It was kind of cute, watching this develop. Ahsoka asked you if you'd seen any cute guys, and you mentioned that the guy who sat next to you in Intro to Sociology was passable, some guy named Jake who you exchanged numbers with for homework sessions. Jake didn't matter at all, though, really. You had eyes only for Anakin.

In your horny haze, you started watching more and more porn featuring men who kind of looked like him. When they would call the girls they were fucking sluts, you felt a shiver as you imagined Anakin saying that to you. In that one session, you really dropped down a rabbit hole that culminated in you taking the BDSM test and lighting up like a Christmas tree. Well, shit.

You desperately wanted to try some of what you had seen, so you found a local sex store and decided to go on Tuesday. There, you walked through the aisles and made mental notes, like research. In the back, you found a rack of lingerie in your size, one of which was a black lace set on sale. Perfect. They were out of fishnets in your size, which you cursed. You really wanted him to rip them. After that, you still had an hour left to explore the store before Ahsoka would be home. For a long time, you stood in front of a display of plugs and debated whether to buy one. Then you moved on to the wall of vibrators, which was overwhelmingly brightly colored. Every box yelled out the benefits--Xtreme Suction, Boyfriend Experience, 17 Vibrating Settings--and you almost didn't buy one. Almost. You took a big vibrating wand off the wall, which at least seemed beginner-friendly. So, after spending altogether too much, you half-walked, half-ran back to your room to try out your new toy while you thought of Anakin. It turned out that the vibrator was incredibly powerful and made you cum in one minute flat, which was lucky because Ahsoka's class let out early.

For the rest of the week, every time you thought of what he was going to do to you, you used the vibrator. Even on the day he was arriving, when the two of you texted about kinks, you pulled the vibe out even though Ahsoka was due to return any minute. You were halfway to your orgasm when you heard the key in the door, so you turned it off in a hurry, shoved it under your pillow, and pulled up your blanket. You just had to masturbate as soon as you heard about him enjoying thinking about you two doing kinky stuff. That's how crazy Anakin made you.

One short hour later, Anakin was with you. You were trying your best to be normal around him, but that was an impossible mission. When Ahsoka brought up Jake in front of Anakin, you died inside. It wasn't like that with Jake. Only for Anakin. Then, when she asked if you were dating, you had to deny it, hard, so that Anakin wouldn't think you were telling your roommate how in love with him you were.

But you did love him, and you were about to do your best to rock his world. (This failed, almost immediately. He was about to rock yours, hard.)

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"Okay. First of all, I won. You touched me first," he said. He was right, you had, but it was unfair. How were you supposed to resist when he asked you like that? He was always telling you what to do teasingly, but when he did it seriously, it set something off within you. You opened your mouth to snark back in defense, but he interrupted you.

"And, second of all, shut up and kiss me." You rose up on your toes, tangling your hands in his hair and giving him a long look before finally connecting your lips. His kisses were needy and bruising as he devoured you, wrapping his strong arms around your lower back and drawing you to him. Your bodies slammed into one another, connecting from thigh to chest, and you felt him grow harder against you. You definitely weren't imagining it last time, he was big. You mewled into his mouth, and felt him smile against you at your noisiness. Then he grabbed your bottom lip between his, swiping his tongue across it, and you made an even louder noise, which drew a groan from him. As you tilted your heads this way and that, trying to get even deeper, he slipped his tongue past your lips, exploring tentatively. He had a vague aftertaste of mint, and some distant part of your brain registered that he had probably prepared for this with a mint or gum or something. When you started teasing his lips with you tongue, he pulled away, and you feared for a moment that he was about to tell you that you had done something wrong. Instead, he just said, with his telltale smirk and half-lidden eyes full of desire,

"You're such a good kisser. Been practicing without me?" You shook your head no, and that was the truth. Was he worried about someone else? There was no one. There hadn't been anyone but him in your heart for a very long time.

"Good," he growled. You weren't sure what that meant, and it didn't seem like Anakin thought about it before saying it, based on the way his face fell for a millisecond before he recovered his cool. He dove back into kissing you with grace, like that didn't even happen. Somehow, you found yourself pulling him toward you so much that the back of your knees hit the bed, and you almost lost your balance. He caught you with those strong arms and turned you around so that he sat on the bed, with you standing over him. Just like last time, you yearned to be in his lap, so you straddled him. As soon as you sat on his dick, Anakin groaned, and you dragged yourself along the length trapped by his zipper. He rolled his hips in tandem, which only made you intensify your actions, rutting against him and practically bouncing on his lap. At some point, the friction finally rubbed your clit in exactly the right way, and you threw your head back while you rode him as a broken moan tumbled from your lips. The denim skirt you were wearing was intentionally short and tight, and, with your feverish movements, it rode up until it sat on your hips. You could feel the cool air hit your warm pussy and thighs, so knew he could definitely see the lace you were wearing underneath it. You just hoped it was something he liked.

"What are you wearing? Let me see, baby," he cooed. That pet name, baby, and the sultry way he said it, were enough for you to let the hope in your chest that he felt the same way about you flourish. He pushed up the hem just a bit more with his right hand, running his finger along the top of the underwear, back and forth. You were about to scream in frustration, and you tried to thrust into his hand, but he shook his head.

"Patience," he tutted, as if he had any himself. Anakin's thumb moved down the front, tracing you until he reached your clit. He cast a tentative look at you before he touched it, but you tapped him twice with your hand, and he gently pressed against it. Your moan sounded so loud in the small space that you were worried the neighbors would complain, but he kept going. The little bundle of nerves was so sensitive under his touch that you were shocked it could even feel this way, so intense just because someone else was there. Anakin moved his thumb in small circles, the tendons in his hands jumping as he applied more and more pressure. You kept letting out a string of curses and his name, not caring who could hear. This was too good not to enjoy fully. His other hand gripped your hip so roughly that you were certain it would leave bruises that you would masturbate over for weeks.

Just as you felt it all start to build, not quite there yet but definitely on the right track, he drew his hand away. He tugged on your skirt, which was like an extra-thick belt at this point.

"Why don't we get this off you, baby?" You nodded, and Anakin quickly popped the button and helped you stand up and kick it off. You could pick it up later. You felt a bit silly in your crop top and nothing else, so you took it off in what you hoped was a sexy way, lifting it over your head to expose the black lace bralette you had bought just for him. Anakin's gaze was locked onto your body, practically drooling. When your shirt was off too, he grabbed his cock through his pants and stroked it, to your joy. He found you sexy. You didn't know if he loved you, or if he wanted to date you, but, in this second, it was enough just for him to want you.

You climbed back up onto him and tugged at the simple burgundy tee he was wearing, as if to say I want to see you too. He obliged, shirking it quickly. As he did, you took a long look at his bare chest.

When you were kids, you would go to the pool, so you knew what he looked like shirtless. But he had started training so much more since then, and some of the softness was gone, replaced with nothing but muscle and sinew, taut under your touch. You ran a hand down his pecs, to his abs--he had actual abs-- going lower and lower until you reached the trail of hair under his belly button. Anakin's eyes were following your hand, then flitted up to your face. His skin pressed against yours when he tightened his arms, letting them fall to touch your ass. A tense second passed with you staring at one another before he continued to kiss you feverishly. One of his hands trailed up your body to grab your tits, pawing at them and occasionally rubbing gentle circles where he could feel your nipples hard under the fabric. The feeling was so intense that, as you groaned into his mouth, you kept moving your hips until he grabbed your hips to hold you still.

"If you keep going like that, baby, I'm going to cum," he whispered raggedly into your ear, still holding you tight. Hearing your best friend say those words, so dirty and sexy, almost drove you mad. You wanted to see him try to hold back as you rutted against him, then get overwhelmed by pleasure. Next time, you vowed.

"Can I go down on you?" You asked, not sure of the sexiest way to phrase the question, but it seemed to work for him. He smiled widely, nodded, and leaned back on his arms as you got down to your knees on the floor, sitting between his legs while he stayed on the bed.

Nervousness washed over you again. After this, there was no going back. You would have seen all of him, and touched it. He wasn't just your best friend anymore, he was more if you did this. So much more. And that was exactly what you wanted.

You fumbled with the button of his pants for a second before it finally opened, then you pulled the zipper down slowly. You'd never understood why people found that sound sexy, but, now, it was making you soaked. You were met with his briefs, which had a wet spot on them that turned the grey fabric dark. You grabbed the waistband and pulled them down, following the dark brown hairs until you saw the base of his cock. When you pulled it down, and his cock sprang out, you paused, sitting completely and utterly still. Seconds passed in silence, and Anakin started staring at you.

"You okay?" He asked the question so gently, so caringly with those eyes full of worry that you thought for a moment, just for a second, that you could sense a flicker of love. It was enough to keep you going for years. You nodded up at him, eyes wide, and he cupped your face tenderly. He could tell you were a little worried that you would be bad, but he was going to make it better.

Holy fuck. This was Anakin's cock. Of course, you'd seen photos before of penises. This was something completely different. He was big--almost huge, as far as you were concerned, and thick. The tan skin of his cock accentuated the darker head. The gently upward curve of his shaft was wrapped in veins, some bluish and some purplish, and you felt a pull to trace them with your tongue. At the very tip, a bead of precum was gathering, and you wanted desperately to see if it tasted how you imagined. You looked up into his eyes, and he was giving you a concerned look, like he was about to suggest you pause for your sake. Instead, you reached out one shaking hand to grip the base of his cock, which was so much warmer than you imagined. Anakin hissed at the contact, then muttered out a "good" as you started stroking the base gently. His praise sent a rush of joy and arousal through you, and you vowed to get more.

You lowered your lips on the tip of his cock, kissing it with your slightly open mouth as Anakin hissed. Your tongue flicked out to lick off the precum, which was salty, musky, and a bit bitter, but definitely better than you expected. You licked your lips before tracing the contours of the head of his cock, teasing the slit and the edge before trying to take some of it into your mouth. You opened your jaw as wide as you could, because, based on what you read, teeth were to be used sparingly. His cock was surprisingly warm and wet in your mouth, and when you glanced up at him from between his knees, his lips were parted and his face had gone slack as he groaned your name. You sank down further on his cock until the entire head was in your mouth. His skin was so smooth under your tongue as you swirled it around, so incredibly delicate. As you started to bob up and down, getting a bit deeper each time, the noises and words started pouring out of him.

"God, that's great--ah, right there baby, fuck, that's my good girl." The words were so dirty, so right. The praise tumbled out of his mouth so easily, and it only made you get more and more frantic on his cock, taking him in deeper and deeper. At one point, you went too deep, and he hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him. The spasm of your throat around his cock drew out another groan from Anakin, but he gently grabbed your hair and pulled you off.

"Are you alright?" It was your first time gagging around it, taking it deep, and all you could think was how you wanted him to make you do that. To make you gag on him over and over until you couldn't think straight.

"Yeah, Ani, I'm fine. I just--I. I want to do that again," you admitted. He leaned down to kiss you gently, then took your chin in his fingers.

"Can I fuck your throat, baby?" He hid it well, but you could tell he was a bit nervous, most likely worried about hurting you. Anakin was always like that with you, so gentle, so considerate, that it made you all the more certain. You nodded emphatically, because God yes you wanted that, and then he stood up, getting to his full height above you. You shifted to your knees, which were aching from the carpet at this point, then looked up and found yourself in line perfectly with his cock. He dug his fingers into your hair, grabbing hold of it at the root, then started drawing your head closer until he was engulfed in your mouth again. Once he reached a bit of resistance, he drew back and thrust, shallow and quick, then drew back again. Anakin went a bit deeper the next time, then started thrusting faster. The physical feeling itself was nothing compared to the heady rush from the look he was giving you. Anakin was always sunshine, but now he was dark and sinful, using your throat for his pleasure. Your eyes locked, which obviously affected him based on the way he took a ragged breath and tipped his head back.

Watching him get so much pleasure from you made your right hand go down to your pussy, giving it much-needed relief by slipping underneath your underwear and rubbing your clit directly. The stimulation only made you more relaxed, which then allowed him to thrust further into your throat. He was getting faster, so you hollowed your cheeks and put your left hand on his tense thigh, which was almost shaking, before wrapping it around the base of his cock and stroking. Anakin growled and sped up, losing himself in the pleasure of your mouth, about to cum.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna--ah, fuck, I'm cumming," he choked out as he buried himself deep inside you. Your hand sped up as you felt his cock start to spasm. It was thick and warm and incredibly bitter, but it tasted like Anakin, so you swallowed it as the cum slid down your throat in spurts. After he came, he pulled out of your mouth with a sigh, then slid his thumb over your swollen and spit-covered lips.

"That was amazing," he said, out of breath, "How are you feeling?" The hand on your mouth went to your cheek, holding it gently.

"Good," you breathed. "Horny." He chuckled, still panting and looking down at you with genuine adoration. Anakin sat down on the bed, then got on it as he pulled up his briefs to cover up his sensitive cock.

"Come up here. I'll take care of you," he said as he shifted backward onto the bed, leaving space for you to lay down next to him. As he moved, then adjusted your pillow so you could be comfortable, you realized you had made a mistake. You stood up to try and stop it, but it was too late. You hadn't moved the goddamn vibrator. He found it, of course, with a gentle "oh." He held it up for you to see what he had found, and the dread nestled in your stomach. He was so going to make fun of you for this.

"Someone's been practicing on their own, I see," he said with a raised eyebrow as he flicked the on button, sending the tip of the vibrator shaking in a frenzy. Anakin gave you a shit-eating grin. You felt your cheeks and the tips of your ears grow warm.

"Fuck, I meant to move that, I--" He interrupted you with intense eyes. His hair was wild around his face, waves messed by your hands earlier.

"Embarrassed?" Yes, obviously. You nodded, looking away and adjusting a strand of your hair that had fallen into your face from when he fucked it. He was obviously enjoying this more than a little bit, and you started to wonder how much he really enjoyed you being embarrassed in other situations too. If his teasing was all platonic. His grin grew wolfish.

"How many times have you used it?" That caught you off guard. Your teasing was something you had both enjoyed, but the way he turned it into a little game for his own pleasure made you want to be teased by him all the time. Your stunned silence had obviously riled him up, so he kept going.

"Huh? How many times, baby? How many times have you made yourself cum with this?" Oh, he really wanted to know. He brought the still-humming vibrator to the inside of your knee, then slowly started tracing it up your thigh. You jolted, but answered him.

"Got it four days ago. I--five times," you whispered as he brought it closer and closer to where you wanted it. Anakin chuckled, a sound so dark and almost condescending that you could hardly believe it came from your best friend. It flared in your pussy, sending blood to your clit until you could feel your heartbeat in it. The vibrator was so close, you could practically feel it already.

"Twice in one day?" Anakin gritted the question out with a hungry smirk, the dark echo of the one you knew so well. You loved it. You wanted him to devour you and destroy you. You nodded slowly, well aware of how close he was to finally touching you. He finally reached your clit, and gave you one-two-three seconds of pleasure before he switched the vibrator off.

"Get on the bed," he commanded, pulling you by the hips into his embrace on the bed. He shifted to the headboard, so that you were between his legs and laying back on his chest. Anakin was so warm, so comforting behind you as his arms wrapped around you and brought the vibrator back to your clit. When it hummed to life, you turned your face and buried it in his arm, muffling the moans and words you babbled out.

"Ah, FUCK. God yesyesyesyes more, please, Ani!" The vibe never failed you before, and it wasn't now. The stimulation, the aftertaste of cum in your mouth, and the smell of Anakin's sweat and shampoo all mingled together to bring you closer and closer, until you were about to finally--Anakin ripped the vibrator off of you, and your hips thrust up into the empty air as you mewled and cried out for him.

"Fuck, please let me cum! I'm so fucking horny Ani, please," you begged, not even caring about dignity anymore. You needed this, so so fucking badly.

"You want to cum? Fine. You get to cum, but you're gonna do it twice." He pressed the vibrator to you again and gently circled it on you. It was so much, the heat of the room, the strain in your legs, the way your mind was going fuzzy at the edges, filled with nothing but Anakin. You came like you never had before, jolting as your legs shook and making a series of strangled noises that included shouts of his name intermixed with breathy moans. You could hear him, vaguely, curse at the sight in front of him. The waves hit you over and over, extending longer than you thought you could, your pussy twitching repeatedly. But Anakin didn't take the vibrator off you. It almost hurt, but your sensitivity made it overwhelmingly good, like the breath was leaving your chest. Getting back to being able to cum took a minute, but you were feeling it build again, stronger this time. Your abs clenched, and Anakin started to read your tells. He could tell, just like you could, that you were about to cum.

"That's it, baby. Cum again for me, you can do it," he murmured in your ear as you let out a desperate wail and came violently. Your whole body was shaking, back arched, and your breathing was ragged like you had just run a marathon. Your pussy was desperately clenching on nothing as the feeling surged over you, so much stronger this time around. The knowledge that it was Anakin making you cum only made it more powerful. When you had come down from the peak of it, and were just riding out the last aftershocks, Anakin turned off the vibrator and rested his hand on your knee.

"That was perfect, baby. You were so good for me. So amazing," he whispered as he pulled you closer. If you were less floaty and light-headed, you would have thought more of his use of baby, like this was something more than practice. Now that he had touched you like this, you knew that there wasn't any going back, and that you were going to tell him eventually. Tell him how you felt. But not right now. Right now, all that mattered was his strong arms engulfing you, keeping you warm and safe after everything you had done.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed with him holding you like that before you realized that you should probably pee and change. But he was so comfortable, rubbing your knee with his thumb idly as he monitored you. His hands supported you as you tried to sit up, still tired and shaky from the effort of all of it.

"I should really go pee," you said, obviously unenthusiastic.

"You okay? Feel good about everything?" When you turned around to look at him, Anakin was so visibly concerned, it was too sweet. His pupils were blown wide, his features soft in the low light. Your heart tugged when you realized this was only making you love him more.

"Yeah, you?" And that was the truth. You did feel good about everything, almost too good. He was so perfect for you, kinky in just the right ways, and you were terrified you wouldn't find that again. When he heard you were alright, he grinned, back to his usual bright, happy self. There was also that. You were terrified you wouldn't find someone who loved you this much, even if he only loved you as a friend.

"Fuck yeah. Alright, go clean up," he said. His hands on your lower back gave you a gentle push to help you get going. With your PJs, you stepped into the bathroom you shared with the double bedroom next door, locking both doors, and tried to wipe up the wetness on your underwear. There was no use, they would go straight into the wash. Whatever. You tossed them into your hamper and got ready for bed.

When you left the bathroom, you were shocked to find Anakin naked in the middle of the room, halfway through changing. It felt almost normal, which was weird, given that you couldn't conceive of him having a penis a year ago. He noticed your strange look and pulled up his flannel pajama pants.

"What? It's not like you've never seen me naked before," he joked with a wink. You supposed that was true, but this seemed very... intimate, somehow. The first time was practice, but what was this?

"Oh, could you grab my phone charger? It's in the big pocket of my backpack," he called idly from the bed. His shirt was still off, and the flannel pants sat low on his hips, so you found your eyes roving over the wide expanse of his chest. On your way back to the bed from the bathroom, you stopped by the bag he had left on the floor. As you dug through it, you found underwear (ew, though really not ew because you had just had his cock down your throat ten minutes ago), his computer, and a couple shirts, but no tell-tale charger cord.

"I don't think it's in here," you said to him, but you stuck your hand deeper into the layers of his overstuffed backpack. This must be what performing a colonoscopy is like, you thought. Your fingers closed around something thin, wrapped up with what felt like a crumpled paper, and you started fishing it out. He was notorious for stuffing paper in his bag without thinking in high school, and you once found his report card somewhere in the depths of it during senior year. It was from four years ago. You chuckled to yourself at the memory as you finally got the knot loose, along with the crumpled paper trapped within it.

You unwrapped it carefully. The piece of notebook paper looked frequently used but recently discarded, and was covered in Anakin's distinctive scrawl. Your flitted over the first line, expecting to read something about resistors. Instead, you saw something else. Since we were kids, I've considered you my closest friend. You kept reading.

"Anakin, what the fuck is this?"

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#anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker/you #anakin/you #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #star wars prequels

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roosterforme · 7 months

Text

Always Ever Only You Part 34 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Without you at home, Bradley's big mouth is about to get him in trouble. As he counts down the hours until he can pick you up from the airport, you wrap up your trip to Maryland with a visit to your childhood home. However, you're not as smooth as you think you are. By the time you get back to San Diego, you are an absolute train wreck, and some secrets have been revealed.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

On Thursday morning, Bradley got to work a little bit early. He just needed to make a tiny detour to one of the database computers. He really wasn't sure if you realized that you told him Commander Patterson's first name last night, or if you let it slip by accident, but now that he knew it, he just wanted to check him out.

Every trip you took to Annapolis turned into some sort of disaster at one point or another. He couldn't imagine you were out there looking for trouble, but it sure did find you in the form of Derek or Josh. You were the most capable person Bradley knew, but he loved and respected you enough to know that sometimes you needed a break. Right now, he just wanted to bring you back home and take care of every tiny need or want that you or the baby might have. He'd honestly fucking delight in that.

As soon as he logged into the system, Bradley typed in your full name, complete with Bradshaw hyphenated at the end. A second later, your image appeared on the screen complete with lovely smile and gorgeous eyes. "That's my Baby Girl," he muttered, still captivated by this photo of you.

He forced his fingers back to the keyboard, but no results appeared when he looked for Derrick Patterson. He tried Paterson. Then he tried Derick. Then he tried Derek Patterson and saw the face of the asshole who made his wife cry over a steak dinner. Were you more emotional right now than perhaps you would usually be? Absolutely. But that was only because you were pregnant. As soon as you told him you had a positive pregnancy test, Bradley's number one concern in this world simply switched from his wife to his wife and his child.

This guy looked like a real tool. Forty-four years old. Ranked up to Commander two years ago. Worked in a simulation lab. Had the same degrees from the Naval Academy that you earned. "Yeah, well I can guarantee you're not as smart as her, you motherfucker."

He took another minute to memorize what he saw there before logging out. Maybe he'd ask Maverick about him. Cyclone and Warlock would be good resources, too. Bradley just hated that he wasn't able to make you feel safe and comfortable at the moment, but as soon as he picked you up tomorrow, he'd take care of everything.

When he started to head out to the tarmac, he literally ran into someone while he was adding steaks to the grocery list he saved in his phone. He didn't know how to cook a steak, but he'd get them just in case you were still in the mood for one. "Sorry," he muttered, not really looking up, too concerned with what else you might want.

"It's okay, Bradley."

Then he did look up into the dark eyes of Maria Wilson. "Hey," he said with a smile at your good friend. "I've been meaning to ask you... how's rooming with Bob going for you?"

"Great," she replied with a little shrug and a completely neutral expression. "He's clean and courteous, and I think the arrangement is going to work out really well."

If he didn't know better, Bradley would have believed nothing was going on. She was that good. But he did know better. He wasn't going to do Bob dirty, so he just nodded and said, "I hope it does work out. I've always felt a little bad about stealing my wife away from you."

She just laughed and said, "Like we didn't all see that coming a mile away."

He wandered off with a grin on his face after he said goodbye. He was planning on making a few stops on the way home before Jake showed up to workout together later. Bradley just had to get through one more night and then you'd be back.

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

You were an idiot for eating two steaks and seventeen pounds of sides and then passing out for the night. Sure, at the time, it seemed like the best idea you'd ever had. Derek's porterhouse hit the fucking spot like nothing else. The potatoes were creamy and delectable. The brussels sprouts? A thing of beauty.

But Thursday morning, you were back to your normal routine of throwing up as soon as you got out of bed. "I get it, okay?" you gasped as you sprawled out on the bathroom floor. "I understand," you added, letting your hand settle on your belly. "You miss your Dad. Well guess what. I miss him, too. Now will you stop acting out if I promise to take you home tomorrow?"

A soft gurgle as your stomach started to settle was the response you got, and that was actually better than you could have hoped for. When you heard tapping on your hotel room door, you knew it was Cat, and you wanted to cry. You were wearing Bradley's UVA shirt and a pair of your ratty underwear and nothing else, and she'd just keep knocking until you answered.

"I'm coming," you moaned, actually crawling most of the way there. You pulled yourself up and then cracked the door open a few inches, and you were met with Cat's appraising eyes. "Hi."

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to get breakfast with me," she said cautiously.

"No, I'm good, but thanks for asking." You tried to close the door, but her foot was immediately preventing that.

"Are you sick?" she asked. "I can bring something back for you."

"No, I'm okay," you told her. Your stomach lurched, and your eyes went wide. You had about ten seconds to get rid of her and make it to the toilet. You didn't know what to do as saliva pooled at the back of your tongue. You started to gag as your eyes filled with tears.

"Hey," she said softly. "If something's wrong, you can tell me."

But you shook your head and let go of the door, making a mad dash back into the bathroom. You barely made it to your knees in front of the toilet before you barfed again. "Why?" you moaned, wiping your mouth with toilet paper before rolling onto the bath mat which had become your best friend.

"Oh my god," Cat muttered as she walked right into your hotel room bathroom. She flushed the toilet and then turned to the sink and started to fill one of the disposable cups with water. "You're pregnant," she stated plainly. "You could have told me, you know. Congratulations, by the way."

As she knelt on the floor next to you, she helped you sit up. You accepted the cup from her and said, "It's just food poisoning." She blinked at you a few times, giving you no wiggle room to lie to her. "Fine," you admitted with a little smile, "I'm pregnant."

She ran the backs of her fingers along your forehead while you sipped the water. "How far along are you?"

"About nine or ten weeks," you whispered as you closed your eyes for a few beats. "I'm just really tired and really fucking sick. I felt good last night, but now I feel terrible again."

Cat took the empty cup from your hand and wrapped you up in a soft hug. "Thank you for holding it together for the presentation. Now you need to get back into bed."

You shook your head and said, "I need to get up and moving so I can go see my parents later."

"No," she said firmly, guiding you back to the bed. "You need to rest right now. You'll feel better if you do."

Part of you wanted to make sure your suitcase was closed so she didn't see your vibrators, but mostly you didn't even care. She had a certain way about her that was calming you down, and as soon as you were in the bed, she tucked you in. You almost believed her when she told you that resting would help you feel better.

"Where's your room key?" she asked once you were curled up on your side.

You let one hand sneak out from under the covers and pointed. "Next to the TV."

She patted your shoulder and promised she would be back soon, and then she was gone. You dozed on and off while your stomach gurgled, and you missed a few texts from Bradley. When Cat eventually opened your door and let herself in, you were actually feeling hungry. And that's when you noticed two bags and a cup carrier in her hands.

Quietly, she set everything down on your nightstand including some orange juice that almost brought a tear to your eye. Somehow she knew that was what you needed when you didn't even know yourself. You sat up as she poked a hole in the lid and handed it to you, and you drank half of it down in one sip.

"You need to eat something," she whispered, taking the cup away again. "I got you a bagel with cream cheese, an egg sandwich, a few different kinds of donuts and a muffin."

You reached for the bagel, and she unwrapped it for you. "I'll pay you back," you rasped, but she shook her head.

"Don't worry about it. Just make the baby happy, and we're square," she replied as she sank down into the chair beside the bed.

But you were definitely going to worry about it. Money was very tight for Cat and Jeremiah, so you would have to figure out a way to make it even. She probably spent about forty bucks on all of this for you, and somehow she knew that a sesame seed bagel with cream cheese would go down as happily as the steaks did. You devoured the whole thing and then took some bites out of the egg and cheese sandwich before finishing the orange juice.

Then you drank some of the hot tea as well and nibbled on a muffin, and you felt so much better. Cat asked you a few questions, but she didn't pry. "Bradley must be over the moon," she said softly with a sad smile.

"Oh yeah," you told her, knowing that her ex-husband did not have a relationship with Jeremiah. "He dubbed the baby the chicken nugget." When she laughed, you added, "He's very excited to be a dad."

"He'll be a good one," she confirmed with a nod. "Now why don't you rest for a few more hours, and then I can drop you off at your parents' house so you don't have to drive."

"You don't have to do that."

"I'll drop you off and then go to the outlet mall. There are some things I want to get for Jer, and then I can pick you up again." She probably knew it wasn't a good idea to let you drive like this, and you were honestly kind of thankful that she offered.

"Alright." You fell asleep again as soon as she was gone.

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

When Bradley left work, it was blazing hot out, and he had his aviators on while he walked to the parking garage. It was already late as hell in Maryland, and he was a little afraid you had already left your parents and gone back to the hotel for the night. But your phone only rang briefly before you answered his FaceTime call.

"Bradley," you sighed, looking better than he'd seen you in weeks. "Here, say hi to everyone."

You turned your phone to reveal both of your parents along with Cat, sitting around the dining room table in the house where he was finally getting used to spending his holidays. They all greeted him warmly before your mom took the phone and asked him at least a dozen questions.

"Are you eating enough without her at home? How's work? How's Tramp? When can we come visit again, because she's not giving us a clear answer?"

She said nothing about the baby, so Bradley assumed you were holding yourself together well enough that it hadn't been mentioned. "I've been subsiding on cereal. Work is great. Tramp is great. I've been thinking about starting a project to expand the upstairs into another bedroom or two, so hopefully after that's finished, you and dad can stay as long as you want."

Bradley knew they would feel like a handful for him if they stayed at the house again, but that was only because he liked being alone with you. He really wanted to take a minute to talk to you privately, but your dad took the phone next so he could show off his latest painting project. When he finally got handed back to you, apparently it was time for you and Cat to head out.

"I'll let you know when the flight leaves tomorrow," you told him. "Love you, Roo."

And that was it. With a deep sigh, he started up the red Bronco and headed to the store on his way home. He hated shopping in his uniform; he always got a bunch of looks from people, mostly women. He tried to make it quick, but it took him a little time to gather up steaks, potatoes, garlic, your favorite coffee, and all of the yellow flowers in the floral section.

He barely had all of the food put away at home when Jake knocked twice on the front door before letting himself in the house. "It's like he fucking lives here," Bradley muttered to Tramp who had been waiting for his scoop of dinner before he ran to see Jeremiah.

"Hey, man," Jake called out. He had Cat's son tucked under one arm and some weird contraption under the other, and he was wearing gym clothes. "Did you just get home?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied, unable to keep himself from smiling when Jeremiah reached out for him. He took the little boy in his arms and told him, "I had to get some stuff for my wife. You remember her. She's your favorite babysitter. She read you some books while you fell asleep, because her voice is the sweetest thing in the world."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Angel made you soft, old man."

Bradley pointed to Jeremiah. "And this little thing made you soft, so you don't have a leg to stand on."

He just kind of shrugged in response and took the child back as he said, "Go get changed. I'll meet you in the garage."

As Jake disappeared through the sliding glass door, Bradley headed to the bedroom. He stripped out of his uniform and put on some shorts and a Top Gun shirt that was starting to fit a little snug across his biceps and chest again. This was a good sign, because he wanted to bulk up as much as possible. He'd be ready to haul the baby and all of the gear around so you didn't have to.

His thoughts were on you and the baby. You. Baby. You. Baby. He couldn't wait until both of you were home tomorrow. When he walked out to the garage, he found Jake doing a few pushups while Jeremiah played with a stuffed tiger while he sat in some sort of portable crib.

"What is that thing?" Bradley asked as he reached for his lifting gloves. "A mini crib?"

Jake jumped to his feet as he said, "It's called a pack 'n play, but yeah, it's kind of a mini crib that folds up."

"Huh," he replied, eyeing it up so he could search online for that kind of thing later. "Looks handy. We're definitely going to need one of those."

Jake was frozen in place, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. "Is Angel pregnant? I knew her ass looked bigger." A grin curled along his lips, and that was when Bradley realized he had fucked up.

"Oh, shit," he muttered as his heart rate sped up and he started to sweat. You were going to be so upset. Your own parents didn't even know yet, but now Jake did, and it was all his fault.

"She's pregnant!" Jake practically shouted. "Congratulations, Rooster," he said, pulling Bradley into a hug and slapping him on the back. "You finally figured out which hole to put it in, huh?" he asked with an absolutely obnoxious grin.

Bradley glared at him. "Seriously. Nobody else knows about this yet. She might murder me if she finds out you know."

"I won't say shit about it," Jake promised, cuffing him on the shoulder before releasing him. "Damn, she must be excited. I know you both wanted this."

"Yeah," Bradley rasped, just knowing his face must be flushed pink. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm so fucking happy and scared and nervous, I can barely make it through a day without her here, you know?"

Jeremiah roared and held up the tiger for Bradley. He took it and made it roar back before pretending it was kissing Jeremiah all over his face. His laugh was infectious, and it left Bradley smiling.

"Damn," Jake drawled. "I think you're ready for the parenting thing."

"I know I am," he replied, fixing him with a serious look. "I'm ready."

Jake sighed and nodded. "But you still have a lot to learn. Do you know about outlet covers?"

Bradley's eyes went wide. "No. What are those?"

"How about white noise to help a baby sleep? Do you know what a convertible car seat is?"

"No," Bradley whispered, "No, I don't."

Jake settled back onto the bench and reached for the barbell. "Spot for me, and I'll tell you everything I've learned."

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

It was finally Friday morning, and Cat was knocking on your door with another round of food and orange juice before you were even out of bed. When you let her in, she set everything up on the nightstand while you went to use the bathroom, and you were pleasantly surprised that you didn't need to throw up while you were in there.

"Eat as much as you can," she told you. "I asked them to give you a late checkout, so you can stay here until noon, and then we'll head to the airport."

"You're a saint," you told her with a mouth full of bagel. "I owe you so much money for this, you have to let me pay you back."

She just shook her head. "I'll let you babysit Jer so Jake and I can go out one night. Assuming I'm still in a relationship after we get bad to San Diego later tonight."

"You will be," you told her as you sipped the orange juice. "Jake isn't stupid." You paused before you set the juice down in favor of a donut. "Well... he's kind of stupid, but not when it comes to this."

Cat reached into the bag for another donut. "Seriously, if he and Bernie can't figure their shit out, I'll pull the plug and never look at another man again."

"Sometimes they really aren't worth the aggravation," you remarked, thinking back to every guy you dated before Bradley. "But sometimes they surprise you."

She didn't say anything else as she finished her donut. Then she let you take a nap, and when you got up and got dressed, you felt pretty amazing. Your stomach was gurgling quietly, and you looked okay enough to skip the makeup today.

You dragged your suitcase out into the hallway and texted Bradley, letting him know you were going to be heading to the airport soon, and he responded almost immediately.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: i'll meet you in baggage claim sweetheart. i can't wait to have you and the nugget back home with me

You practically moaned, and also started tearing up as Cat met you in the hallway. "When willI I be normal again?" you whispered. "All I want to do is have rough, frequent sex with my husband, but every time I think about how sweet he is, I start crying."

She laughed and said, "You won't feel normal until about six months postpartum. Just have fun running that man ragged."

You nodded and wiped at your tears. "Where's our equipment bin?"

"Already in the car."

"You weren't supposed to move it alone! It's so heavy."

"And you shouldn't be carrying anything like that at all," she scolded, pushing you gently toward the elevators. "I took care of it. I'll take care of it all day, and I'll get your suitcase when we get to the airport, too."

You sobbed the whole way down in the elevator and most of the ride to the airport. When you said thank you, Cat told you to be quiet which made you smile and also cry more. You'd get Bradley to agree to watch Jeremiah for a whole weekend. It would give the two of you some practice, and it would give Cat and Jake time alone. There was no way he was going to mess anything up.

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

Bradley parked the red Bronco at the airport with a vase of flowers in the cup holder and an ultrasound picture tucked into the visor. Your flight had been delayed a few times, and he figured you were probably starving now. He picked up the container of peanut butter crackers he prepared and started to head inside, still a little too early but with nothing better to do.

He found an empty bench, and it wasn't long before Jake came strolling in with Jeremiah in his arms. Bradley stood up, jostling the snack container as he muttered, "You're not going to say anything to her, right?"

"Relax," Jake replied as Jeremiah reached for the crackers. "I won't say a word about her being pregnant. You can count on me."

That actually made him feel a lot more nervous as he opened up the container, broke a cracker in half and handed it to Jeremiah. "Okay. Just pretend you don't know a thing about it."

He watched Jeremiah get crumbs all over Jake's shirt as Jake checked his phone. "Sure. Hey, they landed. Cat said they're walking off the plane now."

Bradley checked his phone, but there was absolutely nothing from you, which was really strange. "Huh." He stood there awkwardly as he'd been left out of the loop, handing the other half of the cracker to Jeremiah when he reached for it.

He watched Jake typing one handed, and then he said, "Apparently there was a ton of turbulence. Angel got pretty sick." When he met Bradley's eyes, he kind of shrugged. "Sounds like she's in bad shape."

Bradley ran his fingers through his hair until it was sticking up at an odd angle. "What's that supposed to mean? How is she in bad shape?" He looked over toward the partition that blocked off the area he wouldn't be able to get past without a boarding pass while he started to panic. Was he going to have to take you to the hospital or something? The cereal and potato chips he had for dinner started to sour in his stomach as he started walking in that direction.

Then he saw you, and he started running. Cat had her arm around you, and she was carrying your tote bag along with her backpack while you sipped a can of ginger ale through a straw. Bradley could see fresh tears in your eyes as they met his. "Oh, Sweetheart."

"Roo," you croaked, and he closed the rest of the distance to you and carefully took you in his arms. "I was horrible."

Cat took the ginger ale from your hand, and you collapsed against him, a sobbing, shaking mess. "It's okay," he promised you. "You're home now, and I will take care of everything."

You nodded against his chest, and he let you cry. "I threw up so much. I was fine, but then it was really rough, and the baby hates me anyway." You cried harder, and then Jake was there with Jeremiah. He took the container of crackers so Bradley could rub your back with both hands. You hiccupped against him and mumbled, "You can say what you want. Cat knows. She guessed it. Then she took care of me."

Bradley wasn't surprised in the least that someone who had been pregnant before was able to tell that you were now. "Okay," he whispered, kissing the top of your head. He held you close and gave both Cat and Jake a stern look. "Do you want to go ahead and tell Jake?" he asked carefully.

"Yeah," you groaned, leaning toward Jake slightly. "I'm pregnant."

If Jake didn't get Bradley out of this debacle safely, he was going to ban him from the home gym. But he should have known that above anything else in this scenario, Jake was going to have your back.

"Aww, Angel," he crooned as Jeremiah climbed into Cat's arms. "I'm so happy for you, mama." Then he kissed your cheek and winked at Bradley. "You'll be a natural, and ol' Rooster here's gonna be a class act. Now why don't you let him take you home? I can get the bin of your work stuff."

"You sure?" Bradley asked, giving Jake a discreet fist bump as you buried your face against his chest again. You were half burrowed inside his tropical print shirt at this point, and his undershirt was damp; he just wanted to get you home.

"We'll take care of it," Cat promised. "She's dehydrated. Make sure she drinks water or gatorade. And she needs to try to eat something." Jake handed the crackers back to Bradley. "Yeah, those might work, but she really needs to keep drinking."

"Got it," Bradley replied, kissing your forehead. "Thank you, Cat."

"It was my pleasure," she said with a smile as she cuddled Jeremiah.

"Let's go, Baby Girl," Bradley whispered, leading you to get your suitcase as you sipped the ginger ale and nibbled on a cracker. He kept his hand at the small of your back as you sucked in deep breath after deep breath. "I'll get you home and into bed as quickly as possible."

You sniffed and looked up at him. "I just want you with me. That's all I wanted all week."

Your lips quivered, and Bradley leaned in to kiss you as softly as he could. "That's all I wanted, too. I'm not going to leave your side." He kept you right there with him as he scooped up your luggage, and then he had his arm around you until he got you to the Bronco. With a kiss to your perfect cheek, he opened the door, helped you in, and buckled your seatbelt.

"Thanks, Roo," you sighed, eyes closed as you leaned back against the headrest, already looking more serene now that you and he were together.

"I would do anything for you." He stroked your belly with his fingertips. "Both of you."

Five minutes into the drive home, you were sound asleep, your fingers laced with his.

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

I can already feel how much calmer she is just knowing she doesn't have as much to worry about with Bradley by her side. And he's going to be so much less stressed with her at home. It's looking like next chapter could be the last one in this series!!!! I'm hoping to do some one-shots for them and then pick up with another series? Please let me know what you'd like to see during and after her pregnancy. And thank you for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 35

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cillianhead · 10 months

Text

Red Eyes || Cillian Murphy x Reader

summary: You and Cillian take a plane trip and a certain Jackson Rippner steals his spot.

PART TWO to A New Pair Of Glasses

put my vibrator on and smoked a j and then wrote away on this one so i'm so very sorry if it is bad or strange or something.

Enjoy my lovely readers <3

warnings: SMUT!!, unprotected p in v, DUBCON AND NONCON THEMES!!!, Daddy kink, vulgar language, swearing, choking, car/airplane sex / public sex, tight spaces, handjobs, oral sex (f and m receiving + reader sucks on his balls?!), slapping, spitting, claustrophobia, roleplay (Cillian is roleplaying as Jackson Rippner), some mentions of subspace/being in subspace sort of, some more dacryphilia, degradation, overstimulation, talks of FAKE! Explosives and talks of FAKE! plane crashes, biting, fake cheating scenarios, vibrators, and general adult content!!!

LONG FIC!!

18+ MINORS DNI

Standing in the crowded airport, you leaned against Cillian for support as you waited in line to check in your bags for your flight. You were going on a trip to New York, and the flight would be almost eight hours.

"How are you feeling, love?" Cillian whispered, subtly kissing your neck. "You nervous about our flight?" "I feel a little nervous... yeah..." You nodded, smiling softly up at him. "But we'll be fine... just... you know how I get..."

"It's alright, I'll be right there with you... the whole time," He hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder. The line was long and the waiting was tedious but at least you had the comfort of your boyfriend beside you.

After checking in and waiting for your flight, which wasn't for another hour and a half, Cillian and you decided to stroll along the airport stores, hand in hand.

"What's happening with that interview you have tomorrow?" You asked, leaning on him a bit.

"Oh... erm... I've forgotten his name..." Cillian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's literally something I had written down 'cause I t'aught it was funny..." Cillian groaned. "Oh... it was some bloke literally called Neil Lewis... some American guy..."

"No way," You laughed loudly, and Cillian looked at you, grinning fondly. "That's awesome, what's the interview even for?"

"I betcha a million bucks it's gonna be like sumn' about like..." He said these words while painting the air with his hands to make imaginary captions. "Neil Lewis.... and how he would react to different characters of mine..." He snickered and you laughed.

"That's a fun idea, though! Neil Lewis has always been a sweet spot of mine..." You sighed dreamily. You remembered when you and Cillian had first started talking and were only really doing all that sugar daddy stuff; you watched 'Watching The Detectives' for the first time. Of course, you hadn't seen all the Batman films at that point. You saw Inception when you were high and in some guy's Mom's garage and weren't comprehensive of what was happening except for when that one really sexy guy, Robert Fischer, showed up. That's when the movie had your attention. The guy was kissing your neck, and suddenly Robert showed up, and you didn't give a single shit about how hot the guy kissing you was; you'd look at the TV and moan louder than you did before. Neil Lewis had really awakened something else inside of you, though.

Something a little more tender.

He was just so cute, and as Violet said, 'You're like the sweetest guy I've ever met' (or something along those lines). You were sitting in a cute new little nightgown Cillian had bought you (oh, and a new vibrator with his initials carved in the middle). It was Valentine's Day, and unfortunately, he was in America shooting a film, and he wouldn't be back until the 17th. You were bratty and whiny, but you were grateful, and he knew that; you just liked to get sassy. You put on the romcom, an obvious choice as to why you picked it.

'Watching The Detectives' Starring Lucy Liu and Cillian Murphy.

You were already riled up when you saw him in the opening shot, but as time went on, you grew increasingly jealous of Violet and more in love with Neil Lewis, thus falling in love with Cillian Murphy. You remember calling Cillian up, despite the time difference, and rambling on about how cute he was in the movie.

Anyway... as you walk through the airport together and look at each other with your blazing love. Cillian lovingly kissed you on your forehead as you walked back to your gate.

"So about this flight..." Cillian cleared his throat after you walked along quietly.

"Yeah?" You hummed, tearing your eyes away from the cute dress you saw in one of those window stores and looked to Cillian with a grin.

"I won't be... erm... boarding on with you," Cillian cleared his throat. "I'm sitting in a different part of... de.... er... plane."

"What?!" You exclaimed, eyes widening and grabbing onto his arm tightly as you two swayed along. "What do you mean, Cill?"

"This flight is quite packed... and so I couldn't manage to fit us together so... yer gonna be in first class while I'm in coach..."

"What? Cillian? No... y-you take first class... you need it more than me..." You were pouting at him with the most pitiful eyes.

"No, baby... it's okay," Cillian hushed. "I'm sure you're gonna meet some guy in first class... who you can pretend is me..."

"I would never do that," You whispered, shaking your head insistently as you fiddled with the red ruby around your neck, thinking about Jonathan Crane. "Why would you say that?"

"It's okay, baby... you'll be able to sleep..." Cillian and you walked into a quiet little cafe. "They'll wake you right before we land... I doubt you'll be sittin' next to anyone since you're in first class..."

"Cillian... why didn't you tell me this sooner?" You whined, sitting down right beside him and clinging onto him while you still can.

"'Cause I know you'd never come if you realized we won't be sittin' together..."

"That's a fair point..." You mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder.

After sitting for a while and sipping the teas you had gotten from the airport coffee shop, it was time to board the plane. You wrapped your arms around Cillian and kissed him passionately.

"I'm gonna miss you so much... Cill..." You whispered against his lips breathily.

"I know, baby," He hummed, stroking your hair. "You're gonna do so good for me... you can handle it... I love you so much..."

"I love you..."

You couldn't dare look back as you walked off with just the weight of your onboard bag. You found your seat... and fuck, it was nice, you had plenty of legroom, and you could even push your headrest back so you could lie down. You watched people start to board the rest of the plane, waiting to see Cillian walk past, but he never did. You sighed and rested back in your seat, buckling up for the takeoff that always made you anxious.

"...F7... F8... Oh, here we go..." You heard an American accent from behind you and turned to look Cillian in the eyes. He had styled his hair differently and was wearing a completely different outfit from what he was wearing before. Cillian smirked as he coldly approached, and you realized what he was doing. He was being Jackson. Honestly, you had completely forgotten about that conversation you two had and didn't expect Cillian to follow through with it. "Oh, hello, seems we're sitting together?" He gave you a strange smile as he sat beside you and smirked. "The name's Jackson..." He reached out his hand for you to shake.

"Oh... it's... it's Y/N..." You smiled, playing along. It was unnerving the way he moved and spoke. It was truly like it was just another person who happened to look exactly like Cillian. Jackson shook your hand with a nod before receding back into his chair beside you.

The flight took off, and you clutched onto your seat for dear life, trying to ignore the feeling of having Jackson's eyes on you the whole time.

"You're a very pretty girl..." He hummed once you were in the air and could unbuckle yourself, looking at you with a tilted head and lustful eyes. "You got a boyfriend?" He asked as if he were interested.

"Y-Yes..." You nodded, feeling flustered, playing along with a hidden grin.

"Aw... that's a shame," He cooed mockingly. "If only he had been here... to protect you..."

"Wh-What?" You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, laughing nervously. He just shook his head, scratching at his stubbly chin.

"Oh, don't worry," He reassured, mocking your trembling lip with a pout of his own. "I'm gonna take good care of you... sweetheart..."

"How... how...?" You stammered.

"You stupid slut," He spat, rolling his eyes at how pathetic you were. "You know how I'm gonna take care of ya..." Jackson's mouth got real close to your ear as he spoke the words, "I'm gonna fill that perfect little pussy with my seed..." He hissed.

"No... you can't... please..." You whimpered. About five or six people were sitting in the first-class cabin, yet luckily, none were sitting in front of you or behind you. "My boyfriend's in the... other cabin..."

"Oh, I know all about your little boyfriend... in fact... in the left pocket of his jacket... you see... I've been taking some sewing classes... and I was in your room one night while you were there, and he wasn't..." He laughed dryly, licking his teeth as he sucked in more air to speak. Your eyes were wide with horror and dismay... yet your legs squeezed together with arousal. "Anyway... as I was saying, in the pocket in his jacket is a tiny... yet very powerful explosive..."

"Wh-What...?" You panicked, speaking a bit too loudly. Jackson slapped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"If you don't do everything I say, I've got the remote here in my pocket and this whole fuckin' plane will go down over the Atlantic," He whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. "Do you hear me, bitch? I'm an impatient man. You're going to do every fuckin' thing I tell you to do or say bye-bye to your boyfriend and the death of everyone on this fuckin' plane..."

You nodded your head desperately, tears slipping down your cheeks. He pulled his hand off of your mouth and wiped your spit off his hand with your shirt. "I understand..."

"Good," He said gruffly, checking his watch. "They won't be bringing out any of the meals for another hour, so I say we have a little... fun while we wait for our meals... and then, of course... there'll be dessert after our dinner..." Jackson smirked.

"We'll get caught... we'll get in trouble," You protested, tucking your knees up into your chest.

"Oh babydoll, don't you know what I do for a living?" He snarked, flashing his sharp teeth at you in that cold, threatening smile. "I know how to do many things... and not get caught..." He whispered into your ear, biting at your neck. "Now open your legs for me. I'm gonna put this cute little vibrator in your pussy, do you understand?" "Al-Alright..." You slowly opened your legs. Your shorts were loose and thin, so you felt him slip his fingers up your thighs and in through the sides of your underwear.

"Fuck, you're soaking for me, princess..." He panted in your ear as he easily pressed two fingers into your cunt. "Doesn't that boyfriend of yours treat you well enough?" He teased. "I wasn't expecting you to be this turned on... I bet he doesn't make you cum enough, is that it?" His fingers began massaging your already sensitive G-spot.

"O-Oh... god..." Your head fell low as he continued panting in your ear, clearly getting affected by how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you. His cock strained against his tight sweatpants. "Jackson..."

"Wow, you gave in to that easily," He laughed, and you felt ashamed at how good you were feeling and how hard you were trying not to make much noise. It was good. The lights were quite dim since it was an overnight flight... everyone else was asleep or had their earbuds in. "You've gotta stay quiet, don't make me gag you," He demanded quietly as you saw the small pink vibrator that perfectly sucked on your throbbing clit. He slipped it into your underwear and turned it on... it was dead silent, but you could feel the intense vibrations. "Look at you, squirmin' for me, and that's only the first setting." His American accent was sickening and impossibly sexy.

"Jackson... I can't... it's too much," You dug your fingernails into the leather seats, clenching your teeth together. Your pussy quivered as he slipped his left hand into your underwear and covered you in a blanket provided to first-class flyers. Anyone walking by wouldn't even notice where his hand placement was. "I'm too... sensitive... it's too much, Daddy..." You whined, pressing your face into his shoulder and biting down on the material of his coat to quieten your stifled moans.

"Wow, look at that, I've got you calling me daddy..." He snorted, leaning back in his chair as he finger-fucked you and turned up the setting on your vibrator that sent crippling waves of pleasure through you. "Bet your real daddy wouldn't be too happy to hear that sweetheart..."

"You're not... you're not my daddy... it was a mistake..." You mewled quietly.

"I am right now, sweetheart," He took a whiff of your hair and bit back a groan. He was so turned on right now, and he wanted to drag you into the bathrooms and fuck you right now, but he wanted to prolong the pleasure for as long as possible. "I'm your daddy, say it... I'm gonna fuck you so much better than your daddy... gonna show you how a real man likes to fuck."

You caved in on yourself, squirming further into a ball as your entire body tensed. Your pussy clenched onto his fingers. Every time he flicked them out of you, a quiet yet distinct squelch of your arousal would be heard. Your orgasm lit you on fire, and he didn't slow down. In fact, his fingers moved even more precisely against your G-spot, causing you to croak and bury your face in your hands. You saw stars as you gushed around his fingers, and Jackson showed no signs of stopping as you came down from your high.

"Jackson... stop... stop it..." You cried, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts!"

"Oh, shut up, you spoiled brat," He grumbled, continuing to fuck you brutally with his talented fingers. "I saw what you did with that little doctor last week," He chuckled. "Your blinds are never closed... anyone passing by could see you whoring yourself out to other men..."

"Jackson, please... I just... I just need a break..." You whispered, flinching every time he massaged your spongy walls. He slowed down his fingers just a bit, it was enough to give you some relief.

"Does your daddy know about what you did with that doctor?" Jackson chuckled. "Imagine when he finds out about that... and finds out about... what you did with me on the plane..." He was getting off on your tears of guilt. "What a shame..." He whispered. "Especially since this means he'll have to cancel the reservation at that restaurant where... I'm pretty sure I saw him out shopping... the same day you fucked your doctor... could he have possibly bought a ring?" Jackson laughed mischievously. It would sound like someone told a funny joke to anyone else but to you... it was bloodcurdling at the realization of what he was implying.

"N-No..." You whispered, clutching at his wrist to slow him down.

"Would you have married him, or are you too much of a whore to settle down?" You could tell there was a deeper meaning in that question. Obviously, he was still playing along with the character. But you realized he wanted to know if you were ready for him to propose.

"Of... of course, I would have... I want to spend my whole life with him..." You whispered. "I... I... he doesn't have to know about what happened between my doctor and I..."

"I'll keep my mouth shut," He smiled with a rosy blush on his cheeks... burning through his cold demeanor. He grabbed a hold of you and kissed you sloppily, tongues and spit clashing together. He made out with you as he picked up the speed, and he was probably playing a dangerous game here by reaching up and groping at your tits. But the plane was dead silent, and he was getting desperate.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck..." You whimpered as he ran soft circles over your shirt, perfectly teasing your hard nipples. "I'm... cumming...." You whispered, arching your back into his hands, and you heard the familiar sound of him clicking the button to turn the vibrator up. You quietly thrashed around as he milked you for all you had.

"That's it... make even more of a mess all over my fingers..." He cooed, watching you throw your head back with your vision going black. "Such a fucking slut..." He grunted as he pulled his sticky fingers out from your underwear and popped them in his mouth. You watched, still mewling and squirming around with pleasure as you came. He closed his eyes and groaned with satisfaction as he licked his fingers clean. "Open your mouth,"

Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, and he grabbed your jaw roughly and spat onto your tongue. You moaned at the taste.

"Swallow it, bitch," He barked quietly, turning off the vibrator and slipping it back into his pocket. You had no idea how he managed to get that thing through checkage, but right now, you were too fucked out to care. "That's it..." He sighed happily as you gulped his spit down.

"Jackson..." You whispered, chest rising rapidly. "Need a break..." Jackson scoffed. "You're not gettin' one, princess," He chuckled darkly in your ear. "Right now, you're gettin' up and going into that bathroom there..." He points to the first-class bathroom. "And in five minutes, I will follow in after you... and you're going to take my cock... like a good girl..."

You opened your mouth to protest but he looked away with a firm nod of his head. "Go on, Y/N, or I'll fuck you right here."

You hurriedly stood up on shaky legs, smoothing out your shorts, and tried your best to act casual as you made your way to the tiny stall at the end of the aisle. Jackson's eyes burnt holes in the back of your head. You glanced back at him momentarily to see him smirking at you devilishly.

The bathroom was small and tight, but it was enough to fit you in it {almost} comfortably. The following five minutes were long and torturous as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your once neatly combed hair was now messed up like you had just gotten out of bed. Anxiously and insensibly, you looked over yourself in the mirror, making sure you looked good and fuckable for your boyfriend. Two soft raps were heard in your stall.

"It's me," Jackson mumbled. "Let me in."

You quickly unlocked the door, and just as quickly as it opened, it was closed and locked. Jackson didn't say a word; he just grabbed you by the throat and pushed you up against the wall. Fuck, it was cramped in here with the two of you. He immediately latched himself onto your neck and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stop you from crying as his hands worked to undoing your top and bra.

"Fucking hell, of course you've got perfect tits," Jackson groaned, lowering his mouth even more to pop your nipples into his mouth. Jackson's mean glare relaxed into shut eyes and furrowed brows of concentration. He moaned into your tits as he now slid down your shorts til you were just in your shorts and your blouse was wide open. "Whore..." He growled demeaningly as he was now face to face with your throbbing cunt. "Look how wet your panties are..." He whispered, tracing his fingers along your clothed slit. "This all for me?" He smirked as he pushed your panties to the side and kissed your clit.

"Oh... oh... god... J-Jackson..." You whined breathily, pushing your hands into his hair as he sucked on your clit like it was a cherry lollipop. His lips sucked harshly on your bud as his tongue slipped down and lapped your arousal up. His mouth was sinfully talented, and with the impending pleasure, you squeezed his head with your quivering thighs. "Fuck... you eat my pussy so good... fuck... oh..." You were giving it everything you had to not scream as he slipped two fingers into your juice-gushing cunt.

You were simply the sweetest of them all. Cillian grew high off of the way you tasted. It was like no other, truly incomparable to anything. None of the ripest and sweetest fruits could even begin to beat the taste of you. He'd happily die right here with your pussy in his mouth and the sound of your pretty sighs. Despite the deafening grip your thighs had on his skull, he was reveling in the way he was completely wrapped up in you. Like you were a spider luring in prey, and now you've caught it. But let's not forget who's in charge here... of course, it's Jackson. He's not eating pussy to get her off. He's eating pussy to get himself off. It doesn't matter if she screams or cries for him to stop. If that's what he wants, he'll drink her up like the essence of life for the rest of time. And oh, how good your fucked out pussy tasted. Jackson made you cum over and over again on his tongue until you were sobbing and trying to shove him away from you, but you were so fucking dizzy and still in the middle of cumming, so you had the strength of a twig.

"Pl-Please... Jackson..." You mewled, tugging on the roots of his hair to get him off of your pounding cunt. "It's too much... please... it's too much... fuck... stop... please!"

Tears were streaming down your face, and with your blurred vision, you looked down to see Jackson's newly opened ice-cold eyes staring straight up at you. You had seen that look from him a million times. You knew how much Cillian loved eating your pussy, and at this point, it wasn't even about being his character but enjoying the feeling of your heavenly sex in his mouth. The look in his eyes was identical to what a blood-drunk beast would look like as it devoured its unwilling and innocent victim. His pupils were blown wide, and his nostrils flared at the sight of your overstimulated tears. And this only made his cock that much harder.

"I'm serious, stop... please..." You whimpered, eyes falling in and out of focus. It truly felt like he was consuming you. "F-Fuck... you've had enough... please... Jacks... Jackson..." Your head falls back as you dissociate from reality. The confined space of being in this airplane bathroom with him wasn't helping with the overstimulation. Jackson had you cornered, as a predator would with its prey, and there truly was nowhere else for you to go from here.

"Alright..." He panted, lips smeared in cum and arousal as well as his own spit. "Time for me to fill you with my fucking babies."

"Just need a break... please... I need a break..." You wheezed, leaning against the wall for support. "Please... Jackson... I don't think I can handle it..."

"Oh, but that's not what your cute little pussy is saying... is it now?" He purred, spreading your folds open with two lazy fingers to peek at the sight of your dripping hole. "I'm fucking you whether you like it or not, princess... don't fucking deny me of what I'm so fucking entitled to..." He growled as he manhandled you into being in a more bent over position. You were completely helpless to him now. "If you even make a noise, I swear to god..." He huffed as he shoved your now discarded panties into your mouth to gag you. You let your head hang low with shame as you heard him undo his belt and zipper. "You're gonna enjoy this, I know you are," He whispered condescendingly into your ear, swiping a falling teardrop off of your cheek and licking it off of his thumb.

Your eyes squeezed shut as he poked at your entrance with the thick head of his cock, slowly teasing it in and out. Not enough to honestly give you anything, but just enough to rile you up. You pressed your ass back into his hips, and he willingly slipped in his cock. Despite how overstimulated you were just moments ago... your pussy changed its mind and decided it needed cock like your entire life depended on it.

"Look at that," He cooed as he slowly rutted his dick in and out of you. "I didn't think you'd fit so snugly around my cock. I thought you were gonna be a loose whore based on all the men you sleep with..." He said, and you mumbled through your cotton panties, but it barely made a sound. "Fuck... I see why he wants to marry you now..." Jackson hissed as he began truly pistoning his cock in and out of you. The wet noises were disgustingly loud, and anyone walking past could hear what was happening and immediately be suspicious. As well as the sound of his hips clapping with your ass as he fed you with his cock. Your mind was completely blank, like a loading screen almost the feeling of his dick was the only thing that mattered to you, your mind barely perceiving anything else.

The claustrophobia you felt before was non-existent, and it no longer was clear to you that you were literally in an airplane bathroom. You felt like you genuinely just were made to be fucked in the best way possible. Only by Cillian, of course... or well... uh... Jonathan... or Jackson...

"Excuse me?!" A knock from the outside pulled you out of your dumb whore state and made you look back at Jackson with a panicked expression. "How much longer are you gonna be in there? I really need to use this bathroom!"

"Too bad, wait for another one," Jackson grunted to the unwanted customer. "I'm gonna be a while."

"For fuck's sake..." The stranger grumbled before you heard the sound of them waddling away.

"You heard that?" Jackson growled in your ear, piercing your G-spot with every thrust of his hips. "I'm gonna take my sweet time with you, princess..." He moaned, hips trembling a bit at how good it felt to fuck you like this. The thrill of doing this was also an aphrodisiac to this situation, only fueling the fire. Of course, you'd done sneaky little things like this with Cillian before, but nothing this... outrageous... this risky. "How will your boyfriend feel about getting back to your hotel to find you full of another man's cum?" Jackson was groaning quietly. He was on the edge of bursting inside of her, but he wanted to hold on just a little longer. "He's not gonna be very happy, hmm?" He laughed at your tears, feeling the way you squeezed around him and told him you were starting another orgasm. And holding on to the edge was getting much harder for Jackson... with the way your cunt was absolutely trying to milk him for his cum.

"Mmmphhff!!" You moaned through your cotton gag, now soaked in your spit. Jackson laughed at the sounds you were making. He grabbed ahold of you by your hair while also keeping a steady grip on your lower back to keep you in place. He yanked on your hair like you were just a doll and looked at your big red eyes, sore from all the crying.

"Keep on cryin' like that, baby," He huffed, squinting his eyes on your orgasmic face. "Gonna spill my load into you cause of how fucking pretty you look when you cry..."

You cried in shame and embarrassment but also in pure pleasure that he was making you feel with his cock alone. You felt the hot spurts of cum begin to fill you up, and with that sensation alone, you felt yourself coming undone again. Jackson used you like a fleshlight, painting the inside of you white with his seed and getting off on how fucking pathetic you looked with tears smeared all over your face as well as your tits hanging out of your top. He looked away from your wet face to your coincidentally gushing pussy. He had never seen you so wet before, and his cock slid in and out of you like a waterslide. His cum was spilling out of you as his orgasm intensified at the beautiful sight of what his cock was doing to you.

"Shit," He hissed. His movements were sloppy, but it didn't matter to you because you had pretty much left this realm with how fucked-out you were. "Fuck, I need you to have my kids," He cried out, and you noticed that little bit of Irish slip out in his shaky voice. "Need to see ya pregnant... and fuck... fuckin' plump with my baby in ya... and... everyone will know who you fuckin' belong to..." Cillian whimpered, his hands now on both of your hips as he stilled himself completely. He shot the last squirts of cum deep into your womb.

He panted heavily as he remained inside of you. You both came down from your highs collectively. He slowly pulled out of you and that softness that lingered in the air immediately dissipated as he pushed you roughly down on your knees, face smushed against his wet cock.

"Lick me clean, slut," He commanded, hand placing your head firmly against his cock. "Want to see how good you are with your mouth."

You closed your eyes as you sucked off his cock. He was biting his lip to keep in the soft moans. His cock was still highly sensitive, but fuck... the feeling of you licking and sucking on him like he was a lollipop or some kind of sweet treat. He watched you with hooded eyes as you kissed down his clean shaft, now only coated in your saliva. Your lips wrapped around one of his balls, and swirled your tongue around them softly. He let out a loud gasp, growing properly hard again at the feeling of your mouth on his balls.

"Fuck... open your mouth... I'm gonna cum again... fucking hell..." Jackson grumbled, pushing you off of him and stroked his cock with his tip on your tongue. "I want you to swallow every last drop..."

"Yes... sir..." You nodded obediently, mouth watering, ready for the taste of his cum on your tongue.

With one last groan, he released his sperm into your waiting mouth. "Oh... fuck... princesss..." He sighed, cum spilling from your full mouth. As you tried to gulp it all down. His cock twitched a few more times before he stopped and pulled away, panting for air.

You licked your cum-covered lips and chin, smiling dopily like you were stoned. He tucked himself carefully back into his underwear and did his pants and belt back up, all while smirking at you.

"Jackson..." You whispered, melting to the floor after putting your underwear back on.

"Cillian, now, love," He whispered, crouching before you to help you back onto your feet. "You did so good for me... I'm so in love with ya..." He kissed along your face, holding you in his arms. "It's okay... baby girl, I'm right here," You buried your face in his neck and breathed heavily. You stood there while hugging until Cillian was fully dressed and stepped out. You waited it out in there for a little longer. You looked at yourself with red eyes and a dazed expression on your face. What had just happened to you, if anyone were to see you, was pretty clear. So as you slipped out of the bathroom, you didn't notice the two air hostesses watching you leave the bathroom that reeked of sex and cum now.

Cillian was sitting calmly, reading a book, and when he looked up at you, his eyes were full of love and also a look of concern.

"You alright, baby?" He hummed, stroking your hair affectionately. You nodded and pushed your face into his soft shirt, whining. "What is it? Did I hurt you too much?" He whispered with knitted eyebrows.

"N-No... daddy..." You whispered and he knew immediately what was wrong.

"Oh... baby," He hummed, quickly realizing you could push the armrest between you up, and he did just that, scooting closer to you and pulling your legs over his lap to cradle you more. "You sweet thing... you did so good for me," He praised lovingly, leaning down and kissing you softly. The position was a little suggestive to onlookers but not quite enough to necessarily get you in any trouble. "You're so fuckin' beautiful," He whispered with your spit drenching his lips, teeth, and chin. "Best girl... my best girl," He muttered before placing wet, sloppy kisses on the crowns of your forehead. "I love you..."

"I love you... Cill..." You smiled sleepily up at him, pussy mildly throbbing as you looked up at him. You just felt heavy with love and primal desire. It was hard to even focus on what you were saying or doing. Too preoccupied with taking in everything Cillian was doing. In a way, it was as if you were feeling everything he was feeling as if you had become one in mind and soul, both just existing, eternally connected and synced. It was symbiotic and so full of love. "You take such good care of me..."

Cillian laughed softly and kissed your face harder. "I could never care more about anything than you..." He hummed into your scalp. "You're my girl... you're... my world."

After those six words, nothing else really was comprehensive for you. You two cuddled up for the rest of the flight until you were made to buckle up for the touchdown. The long and treacherous journey of getting off an airplane into one of the busiest airports in the world was all a mind-numbing bore to you, and all your mind could really focus on was that Cillian was by your side with his hand resting on your lower back, guiding you through the maze-like hallways. In fact, you were in a trance at the way his arms looked carrying the heavy bags. You practically drooling with your lips parted, nearly wanting to take a bite from him. His arms drove you crazy, and the pure strength that he radiated from his body... that older, warm man.. sort of energy.

"C'mon, honey, this way, we're catchin' a car," He wrapped you up in one of his arms as he pushed along the trolley with your suitcases on it. "Don't wanna lose ya in New York City..." Cillian chuckled, and you just smiled up at him, silently looking around in amazement. "Still bein' quiet for me? Tha's okay, love, take your time..." He whispered sweetly.

You sat in the back of a black car, headed to a hotel on the city's other side. You sat in the middle, leaning on Cillian to rest as he looked down at you, the rising sun shining on his face angelically.

"Cillian..." You mumbled into his shoulder. "I'm cold."

"Yeah, baby, that's okay... you can hug me, c'mere... let me hold ya..."

This time, Cillian wrapped you up into his arms and ran his hands up and down your body. Checking into the lobby was long and tedious and dealing with Americans and other women ogling at Cillian made you want to puke your guts out. Like... stop looking at him like that. It was irritating the way they looked at you too, but at this point, you were too tired to care.

"Go on, baby... they've already sent our luggage to our room. I'll meet you there... Just gonna get us a snack..." He whispered in your ear as he was speaking to the receptionist. "It's okay..." He slid you one of the key cards to the room and patted you on the back. Hesitantly, you looked at him with a pout before walking to the elevator to find your room.

You were on one of the top floors of the tall building, and the hallways were long and white and blinding. It took you around another ten minutes to find your room. You sighed as you unlocked the door at the sound of a loud *BEEP* and waddled your way in; you let out a bloodcurdling scream at the sight of a man sitting on your bed with a sickening smile.

"Hello, darling," Jackson's cold voice chuckled in the dark. "I guess you weren't expecting me..." He laughed as he stood up from the bed. Your heart dropped, and part of you panicked... stupidly, you knew it was just Cillian continuing this little affair you were having. But part of you genuinely believed that it was Jackson, and you thought Cillian was downstairs, utterly unaware of this. He was so convincing.

"Wh-What...?" You murmured dumbly as he walked over to the door and locked it behind you.

"Oh darling, did you miss me?" His eyes in the dark were still eerily bright and unnerving, pupils blown wide as he looked at you like an owl in the night. "I bet your little pussy did," He said in faux sympathy, his hand cupping you through your shorts. You still hadn't fully recovered from what you two did just four hours ago, or however long it had been. "I can feel how hot you are for me..." Jackson spat. You were so entranced by what was happening that you didn't notice the complete outfit change. He was wearing a full suit. How would Cillian have time to beat you to your room and also get changed into a nice suit? But you didn't care. He was here, and that was all that mattered.

"Jack-Jackson... Cillian will be back... at any moment..." You whimpered as he pinned you against the wall and tugged your shorts down. "He'll... He'll hurt you... for touching me!" Jackson laughed wildly at your whimpering.

"Oh baby, I'd like to see him try," His laugh was sadistic and that of a villain's. "Think I'd... strap him to a chair and make him watch as I fuck you better than he ever could..." Jackson growled, pulling off his clothes. "Imagine how jealous he'd be... seein' me treat you like a whore, taking my cock so nicely... bet he'd never be able to look at you the same way again..."

"Jackson..." You said with tears in your eyes.

"Oh, you gonna cry more?" He snickered as he curled his fingers around your throat and pushed you down onto the bed. As quickly as you fell, he was on top of you, undoing his pants. "Fucking hell... thought about this tight pussy... gonna have to fill it with all of my cum..."

"Pl-Please... I'm still too sensitive..." You whispered and squeezed your eyes shut as he pulled your shorts down completely and ripped open your shirt. He was treating you like an inanimate object.

"Oh shut up, I know you fucking want me," He huffed. Your underwear was pushed to the side now, and the tip of his cock was pressing into your used hole. "Fuck..." Jackson groaned, shutting his eyes as your cunt squeezed around him like a vice.

"Please... I can't... I can't do anymore..." You cried, trying to push him off you, but it was no use. Your arms were like noodles at the moment. "Jackson..."

"Your pussy says otherwise," He laughed menacingly before slowly pulling back out with just his thick head in you. "You're so cute when you cry..." He snapped his hips back into you roughly, and you mewled as he brushed against your G-spot.

"Oh!" You cried. His hands groped at your tits as he began fucking you like some sort of inanimate sex doll. You couldn't deny the pleasure that was mixed in with the pain. It was all-consuming and truly debilitating. "Fuck..." Tears were slipping down your face as your body bounced with each thrust.

Jackson was fucking you like a feral animal, with absolutely no concern as to how you were feeling. Sweat was dripping down his neck, his pelvis slapping against your swollen clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling body. God, it was shameful how good he fucked you. Cillian was really giving it his all to be this character.

"So fucking easy," He grunted. "You're such a fucking whore..." He growled. His American accent was spot on and eerily felt like someone else was talking and not Cillian.

"J-Jackson... you need to slow down... you're hurting me..." You whined as he pulled out of you and shoved you over onto your stomach before shoving his fat cock back in you. "O-Oh!" You choked out, reaching out your arms and gripping the bedsheets. "Slow... slow down... Jackson..." You whined, pressing your face into the sheets as you moaned pathetically.

"Shut the fuck up," He hissed, holding your plush hips in his hands as he rocked you back and forth on his cock. Jackson was loving the sight of your ass bouncing back and forth while he fucked you like a doll. The way he was fucking you was simply animalistic. Like he was the predator and you were the prey, he had found your weak spot, and he was now tearing you open, licking his teeth as he prepared you to eat. "Take my cock like a good girl would, bitch."

"Fuuuuuuck...." You cried out dizzily, mouth gaping wide as he tugged on your hair from behind. It was like a shot out of a porno, the sickening way his skin slapped against yours, or the way his hips were like literal pistons, drilling in and out of you. Meanwhile, the harsh grip on your hair was lulling you into a state of pure sex. You truly did not give a fuck what was happening, too distracted and in love with the fullness of his cock, fucking like all you were good for. "Jackson... Jackson.... please... fuck... please!" You weren't quite sure what you were trying to say. Your brain was no longer in coerce with your teeth and tongue and you were just spewing out broken sentences.

"What? You gonna cum?" He laughed sadistically. "That's right, cum on my dick, get it wet."

"Ernghhggghhg....." You drooled, moaning as he dropped your hair and quickly grabbed at your ass to fuck you further into your orgasm. Gee, you hoped the walls were thick with how loud you were being. With the slamming headboard and the way you were screaming for it, the surrounding hotel guests and people passing by in the hallways outside would surely hear every echo of it.

"So pretty when you're cockdrunk," Jackson grunted. "Bet your pretty boyfriend never fucks you like this... bet he's never got you seein' stars," His American accent made you squeeze. And in a way, he was right. You had never been so thoroughly spent as you were right now, and every nerve in your being was lit in some sort of rampageous flame and was endlessly burning in the pleasure. "Mmmm... I'm right... and you know it." He slapped your ass hard, having you seeing stars hanging around the room.

"J-Jaaaaccck...." You whined, pussy clenching down on his cock.

"Fuck..." He hissed disapprovingly. "Don't fuckin' do that, bitch... I'm not cumming in you yet."

"Please..." You whined. "Please, I need you... daddy... please..."

At this point, you were too dumb to realize it truly wasn't Cillian who was fucking you. You'd never call another man daddy if it weren't Cillian, no matter how in love or obsessed you were with that person, no man could ever be your daddy the way Cillian is. There was something fundamentally twisted inside of you that you didn't realize or immediately recognize the fact that this cock wasn't uncut and was a different shape. But anyway... on with the story...

"Aw... daddy?" He cooed mockingly. "You need your daddy?" Jackson cackled, gripping your hips in a painfully hard way, enough to leave hand-shaped bruises. "That's right, I'll cum in you... you can make me a daddy..." He smirked. "You're gonna take all that cum I give you and make us a fuckin' baby."

"Fuck... whatever you want..." You sighed, still delirious on pleasure. "Please... just want you to cum in me... please..."

Jackson chuffed cheekily and continued using you like some sort of cum-dump. "You're gonna do good in being full of my cum... I think you'll be able to handle it."

You nodded helplessly; your ass and your hips were throbbing with the way he was holding you. A never-ending give-and-take pushing you over the edge over and over again. It was a miracle when he finally came, groaning and moaning.

"Fuck, take it, milk my fucking cock," Jackson moaned loudly, throwing his head back and his hair splayed out on his face. His cum was thick and strong, hitting you like some sort of shotgun. You moaned with each spurt, gasping for air with how much arousal you were spilling from your used cunt.

"Oh... fuck..." You whispered, biting into your arm. "So good... so good... daddy..." He groaned as he pulled out of you and pushed you down onto the bed carelessly, not even bothering to watch how his load slowly leaked from your pussy or even to watch you finger it back in cherishingly.

"Wh-Where are you going, Cillian?" You asked softly, looking back up to meet him in the eyes. A chill went down your spine at the sight of his slightly longer hair and lighter-colored roots; he stared at you with the face of a thirty-year-old man, not a forty-year-old one. You were so confused and still so out of it.

Jackson just laughed and pulled his pants back on, grabbing his things before waving goodbye as he walked out of the room. What the fuck just happened? Cillian was doing a convincing job at how he was playing this Jackson character. You wondered how long he would be gone for. You needed comforting. You tucked yourself into bed with shaky legs and tears because Cillian wasn't there. You really needed him to hold you and to hear his voice.

Eventually, after about a dozen tears were shed, the door cracked open, and Cillian came with two small plates of cake for you to eat. "Oh baby, was I gone that long?" Cillian whispered, setting the plates down neatly on the bedside table. "I'm so sorry, my sweet girl," He whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and kissing you on the forehead. He seemed... so... not sweaty... and different. You stayed quiet and just nodded sadly as he pulled away and quickly got changed.

He crawled into bed with you, pulling the covers up, and quickly wrapped you up in his arms. "Daddy..." You whispered.

"Mmm?" He hummed while brushing your hair with his fingers.

"You were really rough with me... just then..." "What?" He asked with a confused tone. "What do you mean? I'm so sorry... did I sit on your hand or something?" "N-No... I'm talking about when... you were just in here... doing Jackson..."

"What do you mean?" He sat you up now. You two were sitting in each other's arms and staring at each other. His eyebrows were knitted as if he didn't recall what just happened. "I did pretend to be Jackson... on the plane? Yes?" He nodded, trying to see where you were going with this.

"No... I'm not talkin' bout the plane, silly..." You shook your head, laughing softly. "Just now... in the room... when you... you know... from behind..." You bit your lip, looking down at the sheets that were covering your bare legs entangled with Cillian's.

"I haven't been in here for..." Cillian hummed while checking his watch for the time. "Twenty minutes or so?" He looked back up at you, blue eyes flashing even more confusion. "Did you fall asleep and have a wet dream about daddy?" Cillian teased, leaning in and nuzzling your cheek while giggling.

"N-No! It was real... what do you mean?" You asked, now slightly offended that Cillian was trying to trick you. But part of you was putting the pieces together in your head, even if they didn't make sense. "Cillian... I've still got your cum... dripping out of me..."

"That must've been from earlier," Cillian sighed as he laid you back down, still in a laughing fit. "You're so cute... baby... can't believe you dream about me..." Cillian laughed, not noticing your silence. He looked up at the ceiling with a big grin on his face while you just pressed your face to his chest in hopes of it calming you down. Your eyebrows were furrowed deeply, and your mouth held a heavy frown. "Do you dream about me often?"

"Yes... but this wasn't a dream... Cillian... why are you trying to make that up? I'm being serious..."

"Love, I haven't been in here this whole time..." Cillian said a bit more seriously. He ran his thumb along your cheek lovingly. "You must've just fallen asleep... and had a little sexy dream about 'ye old Jackson Rippner."

"Yeah..."

"I know how sleepy you can get," Cillian whispered before pecking you softly. He talked against your lips, and for a brief moment, as if a screen were flashing, you saw Neil Lewis talking to you hotly against your lips, his breath and yours connected. He had you pinned on the couch. It was straight out of that scene with Violet and Neil on his couch. But as quickly as it came, it left. "We did travel quite a lot."

"Yeah..." You whispered, still taken aback by your vision. "Erm... let's just go to sleep... Cillian... I'm really tired..."

"Okay... yer not upset by me are ya?" He asked softly as you laid down and got into your usual spooning position. You faced away from him with that look on your face.

"No, baby, I'm just tired..." You whispered with red eyes. "Please just hold me... I love you so much..."

"I love you too, darling..." Cillian hummed, kissing along your shoulders. "Goodnight, my love, sweet dreams."

"Goodnight..." You murmured back absentmindedly.

Eventually, Cillian was snoring softly behind you, and though you felt sleepy, you just lay there and stared at the glowing clock face. You truly felt like you were going crazy. Why would Cillian lie to you and say that that was just a dream? You glanced down at your hips, which now held faint purple bruise-like indents from where Cillian had held you so hard. That did happen, right? You didn't dream that. Your dreams are never that vivid... or realistic.

Or maybe you were that tired? You have been traveling a lot. It was literally impossible for a movie character to come to life and fuck you. Right? You're just tired and confused, that's all. It was a dream. You convinced yourself.

Just a dream.

Just a...

Harmless...

Little...

Dream...

You repeated in your head as you let yourself fall asleep.

Was it?

EHEHEHEH ENJOY <3 I CAN'T WAIT TO RELEASE THE THIRD PART YAYAYAAYAYY!!!

(there will be a part 3 and it'll be the last part)

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #neil lewis #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #jackson rippner #red eye #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut

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senditcolton · 8 months

Text

I'm Still Glad I Met You

Isn't it profound, how such a brief experience can be so special?

summary: Emmaline 'Emma' Evans never expected to be in Paris, searching for inspiration to bring back to her new cafe in New York. She certainly didn't expect to meet Nico, a stranger who doesn't feel like one. But is it just the City of Love twisting her emotions, making her fall for someone who is sure to be temporary? Or is this is the start of something real? song inspo: need by taylor swift word count: 12.5k warnings: hinted intimacy (non-explicit), brief language, resolved angst. written for @wyattjohnston's winter fic exchange to @offside-the-lines with love 🤍❄️🖋️ bonus epilogue!

Au nom de l’équipage d’Air France, nous vous souhaitons une bonne journée.

From the large windows, Emmaline Evans watches the darkened tarmac pass, her plane headed towards the gate. There was still a small part of her that couldn’t believe that she in Paris. It was exciting even though she wouldn’t be able to explore until tomorrow. But she knew to hold her excitement close to her chest, letting her head guide her instead of her heart.

She wasn’t here for a vacation. She was here for work.

While this trip was an early birthday gift from her parents, it was bought with the express purpose of helping her prepare for the opening of the café she and her best friend Morgan had been planning for the past year and was now only 4 months away.

La Crème de la Crème. The best of the best. That was the name and that was the goal; to bring a bit of France back to Greenwich Village and impress all who walked in with Morgan’s coffee talents and Emma’s pastry skills. And what better way to bring Paris to New York than to take inspiration from the City of Love itself?

Pulling her phone out from her purse, she checks the time. 8pm. She scours through her memory until she remembers that New York is six hours behind. Opening her messages, she shoots off a quick text to Morgan.

Landed! I’m going to get to the apartment and then try to sleep. How are things going over there? sent 8:08pm

The rustling of the other passengers pulls Emma’s attention from her phone, realizing that it was time to depart from the plane. She hastily grabs her items, lugging her suitcase from the overhead bin and makes her way through the airport. She utters a quick thank you to the universe for her knowledge of the French language or she would be completely lost. It isn’t until she has successfully grabbed a cab and began the route to the Paris apartment, does she check her messages again.

It's all good here! The rest of the equipment came today so the plan is to finish installing that today. And then all that’s left is the menu, staff, and décor. received 8:16pm

You make it sound so easy. sent 8:37pm

Babe, we’ve been planning this for ages. We are literally in the homestretch! received 8:42pm

I know, it’s just… ugh. I wish you were here with me. This is our dream after all. sent 8:44pm

I do too. But I’m perfectly fine holding down the fort here. You just focus on Paris and all the amazing desserts you’re going to recreate when you come back stateside! (don’t forget to make notes about the coffee as well!) received 8:49pm

I don’t know coffee nearly as well as you but I’ll do my best. Thanks, Morgan. I literally couldn’t do this without you. sent 8:53pm

You know it. received 8:54pm

A small chuckle escapes from Emma’s throat at Morgan’s reply. She sighs, looking out the taxi window, blinking a few times at the sights in front of her. She was so absorbed in the everything she left behind that she wasn’t even paying attention to where she was. She had entered the city limits. She arrived.

Paris. The city seemed to sparkle as she rode down the narrow streets and alleyways. It was early in the evening which meant the streets were crowded with people. Emma had always believed that New York was the city that never slept but she had a feeling that Paris would prove her wrong.

The taxi pulls up to the Airbnb that Emma rented and she takes her luggage, thanking her driver before grabbing the key out of the lockbox and making her way up the narrow staircase. She looks out the small window, looking at the city stretching out in front of her, the lights of the Eiffel Tower shining in the distance.

These next 4 days would be magical. That much she was sure of. What else could this experience be described as?

~*~*Day One*~*~

Emma had been in Paris for less than 16 hours and she had already found so much inspiration. It wasn’t just the cafés that she had stopped at so far, it wasn’t even the assortment of treats she had already eaten; it was the city. She thought the stories she heard about Paris were exaggerations – no city could be that amazing. People surely had to be over-romanticizing the city of romance. But they weren’t.

Here, in this moment, sitting at the Café de la Paix outside the Grand Hotel, watching as the people passed her by, listening as the chatter of multiple languages bouncing off her eardrums… she realized those stories were true. The city itself brought about its own kind of energy, cocooning her in a beautiful dream. The afternoon sun was warm on her face and Emma could only hope to bottle a mere drop of this feeling and pack it in her suitcase to bring back to New York along with her notebook that was already filled with scribbles and notes about the delicacies that she had sampled.

“Je peux me asseoir ici?”

The slightly butchered pronunciation pulls Emma out of her reverie. She looks over to see a man standing with his hand lightly resting on the chair across from her. She shoots him a smile, her hand gesturing towards the seat.

“It’s all yours.”

“Is it that obvious that I don’t speak French?” the stranger asks her as he sits down, a sheepish look on his face.

“I never said that,” Emma laughs, her lighthearted teasing pulling a relaxed smile onto his lips. “But you shouldn’t feel too bad,” she continues. “I’ve noticed that if you have even a hint of an accent, the locals here switch to English, even if you actually know how to speak French.”

“I take it that’s happened to you?”

“The American is hard to mask,” she replies with a slight shake of her head. “I’m Emma.”

“Nico,” the stranger replies, reaching for her outstretched hand to give it a polite shake. “So, American huh?”

“Born and raised. What about you? I don’t mean to pry but I do hear a… unique accent.”

“I’m from Switzerland but I work in America,” Nico explains.

“And you’re in Paris for…” Emma asks, unsure why she is so interested in this – very handsome – stranger’s story. But Nico doesn’t seem to mind her questions as he gives a small shrug and replies with that same gentle smile on his face.

“My job. Some press work,” he says, vague but nonchalant.

“Wow. You’re from Switzerland, you work in America, but your job also takes you to Paris? Quite a world traveler.”

“I’m very lucky,” Nico says before turning the question back to her. “What about you? Are you here for work or pleasure?”

“Work. But maybe a little bit of pleasure?”

“Well, now you’ve intrigued me.”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“I’d still love to hear about it.”

“Really? I don’t want to waste your time,” Emma says, hesitant. However, she can’t deny the small spark of hope that flutters in her chest over the prospect of Nico wanting to talk to her. Who wouldn’t deny the attention of an attractive and kind stranger?

“I have nothing planned for the rest of the day,” Nico assures her. “Plus, you’re one of the few people who has been welcoming to me, outside of the people from my… company.”

“Are the Parisian’s living up to the ‘stuck up French’ stereotype?” she laughs.

“Unfortunately for them, they are,” Nico replies with a laugh of his own. “But I guess it is pretty fortunate for me.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have run into you.”

Emma feels her cheeks flush as his casual flattery, her head ducking down in shyness. When she looks up, she can see the grin on Nico’s face – as if he enjoyed making her flustered – and Emma is struck with the strange juxtaposition of wanting to playfully wipe that smirk away but also wanting to make sure it stayed just so she could see it more.

“Well, if I’m going to tell you my life story, I’m going to need more coffee,” she finally replies, before waving over the waitress.

The day ends up being a waste for Emma – well, at least in the work sense. She doesn’t leave Café de la Paix until late, sun hanging low in the sky; not nearly enough time left in the day to hit all of the cafés, boulangeries, and patisseries that she planned on visiting. But she finds that she doesn’t care. Because all those ‘wasted’ hours were spent talking to Nico.

He was funny and sweet and charming and drop dead gorgeous. Talking to him felt so natural, like they had known each other for ages even though they just met that day. The entire experience of him sitting across from her in a Paris café, listening to her stories, telling her stories of his own, and constantly shooting her that beautiful dimpled smile… it felt like something out of a dream.

The cynical part of her psyche wanted to shake her; he was a stranger and she was caught up in the romance of Paris. That was all. But the hopeless romantic side of her wanted to stay in this cotton-candy colored haze for as long as she could.

Which is why, now, as she sits in her rental apartment, her notebook splayed open in front of her, she isn’t brainstorming a menu or planning the ingredient list for the café or even scrolling through Pinterest for interior design inspiration.

Instead, her eyes are tracing the scrawl of numbers that Nico wrote in the top right-hand corner.

A number that was written as a request for him to join her on her exploration of Paris.

And – after she banishes that negative voice into the corner of her mind – Emma enters the number into her messages, texting him an invitation to meet her at Du Pain et des Idees on 34 Rue Yves Toudic.

She falls asleep to the knowledge of Nico’s reply.

See you then. received 9:18pm

~*~*Day Two*~*~

This was absolutely ridiculous.

That was all that Emma could think as she closes the door to her rented Parisian apartment.

Granted, a lot of things about this situation were ridiculous. The fact that she was in Paris. The fact that she was there to help open her dream café. The fact that everything she ate tasted better than she could ever imagine.

But the most ridiculous part of all? Nico.

The man that she had only met yesterday and yet… there was something about him. His gentle eyes, his soft smile, the dimples in his cheeks.

He was at the boulangerie when she arrived, a coffee in hand and an Escargot a la Pistache for her. Another thing to add into the ridiculous column – that pastry was the reason that particular store was on her checklist.

And then the day that followed… even more unbelievable. Walking down the Parisian streets with Nico by her side, taking multiple pit-stops into cafés and patisseries and boulangeries, talking about everything but also nothing at all. Nico stayed by her side into the late afternoon, until his job called him away.

There was a constant battle in her mind about why this was happening.

The hopeless romantic was telling her that this was fate; she was supposed to meet Nico here in Paris and they were supposed to experience this moment in time together. That there was a reason, some grand universal scheme, that out of all the tables he could’ve chosen to sit at in Café de la Paix, he chose hers.

The cynic, however, was telling her this was nothing. He chose that table because it was open. He accompanied her today because it came with the promise of delicious French cuisine. And sure, maybe he liked the way she looked. Perhaps that was the reason he stuck around; he was a young handsome man in a foreign country who was simply looking for a good time.

But if that was all he wanted, why choose her? He could easily pick up any beautiful French woman at any bar or club, spend the night with her and then forget her name come morning. Why spend an entire with her, seeming perfectly happy keeping her company, even if that company included her ranting to him about the details of pastry and desserts, something he admitted he knew nothing about?

That unknowable ‘why?’ was haunting Emma. Was she being paranoid? Or was she being careful? Or was she just overthinking about something and someone that was temporary?

In three days’ time, she would be on a plane flying back to New York and whatever she had shared with Nico would be over. She would never see him again. That wasn’t something that her emotions were lying to her about. That wasn’t something refutable. She would never see Nico again. Because that is what this was: temporary.

The thing is… it didn’t feel temporary.

If this was fate or destiny or whatever, it didn’t feel like Nico was supposed to come into her life for a few days and then leave without another word exchanged between them. It felt more intentional.

But, once again, perhaps her emotions were twisting this reality into the fairytale that she so desperately wanted her life to be.

Emma is startled out of her spiraling thoughts by the shrill sound of her phone ringing. After rummaging through her bag, she grasps her cell and is surprised to see Morgan’s number flashing on her screen.

The spike of fear that rushes through her clears her head faster than even the strongest cup of coffee. There was absolutely no reason for Morgan to be calling unless it was an emergency; money troubles, delivery issues, hell it could even be something worse like mold or an electrical fire. Emma quickly accepts the call and lifts her cell to her ear, mentally preparing herself.

“Girl, you better tell me what the hell is going on with you,” Morgan’s voice echoes through the line, clear as day even with the white noise of New York in the background.

“What?” Emma asks, taken aback by Morgan’s unexpected words.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to avoid this,” Morgan quips, confusing Emma even further.

“Morgan, I really don’t know what you are talking about,” Emma sighs.

“The pictures? The angles? That love-struck look on your face in every single one of them?”

“What are you talking about?” Emma repeats.

“Babe, come on. I’ve known you for years now. You think I don’t know what it looks like when you’ve tripped head over heels for someone?”

Finally, the fog lifts from Emma’s brain.

“You’re talking about the pictures I’ve texted to you,” she sighs, collapsing onto the couch. In an effort to keep Morgan updated, she had asked Nico to occasionally take her picture – across from café tables or in front of other classic Parisian sights, all which she sent to Morgan with a quick message or an even faster emoji.

“What else would I be talking about?” Morgan says, the exasperated tone that Emma had grown to love hitting her eardrums.

“I thought you were calling me because there was some type of emergency.”

“This is a freaking emergency!” Morgan shouts, causing a laugh to fall from Emma, one which is ignored as Morgan barrels on. “My best friend has been struck by Cupid’s arrow in the City of Love!”

“I have not.”

“Don’t deny it. Now, spill. Who is the mysterious French gentleman?”

“He’s actually Swiss,” Emma retorts, knowing that Nico’s nationality was the least important reason Morgan was calling. A thought that is practically confirmed by Morgan’s next words.

“What?”

“Nothing. His name is Nico. He’s in Paris for work. I met him at Café de la Paix yesterday.”

“Really? That’s it? That’s all I get? The CliffsNotes version?”

“Well, to be honest, that’s all I really know. I mean, we’ve talked about family and childhood and general get-to-know each other things – food, movies, all that – but that’s it,” Emma explains, the words feeling stupid as they come out of her mouth.

When talking to Nico, she didn’t mind that they kept things surface level. She knew the reason for it. It was because of that word that continued to plague her – temporary. No point getting into the ‘deep stuff’ when all this would be a distant memory soon.

“Is he handsome?” Morgan’s voice sounds again, her focus on what she considered ‘important’ forcing a laugh from Emma’s lips.

“Drop dead gorgeous,” Emma sighs, Nico’s eyes and dimples and smile dancing through her mind.

“Have you slept with him yet?”

“Morgan!”

“What?” Morgan exclaims, her own laugh seeping into her words. “I feel like it’s a very relevant question: have you slept with the drop-dead gorgeous man you met yesterday, who is choosing to spend a day of his vacation with you?”

“I told you, he’s here for work. And we didn’t spend the entire day together.”

“Not important. Have you slept with him?”

“No, I haven’t,” Emma replies, the smile clear in her words.

“Bitch, why not?” Morgan shrieks, causing Emma to laugh once again.

“Because. Besides, you should know I don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I know, not since you got out of school. But come on! First off, I take it he’s not a pretentious wanna-be pastry chef, right?”

“He’s not.”

“Alright. Secondly, you’re never going to see him again so what’s the harm?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Emma sighs as she sinks deeper into the couch cushions, the joy dropping from her voice at yet another reminder of this being temporary.

“Woah, okay,” Morgan says, her own voice softening at the sadness broadcasted in Emma’s. “Something else is going on here.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Clearly, it’s not considering how upset you sound. Come on, it’s just me. Your best friend in the whole wide world who may tease you a bit but would never actually judge you.”

Emma takes a deep breath, looking around her apartment, trying to get her thoughts in order. Her eyes move to the window where she can still see the shape of the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

“It’s just…” she begins, hesitating, worried that the words will sound ridiculous. But she relaxes, remembering that it’s just Morgan. “I’ve never felt like this before. Nico, he’s… he’s so sweet and so kind. I mean, like you said, he’s spending his free time to hang out with me. Like, that must mean something right? I mean, if he wanted a piece of ass he could find one easily.”

“Not one as hot as yours,” Morgan interjects but Emma pays no mind to her words.

“It seems like he cares about me as more than just a potential hookup. And when I’m with him… it’s easy, like we’ve known each other for ages. Part of me wants to say that all these emotions are fake because – y’know – it’s the ‘City of Love’ and Paris just making me think this is more than it is but… I feel like I could fall in love with him.”

Emma can hear Morgan’s intake of breath, a tell-tale sign that she opened her mouth to speak but Emma cut her off before she could utter a syllable.

“I know that’s stupid to say about a man I met less than 36 hours ago. Plus, like you said, we’re never going to see each other again. His job apparently takes him all around the world so the chances of running into him after this are slim to none. But since I like him this much – in a way that is beyond casual – I’m worried that if I sleep with him or hell even kiss him, it will just make it harder to get over him. Which, again, is silly that I’m worried about getting over someone that I will might spend a maximum of four days with. Like – it’s just – I don’t know.”

Emma heaves another sigh, her hand moving to run through her dark hair before a half-hearted chuckle escapes her.

“This is why I don’t do casual.”

There is a small pause as Morgan takes in all of Emma’s words, the only sound filtering through the phone being the ambient noise of both of their respective cities. Emma finally hears a sigh from the other line before Morgan’s voice comes through.

“Listen, you know I’m not much for soulmates and true love and all of that. But I think you should just embrace it, whatever it is that you are feeling.”

This time, it is Emma who is about to voice a retort and Morgan who stops her before she can.

“Yeah, you’ll probably never see him again. Yeah, this is all temporary. But isn’t that even more reason to dive in headfirst while you can? Better to live a life of mistakes than a life of regret.”

Emma lets Morgan’s final statement sink in, her brain moving a mile a minute. She was right: what was there to lose? The question whirls around Emma’s head, the answer to which doesn’t instantly appear. The only thing that Emma could think to utter was another sigh.

“You know, sometimes you give really good advice.”

“It does tend to happen from time to time, thank you for noticing,” Morgan laughs. “And hey, regardless of what you decide over there in Paris, maybe this whirlwind romance will give you even more inspiration for the café!”

“And sometimes you give advice like that,” Emma jokes, the exasperation in the tone obvious.

“Eh, you win some, you lose some. I’ll let you get some dinner and sleep. Keep me updated – this time on everything not just the food, please and thank you.”

“Will do. Bye Morgan.”

Morgan replies with a quick goodbye before the call ends, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts once more. The hours pass and after ordering some takeout, Emma sits down at her small kitchen table. While she eats, Emma flips open to the back page of her notebook, writing down all the emotions and questions swirling around in her head, trying find some logical solution to her current predicament.

She’s in the middle of making a pros and cons list when her phone screen lights up with a message. Not thinking much of it, she doesn’t bother looking at the preview before unlocking her phone, ready to read another quip from Morgan. She is halted in her movements when she sees Nico’s name on the screen.

Hey. I had a lot of fun hanging out with you today. I was wondering if you wanted to do it again tomorrow? I have the evening off and would love to take in some Parisian nightlife. received 7:58pm

Emma’s eyes dance over his words before jumping back to her own looped handwriting on the pages of her notebook, trying to add this message into the tangle of possibilities. She is about to type up an excuse about why she can’t before a familiar voice echoes through her mind.

Better to live a life of mistakes than a life of regret. What’s the worst that could happen?

Yes, it could be a huge mistake letting Nico get any closer, letting him mess with her emotions any more than he already has. But maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be. And as Emma chews over those two possibilities, another question enters her mind.

Which would hurt more? Getting over Nico or never giving him a chance?

Emma looks back to her phone, the answer obvious to her now. She deletes the previously half written message before typing up a new response.

What did you have in mind? sent 8:06pm

Anything’s good for me. Just as long as you’re there. received 8:10pm

~*~*Day Three*~*~

Emma thought that she would get used to this feeling; the feeling of existing in a dream. It seemed to happen every hour she spent with Nico by her side. And now, the evening air warm as the two of them sit outside of Carette, the sweet taste of macarons in dancing across their tastebuds with the Eiffel Tower shining directly across the Seine… it was something out of a romance novel.

Emma glances across the small table towards Nico, wondering if he felt the same. He catches her stare and when that beautiful smile appears on his face, the butterflies erupt in her stomach. No one else had been able to illicit that reaction from her with something as simple a smile.

“Anything you would like to do next?” Nico asks, wiping the remnants of his dessert on the small paper napkins.

“Not really. I – well, we’ve – hit most of the cafés and stores on my list so I don’t have really anywhere I need to be,” Emma explains. Nico nods, acknowledging her words with a small hum. “I might just head back to my apartment. It is getting kind of late.”

“Need any company?”

His words catch Emma’s attention, the potential entendre clear within them. Emma shoots him a questioning look and it seems that her expression makes Nico realize how it must have sounded.

“I mean, not like that, I, um – what I was trying to say was would you like me to walk you home – keep you company on the way to your place,” he stumbles over his words and in the streetlights, Emma can see his cheeks turning a rosy pink. She assuages his fear with a soft laugh.

“I’d like that.”

“Good. Okay,” Nico sighs, his hands running through his hair. He smiles again, one that Emma returns, before he lifts himself from his chair, holding his hand out to Emma. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Emma says, placing her hand in his as he helps her from her seat. Emma is about ready release her grasp when she feels his grip slightly tighten, an action that brings another questioning look on her face.

“Is this alright?” Nico asks, his voice soft.

The butterflies in her stomach flip into overdrive at his gentle request. Although she had agreed to this – Date? Meeting? Rendezvous? Whatever. – with Nico, a part of her was still hesitant to make a more daring move. To dive head first as Morgan said. Vulnerability had never been much of a strong suit for her.

But considering that Nico was looking at her like she hung the stars, that sweet earnest expression on his face, she realized that she didn’t care if her heart would be broken by the end of this trip. Because whatever she shared with Nico… it was magical.

Why not keep the magic for as long as she could?

The smallest of smiles tugs at the corner of Emma’s lips as she adjusts her hold around Nico’s hand, weaving her fingers through his.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers, her voice wavering a bit; a waver that Nico hears but silences with a small squeeze of her hand and that bright dimpled smile.

The two of them leave the small café, walking hand in hand across the square, through the Trocadero Gardens to the Pont d’Iena bridge, the Eiffel Tower standing tall in front of them. The water of the Siene is a soft soundtrack below them and Emma finds herself caught up in the beauty of Paris.

Part of her thought that the novelty of the city would wear off eventually. But it seemed that Paris revealed something else wonderful to her every second she walked down its paved streets. As her and Nico walk underneath the sprawling base of the Eiffel Tower, Emma’s eyes trace the steelwork; its gentle arcs, its cross-work patterns, the diamond in the center that she knew lifted up and up, the lights hung on every intricate weld. This vacation was one of the best things that ever happened to her, that much she was sure of.

And it was made even sweeter with the presence of the man by her side, still holding her hand.

She looks over towards Nico, his eyes connecting to hers, a smile appearing on both of their faces. She lets him lead her away from the tower, down Champ de Mars.

Emma had previously thought that the city was manipulating her emotions, getting her hopes up over someone who didn’t feel the same. Now, she thought that perhaps the city brought Nico to her for a reason. That the city wasn’t scheming to break her heart… it was planning to open it and let Nico – with his gentle eyes and soft smile and adorable dimples – change her for the better.

Her daydreams are interrupted by a chorus of ‘oohs’ falling from the mouths of other tourists around her and Nico. Emma looks and sees a few people with their camera’s aimed behind them and when she turns, her jaw drops.

There in the background, the Eiffel Tower stands, it’s thousands of lights now flashing, making the entire structure look as if it was covered in glitter.

“I haven’t been able to catch the light show since I got here,” Emma whispers, partly to herself but her words also land on Nico’s eardrums. “I always forgot when it started.”

The two of them stand there, taking in the sparkling spire before Nico’s voice breaks the brief silence.

“Do you want a picture?”

“Could you? That be amazing,” Emma says, reaching into her purse before she stops. “Oh, right. My phone died.”

“I can use mine,” Nico replies without any hesitation, reaching into the pocket of his jeans.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he says, phone now in hand.

Nico starts to take a step back, his hand slipping from Emma’s grasp. But before he can fully let go, her fingers tighten around his. The action takes Nico by surprise, his eyes jumping to their intertwined hands before looking back to Emma.

“Take one with me?” she asks, her own voice soft, the question seeming to hold more weight than it should. Emma watches as a flicker of hesitation passes across Nico’s face, the uncertainty making her anxiety jump. But Nico once again silences her fear, his expression morphing back into that smile that made her heart skip in the best way before he gently nods his head, stepping back towards her.

Nico turns their bodies so the Eiffel Tower is behind them before holding out his phone. Emma takes a small breath before she moves, slotting her body next to his, her free hand lifting to rest on his chest. Every movement is tentative, unsure of how much Nico will allow. But when Nico drops her hand to wrap his arm around her body, pulling her closer, Emma relaxes. Her body curls into Nico’s, head resting on his shoulder as Nico angles the camera to capture the shimmering tower in the background.

Nico’s thumb presses the shutter button a few times before moving the phone closer to them as his hands navigate from the camera to the photos. Emma looks over the images, the smile never leaving her face. Each picture is beautiful; the two of them looking incredibly happy, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance. She turns her attention away from Nico’s phone, back towards him. But when their eyes connect, her breath catches in her throat.

The look on Nico’s face is one that Emma has seen a thousand times before, but only in movies and television shows. A look that had never once been directed towards her. A look of utmost gentleness, the yearning in Nico’s irises gleaming with the same intensity as the light show still happening behind them.

Nico’s head dips closer towards Emma’s upturned face and Emma finds her own body is stretching up to meet him. They pause, bare inches in between them and Emma can feel the gentle brush of Nico’s breath fanning across her cheeks.

Another moment of hesitation, the air thick with indecision, waiting for someone to make the final move.

In the end, it turns out to be Nico that leans in, closing the gap between them and capturing Emma’s lips in a gentle kiss. The press of him against her surprises Emma – not because she wasn’t expecting it, not because she didn’t want it, but because she couldn’t quite believe it was really happening.

The touch of him, the taste of him… it felt too good to be true.

But when she feels Nico start to pull away, the shock subsides and the hunger takes over. Her hands blindly lift to burrow into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, dragging him back into her as she reciprocates the kiss.

This time, it is Nico that is taken aback by her intensity but it is brief – a minuscule surprise – until he matching her passion, his own hands tightening around her waist, pulling her body impossibly closer to her. The kisses deepen, the two of them enveloped in the desire that had been steadily building for the past two days.

Eventually, they fall away from each other, dazed from the kisses shared. Emma glances up at Nico, the smile on her lips mirrored on his.

“Wow,” he whispers, his hand lifting to delicately brush his fingers across Emma’s cheekbones, causing a light laugh to escape her.

They stand there for a moment, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Emma’s thoughts spin in her mind; questions about what this means and if this changes anything. But eventually, one voice takes over.

Embrace it, Emma.

She wasn’t sure if that voice was that of her best friend or of Paris or her own, but it didn’t matter who spoke. All that mattered was that she listened.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be tomorrow morning?” Emma asks, the words light with the crooked grin that twisted itself onto her lips. The smirk is quickly matched by Nico, this time the double entendre being anything but unintentional.

“I don’t. Why do you ask?” he says, his own voice teasing.

“Oh, there’s just this café right next door to my apartment that I think you might enjoy,” Emma nonchalantly replies, matching his taunt.

“Planning another brunch?”

“It opens pretty early. And people always say that first customers get the freshest food.”

“Breakfast then,” Nico says, his agreement to her anything but subtle offer painted clearly on his face.

“Perfect,” Emma replies.

Nico leans forward, kissing Emma once more and if there was any question left in either of their minds, it was erased by the need coursing through their bodies. Nico pulls away, his arms falling from Emma’s frame – albeit reluctantly. He takes a single step back before offering his hand once again, one that is immediately accepted by Emma. Their fingers intertwine as Emma takes her place by Nico’s side. He looks down at her, his eyes bright.

“Lead the way.”

~*~*Day Four*~*~

The gentle morning sun rouses Emma from her slumber. The plush sheets brush against her bare skin, the warmth trapped within them comforting her, lulling her back into her dream. Or, more accurately, the dream of last night.

The brush of Nico’s hands against her skin, the strength of his hold on her hips, the feeling of his lips tracing her silhouette, the softness of his hair in between her fingers, his strong arms wrapped around her as they both fell asleep.

Arms that were no longer holding her.

Her brain slowly registers the emptiness surrounding her as she blindly reaches behind, hoping that her palm would land on the solid form of Nico. But when her hand lands on the softness of the sheets and solidness of the mattress, Emma’s eyes open.

She lifts her body upright, muscles protesting, still sore from last night’s activities. Her gaze dances around the studio apartment, finding it completely empty; only the fabric of her own clothes scattered across the floor.

Emma’s heart drops, the critical voice that had been kept dormant coming back in full force, assuming the worst.

He got what he wanted. He coerced himself into your bed and you were foolish enough to let him. And now that he accomplished what he set out to do, there was no reason for him to stick around.

The soft chime of the doorbell echoes around the apartment, cutting of the voice before it had a chance to berate her further. Emma sighs, lifting herself off the bed and grabbing the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door She throws it on before walking down the stairwell towards the entrance door.

She isn’t concerned about who is waiting on the street. It was most likely a delivery person who mistook her door for the side entrance to one of the stores next to her. But when she swings the wooden door open, the French poised on her lips, she is silenced by the sight of Nico standing on the other side of the threshold, a bag hanging from his arm and two cups of coffee in his hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to take your keys and make you think you lost them or something,” he explains, the sheepish look gracing his features. Emma stares at him for a moment, her thoughts rearranging themselves at the realization that she was wrong and he didn’t simply abandon her.

“It’s alright,” she says, stepping to the side. Nico crosses through the doorway as Emma closes the door behind him. He lets her climb back up the stairs first before they both re-enter the apartment.

Nico breezes over to the small table in the kitchen, leaving Emma still standing bewildered near the entrance. She watches as he sets down the two coffee cups before fishing into the brown paper bag and removing a pair of eclairs.

“I probably should’ve waited for you because my French is terrible. Thankfully, the workers remembered you so I trust that they got your order right,” Nico explains, shooting a smile her way. “You must really like that place if they know your name after only three days.”

“Wild & The Moon has great food. I think I’ve stopped there every morning since arriving,” she says, walking towards him and taking a seat in one of the chairs. Nico settles into the opposite seat, that soft smile on his face.

“Well, I’m not going to be one to disagree with a pastry chef,” he laughs, his cheery demeanor breaking through the thin wall that Emma had hastily created around her heart when she woke up to find him missing. She returns his grin, although it is slightly half-hearted. She can see her hesitance register on Nico’s face but Emma doesn’t address it. Instead, she grabs the coffee he placed in front of her, taking a small sip.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

“It’s perfect. Exactly what I always order,” Emma replies with a small shrug.

“That’s good to hear but it’s not exactly what I was asking.”

Emma looks back up at him, his eyes trained on her face. His emotions were painted so clearly onto his features; concern, confusion, and an inkling of fear. Emma sighs again, shaking her head slightly.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s bothering you so it isn’t nothing,” Nico shoots back, the earnestness in his statement startling Emma. Nico hesitates before reaching his hand out, brushing his fingers against hers before intertwining their grip. “Tell me, please.”

Emma takes a breath, the words sticking in her throat, unsure whether to tell him the truth or to brush off his worry again. But she decides to embrace it – every emotion, the good and the bad.

“I thought you left me,” she whispers, looking back up at him. “Took off after I fell asleep because this – whatever this is – is casual. And that’s what happens with casual.”

Emma immediately regrets the words when she sees Nico’s face fall.

“Is that what you think about me?”

“It’s what my worst intentions thought,” Emma answers honestly. “I’m glad I was proven wrong though,” she continues, a hopeful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. One that Nico blissfully returns.

“Last night…” he begins, pausing to deliberate his words. “Last night was amazing. Really. But I want you to know that I loved hanging out with you before that. I don’t want you to think it was all a ruse to get in your pants.”

Emma wants to tell him that she didn’t think that but it would be a lie so she just keeps her mouth closed, listening intently to Nico instead.

“I really like hanging out with you,” he concludes, looking back at her.

“I do too,” Emma responds with a smile.

She doesn’t tell him that she thinks she’s falling for him, or at least could see herself falling for him. Because, while this connection may be pure and genuine, that didn’t erase the fact that this wasn’t going to last. She was leaving tomorrow, back to New York. He would leave soon – back to wherever it was that his job took him next.

Instead, they sit there in silence, eating their food and sipping their coffee. It is a silence filled with a sense of comfort but an overlay of sadness as well. This was likely it for them.

“Today is your last day in Paris, right?” Nico asks, breaking the silence by voicing the unavoidable truth.

“Yeah. My flight is tomorrow at 9am.”

“Anything you want to do for your last day?”

“Still want to hear me rant about French pastry?”

“I have to admit, it is pretty entertaining,” Nico laughs, that jovial sparkle in his eyes. “And I was serious; I like hanging out with you. I don’t have anywhere I need to be so why not spend the day with you?”

The butterflies start up again; both at Nico’s sweet words but also at the heated way that he is looking at her from across the table, his eyes dancing over her frame. His gaze makes Emma suddenly aware of the only thing that is separating her bare skin from his sight is the fabric of her robe. She smirks, the desire sparking again as she lifts herself up from the table.

“Well, I looked at my notes and I actually managed to hit all the shops I wanted to,” Emma muses, taking a few steps towards Nico. “So, maybe we could go to the Louvre.”

“See the Mona Lisa?” Nico asks, his body turning towards her as she walks closer.

“Although I hear that it can get insanely crowded.”

“A little claustrophobic, wouldn’t you say?”

“My hosts – the couple who owns this apartment – left a long list of tourist spots that are close by. Some gardens, some museums…” she continues, her hands toying with the bow holding her robe together.

“That sounds relaxing,” Nico responds with a small hum.

“But I also have to do laundry and pack and I would prefer to not leave that to the last minute.”

“Completely understandable.”

“So, I don’t know really know what we should do today,” Emma sighs, her body settling between Nico’s parted thighs, the tie of her robe now partially undone, the fabric falling off one of her shoulders. His hands reach out and a small shiver rushes through Emma’s body at the sensation of his fingertips grazing the back of her thighs.

“Maybe we should just stay in?” Nico playfully suggests, his hands dancing up and down her bare skin.

“And waste our last day together?” Emma teases. Nico smirks up at her, one hand moving to the front of her body, gently undoing the remaining tie before slipping beneath the fabric, his fingers grazing her hipbone.

“I’m sure we can find something to do to pass the time.”

~*~*A Year and A Half Later*~*~

“Is the Frasier ready to go?” Emma shouts into the kitchen, her voice startling the few customers waiting by the pick-up counter.

“It’s loaded in the back of your car with the macarons and the components for the mille-feuille,” her sous-chef April calls back. “I’m need to grab profiteroles from the racks and we should be good to go.”

“We have all four flavors of macarons?”

“Yes, boss. Everything is accounted for.”

“Good. Be ready to leave in less than ten minutes,” Emma calls, pushing through the swinging kitchen doors, walking behind the café’s main counter. She weaves her way through the two baristas working on orders towards the pastry display. Leaning down, her scan over the pastries, taking inventory of what is left and what need to be replaced. She is almost halfway through her task before a nudge on her shoulder pulls her attention away from the case. Emma glances up to see Morgan’s blue eyes looking at her from underneath her blonde bangs. Wordlessly, she hands Emma a cup filled with a latte.

“You work her too hard,” Morgan says, nodding towards the kitchen, her words referencing April.

“Nothing she’s not used to,” Emma says, taking a drink. “Trust me. The chefs at her school were likely a hundred times more terrifying than me.”

“I don’t know, you’re pretty scary when you’re stressed.”

“Stressed? Who says I’m stressed?” Emma replies, her eyes turning back to the pastry case. “We need to replenish the Pain au Chocolate as soon as possible. It’s one of our best sellers so those five will probably be gone by the end of the morning rush and we don’t want the customers waiting.”

“I’ll get Jacob on that when he’s done taking orders. And you’d be stupid if you weren’t stressed.”

Her words bring Emma’s attention to her best friend and co-owner, her brows downturned into a scowl.

“Don’t give me that look,” Morgan scoffs. “Only a year since our business opened and a professional hockey team has asked us to cater their charity brunch? This is huge. You should be freaking out, it’s okay. You don’t have to hold it together for appearance’s sake, at least not in front of me.”

“You look pretty calm,” Emma retorts.

“I screamed my lungs out in the walk-in fridge when I got in this morning.”

“You should’ve told me. We could have screamed together,” Emma laughed, taking another sip of her coffee as her and Morgan departed from behind the counter, sitting down at one of the small tables in the corner.

“With nothing but the eggs and milk as our witnesses,” Morgan laughed. The two of them look out over the café, the sound of customers talking and the hiss of the milk steamers echoing around the space.

“This is insanity,” Emma sighs.

A year. A single year from the grand opening of their café, La Crème de la Crème, and they were already more successful than they could’ve imagined. And now, in a few minutes, Emma and April would be driving across the Hudson to cater for the New Jersey Devils charity brunch.

“If you meet the person that decided to take a chance on us, give them a giant kiss on the mouth from me,” Morgan says, her testament causing Emma to laugh.

“If you want to kiss a hockey player, you should come yourself.”

“Gotta make sure this place doesn’t burn down. But who knows, maybe you’ll fall madly in love with a hot stranger like you did the last time you went to a different city without me,” Morgan jokes. The reminder causes Emma to roll her eyes.

“Will you ever let that go?”

“Have you?”

The blush that invades Emma’s cheeks is all the answer Morgan needs. Yes, it had been a year since the café opened, another four months on top of that since Emma returned from her ‘research’ trip to Paris. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t find herself still thinking about the man she met there.

Nico. He still occupied a space in her mind, ever since that last kiss they shared as he helped her into the taxi the morning she left. It was hard to let him go even though she knew that it would probably be for the best if she could just forget about him.

“The backstock should last you through the morning. If it doesn’t, Kenneth is coming in at 1. April and I should be back before then but if not, he can run the kitchen until we arrive,” Emma says, finishing off her drink and lifting herself up from the table. “Remember to have Jacob stock the Pain au Chocolate.”

“We’ve got it covered here,” Morgan says, her smile calming Emma’s beating heart. “Just focus on being the coolest pastry chef, impressing all those important people, and bringing in new customers.”

Emma responds with a playful salute before disappearing back into the kitchen. April is waiting for her by the back door, black chefs coat on, the café’s name written in cursive script over her breast. After confirming everything was in the car, they both hop in and start the drive to Newark, New Jersey.

Emma sends a thank you to whatever power there was for making traffic light, the trip not taking nearly as long as Emma had suspected it would. They are soon arriving at the hotel, pulling up to the entrance. After a quick explanation of who they were and why they were there, a few hotel workers come out to assist them as they bring their food into the kitchens.

“I’m going to find the organizer, ask where they want us to set up. Just get everything ready to be assembled and then we will go from there.”

April gives Emma a small nod in acknowledgment, turning her attention to the boxes of food in front of her. Emma leaves her to it, following the signs to the ballroom. She walks through the open doors, finding the room decorated in the red and black – colors that she now knew to be the teams –tables filling the space around a small stage.

On one wall lined with banquet tables, she spies an elegant woman holding a clipboard talking to the hotel staff, who Emma was told were providing the rest of the food. She makes her way over, the conversation hitting her ears, confirming that this was the person she needed to speak to.

Emma stands off to the side, waiting for the discussion to conclude before stepping forward.

“Hello. I’m Emmaline Evans, the co-owner and pastry chef from Crème de la Crème,” she says, holding out one of her tattooed hands.

“Oh, yes!” the woman says, graciously accepting Emma’s handshake. “I’m so glad you made it. My name’s Nicole, I’m one of the people who helped organize this brunch. Are you all settled, everything good?”

“Yes, my sous-chef is in the kitchen right now getting the plates ready. I just wanted to introduce myself and say thank you for the opportunity. It means a lot for our new business.”

“Of course! Though, I should really introduce you to Jess. She is the one that came in telling us about this amazing café in Greenwich that we just had to get,” Nicole explains, her bubbly personality infectious, making a smile break out on Emma’s face.

“I look forward to meeting her. I’ll probably be out once everything is prepared, introduce myself to some of the other guests and check to make sure everything tastes alright.”

“Perfect! I wouldn’t expect anything else from a savvy business woman, neither will any of the guests. A lot of driven people here,” Nicole explains, before turning to face the banquet tables. “We have the traditional breakfast fare here and your table is over there,” she gestures to a table a short distance away. “We decided to keep the sweets a little separate from the rest.”

“Makes perfect sense,” Emma nods, taking the layout into memory. “Would you like us to delay bringing the food out so there is a space between the main course and the dessert?”

“Is that alright for you? I think that would be best.”

“Absolutely.”

“Amazing. You can bring out the food at, let’s say 11:30? We might still be in the middle of speeches and all that but that could work out because after we’ve wrapped up there, we can direct people to your delicious food.”

“Of course. I’ll go back and get everything ready. We’ll be out at 11:30.”

“Perfect. Thank you again!” Nicole exclaims and Emma is about to extend her hand for another handshake until Nicole sweeps her into a hug instead. Emma embraces it politely before pulling away and disappearing back to the kitchen. On the way, she sees the beginning of the crowd trickling in, her eyes glancing over the guests decked out in expensive dresses and suits.

This was a golden opportunity and she wasn’t going to waste it.

She breezes into the kitchen towards the corner where April had completely set up everything in the few minutes she was gone. Emma explains the timeline and they both set to work; April filling the profiteroles with their whipped cream center and Emma assembling the layers of the mille-feuille. April finishes first and sets about arranging the macarons and profiteroles on the platters provided before moving to cut the Fraiser into slices and placing each piece on their separate plate. Emma finishes assembling the mille-feuilles and glances at the clock.

“Alright, we’ve got a few minutes. Finish plating the Fraiser and bring those out first. I’ll take the macarons and profiteroles and then we can both bring out the mille-feuille.”

“Sounds good. Do you need any help with the platters?”

“No, I should be fine,” Emma says, leaning down to pick up the silver tray the macarons were placed on. “We’ve got the labels for everything, correct.”

“Yes, boss. Do you want me to bring those out first or last.”

“Last. We can arrange the table how we see fit and then label the plates instead of having to shuffle everything around.” Emma is about to leave the kitchen before she turns back to April, the platter resting on her shoulder. “You know you don’t have to call me boss.”

“Force of habit,” April laughs, her brown eyes sparkling as she looks up from the Frasier. “You can stop pretending that you don’t like it.”

“Ha-ha,” Emma utters a sarcastic laugh before leaving. She retraces her path to the ballroom, hearing the echo of an amplified voice guiding her steps.

Emma slips in, the tables now filled with guests, their attention turned to the front stage as she sees Nicole as well as few other beautiful women standing by the podium. She registers parts of their speech; happiness for how the season was going, excitement for what was coming, reminder of the charity they were here for, and of course a call for generosity in donating. Emma makes her way around the perimeter of the room, coming to the assigned banquet table before setting the platter down. She moves back catching the eyes of April walking in with the platter of Fraiser and directs her with a nod of her head.

A few trips later, Emma is standing in front of the table, her eyes gazing over the assortment of the food she was proudest of. It looked beautiful, the whites and golds and reds and pinks and browns of the desserts creating a stunning mosaic, each section labeled in the same elegant cursive that graced her chef’s jacket.

“I’m going to go back, clean up the kitchen and get ready for any food we might have to bring back,” she says, looking to April.

“Don’t you want to stay here? You’re the chef after all,” April asks from the other side of the table.

“I plan on making the rounds a little later, get a little more personal interaction. I have no doubt that you’ll make an excellent first impression of our company without me.”

Emma sees her words register in April’s mind, a smile gracing over her features before it shifts to serious, her body lifting to stand a little taller.

“I won’t disappoint you, boss,” April says, her words serious but punctuated with a small wink, causing Emma to playfully roll her eyes. She doesn’t give another response, departing the ballrooms. She is only a few steps out of the door when she hears the final announcement echo from the speakers.

“Now please enjoy some delicious pastries from Crème de la Crème Café.”

Hearing her company name announced along with the applause that followed – although she knew the cheer wasn’t directed towards her – made her heart leap. Everything was perfect so far; all that was left was for the guests to like the food.

Emma cleans, packing the equipment they brought into her car and assembling a few take-away boxes that she hoped she didn’t have to use. She leaves the kitchen, taking a quick stop in the bathroom to wash her hands and adjust her appearance, making sure not a hair was out of place. She takes a few deep breaths, straightening her jacket before moving back into the ballroom.

She takes in the sight of plates filled with her food on tables, the smiles on peoples faces and it makes her relax. Emma catches sight of April still manning the table, her smile never wavering as she hands out desserts, her lips explaining each delicacy. She catches Emma’s eye, sending her a wink before turning her attention back to the guests. Emma lets out a sigh before she gazes around the ballroom.

“Oh, there she is! Emmaline!” she hears a voice call, locating Nicole sitting at a table waving her hand. Emma smiles, weaving through the crowd until she reaches her.

“Everyone, this is Emmaline Evans. She’s the chef that created all these wonderful treats for us!” Nicole explains and Emma smiles, nodding her head to the other guests sitting there.

“How is everything tasting?”

“Delicious!” one of the gentlemen at the table says. “Why haven’t we heard about your restaurant before?”

“We actually opened a year and a half ago so we’re relatively new.”

“Well, you are sure to get some new customers if your food always tastes this good,” he laughs, extending his hand. “Erik.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Emma says, accepting his handshake.

“I can guarantee that the food is always this good,” another feminine voice sounds from across the table. Emma turns her attention to a brunette smiling at her. “Definitely worth the drive to Greenwich.”

“Oh, right! Emmaline, this is Jess. She’s the one that insisted we book your company,” Nicole explains, the words forcing Emma to extend her hand eagerly, Jess accepting it with grace.

“Thank you for the opportunity. It really means a lot to me and my co-owner Morgan, so thank you for taking a chance on us.”

“I knew it wasn’t going to be that much of a risk. I’ve been forcing Nate to drive me to New York on his days off so I can get your food,” Jess says, nudging the shoulder of the man next to her – who Emma can only assume is Nate. “You deserve way more recognition. And, when I heard about a small woman-owned business, I knew I had to give my support. Kind of what we do.”

The other women at the table laugh in agreement, causing another smile to break out on Emma’s face. She politely stays for a few minutes, answering queries about the food provided, the menu at the café, and other general questions. Slowly, her body registers the weight of someone’s eyes on her from across the ballroom. A lull in the conversation allows her to lift her head and look around.

When her eyes land on the source of the stare, her heartbeat falters in her chest.

It had been over sixteen months since she had last seen him but she swears she could recognize those gentle brown eyes and that flowing chestnut hair anywhere.

A few tables away sat Nico; the man that she met in Paris all that time ago. The man who enchanted her from the moment he sat with her at the café table. The man she never thought she would see again.

He was here.

Emma quickly snaps out of her trance, breaking his gaze and turning her attention back to the guests in front of her with a polite smile. But beneath her composure, her thoughts were as erratic as her heartbeat. She steals another glance back in Nico’s direction, finding him in a conversation with the young man next to him, that familiar dimpled smile on his face.

“Apologies,” Emma says, interrupting the conversation taking place around her. “I should greet the other guest, check in on them.”

“Oh, of course! We’ve kept you long enough,” Nicole speaks.

“You should go talk to out team leadership,” the man next to Nicole says – Jesper, she remembered. Emma watches as he twists in his seat, eyes roving over the room before stopping, his long arm pointing to a table. “Over there.”

The directionality of his gesture has Emma’s heart skipping again, the anxiety only heightened when she follows his point to the table where Nico sat.

“That’s our captain, Nico, and our two assistant captains, Jack and Ondrej, along with their partners and a few others,” Jesper says turning back to Emma, who quickly plasters a gracious expression on her face.

“I will make sure to stop there, thank you,” she says before departing, moving only to the table next to the previous.

She was going to keep her word – she just needed a little time.

Emma introduces herself to multiple guests, answering the same questions, and handing out more business cards than she could count. She navigates the ballroom, slowly making her way over to Nico’s table. She swears that every time she moves closer, she can feel Nico’s eyes landing on her more frequently. She manages to focus on the guests in front of her enough that no one suspects anything is amiss. But she knows that the effort is half-hearted at best. The other part of her brain is twisting itself in knots over the prospect of speaking to Nico again.

She never expected to see him. She certainly didn’t expect to see him at a work event. In the fantasies that she allowed herself to occasionally indulge in, they would always run into each other at a bar or in the park or even on the street. In those daydreams, he was single and the magic from Paris would still be there between them.

But now, Emma is forced to make her brain prepare for the possible reality that she was about to walk into: that he was here with an insanely beautiful woman on his arm and the romance in Paris was exactly what she feared it to be – temporary.

It didn’t make it any better that she would have to reckon all of those heartbreaking truths with a pleasant smile on her face; the shield of professionalism she was forced to maintain that could absolutely not crack.

Emma concludes her previous conversation, taking a deep breath before turning towards the table she had been avoiding all afternoon. She walks up to the edge, glancing around the faces of the guests, trying not to let her eyes linger on one face in particular.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she speaks, calling their attention to her. “I’m one of the owners of Crème de la Crème and I just wanted to check in, see how everything was tasting.”

“It’s fucking fantastic!” the dirty blonde next to Nico exclaims, causing Nico’s head to turn with a glare and a hiss of ‘Jack!’. A blush invades his cheeks before the man – Jack – looks back towards Emma. “Sorry, I mean, it’s really, really good.”

Emma laughs gently at his words before speaking.

“It’s alright. I’m glad to hear you like it that much.”

“It really is delicious,” the stunning blonde woman next to Jack speaks. “Is your store located in Newark?”

“No, we’re actually located in Greenwich Village in New York. But this was an amazing opportunity for our business that we just couldn’t pass up.”

“That’s awesome. Do you normally cater?”

“We’re relatively new to the catering side of food service. We do provide food for smaller parties: birthdays, anniversaries, celebrations like that. This has been out biggest event yet so this was also a test for us, to see if we could handle it.”

“Well, I say you passed with flying colors!” the woman smiles. “Could I have your card? My sister would love this and her birthday is coming up.”

“Of course,” Emma says, her hand dipping into her pocket to retrieve a card.

“Actually, could I have two? I might slip one in this guy’s hockey bag as an anniversary reminder,” she laughs, nudging Jack’s shoulder.

“When have I ever not wooed you?” he laughs.

“I’m not saying you haven’t. This is just a subtle hint about what a few delicious macarons might do.”

Emma nods, grasping the two small slips of paper and extending them to her.

“Could I also have one?” an all too familiar accented voice requests.

Emma turns her attention to Nico, her eyes connecting to his. She doesn’t give a verbal response; just another nod of her head. She hands two cards off to Jack’s partner before turning to Nico, holding a business card out to him as well. Emma suppresses a shiver that threatens to run through her body as Nico’s fingers graze against hers as he takes the paper from her hand.

“Planning on surprising a special lady, as well?” Jack teases. The question is innocent when coming from his mouth but it stops Emma’s heart as she waits for the answer – preparing for the worst.

“If by special lady, you mean my mom when she flies in for the mom’s trip, then yes,” Nico jokes back, his eyes flickering back to Emma. “Besides that, no one else comes to mind.”

Emma lets out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding at Nico’s subtle admission; he wasn’t seeing anyone, at least not seriously. The other women at the table were with his teammates, not him.

“Could I ask where you learned how to cook?” another gentleman at the table asks, his voice turning Emma’s attention to him.

“Of course. I went to The French Pastry School in Chicago, which is one of the only schools that focuses exclusively on pastry creation,” Emma explains, her eyes darting towards Nico as she contemplates her next words. “But I was also blessed with the opportunity to travel to Paris and experience the authentic Parisian cuisine first hand. That trip inspired me in many ways.”

From the corner of her eyes, Emma watches as a smile tugs at Nico’s lips.

“I’ve been to Paris as well. It’s a beautiful city with amazing food.”

“Right, you were there a little over a year ago, with the NHL European press tour,” another guest says, providing answers to questions that Emma didn’t bother asking back then. He told her that he was there for work. That wasn’t a lie. She just didn’t know that this was his job.

“It was an amazing trip,” Nico replies, his eyes darting to Emma, the weight behind his words only noticeable by that recognizable sparkle in his irises.

Emma’s own smile graces her features. Their silent conversation reminded Emma of passing secret notes, communicating in a way that only the two of them could understand. The hope soared in her chest but she pushes it down in an effort not to get caught up in the moment. She excuses herself, sneaking one last quick glance over her shoulder at Nico before making her way over to April.

She forces herself to focus on the moment at hand, taking stock of the remaining food, the event dwindling down. Emma helps April carry the remaining leftovers into the kitchen, instructing her to pack up the food and load it into the car before helping the hotel staff clean the few remaining dirty dishes.

Emma makes her way back into the ballroom, gathering the remaining business cards from their table, as well as the labels before helping the staff pick up the plates scattered on the tables.

She is absentmindedly gathering the plastic plates into a stack, reaching out to grab the last plate at the table. But before she can, it is taken by a strong hand before it is extended to her. Emma lifts her eyes to thank whoever it was in front of her but her voice catches when her eyes connect with Nico again.

“So, Paris, huh?” he asks, the question loaded with a myriad of emotions that Emma couldn’t even begin to place. She takes the plate from his hand with a smile.

“Yeah, it was a really wonderful experience.”

“I bet.”

“Ate a lot of good food, saw some beautiful sights,” she continues, a mischievous smirk appearing on her face, her eyes never leaving Nico’s. “Met this really great guy.”

Emma swears that she can see the sigh escape Nico’s chest – the potential fear leaving him as his body relaxes, his tentative smile shifting to match her grin.

“I was worried you didn’t remember me,” he confesses. Emma’s eyes soften at his admission, her head slightly shaking in disbelief.

“Did you really think I’d forget?” she murmurs, her own words just as much of a confession as Nico’s. She watches his brown eyes shift, the confusion dancing within them.

“At the table…”

“I had to remain professional,” she explains, gently cutting him off. “Talking about a whirlwind romance I had with the team captain in front of potential clients – some of which are his teammates – isn’t really the way to get rehired.”

“Good point,” Nico laughs, the sound echoing around the almost abandoned ballroom, his hand lifting to run through his hair. His chuckle pulls a giggle from Emma’s own lips as she shakes her head again.

Their laughter dwindles until the silence covers them again. Emma can’t seem to tear her eyes away from him and it is clear that Nico feels the same. The two of them stand there, taking in the sight of the other, seemingly convincing themselves that they were really standing in front of each other. That this wasn’t just a fantasy.

“In truth,” Emma says, breaking the fragile silence, “You’re hard to get over. No one I’ve met since Paris has even come close.”

The broad smile that appears on his face makes Emma’s happiness increase, the subtle admission that she was also currently unattached understood by Nico.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he tells her, the words bringing a small teasing laugh from Emma.

“Didn’t know you missed me that much,” she jokes.

Her words seem to catch Nico off-guard. Her green eyes follow Nico’s movements as he reaches into the interior pocket of his suit jacket, fishing out his phone. His fingers move, tapping on the screen and scrolling until he pauses. A smile tugs at his lips as he stares at whatever was on his phone before he turns the device towards her.

Emma swears her heart skips for the hundredth time that day as she takes in the image on the screen. It’s the picture they took that night in Paris – the night everything changed. Her eyes dance over the screen, looking at the ease in which her body was resting against Nico’s, the way his arm was wrapped around her frame, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the background.

“You kept it,” she whispers.

“Of course, I did,” Nico responds with just as much tenderness. Her eyes flicker back up to the man in front of her, the look in his eyes an echo of the one from that same night. She watches as he hesitates, seemingly debating the words he was about to say. Whatever doubts he had, they apparently weren’t enough to stop him as he speaks again. “I don’t know if I ever missed anyone as much as I missed you.”

If her heart was beating erratically before, it practically stopped at Nico’s gentle words. The desire, the yearning, the emotions hanging from every syllable hit Emma like a freight train, his need bringing forth her own. A need that she tried – desperately – to get rid of for months because she thought she would never see him again.

But he was here. He was real. And he missed her.

“I missed you too,” she admits, the confession not feeling dangerous or terrifying. Instead, it felt as simple as breathing. It felt as easy as it always did when she was next to him. It felt like Paris.

Emma and Nico look at each other, the truth of their admission floating around them, seemingly enveloping them in that love-struck haze that they existed in months ago. In a different city. In a different country.

“I don’t know if this is way too forward but I’d like to take you on a date. Or, I guess another date. If that’s alright with you?” Nico asks, his words still hesitant. Emma responds with a gentle smile.

“That sounds perfect.”

“I can’t promise that it will be as magical as Paris though,” he laughs.

Emma’s expression falters a little at his words, the fears from Paris returning along with the joy. Their reunion felt enchanting right now but maybe the shock of seeing each other again after all those months was the only thing causing this sensation. Maybe after the moment died, the worry that invaded her mind in Paris would be proven true: that it was just the City of Love that fueled their connection.

Embrace it. All of it.

It is that small voice of bravery and vulnerability that sounds, the declaration echoing in her mind. Emma takes a deep breath, summoning the courage she felt in France and letting it fill her body, letting her heart guide her actions. She reaches out towards Nico, letting her hand creep closer to his, her fingers brushing over his skin.

The energy that surges between them when their fingers intertwine is powerful. Those fireworks sparkle stronger than anything before; stronger than the lights about them, stronger than all the lights on the Eiffel Tower. That electricity has Emma looking up at Nico, seeing the same emotions dancing on his face. That touch was proved a fact that they knew in their hearts to be true but their heads still doubted.

That this – whatever it was, whatever they shared those months ago… it wasn’t temporary. It wasn’t the city. This was real.

“Paris wasn’t the magical part.”

tags: @tkachvkmatthew @m00nlightdelights @cixrosie SIGN UP FOR MY TAGLIST HERE

#nicole writes #the winter fic exchange 2k24 #nico hischier fic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier fluff #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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saintslewis · 1 year

Text

❝ 𝐈’𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

˖ ࣪⭑ - pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!oc

˖ ࣪⭑ - summary: the first meeting. new neighbourhoods bring back old family friends after many years of being apart. dinner at the Hamiltons somehow manages to make new ideas spark.

˖ ࣪⭑ - warnings for this chapter: none

˖ ࣪⭑ - saint’s team radio: omg it’s literally been ten/eleven days since i released the masterlist and i’m only posting the first chapter rn??? sorry about that baes but pls do enjoy the very first chapter of renaissance!!! mwah! Taglist is down below babies 😚 lemme know if you wanna be tagged 💗

masterlist

next chapter

Turning the sounds of Future down just a little bit as she drove into the street of her parents new home, Nadia closed her car window and eyed the grand houses that she drove past in her 8 year old Honda. Sighing, she parked into her parents driveway, seeing both their cars parked outside and decided to park behind her mother's car and watched as the house gate closed shut.

Stuffing her phone into her hoodie pouch and fixing her blonde and pink ombré hair, knowing very well that her mom will find a way to comment on the new colour, she got out of the car and locked it.

The Buckinghamshire sunset was slowly approaching, the wind not too harsh to even lift a couple of hairs but yet the Friday afternoon was quite chilly. Trees were becoming more and more green the more she looked at them and the birds definitely weren't silent. Hearing the front door open with a bit of a creak to it, Nadia's tired smile grew on her face as she saw her mom replicate the same emotion.

"Nads!" Thembi, her mother, expressed as she watched her daughter walk towards her on the pathway to the front door. Thembi definitely had an off day, wearing an ever so colourful sundress with the charm necklace that Nadia's younger cousin made. She carried something small in her hands as she extended her arms to Nadia.

"Hi mom." Nadia tiredly greeted as she leaned into her mother's arms. "2 weeks since I've seen you, nana. How are you?" Thembi said to her daughter, leading Nadia into the house. "I'm tired, there was an extra class I had to take up after school. And just thinking of the grocery shopping I have to do tomorrow just tires me even more." She sighed, looking around the grand home that her stepdad, James, had built for her mom.

Gosh, just thinking of the love that her mom and stepdad share just makes her want to cry. Moving to the Uk was an extremely difficult challenge that Thembi and Nadia had to endure, not sure how they were going to survive with just the two of them but James had met her mom and made the lifelong promise that they would build their life together and they did exactly that although wanting to care for someone as their own after Nadia. In a few days, Nadia's younger cousin would be moving in with her parents for a scholarship she received back in South Africa.

"But enough about me, does Rea need a lift from the airport?" Nadia asked, beelining towards the soft couch in the living room and immediately relaxing onto what feels like clouds. "Yes, I have a meeting the moment she lands and James has to watch over his project. I also gave her some money so maybe you guys can get some ice cream?" Thembi rushed all her words out, walking all over the place looking for something.

"Mom, why are you rushing? What's going on?" Nadia sat up properly from the couch as she watched her mom move frantically.

"Oh we've got a dinner with our neighbours, surprisingly moved from Stevenage with us. Doubt you remember them."Her mom said, hurriedly putting her earrings on in the large hallway mirror and checking her short afro. With a stunned expression in Nadia's face, she looked down at the outfit she had on then looking up at her mother who was all dolled up. "But ma, don't you think I'm underdressed for a dinner?" She asked, unconsciously holding the pouch of her hoodie.

Looking at her daughter once, Thembi shook her head before turning back to the mirror. "Please, these neighbours are super, what's the word you use? chill. We've been friends with them since your primary days." She smiled at Nadia before heading to the base of the staircase. "James! Finish up! Nads arrived so let's go!" Thembi shouted.

"Wait, how long has this been planned?" Nadia looked at her mom confused to which she just smiled at her innocently. "It just slipped my mind two weeks ago, sorry. Now, let's go wait by the front door to make James feel bad for making us wait." Her mom ordered with Nadia following after her, holding her car keys.

"I'll follow you guys there, I'll go home afterwards because I've got too much work waiting for me back home." Nadia informed her mother as she heard footsteps coming from the hallway. "Nadia! It's been too long. How's everything?" James greeted with a huge grin, side hugging his stepdaughter.

"Who knew high school kids would have so much energy when you mention a free lesson?" Nadia said, tilting her head back at the memory of her day and how it drained her. James just smiled and squeezed her shoulder as Thembi opened the front door, leading them to their cars.

Turning into the street at least two minutes away from where her mom and stepdad live, Nadia rolled her eyes at the thought that they could've just walked but knowing how her mom thinks, walking at night even in their neighbourhood was never safe.

Following James' suv through the large black gates, a much grander yet modern home came into the view of her window shield leaving her mesmerised, so much so that she even turned down her music to look at the fairy lights lighting up the driveway to the house. Looking forward, she saw a few cars parked outside of the garage onto the gravel seeing a trend of Mercedes in this household.

Finding a decent parking spot next to her parent's car, she climbed out of the car and fixed her hair once again and clicked her gel nails, trying to hype herself up to be present at the dinner. Hearing quite loud greetings behind her, she shut her car door closed and locked it and walked to the enthusiastic group at the neighbours front door. Two children ran outside as well seeming to be chasing each other with their laughter filling the air.

A gasp came from the woman with the white short hair, walking around what seemed to be her husband with her arms out. "My goodness, Nadia! Is that you? Thembi, you didn't say anything about her beauty!" The woman that she had yet to recognise stood at an arms length with her hands clasped as she examined Nadia with a large smile. Nadia was trying her hardest to remember who exactly this woman was but she put that aside and walked forward to briefly hug the woman.

"Hello." She greeted with a smile, feeling herself go back into her bubble as all the attention was directed at her. "Well, welcome to our new home! Stevenage cannot separate us!" The older man said as he turned to welcome Nadia into the house home as everyone followed in. She immediately recognised the man to be Anthony, a good friend of her parents. Everytime she would see him back in Stevenage, he was always very nice yet reserved. She's very sure that she's seen the older woman before but for the life of her cannot remember.

A much younger woman had turned the corner holding a child's hands and Nadia internally sighed in relief as she realised that she wasn't the only young person attending the dinner. "Oh hello!" She happily greeted Thembi and James, hugging them as they exchanged kind words to each other. The younger woman turned to her with a stunned yet animated expression as she smiled at Nadia.

"Hi I'm Nicola, your parents have told me so many things about you." She introduced herself then her hand pointed towards the kids. "These are my kids, Willow and Milo. Come say hi guys." The children immediately running to her with the boy being a little shy but the girl, Willow, hugged Nadia's leg and looked up at her with the largest smile she's ever seen on someone. "I love your hair!" The girl exclaimed happily, examining the blonde wig with pink ends.

"Come on everyone! The pasta will get cold!" You all heard the older woman from before voice out.

"So Nadia! My goodness, you've grown. I would remember seeing you leave for school back in Stevenage." The woman, who's name was Linda, expressed and looked over to Thembi with a smile. "So do tell, how's everything going with you?" Anthony spoke up after taking a sip of his juice.

Putting down her utensils, Nadia looked over the table to see everyone focused on her. "Well uh where do I begin. After high school, I went to Cambridge for Law but eventually switched to Education for personal reasons. Spent quite the time away from home but i would call and visit when i could. I teach at Preston Manor in Wembley, where i live as well and the past few years have been quite uneventful. I do dabble a bit in fashion from time to time." Nadia spoke, watching as the table took in all the information.

"Mum, Sir uncle loves fashion!" The young boy vocalised to his mom. "Speaking of him, let me find out where he is because we know he's always late for everything." Nicola chuckled as she took her phone to make a call.

"Cambridge? Wow! Now that's something to brag about!" Linda smiled at Nadia, giggling over to her mother who looked proud of her daughter.

Not being able to take compliments as easily as others would, Nadia shyly put her down and glanced at her manicured nails, wanting the conversation to shift from her to anything else. Luckily for her, the attention switched to Nicola walking rather quickly to the front door to welcome someone into the house. Wanting to escape the very cheery welcome of the newcomer, Nadia politely asked to go to the bathroom.

"Why the fuck is this house so big?" She whispered to herself as she dried her hands on the hand towel, exiting the guest bathroom to get back into the dining room. Hearing rather heavy footsteps seemingly walking into her direction, Nadia opted to walk faster to avoid a possibly awkward encounter with anyone at the dinner table even though she's already grown fond of Nicola and her kids.

About to turn the corner, a soft yet musky scent wafted through the air, encircling Nadia's space. What entered her vision were brown air jordans, similar to those some of her students constantly spoke of usually with grief that they were expensive. Lifting her head to look at the individual in front of her, they seemed to slow their tracks.

Setting her eyes on the man in front of her, she tried her level best to not take in his facial features all in one moment. Seeing the tattoos that decorated his arm and hands, the woman grew speechless at the amount he had. Granted she had a few of her one but his were well kept and gorgeous. The graphic shirt he had on sat very well on his body, the perfect fit that is 'oversized' and his shorts showed the athletic build he had. She tried to snap out of it and so did he.

Lewis didn't want to say he was completely entranced by the woman in front of him but this was a face you couldn't get out of your head even if you wanted. Firstly he admired the choice of colour of her hair, seeing how it suited Nadia's face so well. Moving down to her face, her nose piercing was shining under the hallway light and the lipgloss had clearly been freshly coated. The outfit was very chill, the hoodie and cargo pants combo seemed extremely comfortable on her, blanketing her in a way. As if one blink could change everything, Nadia had blinked and turned her head, looking away from him.

"Oh sorry, you can go right through." She said with a small smile on her face as she moved out of the way so he could walk past him. "Thanks.. I'm Lewis." He introduced himself and the equally as small smile was as soft as he seemed. "Nadia, nice to meet you." She responded, blinking rather slowly as she was still as sleepy as she was before. "Likewise." Lewis answered, the small crinkle by his eyes showed that he seemed a bit tired as well but he clearly did not want to show.

With that, they both excluded the conversation with one entering the bathroom with the other heading in the direction of the dining table.

Willow had opted to sit next to Nadia as she piqued the young girl's interest, quite the colourful woman with not much to say. Nadia could not ignore how the child already began to adore her, her heart aching at the thought of possibly not seeing her new best friend that she made. Creating relationships with people other than her family was tough but to see herself become comfortable with neighbours she hadn't seen in years was odd. Willow's attention clearly went somewhere else as Nadia was in her thoughts, the man from before taking the child's seat. "Hey, that was my seat!" The young girl pouted at Lewis. "Yeah, that was my homegirl's seat." Nadia jokingly said as well, looking at his amused face.

"Sir uncle, you can sit on the couches." Willow ordered as she had a staring contest with her uncle. "But that's so far?" He had giggled, completely amusing Nadia who was watching the whole interaction. "Exactly." Willow sassed, making Nadia laugh.

A small gasp came from Linda's lips as she and the others had been watching the cute scene in front of them as everyone was getting ready for dessert. "Thembi, would you look at how precious this is." The older woman gushed, eyes focused on Nadia playing with Willow as Milo and now joined the scene, Lewis and Nadia having a conversation (mainly Lewis being curious on the hoodie and earrings).

"Are we sure about what we're going to do?" Anthony looked at Nicola with her nodding her head. "I feel like it's going to work. These rumours have been off the charts these past few weeks." Rightfully as his half-sister, she was worried about her brother. Everything seemed to be hurdled at Lewis, all types of untrue things and his pr team were working hard but had not found a solution or anything to put good attention to the driver. Reaching out to the family, Nicola, Anthony and Nadia's parents had managed to come up with something, unsure of whether it would work or not.

"You guys have been huddled up together for a while now, is everything okay?" Nadia spoke up, suspiciously looking at the group. "We're discussing the true crime shows that I've recommended to them." Thembi lied straight through her teeth, surprised that Nadia bought it. All she did was nod her head and continued playing with Willow, finding Lewis a very interesting person and someone she could definitely be friends with.

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @folkloresthings @flowerchild-96 @userlando @lorarri @thisismeracing @thatsdemko @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen

dividers by: @cafekitsune

faceclaim for nadia: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

all pictures from pinterest and ig!

#☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen #x black reader #x black fem reader #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x black reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x black!reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x oc #f1 x you #formula one x black reader

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dira333 · 5 months

Text

Want to love you - Akaashi x Reader

requested by @ur-local-simp , tagging @luvring because I'm legally obligated to do so when it's about Akaashi

The letters aren't even necessary. Akaashi lives down the street, if you want to talk to him you can waddle up to his front door, knock and ask for him to play with you.

But you like letters, the crinkling sound they make, how they smell - yes, you may have overused your mom's perfume, but this is important! - or the fact that you can keep them, a literal moment of a moment shared.

Your school doesn't offer a penpal program. But Akaashi's there to help you out. If you write him, he'll write you back.

You don't go to the same school, so there's always something to write about. Sometimes you even write them together, words hidden from view by a hand held up, until it's time to fold them up and hand them over.

Years pass. Some of your letters travel greater distances. A postcard from the beach, a letter from the countryside, a two-day trip to Korea with your parents.

Akaashi's not one to travel. At least not physically. He reads a lot. Some of his letters are memories of the stories he's moved through and what moved him about them. Some - those are read more often - are his own stories, his ideas brought to paper, brought to life.

He's good at it. He doesn't think so, though.

But this is life. Akaashi who overthinks, who doubts and tries to make sure that nothing ever fails and you, who just jumps ahead, believing and trusting that everything will turn out alright.

But there's still one thing where you cannot risk it. Love.

Because what if you don't love him enough?

Tomorrow you're going to leave for your six-month internship. It's your dream job and yet so far away. Korea is only a short flight away but you've never been separated from Akaashi for so long.

What if he forgets you? What if you forget him? What if all these nights of dreaming of being with him don't measure up to the real world?

And it's late, you should get the sleep you'll definitely need tomorrow, but you just can't fall asleep. Your friends have said goodbye, your things are packed, you can hear your parents snoring through the thin walls, but you're still up, twirling a pen in your hands as you think... and think... and start to write.

Dear Akaashi

Beloved

Keiji,

I love you. Have always loved you. And I don't know if I will, don't know if I should, but I'm pretty sure I'll always want to love you.

You're the best friend anyone could wish for. The love of your life should be the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and I can't remember the last time I wanted to spend a day apart.

I'm scared Keiji.

You stop, wipe away the tear that has fallen on the paper. Your hand shakes as you pen down the last few lines.

I'll be back. Braver. Different. Still in love with you.

Wait for me?

-x-

"Oh, Keiji, your friend was here." His mother greets him at the door. "She said she had to catch her flight, but she forgot to give this to you."

He's not surprised to be handed an envelope. Hundreds of those are up in his room, tied together by strings, only to be opened when he feels at his lowest.

He's almost determined to read it later when he's able to breathe a bit lighter, when the reality of your departure has sunken in.

But he can't wait, rips the envelope open with shaking fingers. Something in him urges him to do so even as his mother stands and watches, mumbling something about dinner being ready in a minute.

The paper sails to the floor as he understands and he almost keels over as he catches it before it lands.

"Everything okay?" His mother asks. Behind him there's a knock on the door, the unmistakable voice of his best friend. "Kaashi? Do you wanna come train with me for a bit?"

"I need to get to the airport," he bursts out, almost forgetting his jacket on the way out. "Bokuto, we need to go. What's the fastest way to the airport?"

He's too late.

He knows it. Even Bokuto knows it, though he still urges him on. They race to the Check-In Line and Bokuto jumps up and down trying to spot you in the crowd. He's almost ready to scream your name, even breathless as he is when Bokuto grabs his shoulder, pointing at the thick glass walls separating them from the other side.

"There!" He says and Akaashi nods. He can see it too.

His hands shake as he types your number, feeling more than just a little dumb he didn't think of it sooner.

You pick up after the first ring just like he thought you would. He can see you checking your phone after all.

"Akaashi?"

"Keiji," he chokes out. "You need to call me Keiji. Like in your later."

You make a small sound in the back of your throat and he chokes too.

"I can see you," he points out, feeling every bit the lunatic that he is. "Turn around. Can you see us waving?"

And they must be a spectacle, Bokuto in his team colors and he in his sweater vest combo, waving like maniacs until you notice them in the crowd.

"I want to love you too," he says when you wave back, seemingly unable to speak. "For the rest of our lives. I didn't think-"

"I'm coming back," you sob and he can see you walk against the stream of people. Your face disappears in the crowd.

"No," he argues. "No, you need to do this. You need to go. This is your dream job."

"But-"

"I love you," he breathes out and it's suddenly easy. Because this is you and this is him. There's nothing difficult about this.

"And we can make this work. It's just six months."

"But what if it doesn't work out?" You ask and he turns to look at his best friend.

"Bokuto," he asks, "What did you tell me during the Nationals of your third year? Do you remember?"

"Oh!" Bokuto beams and leans in to tell you: "It's not impossible. It's just hard."

"And with you," Akaashi adds, "It's easy."

#my writing #haikyuu!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji

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bitchinbarzal · 1 year

Text

Forever my girl | Jamie Drysdale: One

summary: when the news hits, Jamie has to go home

first few chapters are gonna be short!

Jamie just got done playing three back to back games, ended up at the club now he’s got a blonde in his bed he doesn’t know the name of.

The tv was still on from last night, he doesn’t like having to listen to them talk to him when he’s just trying to get laid.

The news was playing and through his sleep covered eyes he saw something familiar, his hockey rink. His home hockey rink.

He reached over the girl and grabbed the remote, turning it up.

“Last night around 11:35 locals witnessed the car flip after sliding on the ice after colliding with a drunk driver, The driver was pronounced dead at the scene. The driver, Ryan was from port hope known to locals as just simply hope, they will hold a vigil tomorrow for the deceased”

He watched the picture on the screen, Ryan, his best friend. Dead.

Jamie moved himself out of the bed to pick up his phone, googling the news for more information.

Then he called the team

“I gotta take a few days off”

“Jamie, what we’re literally in the run up to the playoffs you can’t just leave”

“I’ve got some stuff to deal with at home, I’ll be back in a week” He snapped “Listen… I have to go, I’m not asking I’m telling you”

Then he slipped out the room, leaving the girl alone in the bed with a couple hundred dollar bills on the nightstand with a note ‘for an uber’

The whole time he was in the airport, he was ignoring the phone calls and text messages from personnel and teammates asking him if he’d lost his mind and that he had to come back to Anaheim.

You were getting Billie ready for the vigil “Do I gots to wear this dress, mama?”

“Yes, uncle Ry loved this dress on you babygirl”

She sighs “I miss him”

And you smile softly and kiss her nose “we’re all gonna miss him sweetpea, now let’s go or we’ll be late”

She nods and holds your hand, squeezing it

“C’mon let’s go”

You were still running late, regardless of trying to get there on time. You only had enough time to park the car before pulling Billie out and running to the church.

“C’mon now and your remember when we get in there you give- oh!” Turning into the stairs of the church you stumbled over someone sitting on the stairs.

You stood back “I’m so sor-“

Your words failed you as you made eye contact with him. Neither of you said anything, you just pushed Billie “C’mon”

Inside the church, you sat by Charlie, frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head before you said “Jamie’s here”

“What?”

“Jamie… he’s outside”

You saw the way Charlie held onto Billie’s arm, almost subconsciously his way of protecting his niece from his brother.

After a lot of tears and shared stories of who Ryan was, you were leaving the church listening to Billie tell you how much she loved him.

You saw Jamie sitting on the bench on the other side of the garden.

“Can you take Billie?” You ask Charlie who nods and says “Y/N you don’t have to-“

You were already half way across the front lawn by then, Jamie stood up now waiting for you to come over

“Hey y/n-“ his sentence was cut off by your hand slapping him across the face.

“You shouldn’t be here, Drysdale”

hi jamie. it’s me, y/n

I’m calling, again. you haven’t called me back yet but I’ve got something really important to tell you so please I’m begging you to just call me back. please. I love you, whatever has happened we can work through it together I promise you that whatever you have to say won’t shock you half as much as what I’ve got to say.

#forever my girl au #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader

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joeliz99 · 16 days

Text

Crossed Paths- Joseph Quinn

Description: Joe's stressful day at LAX takes an unexpected turn when he reaches out to (Y/N), a flight attendant, but most importantly, the girl he has been in love with for so long.

Warnings: None, RPF Fic

Word Count: 2434 (A long one!)

————————————————————————

Joe was going through a particularly rough day. He had been at the Los Angeles airport for hours, desperately trying to find a flight to London. With cancellations, fully booked flights, and limited options, it was looking increasingly unlikely that he’d make it in time to be with his family for the birth of his godchild. His frustration was palpable, a gnawing sense of urgency mingling with helplessness.

In a moment of desperation, he pulled out his phone and hesitated before typing a message to (Y/N), the woman he’d been trying so hard to forget over the past month after their last interaction.

Joseph Q.

“Hey (Y/N),”

The message felt strange and awkward as he tapped away, but he pressed on.

“Sorry to text you out of the blue, but I think I might need your help.”

“Is there any way you can help me get a flight to London? Ashley’s labor started a bit earlier than expected, and I’ve been stuck at LAX for hours with no luck finding a flight.”

“I’m really sorry to bother you with this, but you’re my last resort.”

Meanwhile, (Y/N) was in the middle of a private flight to her next destination, fully absorbed in her responsibilities. It took nearly two hours before she could check her phone. Seeing Joe’s name pop up made her heart skip a beat, but she quickly set her emotions aside and decided to respond setting her feelings aside.

(Y/N) ✈️🖤

“Hey,”

“I’m on a flight right now, but once I land, I’ll see what I can do to help. I’ll let you know once I have news.”

Joe’s sigh of relief was almost audible as he read her reply. His fingers fumbled a bit as he typed his thanks.

Joseph Q.

“Thank you so much. We’ll be in touch.”

As soon as (Y/N) landed, she dove into the post-flight procedures with a sense of urgency. With only an hour before her next flight, she made her way to the airline’s ticketing desk. Despite her efforts to expedite the process, the options were grim; no flights available for several hours. Frustrated but undeterred, she moved to a VIP lounge and began making calls, hoping for a miracle.

After about fifteen minutes, her persistence paid off. An operator managed to secure a seat for Joe the following day at noon. As soon as she had the details, she shot Joe a message requesting his passport number and payment information. The minutes felt like hours as she awaited his response, but soon enough, Joe’s details arrived. Moments later, she was on the phone with him.

“I got you the flight,” she said, navigating her way to her next gate. “It’s private and at noon tomorrow, but at least you’ll get there.”

Joe’s smile was wide, the tension melting away from his shoulders.

“You’re literally the best. You don’t know how much this means to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“No worries. I know how important it is for you to be there with your family. Listen, I have to go, but I’d suggest you go back to where you’re staying, take a shower, eat something, and get a bit of rest. There are quite a couple hours left before your flight. Make the most of them.”

“Yeah… Yeah, for sure, I’ll do that. I’m going to let you go now, okay? I know you’re still working. I’m sorry and once again, thank you so much.”

“Okay, Joe, I got it,” (Y/N) laughed softly, the warmth in her voice evident. “Take care.”

She hung up and quickly transitioned to boarding her own flight. Meanwhile, Joe grabbed his suitcase and backpack and called an Uber to head back to his apartment. Despite his exhaustion, his mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and lingering thoughts about these last months events. That night, sleep came reluctantly, interrupted by worries about missing out such an important moment with the people he loved and the memory of that last conversation he had with (Y/N). Suddenly, his mind transported him all over again to that late afternoon of the 8th of January.

A warm sun cast glow stood over the park as Joe and (Y/N) settled onto a bench after Joe ditched an event he had been invited to. They’d both decided it was worth stealing a couple hours for them to spend time together before (Y/N) needed to leave for work again. The conversation flowed easily at first, punctuated by comfortable laughter and complicity. Yet, beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of tension that neither of them could ignore after some of the last situations that had been occurring.

(Y/N) shifted nervously, her fingers tracing the patterns on her coffee cup. “Joe, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” she began, her voice tinged with hesitation.

Joe looked at her with a mix of curiosity and concern. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this.. I mean, us.” she said, struggling to find the right words. “I just don’t see how our lives can really be together in any way beyond what we have now. I mean, we’re in such different places, and it feels like we’re trying so hard to fit puzzle pieces together that are never going to be meant for each other…”

The words hung heavily in the air, and Joe’s heart sank. He had feared this moment but hearing it out loud made it feel more real than ever.

“You think we can’t make this work?” Joe asked, his voice barely masking the pain he felt. “I can’t accept that. Not after everything we’ve been through, not after all the time we’ve spent together. I don’t want to see you as just a friend. I can’t.”

Joe’s heart dropped at her words. He leaned forward, his voice cracking slightly. “I can’t accept that, (Y/N). We’ve built something real here, something worth fighting for. This can’t be over before we’ve even had a real chance…”

(Y/N) looked away, her own heart feeling like it was about to explode. “Joe, I care about you more than you know, but sometimes that just isn’t enough… You know I’ve tried. But our realities just seem too far apart. I don’t want us to get hurt. It’s just not real.”

The park grew quiet around them as the sun began to set, leaving the two of them in a silence heavy with unspoken words. Joe was mad. It wasn’t fair to him to be denied the one person he wanted most. He felt frustrated and helpless, knowing that even though she faced her own grueling work demands, he their own needs and desires were being overshadowed by the reality of his status in society and of the amount of pressure that came with that. The world seemed to stand still for a moment, and Joe’s voice broke through the quiet with a final, resolute statement.

“If we’re not willing to fight for this, then what’s the point of all the effort we’ve put in?” Joe’s voice trembled with conviction. “I’m not willing to just settle, (Y/N). I refuse to let everything we’ve shared be for nothing.”

But he did settle. He let it go, and the weight of that decision still felt like a crushing blow, one of the deepest regrets he’d ever harbored. The echo of his own words haunted him as he lay in bed, wrestling with the sting of lost possibilities and unspoken promises. Despite his restless mind, he managed only a few fitful hours of sleep before his alarm jolted him awake. He hurriedly prepared for the day, his movements automatic. Once he reached the airport, the check-in and security process went smoothly. He slumped into his designated area, waiting for his flight to depart in three hours. An hour into his wait, Joe’s phone buzzed with a new message, interrupting his music.

(Y/N) ✈️🖤

“Are you still at the gate?”

Joe paused the music and leaned forward, eager to respond.

Joseph Q.

“Yeah. Still got an hour of waiting left.”

(Y/N) ✈️🖤

“Have you eaten anything?”

Confused, he quickly replied with a no.

(Y/N) ✈️🖤

“Okay. Remind me of your gate number.”

Joe’s heart raced as he read the message. He sent his gate number and then scanned the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of (Y/N). Just as he was about to give up, he saw her approaching, her suitcase in tow and a few items in hand, and he couldn’t help but smile. He stood up and waved, trying to make his presence known.

They met in the middle of the bustling terminal. (Y/N) greeted him with a warm smile, and Joe took some of her bags, their hands brushing briefly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, though he was already half expecting the answer.

“I work here,” she said, raising an eyebrow, causing Joe to chuckle.

“I mean here as in literally here… Like right in front of me.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged with a hint of playfulness. “I figured you hadn’t eaten with all the nerves, so I wanted to make sure you had something in your stomach. You have a long flight ahead of you.”

Joe shook his head, a smile spreading across his face.

“You making this so hard for me, you know? Doing all these things when you don’t have to… I don’t even know what to thank you.”

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s just how I am…” She glanced away, then looked back at him. “I’m supposed to be done for the day. I could stay a bit while you wait for your flight if you want some company.”

“Oh, hell yes. Come on,” he said, already pulling her suitcase. “Let’s find a spot to sit.”

They found a quieter corner of the terminal, a small oasis amidst the chaos. (Y/N) pulled out a coffee she’d picked up for herself and took a sip, her eyes softening as she watched Joe. He was hunched over a sandwich, his exhaustion evident but still somehow striking.

“So…” Joe ventured, his attempt at casual conversation tinged with nervous energy. “How have you been?”

(Y/N) flashed him a warm smile, her gaze lingering just a bit longer than usual. “I’m good. Just the usual grind. How about you?”

“I’ve been well,” Joe said, his tone casual but his fidgeting betraying him. “I’m wrapped up in a project for the next few months. Back in LA soon, though. You know how it is—work.” He hesitated, glancing at his coffee cup as if it might offer some solace. “It’s been a while, and I…”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh softly, a sound filled with affection. “You’re really nervous, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” Joe asked, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly failing. “I guess I didn’t know how things would go after we hadn’t talked for a while.”

(Y/N) leaned in slightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Chill out, Joe. We’re just catching up. It’s not a performance.”

Joe chuckled, looking both relieved and sheepish. “I guess I’m a bit rusty at this whole ‘casual conversation’ thing.”

“Oh, come on,” (Y/N) teased, her grin widening. “You’re an actor! If you can handle dramatic monologues and intense scenes, surely you can handle a simple chat with me.”

Joe raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “True. But I’ve always had a weakness for certain people. I turn into a bit of a mess when I’m around you. You know that, right?”

(Y/N) playfully rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. “Well, that’s good to know. At least I can still make you nervous. It’s nice to have that kind of power, don’t you think?”

Joe’s smile softened, and for a moment, the weight of their complicated past seemed to lift, leaving behind a shared sense of ease and familiarity.

After chatting and sharing a few laughs, Joe glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time for him to head to his private flight area.

“Well, I guess it’s time for me to go,” Joe said, looking a bit reluctant. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

(Y/N) stood up, smiling softly. “I’ll walk you to your gate. It’s the least I can do after all the trouble you’ve been through.”

Joe smiled gratefully. “I’d like that.”

They walked together through the bustling terminal, heading towards the private flight area. The conversation remained light, filled with easy laughter and casual comments about the absurdities of airport life.

As they reached the entrance to the private flight lounge, Joe stopped and turned to (Y/N), his expression a mix of gratitude and something else—something deeper.

“Well,” he said, his voice softening, “I guess this is where we part ways for now.”

(Y/N) nodded, her eyes meeting his. “Yeah. It’s been really nice catching up. And, uh, good luck with everything.”

Joe hesitated for a moment, then took a step closer, his gaze lingering on her lips. “You too. I hope everything goes smoothly for you.”

There was a brief silence as they both seemed to hesitate, unsure of the next move. Finally, Joe gently cupped (Y/N)’s face with his hands, his touch tender but uncertain.

(Y/N) looked up at him, her heart racing. “Joe…”

He leaned in slowly, and (Y/N) met him halfway. Their lips brushed in a soft, lingering kiss—hesitant but filled with a quiet, shared longing. It was brief, but it held the weight of their unspoken feelings.

When they finally pulled away, both were a little breathless, their eyes still locked.

“I should go,” Joe said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) replied, her voice equally soft. “I’ll see you around.”

Joe gave her one last, heartfelt smile before turning to enter the private flight area. (Y/N) watched him go, her heart aching with a mix of warmth and sadness. She took a deep breath, turning to walk away with a sense of bittersweet contentment.

As Joe disappeared into the private lounge, he glanced back one last time, catching (Y/N)’s gaze. He gave her a small, appreciative nod before disappearing behind the door.

(Y/N) stood there for a moment longer, then turned and walked away, her heart full of a quiet hope and the lingering echo of their tender farewell.

#joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fandom #joseph quinn edit #eric a quiet place day one #eddie munson #joseph quinn rpf

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daisygirlwrites · 2 years

Text

Car Rides

Summary: An old memory of Simon’s resurfaces during a car ride to Crash’s house.

Warnings: none

Pairing(s): Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 1,025

Note: No uses of (Y/N), some angst but it’s barely there.

a/n: hello hello! back with another fic :) ngl this one made me kind of sad but still enjoyable to write. I have a set of headcanons that I wrote along with this fic but i decided that I’ll put it into the next post instead :0c !! anyways, i hope y’all like it and would love to hear feedback!

“Keys.” He demanded.

Quickly, you pull your hand back, the other coming up to shield it. The man in front of you narrows his eyes but puts his hands back into his hoodie pocket. You open your hand, revealing a set of keys, along with a lego Darth Vader keychain. Flipping over the key fob, your black Jeep Wrangler makes the distinct sound of itself unlocking. “After you, LT.”

He opens the back passenger seat to set down his duffle bag before moving to the front. While he does that, you get yourself onto the driver's seat and start the vehicle. You check your surroundings before backing out of the parking spot and after a series of turns, you two are on the road, exiting the airport.

“Apologies about earlier, Simon,” you say, after a couple minutes of silence. “I know you want to drive but love this car way too much. Don’t want to crash it, ya know.” He glares at you as you let out an airy chuckle.

“And what do you mean by that, Sergeant?”

“Remember Las Almas? How you slammed on the breaks so fuckin’ hard that I almost went through the window, for the second time? Or that time in Moscow, where you proceeded to hit every curb you saw and we got pulled over?” You glance at him. He stares back at you, offended. And even with a facemask, it’s evident that he’s scowling at you.

Looking back at the road, you lightly elbow his arm. “Don’t worry, LT. You’re great at a lot of things.” You pause, weighing out the option of whether or not to push his buttons more before saying, “Just not driving. Or piloting. Like last month, with the helico-”

“That’ll do!” Simon raises his voice.

Palms on the steering wheel, you open your hands as a signal of surrender. “I’m just jesting, Simon.” You give him a half-hearted smile. He sinks down into his seat, with his arms crossed.

45 minutes passed and the only sound you hear are the cars on the road. Simon looks out of the window, taking sight of the buildings rushing by. In the distance, he can see the large mountain range.

The whole team was given a month of leave after the last mission went up in flames. Literally, burning helicopters and all. While the guys usually went back to the UK, you had invited them to your mountain home in Colorado. Ghost initially declined but after you and Soap begged on your knees, he reluctantly agreed. And now he regrets it after you made fun of his driving skills. But at least it was just you and not the rest of the team. Actually, he’s grateful that they’re flying in tomorrow. Didn’t want to handle three idiots in a car.

“I got a CD folder in the glove box,” You break the silence. “It’s your pick too. Long drives are better with music.”

Simon gives you a nod and begins flipping through the case. He recognizes most of the albums, and taking a closer look, some of the art on them are flaking off.

“Never thought you’d still have CDs this old,” he comments.

“Half of them are my grandpa’s. I’m just adding on to it.”

He hums in response. Spotting a maroon colored disk, he rotates it, reading ‘Queen: Greatest Hits’. Carefully pulling it out of its pocket, he hands it to you. Left hand on the wheel, you stick your finger in the middle and glance at it. Nodding, you slide it into the car player.

“Good choice.”

“Brits have good music.”

“I agree with that.”

Flicking your eyes down to the display screen, you skip the first eight tracks. Without looking, you can tell that Simon is giving you a disapproving look. “We’ll come back to it, promise. Just want to listen to this first.”

He turns his eyes back on the road before him, the first couple notes of ‘You’re My Best Friend’ playing out. They’re in the mountains now, the roads becoming more twisty. Slowly down a bit on the turns, you let the windows down a couple inches. He hears you quietly sing along with the song. Rolling his eyes, Simon leans back on his seat again. Again, looking out the window, enjoying the greenery. It reminds him of the long drives to his aunt's house. Green blurs of evergreen trees passing by. Turning his head to look at you, his heart picks up the pace.

He doesn’t see you. Instead, it was a woman in her early thirties. The driver window slightly opened, leaving her light brown hair flying behind her ears. Hands tapping on the steering wheel on beat with the music. Hazel eyes meeting his. There were bags under them, dark circles hidden by makeup. She smiles at him, little wrinkles appearing on the corner of her eyes, along with two dimples, one of each side of her smile. Just like his. Opening her mouth, she sings along with the song,

“Ooh, you make me live Whenever this world is cruel to me I got you to help me forgive Ooh, you make me live now, honey Ooh, you make me live.”

His mom stops singing. “Simon!” she calls out. “Come on, love. Sing with your ma!”

He’s too stunned to say anything, he just stares at her. “Simon?” Her smile drops, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Simon?” Her voice sounds muffled.

“Simon?!” It’s like echoes now.

“Lieutenant Riley?!” That one snapped him out.

Heart beating like a drum, he opens his eyes, staring at the bottom of his hoodie before looking back up. It’s just you, Crash, his sergeant. Not his mother. But the worried look you give him is identical to hers.

You give him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to wake you up LT.” His eyebrows go up with confusion, he didn’t know he was even sleeping. “We’re here.”

Simon steps out of the jeep, closing the door behind him. Taking a look of his surroundings, he glances up at the towering evergreen trees, just like the ones in his childhood. Just like the ones at home.

#daisygirlwrites #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley

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cameronspecial · 1 year

Text

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 4)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Under Age Drinking, and Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Everyone in her life is finally back on the island and she finally has her date with Wilson. But what happens when things don’t go to plan and she starts questioning her feelings.

A/N: This was way longer than I though it was going to end up being because it was honestly supposed to just be a filler chapter but I honeslty just couldn’t stop myself.

Masterlist

Y/N and Wilson had been texting for a week before he finally asked her on a date for tomorrow night. She isn’t sure what he has planned, but he said the dress code is formal so maybe they are going to a fancy dinner. Not exactly her favourite idea, she could live with it though. Lacey returned back to the Outer Banks yesterday, so Y/N is going over to her house to cook brunch together. Even though Y/N and Mason picked Lacey up from the airport, the girls need some quality time together. Well, Lacey would do most of the cooking while Y/N snacks under the guise of quality testing and making smoothies for them.

“I’m here,” Y/N sings as she waves the bag of smoothie mix she brought. Knocking is no longer in her vocabulary in regard to her best friend. “I missed you so much, Bitch! The men in Paris may be hot. But they got nothing on being with you,” Lacey screams as she blindsides Y/N with a hug. Y/N laughs and wraps her arms around the other girl, “I missed you too. But I literally saw you yesterday, babe.” “Yeah, but we spent so long a part for my month-long summer internship,” Lacey complains, “Let’s get cooking. Mama is hungry.”

Y/N moves toward the blender to begin mixing the smoothie blend. “So a little birdie told me that you and Rafe are actually starting to get along with each other,” Lacey teases her friend.

“Yeah… He’s been acting like a totally different person lately. The teasing is mostly just verbal and he can actually be helpful.”

“Awwww, Y/N/N. It sounds like you have a crush on him. Should I start planning a wedding?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Plus, I met someone last weekend.”

“Ohh, tell me about him.”

“Well, he’s sweet, funny, likes to read, he really likes doc-”

Lacey interrupts her, “I don’t want those details. Show me a picture.” Y/N giggles and pulls up a picture on her phone to show her friend. Lacey also notices how similar Rafe and Wilson are but bites her tongue.

“He’s totally cute, but he looks like he has a stick up his ass.”

“LACE! He does not! Although, he doesn’t use contractions and goes to sleep at like 11 P.M., but I promise he is funny.”

“Okay, but how is the sex?”

"We haven’t gone on a date yet. We have our first date planned for tomorrow night.”

Before the conversation could continue, the oven timer goes off and Lacey goes to take out the chocolate chip scones from the oven. “So what are the plans for tomorrow? Do you need help getting ready?” Y/N nods her head, “Yeah, could you help me curl my hair, please? He said to wear something fancy so I was thinking of wearing that black dress that I wore to my cousin’s wedding last year. You know the long one with a spaghetti strap kind of style.” “Ooh, you’d look so cute in that. I can definitely curl your hair. Maybe, I can braid it back like a little crown on your head,” Lacey gushes as she stirs the omelet in the pan. Y/N smiles at the girl and starts playing some music on her phone.

Brunch is finished quickly and the girls settle in the breakfast nook to eat. “So let’s get back to the topic of Rafe Cameron because we both know you haven’t told me everything, bitch,” Lacey bugs with a shove of Y/N’s shoulder with hers. The slight blush on Y/N’s cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by Lacey. “There isn’t much to say. I mean…” Y/N stops not wanting to admit what she felt last week after having lunch with Rafe, Mason, and Wilson. “Girl, you better continue or else I’m gonna make you cook for us next time,” Lacey warns as she knows where her friend is going. “Fine, last week, after I had lunch with the boys and Wilson, I thought maybe… Maybe Rafe and I were going to kiss.” Lacey beams with excitement at this revelation. “No way! What happened?” “Kie and I jumped into the pool to sink the guys and… when it was just Rafe and me, he teased me about always getting him wet. He took my hand and we got closer, but I got a text from Wilson before it went any further,” Y/N wouldn’t admit it but even she could hear the slight disappointment in her voice.

“You totally should’ve let him kiss you!”

“No, it was a mistake for us to even have gotten that close. He may be sweet today, but it doesn’t mean I can just forget about him being a jackass. Plus, he is Mace’s best friend. It would be awkward.”

“That’s true, but I’ve always thought there was something between you and Rafe. And I think if you guys really like each other, Mace will accept that and be happy for you.”

“Maybe. Let’s not talk about this anymore. I have a date with someone else tomorrow anyways.”

———

“So how many parties did you throw and drag your sister to, Mason?” Cassie questions while she sits in her newly claimed passenger seat. Mason groans, “I was only able to convince her to let me throw one and even that was cut short. Not that it was your fault Y/N/N.” Mr. And Mrs. Y/L/N didn’t mind their children throwing parties as long as the police didn’t show up, everyone had a designated driver and nothing was broken. They’d rather be realistic about their children’s activities and ensure they do it safely.

“Why? What happened?” Marvin looks up at his twins through the back mirror. “Owen was being an asshole when I went out to the gazebo. Rafe and Mace found me before anything serious could happen. Although I did punch him for insulting them, so I might need your help untangling that web.” Marvin shakes his head with a light chuckle, “Like that knucklehead’s lawyers can beat the Y/L/Ns. I swear that idiot’s parents were just as bad as he was when I was in high school.” “How was Bali?” Mason asks. “Amazing. You guys would love the beaches, we’ll have to go back with you guys sometime,” Cassie gushes to her children. “That’s a great idea, my love. Just, kids, remind me to put sunscreen on. I fell asleep on the first day when your mom was at pilates, I woke up three hours later as red as a lobster,” Marvin chimes in. This causes the whole car to laugh.

———

Y/N is getting ready for her date with Wilson. She does her makeup while Lacey lightly curls her hair and braids the front pieces back to create a crown. “Has he given you any hints about where you are going?” Lacey inquires, returning to sit in the bed after finishing Y/N’s hair. Y/N pauses with her makeup sponge in hand and turns towards her, “Nope. If it’s just dinner, it should be fine.”

“It’s basic though. You hate those types of dates. You need more excitement.”

“Yeah, but at least it’s not like dumpster diving.”

“I mean he could still do that. Maybe he just wanted it to be fancy.”

“Oh my god, could you imagine?”

Both girls fall into hysterics at the notion, which catches the attention of a certain boy passing by the open door. Rafe pauses as he walks past the door and upon hearing the laughter, stops. He wants to go inside to investigate the reason behind it. He quickly starts to walk again toward Mason’s room, “Where are Y/N and Lace going?” “Oh, they aren’t going anywhere. Lace is just helping Y/N/N get ready for a date with Wilson. Can you believe she actually wants to go out with him?” Mason states without so much as looking away from the video game he is playing. “A date? Really?!” “Yeah. Now, dude, hop in before I get creamed by these guys.” Rafe does as he is told but he could not stop thinking about what Mason said. Y/N has been on dates before, but something about Wilson screams bad news for Rafe. All of Y/N’s other dates were obviously not serious about her. They just liked the novelty of dating a Y/L/N and were not into dating men. Wilson seemed too serious at lunch to want to date around like the other boys Y/N has dated.

“I have to go, my dad wants to go to the country club for dinner. Bye, love you.” Rafe hears Lacey say from down the hall. The sound of her footsteps and the front door opening prompts him to say, “I actually forgot to get some snacks while I was downstairs. I’m going to go get some now.” “Okay, dude.”

Rafe makes his way to Y/N’s room and leans up against her door frame to watch as she looks at herself in the mirror. “Well, don’t you look like a disaster, Y/L/N,” Rafe teases. “Haha, very funny. But seriously. Does this dress look okay?” Y/N asks timidly. Rafe wanted to say that it doesn’t just so that she would take more time looking for something else to wear and miss the date, but the look of uncertainty on her face makes him forgo that tactic. He also wanted to be honest with her; the truth is the dress she wore wouldn’t be the dress he’d want to see her in if he took her on the date. “While you looked amazing in that dress at your cousin’s wedding, I think this dress would be much better,” he answers as he walks towards her clothes and takes out her long black dress with a column skirt and halter top. He had seen her wear it last year to her dad’s 45th birthday bash. Rafe remembers having some inappropriate thoughts about the dress for a family event. Y/N nods at the suggestion and goes to try the new dress on in the bathroom.

She comes out with a smile on her face and does a little twirl for him, “Rafe, this is perfect. Thank you!” She gives him a hug, which he returns. He was correct; she looks like an absolute vision and it kills him that he isn’t the one taking her on the date. That he was honest with her and now Wilson will get to see her in Rafe’s favourite dress for a date. Although, Rafe wouldn’t take her anywhere fancy on their first date. He knows it would make her nervous if he did, so he would take her to the bookstore first and buy any book she so much as glances at. Then he’d bring her over to his house to bake some cookies for their dessert after dinner, which would be a picnic on the beach at sunset. He would make sure to bring a sweater and an extra blanket for when the night breeze sent goosebumps up her arm. He has to shake himself out of his daydream before he stares too long, “No problem. Have fun on your date. Be safe and I’ll probably see you when you get back because I’m too lazy to go back home.” Rafe makes a quick exit back towards her brother’s room.

Y/N notices the upset look on his face and assumes it is because of the thought of his father being home, the most likely reason why he is sleeping at her house again for the fifth night in a row. At this point, he might as well just move into their guest bedroom. Everyone in the Outer Banks knew that Ward Cameron had a favourite child and her name was Sarah Cameron. This caused Rafe to constantly try to get Ward’s approval so he could feel the same paternal love his middle sibling got, but no matter what he did it still led to arguments between the father-son duo. It didn’t matter that Rafe had continuously dominated the breaststroke events in swimming, he still wasn’t good enough in the eyes of Ward Cameron. She would be wrong though; the reason why he is upset this time is the fact that she is going on a date. Before she knew it, a knock was at the door and she heard her father answer the door.

She walks towards the landing overlooking the front entrance. “Hello, I am Wilson Porter and I will be taking Y/N out on this fine evening. I hope you are in accordance with this idea, Mister …,” Wilson greets while holding out his hand for her father to shake. She realizes she still hasn’t told Wilson her last name yet. Her father takes Wilson’s hands and shakes it, “Hey, it’s Mr. Y/L/N. And I am fine with you taking her on a date as long as you have her home by one.” Y/N hopes Wilson doesn’t make the connection to her mom. Y/L/N is a common last name. “Of course, Mr. Y/L/N. punctuality is my specialty. Ah, there is the woman of the hour. She looks radiant.” Y/N is surprised she doesn’t blush at Wilson’s compliment; she could’ve sworn she was on fire when Rafe was raving about how she looked, “Thanks, Wilson. Are you ready to go?” “I absolutely am. Right, this way,” Wilson leads Y/N towards his car and goes to the driver's side. She thought he would open the door for her, but when he doesn’t, she quickly scrambles to get in so it isn’t awkward.

———

The car ride was filled with pleasant conversation. Wilson mostly talked about Cassie’s books, which doesn’t surprise Y/N considering she knows he wants to become a writer as well and some of her mother’s earlier works are his favourite books. They arrive at La Fleur Bleue, an expensive French restaurant. She isn’t thrilled to be here considering the portion sizes are so small. They enter the restaurant and are led to their table. They look at the menu, when Wilson speaks up, “Do you think I could order for us? I think I have you figured out and can pick you something you love.” “Sure, I’m not too sure what I want to get anyways.” “Great,” Wilson waves the waiter over to order, “Hello, we are both going to have the quiche loraine with a bottle of champagne, please.” The waiter nods, takes their menu and goes off to put their order into the kitchen. “How did you get them to not check our id?” Y/N is astounded at the strings he could pull or hopes she isn’t dating someone who is 21 without her knowing. “My dad is a silent partner here, so they generally look the other way as long as the restaurant isn’t busy,” Wilson explains.

At least, she knows he isn’t dating her for her money. While waiting for the food to come out, Wilson starts up the conversation again, “So have you had the chance to read The Wisp of Forever? Is it not a literary masterpiece? I mean hardly say this but Conan Austin’s work could rival Cassie’s”

“No, I haven’t had the chance yet because my tbr is so long. But also, it doesn’t really seem to be my type of book.”

“You should stop filling your time with Book’s Instagram and Young Adult Fiction. It’s all nonsense you will grow out of and look back on with disgust. The books I read help fill you with knowledge and enlightenment. They are also realistic.”

“Well, I like YA and Bookstagram. I actually enjoy the books I read from there. Also, it’s nice to read about people going through similar issues as me,” she says as nicely as she can. She is used to this response from most adults in the Outer Banks community, so she has the response memorized. Before Wilson could retort, the waiter comes back with their food and champagne on a tray. The first thing she notices is how tiny her quiche is. It definitely will not be enough food for her, but she doesn’t want to complain about it because of how expensive the food is. Even though her parents have generational wealth, Cassie and Marvin raised their children to be cautious of pricing and that just because they have the money now, doesn’t mean that it can’t disappear with one bad decision. She’ll just make grilled cheese when she gets home. As she eats, she notices she is shivering. The AC is on so high right now. With nothing to cover herself with, she tries to continue eating.

Dinner went and passed with pleasant conversations about themselves. “Would you guys like to look at the dessert menu?” The waiter offers after clearing their plates. Y/N is about to speak up, but Wilson beats her to it, “No, we actually have somewhere else to be, so just the check, please.” The waiter returns with a check and places it on the table between the pair. Wilson pushes the bill close to Y/N. She isn’t one to expect the man to pay for the first date every single time, but she thinks that whoever asks the person out and chooses what to do should pay for the date. Or at least split the bill. She doesn’t want to make a scene, so she pays the bill without a word. Maybe, he just wants to reverse the unfair expectations of men always paying, which she could get on board with. Wilson gets up in a hurry and makes his way toward the entrance, leaving Y/N to run after him. He opens the door for himself and walks through. This causes the door to shut in her face. Y/N awkwardly opens the door for herself and gets into Wilson’s car.

“So where are we going to now?” Y/N asks to break the silence. “We are going to a showing of Hamlet at Kildare Theatre. I hear it is an amazing performance.” Y/N is a little disappointed at the notion. She has nothing against Shakespeare and actually enjoys reading his comedies, but she finds watching the actually plays boring and can’t remember the last time she could stay awake through one of them. “Oh, cool. Sounds fun.” They arrive at the theatre house and settle down into their seats. As she watches the play, she has to gently pinch herself every time she nods off to keep herself awake. By the time the play finishes, Wilson takes her home and she gives him a peck goodbye before going inside.

———

She enters her home and looks at the grandfather clock in the front entrance to see it is 12 A.M. At this realization, she notices how her stomach grumbles. She goes to change into Rafe’s Led Zepplin shirt and comfy shorts. She puts her hair up into a messy bun then makes her way downstairs to make a grilled cheese. “Did you have fun on your date, Y/L/N?” she hears from behind her while she is turned toward the counter wall. She jumps out of surprise, “God, Rafe. We need to tie a bell around your neck. And to answer your question. Yes, I did have fun.” She lied because although he planned a pretty boring date, she didn’t mind Wilson’s company. Rafe is wearing his light gray zip-up swim sweater on top of his salmon t-shirt with basketball shorts. His hair is all messy, he probably just woke up. She wishes she could just reach up and run her fingers through his hair. “I smell lies. If you had a good time, then why are you here making a grilled cheese in the dead of the night?” Rafe points out. “Even if the portion sizes are small, I can still have fun on a date, Rafe,” She argues. “Whatever you say, Y/L/N,” Rafe comes over and takes the pan out of her hand, “Come on, let’s go to McDonald’s instead.”

He takes her hand and gently guides her to where he keeps his keys at the front entrance so he can pick them up. Once he has his keys, she opens the front door for them to head to his car. He jogs ahead and opens the passenger door for her. She whispers her thanks and takes the hand he offers her to help her get up into the high jeep. Wilson didn’t open the car door for her.

Most of the car ride was spent making fun of Mason and singing along to Rafe’s playlist. She notices most of the songs are her favourites. When they get to McDonald’s, Rafe is quick to help her out of the car and open the entrance door for her. She has to admit it is nice to not have a door slam in her face. They pick a seat near the back close to the window and Y/N tries to get up to go with Rafe to order, but he stops her, “I’ve got this, Y/L/N. Just stay here.” Y/N listens to what he says and watches as he orders the food. She’ll have to remember to pay him back on the way home. A few minutes later, he returns with the food, “Ten piece chicken nuggets with fries and Sprite for you. And a BigMac with fries and a coke for me. I’ll get our ice cream after we finish,” he recites as he places her food in front of her.

“Thanks, this is honestly exactly what I need.”

“No problem. Couldn't have you go hungry. So where did you guys go?”

“He took me to La Fleur Bleue, then we watched Hamlet at Kildare Theatre.”

Rafe chuckles at the look of slight disappointment he saw in her eyes, “I swear that place has the smallest portion sizes. It’s where Rose likes to eat when she wants to diet. However, you must’ve loved the play. You always looked so cozy taking those naps whenever we go to one for school.”

“Oh, it was so fun. I think I still have an imprint on my arm from every time I pinched my skin to wake myself up,” Y/N jokes back, showing him her arm to further the joke. The belly laugh that Rafe lets out causes heat to reach Y/N’s cheeks. She likes making him laugh like that. “I’m going to go get the ice cream now.” Rafe gets up and walks back to the counter to order. Y/N once again notices a chill overcome her tonight and sees how her arms are covered in goosebumps. She should’ve grabbed a sweater before she left.

Rafe makes his way back to Y/N, noticing the bumps on her arms. Either she always forgets to bring sweaters with her or she is stubborn enough to not wear one to not disturb her aesthetic. He places the ice cream on the table; quick to remove his sweater for her. He hands over the sweater to her without saying anything. How come Rafe noticed she was cold and Wilson didn’t? She takes it and shrugs it on, “Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” Rafe watches as Y/N happily takes a bite out of the Oreo flurry he bought her, “Why don’t you eat any other flavours other than Oreo? Even when we get Dairy Queen, it is always an Oreo blizzard.” She is shocked he pays enough attention to her to notice it, “Oreos remind me of the one time when we were little that you, Mason and I would get along. Our moms would always bring us Oreos after soccer practice. It was the one time we could share without trying to kill each other. I loved the cookie part and you loved the filling, so I would always let you eat the filling from my Oreo and vice versa.”

Rafe is a tad saddened by the mention of his mother; however, the fact that one of her favourite ice cream flavours is in relation to a memory of him makes him glad. “I didn’t know you remembered that. I have to confess though, after like the second time of us doing that I was sick of eating just the cream filling. The only reason why I kept eating the filling is because you were always so sad about wasting the filling if you didn’t eat it,” he confesses. “No way! Rafe, you didn’t have to do that.” “It’s okay. It made me sick, but my mom would cuddle me after to make me feel better so it was a bonus.” At the mention of his mother again, a comfortable silence washes over the pair. If she was with Wilson, she’d probably feel the need to fill the silence in a way that would prove her intelligence. They finish eating and head back to the car.

“How should I pay you back? Do you want me to e-transfer you or I could get you the cash when we get back home?” She offers, pulling out her phone in preparation to make the transfer. “What? You don’t need to pay me back, Y/L/N. I asked you to come out with me, so I pay.” It looks like Y/N and Rafe are on the same page about who should pay when going out. Y/N begins to protest; however, Rafe speaks up again before she could, “I’m serious, Y/L/N. I won’t accept anything you try to give me, so don’t even try.” Y/N nods and looks out the window of the car. She turns up the car radio, beginning to sing along to the music. Rafe glances over at her and starts to sing with her. Much like their drive to McDonald’s, it is filled with laughter and music. Y/N can’t help but wonder why she can’t feel this way when she is with Wilson. She is dating Wilson and is supposed to hate Rafe, but why are they making it so hard to feel the right way about each one of them?

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

#thorn in my side rose in my hand #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron series #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you

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lilyinavalley · 26 days

Text

Tropical promise 🪷

Sylus x reader Fiction for the Misty Invasion fan art contest 4,248 words

Ao3

CHAPTER I

A call, a message, a letter, also a gift, Sylus used a lot of ways to lure me, usually it was for an auction, sometimes he needed a partner to rely on in tricky “deals”, or maybe, he just wanted to spend some time with me in places thousands of kilometers far from the city.

It was almost the end of summer when I finally managed to get two weeks off, being a hunter was a really fulfilling job, but as a lowly human being I really needed a pause, and also a change of air, so as soon as I decided the destination, I booked everything in advance.

When the last day of work ended I said hello to my fellow hunter colleagues and I sprinted home, excitement was literally expanding from my body, like an aura of some sort. As soon as I crossed the threshold of the house I rushed to the bedroom, opened my wardrobe and started to pull out suitable clothes for the trip. With a sundress in hand I was looking at myself in the mirror when I heard the doorbell ring.

I wasn’t expecting anyone nor did I order anything, so I had no idea of who it could have been… or maybe I did…

I laid the dress on the bed and jogged until I was in front of the door; I asked who it was but I didn’t receive any answer, so I tried to look through the door peephole and I could only see the empty hallway and my neighbor’s closed door.

“What the hell is going on now?” I whispered in an annoyed tone.

Too curious to leave, I cautiously opened the door, only to find a long black package with a red ribbon laying on the mat, some nail scratches on the top…

“Those really look like something a certain crow would leave, is he a courier now? Hah” I sneered.

With no more hesitation I took the package and put it on the coffee table of the living room, I untied the bow, opened the lid and then I saw “... a machete?”.

The large knife blade was immaculate, shiny and sharpened to perfection, the black sturdy handle was carved with golden sinuous lines, they reminded me of climbing ivy, little rubies adorning it like flowers. As for the material, I really had no idea, I liked weapons, but I wasn’t that passionate about it.

Without wasting any more time I called the real weapon freak.

After only two rings a familiar deep voice came out of my phone.

“Good evening sweetie, I was anxiously waiting for your call”

“Yeah, of course… So Sylus, what is the meaning behind this extremely well crafted and fancy piece of knife?”

“Why do you always think I have ulterior motives? Maybe it’s just a gift, it’s not the first time I gifted you a weapon”; after a short pause he continued.

“You are not wrong this time though… Are you sure you checked all the contents of the box?”.

I furrowed my brows and immediately removed the velvet support of the machete from the box; laying on the bottom there was a handwritten sheet of paper, it just said:

<< 7.30 - Linkon city’s international airport → Manaus international airport

10 days trip - tropical weather, bring suitable clothing

I will think of the rest, we will also use our private jet

-Sylus >>

After reading that a long silence descended, the expression on my face was unreadable.

“Sylus”

“You don’t sound enthusiastic at all, is there something wrong?”. It was almost unperceivable, but you could see a hint of doubt in his words.

“I was literally packing for the trip I planned weeks ago, I have the plane tomorrow morning and I have paid everything else in advance!”

“Oh I see, it’s not a problem, I’ll refund you, give me the accommodation contacts and I’ll take care of everything…” I interrupted him immediately.

“Wait wait wait, hold your tongue, I didn’t say I was okay with this, did I? I was waiting to go and relax on the beach since summer started, you know, laying on a beach lounger with a cocktail in hand, sunbathing, swimming a bit, taking a walk on the shore when it’s not too hot… those kind of things”

“It sounds extremely boring, did you really want to spend two weeks living like a granny?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I need right now”

Sylus continued with a softer voice.

“Did you not enjoy our last outings? In ten days we can do a lot of things, the little gift I gave you will be used, of course, but I don’t want to spoil anything. The choice is yours sweetie, either way I’ll be waiting for you, you already know where to find me.” And the call ended.

I remained still for a minute.

“Who do I want to deceive, there wasn’t a day when I didn’t enjoy my time with you”.

I sighed.

“I guess I’ll have to make some calls” I finally said with a soft smile and a resigned expression.

After changing some of the clothing I already packed, I had dinner and went to sleep.

The day after, I woke up early and went to the airport with a taxi, as soon as I got out of the vehicle I saw currents of people going in and out of the building, in the middle of them there were lovers and families reuniting, it was a literal chaos, it resembled a raging river whose billows crushed against the rock surfacing from the bottom. A messy entangle of feelings.

Suitcase in hand, I went through the crowd, their emotions reached the person they longed to, mine were still in the middle of their search, eyes looking everywhere for him, heart too.

But it didn’t take long, maybe his feelings were searching for me too; in all his imposing height, he was leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, his silver hair adorning his sharp features, crimson eyes scanning the crowd. The people that were passing by couldn’t help but feel intimidated, even if he wasn’t doing anything in particular, his presence emptied the area around him; if the entrance was an impetuous river, the crowd just inside the airport could be described as a compact school of fish that swam madly in a circle, them staying on the circumference and a shark in the center.

As I looked at him in the distance I tried to guess what was going on in his head, what he felt by being avoided like this, was he lonely, pained even?

Suddenly I felt my chest aching, it was like a needle slowly penetrating the tissues of my beating organ; following this new sensation, my hand reached the skin right above my heart, and it vibrated with the rhythm of its pulsations.

I sped up my pace, gaze locked on his stony face, I got closer and closer and the moment he saw me I could see the sudden change of his expression. It happened so fast that if I wasn’t staring at him so intently I would’ve missed it. The pupils of his eyes expanded, eating the red sea in which they were immersed, his eyelids softened and his lips that were previously pouting, raised and opened a little, giving a glimpse of his smile, but nothing more.

When I was just one step away from him, he moved from the pillar and stood completely straight.

With his new height I inclined my head a little higher.

“Were you so sure I would have come?”

He curved his back so that our eyes were on the same level, with his palm facing upwards he gently lifted my hand toward his lips and gave my fingers a single feather light kiss.

“I wasn’t… Sometimes the outcome overweights the risks”

Sylus said while never leaving nor my hand nor my bewitched gaze.

Escaping the trance I suddenly found myself in, I regained possession of my hand and swiftly moved my fingers that were previously embraced by his to his ear, my index finger traced its outline from the helix, then descended slowly to the lobule. Never leaving his crimson eyes I got close to his face, lips barely touching his cheek, hot steady breath tickling his skin; getting even closer, I whispered to his ear.

“Say the truth, you just can’t be without me anymore, can’t you?”

A light scoff reached one of my eardrums.

“Your presence here tells me you are in the same situation though”

My lips curved in a complacent smile and so did his.

He lifted a strand of my hair and gave it a final kiss. After that the tension was broken and our little bubble popped. He stood up.

“Follow me”.

He led me to the by then already familiar jet and we departed.

Machete kept on the bottom of my suitcase, fortunately we didn’t have to pass through the security…

CHAPTER II

The flight seemed to be endless, but I really couldn’t complain at all. In the jet we were the only passengers present, excluding the pilot and the two hostesses that attended to our every caprice.

When we arrived it was already evening, the sky was strangely clear, stars so bright they looked like diamonds; my eyes were inevitably attracted by the pure beauty of its immensity.

Apparently I stayed in a daze a little too long, because Sylus flicked me on my forehead.

“Are you planning to turn into a statue?” he said with his usual ironic tone.

Maybe because of tiredness, or maybe because I was distracted by the night sky, I spoke with sincerity.

“We are nothing but tiny spots in the immensity of the universe, it’s quite terrifying isn’t it?”

Sylus remained strangely quiet, so I continued.

“Even if it’s so scary and mysterious I can’t help but feel this attraction, I wonder why? Is it the charm of the unknown?”

After I asked the last question I moved my gaze towards Sylus and I stared intently in his crimson orbs.

His expression was very peculiar, almost indecipherable, I could distinguish only a tiny shadow of sorrow; but it lasted only for a moment, a sprout of weakness nipped in the bud.

He immediately returned to his usual demeanor.

“I don’t think it’s terrifying, it just makes you understand how little and powerless you are when you are faced by fate”

Without giving me the time to answer, he took my hand and started to walk towards a luxurious car that was parked close to the jet.

“Let’s go sweetie, or you won’t get enough rest for tomorrow”

So I got into the passenger seat and Sylus started the engine, not after long, the exhaustion and the sleepiness took over and I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up the morning after in an unfamiliar room, loud noises coming from the open window, a gentle breeze that moved the curtains reached my now well rested body, as my brain started to slowly gain its self awareness, I got up from the bed I was resting on and reached the source of the gentle morning wind.

With the hands on the window ledge I leaned a bit outside.

Right under my room there was a street bustling with life, children playing football on the corner, stalls that sold all kinds of things, from fruit to strange handicrafts, on the sides of the road I could also see many street performers, some played odd shaped guitars, others were doing magic tricks and so on. The festive atmosphere and the happiness coming from the people below enveloped my heart, finally I really felt on holiday.

The sound of a door opening startled me from that joyous bliss, I turned around and found no other than my travel companion, with sunglasses, a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts on. It was an unusual sight to behold, as he usually wore those dark and imposing clothes, kindred to the role he held in the infamous N109 zone.

With just three strides he was already in front of me.

“Good morning kitten, did you sleep well?”

With the back of his index finger he traced the outline of my face.

“Yes I did, thank you for taking me here, I blacked out as soon as I got into the car”

“No problem, get ready, today’s going to be a busy day… Oh also, bring along my little gift”

And he got out as fast as he entered.

By then I was already fully awake so I got ready really fast. After going to the bathroom and getting dressed, I packed my adventure backpack and secured in the “little gift” Sylus gave me. Fully ready I got out of the room and I found him already waiting for me.

“Took you long enough sweetie, let’s go eat something in the stalls nearby, otherwise you’re not gonna make it with an empty belly”

He said while gently pinching my tummy.

“Yeah yeah let’s go then” and I rushed out of the hotel.

All kinds of exotic smells reached my nostrils, sweet, salty, spicy even, the warmth of the sun embraced my figure, but I didn’t really know where to go; suddenly I felt something on my head, apparently Sylus put on me a white straw hat.

“Take my hand or the crowd will separate us”

So I put one hand in his and the other held the hat steady on my head, scared of losing it in the general chaos.

His large body strode forward, the only thing I could see was his broad back. Thanks to him paving the path in front of us, we arrived at the food stall in no time.

The booth had all kinds of sweets in display, cakes, biscuits and also what appeared to be muffins. Sylus exchanged some words with the smiling middle aged seller, then she put two pieces of everything in a small tray and gave it to him while waving goodbye.

“Aren’t you gonna pay for it?”

“She’s an acquaintance, I helped her with something a long time ago. She really wanted to exchange the favor, even if she didn’t need to”.

“You have connections all around the world huh”

He took a little square shaped cake and brought it to my mouth.

“Try it”

I took a bite and a delicate coconut flavor imbued my mouth.

“It’s amazing, give me something else”

Sylus looked at me tenderly and gave me the entire tray, we sat on a bench nearby and together we finished all the food.

With the belly finally full I leaned on the backrest, the man next to me had his legs crossed and was looking at me intently with a sly smile.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“Yes, actually you have a bit of sugar powder on your cheek”

Without giving me time to wipe it off, he removed the stain with his thumb, and then licked his finger clean while looking me in the eyes.

“That was smooth Sylus” With an almost invisible red tinge on my cheeks and a playful smile I looked away.

He laughed a little and I jumped up with energy.

“Soo, where are you taking me today?”

“We are going on a little adventure in the rainforest, are you up with it?”

“Well…” I put on a thoughtful expression “It would be a first for me. Is it going to be just the two of us? Don’t we need a guide?”

“I’m the only guide we need sweetie, trust me”

He stood up, put on his fancy sunglasses and started walking towards a narrow road that led off the main street, I followed him straight behind.

At the end of the dark alley there was a bright and spacious parking lot, it was really full, probably because of the high number of tourists of the period. Families and groups of friends were taking their luggage out of their cars, some kids were crying because they couldn’t wait to play in the resorts, others were silently waiting for their parents to finish. In the midst of all that, there was us.

“There are a lot of families here”

I said while taking his hand, a bit surprised by my initiative Sylus was startled for a second. He knew all about my childhood, his though, was still a mystery, the only thing I knew was that he didn’t have a good one either. Whenever I inquired about his past, a dark veil would descend on his expression, and most of the time, in the end, I wouldn’t get anything relevant out of him.

He squeezed my hand in return.

“Yes, there’s the summer break in schools”

A faint sense of anguish started to hover around my heart, not too strong, but also not weak enough to not reach my eyes. They say the eyes are the mirror of the soul, and that must be true, because as soon as that gloomy feeling occupied my mind he patted my head.

“Don’t worry, our future little ones won’t suffer the same fate as us”.

And every negative feeling faded away.

“What are you talking about!” I gave his arm a little nudge and laughed the tension away.

“Here we are, this is what will accompany us on our little adventure”

In front of me a brand new black cross-country vehicle, and also a proud man leaning on its hood.

I raised my eyebrows and took off my backpack to put it in the backseats.

“Let’s not waste any more time then”.

CHAPTER III

The road to the rainforest wasn’t long nor boring.

When we departed Sylus turned on the radio and we did a bit of karaoke together, so his singing alone made the trip hilarious.

After just 15 minutes every human trace disappeared from the scenery, only tropical plants and trees on the view. From the rolled down car window the wind ruffled my hair and the air that filled my lungs was cleaner than ever, the remoteness of the city could already be felt.

Not too long after, we reached our destination, Sylus parked the car in a plain grassy area and we hopped off the vehicle.

“Are we just going in?” I said while looking at the block of leaves in front of us.

“Yes, but we’re here for a reason, around this area there’s a place I want to show you”.

After saying this he swiftly removed the machete in my backpack and walked towards the tropical plants leaves.

“Wait a second!” I stopped his swing by holding his shirt. “Should I be particularly careful about certain dangerous animals? Like snakes, felines …” I got interrupted immediately.

“You are a hunter sweetie, and I have a pretty useful long distance Evol… are you maybe scared?” He said while sneering.

“You know what, nevermind, you’re right, let’s go”

So the man before me cleared the area in front of us with rapid machete swings, and in no time we were immersed in the rainforest.

We could hear animal sound coming from afar, and every now and then we could hear the rustling of leaves of the vegetation near us, probably little mammals or amphibians were the cause; even so, all this disturbances didn’t make Sylus hesitate for a second, he was really focused on finding the way to the place he wanted to take me.

While going on and on the environment started to become more and more wild, the humidity seemed to rise at every step and sweat covered every inch of my body.

“Hey, how long until we arrive? You didn’t stop for a second and I’m all sweaty here”

The man stopped his movements and turned around. His face was also covered in salty droplets and his silvery strands were stuck to his forehead.

“You stopped me on time, the destination is right behind this wall of lianas, I’ll give you the honor”

And he gave me the machete.

Curiosity took the better of me and with some swings I quickly opened the path ahead.

What appeared before my eyes was in complete opposition to the landscape seen until that moment, there was a large circular body of water, a little waterfall on the far end and colorful parrots flying.

Utter awe was displayed on my face.

“How did you find this place?”

“A man has its secrets… and another pair of eyes”

Mephisto cawed from the sky and descended on Sylus’ shoulder.

After giving him a little scratch on the head, the black mechanical bird flew on one of the tree branches where the parrots were resting, the tropical animals were weirded out by him, but instead of flying away, they stayed to study him.

While I was distracted looking at the birds I heard a rustling noise extremely close to me, so I turned around and I found Sylus with only his underwear on.

“Sylus, what the hell are you doing?” I screamed, I was shocked by the sudden view.

“I’m going for a swim, I’m too sweaty and hot, strip off and come with me”

“Are you serious? Isn’t it extremely dangerous, there might be alligators on the bottom!”

I said while being genuinely worried about the possible dangers lurking in the water.

“Don’t worry, there is no longer a single harmful thing in this pond, I wiped it clean”

So I looked intently at the surface of the water, and only then I noticed the thin black fog hovering over the entire area.

“Oh, I see”

Without waiting for me the man had already soaked his legs, the water reached his knees.

“Okay, okay I’m coming, wait for me!”

I quickly removed my clothes and I remained in my underwear too. I slowly dipped my feet in the crystal clear water. Sylus said the truth, no living being could be seen, nor on the surface nor on the bottom, only rocks and algae tickled my feet soles.

Seeing the man with his back facing me a few steps ahead, suddenly gave rise to a naughty urge within my body; so after taking a little jog to give the push, I jumped on top of Sylus.

The surprise attack succeeded, and together we fell completely into the deep water.

Air bubbles and distorted colors took over my view; after the bubbles disappeared on the surface I could clearly see Sylus pouty expression in front of my face, happy to have pulled a prank on him I started to smile. Probably softened by my expression he got closer and pulled me in his arms, my hands squeezed his shoulders for stability.

And in this position we floated to the surface.

Water dripped down from our hair to our shoulders and it returned where it belonged to.

Our chests were glued to each other, we were at the same level, the Archimedes’ principle helping the cause.

Sylus’ hand slowly moved from my back to my under tight, leaving goosebumps all over the path they traced.

Our hearts were beating together, with every second that passed the pulses increased in frequency in a beautiful crescendo.

And at last, our eyes interlocked, his fiery rubies were burning, his flame bore into my orbs and burned every inch of my soul.

I moved one hand from his shoulder to his cheek and with my thumb I caressed his cheekbone with circular movements.

The affectionate nature of this gesture made his passion subside, now only vulnerability and tenderness transpired from his eyes.

“Sylus, I want to tell you something, but please, don’t say anything until I’m finished”

I said resolutely while still caressing him gently.

He looked at me and gave me a look of tacit consent.

“I don’t know anything about your past, but I just wanted you to know this”

The vision I had when I retrieved the aether core still vivid in my head, pain and sufferance plunged my heart, there was so much blood that I couldn’t even distinguish where the ground started; in front of me a creature similar to a demon, a sword stuck in its chest, the handle in my hand and an inhuman one holding mine in place.

“It doesn’t matter what happened in the past, the causes of the scars that lie invisible on your body…” I traced the line that divided his pectorals with the hand that was still resting on his shoulder “and what you really are”.

“Even if you say that in the past you were a monster scarier than a wanderer, I accept you. My heart always seeks yours, and I decided to trust it”.

“Even if fate is against you?” Sylus said in a melancholic tone.

“Even if fate is against me”

The passion in his eyes reignited its flame, but this time instead of being burnt I decided to match his heat, so I took the initiative.

I captured his lips in a sweet but steady kiss, I didn’t want him to take the upper hand, not this time. This exchange was my seal to our promise. And Sylus accepted it with vigor.

The shadow of our intertwined limbs was trembling in the uneven surface of the body of water, but remained whole nonetheless.

A lot was still unsaid between us, but for the first time, in that little paradise far from everybody, our hearts finally found each other.

End

#love and deepspace #sylus x mc #l&ds sylus #LoveandDeepspaceShowerCard2 #fluff #summer #sylus

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter Ten]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.9k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: Okay I didn't intend to get this written and edited so fast, but here it is. Please do not expect chapter 11 so soon because I know it won't be ready by tomorrow. BUT I hope y'all enjoy this one and I expect y'all will be screaming about something when you're done with it.... Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky

Leaning against the kitchen table, your two packed bags of luggage sat at your feet. Your eyes were focused out of the window, waiting for the car you’d called to come bring you to Dublin Airport. It wasn’t even that long ago that you’d left that very same airport to come here, moving into your sister’s house. It certainly hadn’t taken you long to fuck this all up. This was the shortest stay you’d had anywhere, not even making it two whole weeks before you’d had to run.

Megan had no idea what was going on, either. You’d gotten up when she did early this morning to her surprise. You’d wanted to have a coffee with her one last time. Spend every last minute you could with her before she’d inevitably had to get ready and leave for her shift at the hospital. She’d left about a half an hour ago and you had called the car shortly after.

Eventually you spotted the black sedan rolling to a stop in the street just before Megan’s driveway. You sucked in a deep breath, holding it a moment before you sharply blew it out. Pushing off of the table, you turned and grabbed the handles of both of your bags. You dragged them both behind you as you made your way over to the front door, pausing to eye the house one last time. You could feel something clawing in your chest, begging you to stay, to send that car away, but you shoved it deep down.

You were doing this to keep everyone safe. There was no other way.

You unlocked the door, pulling it open and setting your bags just outside of it. The driver of the car stepped out, calling out a greeting to you. You sent him a wave and a tight smile before you closed Megan’s front door, locking it and hiding the key under a potted plant just beside it. Grabbing the handles of your luggage, you dragged them down the paved driveway towards the car. You wondered if Birdy was somewhere in her house right now, watching you with some sort of triumphant smile on her face.

“Beautiful day today, isn’ it?” the driver said as you neared.

It was a fucking awful day, actually.

Forcing another polite smile onto your face, you simply nodded. You pulled the bags around the front of the car, making your way to the trunk. The driver stepped towards you though, the movement causing you to pause.

“I can get those for ya, if ya’d like, miss?” he offered.

“It’s fine,” you answered. “Thank you, though.”

“Ahh, American, are ya?” he asked, his eyes lighting up at the realization.

“Yeah,” you replied.

You began dragging your luggage to the trunk, stepping aside as the driver hurried over to open it for you.

“Were ya just here on holiday then?” he asked.

You knew he was only trying to make polite conversation, but you truly were not in the mood to talk. All you wanted was to get this flight over with, settle into that little cottage in that small English town, and maybe get incredibly drunk on some wine to forget about literally everything.

“Something like that,” you muttered.

You bent down and picked up your first bag, hefting it up and into the trunk. Taking a moment, you situated it in the small space so that you’d have room for the second bag.

“Are ya sure ya don’t need some help?” the driver pressed again.

You paused, shooting him a look over your shoulder. “I’m going to be honest with you,” you began, tone flat. “I’m having a shitty day and I’m not really a chatter. I’m quite content to toss my own shit into the trunk of your car and have a quiet ride to the airport. Unless, of course, you want to watch me cry or scream? Because mentally that’s about where I’m at right now.”

The man stood there, his mouth gaping open at your words as he stared back at you. After the shock of your bluntness wore off, he quickly nodded.

“S-sorry,” he muttered.

You shrugged. “Just being honest,” you replied.

He gestured back towards the front of the car. “I’ll uh, I’ll just be waitin’ in the car then, when you’re ready,” he said.

You sent him a tense smile. “That’d be great, thanks.”

The driver scurried off and you turned, bending down to pick up your second bag. You felt a little bad for your rudeness, but really, you didn’t think you could take the entire duration of this ride listening to him prattle on about the sun shining this morning and wonderful holiday memories. With a grunt you managed to get the second bag in, but it didn’t fully fit quite right. Groaning, you realized you’d need to take a minute to adjust both of the bags to fit into the smaller trunk of this car. Vaguely you were aware of the sound of a car pulling up a little ways behind you, but you were too busy fighting to maneuver both of your damn pieces of luggage around in the trunk to pay any attention. Not until you heard your name.

“Grace?”

Your hands instantly stopped what they were doing, your eyes going wide at the familiar deep Irish accented voice behind you.

But that wasn’t possible because he was at the Garda station after having been arrested last night. He shouldn’t have been out.

“Grace what–are ya leavin' ?”

Your mouth felt like it had gone dry. This isn’t how you planned things to go. He wasn’t supposed to have been here for this.

Slowly you spun around, turning to face Michael behind you. He was standing there, his eyes focused on your bags in the trunk of the car. Soon they slid back up to your face, his brows pulling together as a deep crease formed on his forehead.

“What’re ya doin’?” he breathed out.

Your mouth opened and closed, tears forming in your eyes as you looked at the fear and the hurt quickly washing over his face.

“I thought–thought ya were stayin’ here? Talkin’ to me?” he continued, the sound of a car door closing behind him briefly registering in your ears. “Thought ya were waitin’ for me? Why’re ya leavin’?”

Movement over his shoulder caught your attention and you tensed. Birdy was stalking her way over towards the pair of you, a pleased look on her face.

“Let her go, Mikey, love,” she called out. “She shouldn’ be here.”

His face tightened in confusion as he turned, focusing on Birdy as she approached. She eventually came to a stop just a few feet behind him, her arms crossed over her chest.

“What d’ya mean she shouldn’ be here?” he asked her.

“I mean she’s a liar, Mikey,” Birdy told him, her eyes shifting to you. “Aren’t ya dear? Your name isn’ Grace, for starters.”

Michael’s brows somehow furrowed even further, the confusion only growing on his face as he looked back at you. “What’s she on ‘bout, Grace?” he asked.

Your palms began to sweat, your breath coming in short. She was going to feed him lies and he was going to believe every word of it, wasn’t he? Not only would you have to leave, you’d be leaving him with the wrong impression of yourself.

“That’s not my name,” you answered nervously. Licking your lips, you uttered your actual name, noticing the way the corner of Michael’s lips twitched. “I–I couldn’t use my real name because–”

“Because she’s tryin’ to help that bloody Serpent biker gang in Cork get close to Eamon, that’s why,” Birdy said, cutting you off. Her eyes flickered towards the driver in the car before they returned to Michael, her voice lowering. “They need a supplier. Apparently thinkin’ they can send someone to fuck a Kinsella and get in close.”

Michael instantly was shaking his head at her. “No, you’re wrong, Birdy,” he told her.

Birdy shrugged, her cold stare landing back on you. “If I’m wrong then why is she leavin’, pet?”

You sucked in a breath when both of them focused on you, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. This was your chance to tell them the truth. Maybe they wouldn’t believe you, but if you didn’t just get it out there you’d never know.

“Because you threatened to reach out to Victor,” you blurted, your focus on Birdy. “To tell him where I am. Lead him straight to my fucking door.”

Birdy’s eyes instantly narrowed back at you, her head tilting a little to the side. “Your fiance?” she asked.

“What?” Michael gasped.

“Ex -fiance,” you said firmly, eyes still focused on Birdy. “We haven’t been together in almost two years. I left him because he was–” your eyes closed, your voice quivering as you tried to continue “–violent. Outside of the Club.”

Neither Michael or Birdy spoke immediately. Your arms wrapped around yourself, gaze dropping down to your feet.

“You–you threatened to alert the Serpents to me being here if I didn’t leave,” you continued, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “And if you’d done that, he’d have shown up and killed me. And my sister. And probably Michael for ever spending any amount of time with me. And if any of the rest of you got in his way, he’d have gone after you all, too.” Your watery gaze flew up to meet Birdy’s quickly softening expression. “You didn’t exactly give me a choice. I had to leave to keep everyone else safe. Because I sure as shit didn’t expect you to hear me out.”

“Oh, dear, I didn’–”

Michael’s hands balled into fists at his sides, a sharp exhale falling from his nose that somehow alone managed to cut Birdy clean off. He abruptly turned towards her, his body tense and his eyes hard. You swore you saw Birdy visibly shrink back under the weight of his stare.

“Ya threatened her?” he asked, voice dangerously low.

“I was only lookin’ out for the family, pet,” she explained quickly. “I knew somethin’ was off the moment she arrived. I noticed she was spendin’ time with ya. Gettin’ close. I wanted to make sure ya were safe, Mikey, love.”

Michael took a step towards her, his shoulders squared and his jaw tight. “I can take care of myself, Birdy,” he growled. “I don’ need ya watchin’ my moves and who I’m spendin’ my time with. D’ya hear me?”

“Of course, pet,” Birdy said, a nervous smile on her mouth. “Ya know I’d never do anythin’ to hurt ya.”

Michael took another intimidating step towards Birdy, your eyes catching the slight half step she took backwards. He looked terrifying, all calm and angry like he was, a fire raging just beneath the surface of that calm exterior. Not that you felt afraid of him, no. If anything you felt like the man before you could hold his own against Victor if he ever came around. Michael had often come across as quiet and a little awkward when the pair of you had been together. He’d been sweet and gentle with you, even lowering his guard and letting you see just a glimpse of that vulnerable interior he kept locked up. But seeing him like this was something else. He was fearsome. Formidable. Someone quite obviously not meant to be fucked with.

And here he was defending you to his own family.

“I hope to fuckin’ hell ya didn’ reach out to her ex, Birdy,” Michael snarled, posture still rigid and tense as he stared her down. “Because so help me if ya did.”

“I didn’!” she exclaimed, her eyes darting over his shoulder to you. “I didn’ contact anyone. I–I was goin’ to, yes, if ya gave me reason. But I didn’ know he was… hurtin’ ya, dear. I’d have never made threats if I’d known what was really goin’ on.” Her eyes flew back to Michael, something vulnerable shining in them back at him. “And ya know I wouldn’, Mikey. Ya know that’s the truth.”

He exhaled a long breath, some of the tension easing out of his body with it. Turning over his shoulder, he eyed you for a long moment, his expression slowly becoming more subdued. His attention quickly snapped back to Birdy moments later, a firm finger pointing at her chest.

“Go back home, Birdy,” he ordered. “Don’t tell the others anymore ‘bout this shite story. Or ‘bout her. Ya hear me? I don’t need the others pokin’ around her, either. Not right now. There’s enough we’re dealin’ with.”

Birdy opened her mouth to say more, but Michael immediately leaned in closer towards her, cutting her off before she could begin.

“Now, Birdy,” he growled. “Ya made enough of a mess already.”

Her eyes slowly slid back to you, an apologetic look crossing her features. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said softly. “I had no idea.”

She made her way back towards her still idling car with less zeal in her steps than before. Michael turned on the spot, briskly walking back towards you without a word. He reached into the car behind you, effortlessly pulling both of your bags out of the trunk at the same time. He set them down on the street before roughly closing the trunk. Then he pulled the handles of your luggage back up before his eyes finally landed on you.

“Ya aren’t leavin’,” he stated simply.

You watched in surprise as he rolled the bags around to the driver’s side of the car, pausing beside the now very timid driver. He reached into the pocket of his dark brown jacket, pulling out a wallet. After a second he pulled out a few bills and then pushed them at the driver through the open window.

“Ya aren’t needed,” he said gruffly, gesturing down the street with his head.

You stood there stunned and speechless, watching as the driver quickly accepted the cash and then drove off. Your eyes were on the headlights until the car turned the corner and left the street. Slowly your attention shifted back to Michael. He was staring back at you, the handle of one of your bags in each of his hands. He looked vastly less angry now that it was just the two of you.

“Let’s get your stuff back inside,” he said. “Then we can talk.”

You nodded, making your way back up the driveway to Megan’s house, Michael pulling your bags behind him. Bending down, you retrieved the key back from underneath the pot and then rose to your feet, unlocking the door. You swung it open and stepped inside, Michael following in behind you. He made his way straight down the hall to the sitting room with your bags in tow as you shut and locked the front door. Then nervously you made your way down the hall after him.

You found him standing awkwardly beside Megan’s sofa, his jacket tossed over the armrest and a timid expression on his face. Something almost nervous. You stopped just in the entryway of the room yourself, your arms awkwardly crossing over your chest.

“Ya were just goin’ to leave without a word?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I tried to talk to you last night,” you began, the words just pouring out of you. “I didn’t know you were going to be getting arrested. I was planning to stay up the whole night waiting for you to come back from whatever it was you were out doing if that’s what it took to talk to you. But then I saw you in cuffs being put in the back of a Garda car and figured I didn’t have a choice but to run. It’s not like I wanted to do this.”

Michael ran a hand through his hair, his eyes focused on the sofa. “That’s why I hadn’ heard from ya in a few days, yeah?” he asked, still not looking at you. “Because ya were plannin’ to disappear on me?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears yet again threatening to fall.

At the sound of your voice breaking on the words, Michael’s attention returned to you. Everything about his expression and his body language immediately softened in response. He crossed the space between you, drawing you straight into him without hesitation. Your arms eagerly encircled him in return, burying your face into his blue sweater.

“I’ve felt like an asshole all week,” you said, tears already falling down your cheeks. “I was going to leave Megan without a goodbye. And I’d been ignoring you– hurting you–and you didn’t deserve it. Especially not with everything you’ve had happening already.”

Michael’s arms held you tighter, his hands splayed wide over your back. He lowered himself to rest his chin along the top of your head.

“Ya were scared,” he murmured. “I understand why ya were goin’ to do it.”

“I wanted to talk to you last night,” you assured him. “I really wanted to. But then you had to leave, and you were arrested before I could have a chance after that.”

“Detained,” Michael muttered. “I wasn’ arrested. Was detained for questionin’ ‘bout a shootin’ last night.”

“Why’d they let you go so soon?” you asked softly. “Thought they would hold you the full twenty-four hours at least.”

Michael let out an amused snort, the sound taking you off guard and drawing the corner of your lips upwards.

“Barely been here that long and already know how the guards operate in Ireland, yeah?” he replied in amusement.

You shrugged, turning to rest your cheek against his chest. He still smelled like that smokey cinnamon scent and it was quickly relaxing you.

“Pretty sure they’re like that everywhere,” you answered. “So how’d you get released so soon? Or…am I not allowed to know that?”

“Seizure,” he said softly. “Or so they’re thinkin’. Guess ya were right ‘bout that the first night I met ya.” His hands began to soothingly run along your back as he spoke. “Need to see a GP to find out if that’s what’s goin’ on. But apparently they can’t question me after havin’ one, so I was released this mornin’. Have to reschedule their questionin’.”

“Mmm,” you hummed out, eyelids slowly lowering.

Despite the stress and fear of the past few days, and especially this morning, you found yourself feeling oddly content wrapped in Michael’s embrace right now. All you wanted was to stay like this, nothing more.

“Can we finally talk about what’s goin’ on with ya?” he asked gently. “‘Bout your ex-fiance and the fake name you’re usin’?”

A sigh fell out of you, your fingers tightening against the material of his sweater. You knew this was coming but you really didn’t want to delve into it.

“Ya don’ have to tell me everythin’ if you’re not ready,” he whispered, drawing his chin from off the top of your head and looking down at you. “But if ya have some sort of dangerous ex chasin’ ya down, I should probably know somethin’ to make sure I can help keep Megan and ya safe.”

You drew back from him, shaking your head at his words. “Michael, you don’t need–”

“Ya think I’m just goin’ to let some arsehole scare ya and keep ya in hidin’?” he shot back, eyes narrowed. “Not sayin’ I’m goin’ to be a reckless arsehole myself, but I’m not leavin’ ya to deal with him. Not while I’m still here.” His head gestured to the sofa. “So can we talk?”

Drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you chewed it nervously for a moment before you nodded. Your arms released their hold around his waist, his own falling down to his sides as the pair of you made your way to the sofa. You sat down beside each other, your thigh brushing up against his as you focused on your fidgeting hands in your lap.

“I uh, I need to keep using the fake name still,” you began, nervously glancing up at him. “I can’t have Victor finding out I’m here so I can’t exactly risk using my real name.”

Michael nodded, a solemn expression on his face. "Who is he?" he asked.

"He's uh, what they call the Sergeant at Arms for the Serpents of Hell. For the Mother Charter–the founding charter," you explained. "They’re an outlaw MC. Running illegal drugs and guns across the US, but apparently they have a charter here that I didn't know about. Over in Cork."

"What's a…Sergeant at Arms?" he asked curiously.

Your eyes dropped back down to your hands where they were fidgeting in your lap. "It's a higher ranking position in the Club. There's the President and a Vice President. Then the Sergeant at Arms. He's like a bodyguard to the President and an enforcer of the Club rules." You swallowed hard, your focus still intensely on your hands. "Oftentimes a triggerman. President gives a name, he kills."

"How'd ya get involved with all of that?" he asked carefully. "With him?"

"That's…sort of a long story," you admitted, looking back up at him. "Maybe one for another day?"

Michael nodded, a gentle smile spreading on his lips. "Why's he after ya then? Can ya tell me that?"

"We–we were engaged," you admitted awkwardly. "Like Birdy said. He wasn't–wasn't like that with me. In the beginning, of course. But he eventually became possessive." Your hands curled into fists in your lap, fighting to keep the memories down. "Easily made jealous. And his temper eventually came to the surface. Especially when he drank."

You saw the way Michael’s jaw clenched at your words, the muscles twitching in his cheeks. He looked like he was barely containing his rage beneath the surface the more you told him. Just like when he’d been telling Birdy off a bit ago. You wondered what it would look like when he wasn’t containing it.

Eyes falling back down to your lap, you continued. "He took things too far one day and I–I ran the first chance I got. But he–he eventually caught me and dragged me back with him. A few times. And now I think I've finally pissed him off enough that he doesn't want to drag me back anymore." Your nails dug into your palms again, the cuts on your hands stinging in response. "I'm certain he's planning to kill me if he finds me again."

A shudder of fear ran through your spine, your eyes snapping shut. You were afraid of what might happen if you were to encounter Victor again, often having nightmares about it. You were certain you’d pushed him one too many times.

Michael's hand grabbed onto one of yours, tenderness in his touch. Your hands shifted until you were clinging to his hand like a lifeline in return, eyes still tightly closed.

"I won't let that happen," he promised. "I want ya to know that, Grace. I will not let him hurt ya."

You felt his other hand suddenly gripping your chin, carefully turning your face towards his. Eyelids fluttering open, you took in the warm and compassionate expression on his face as he gazed back at you. His hand slid up to cradle your cheek in his palm, holding you so gently like he was afraid one wrong move might scare you off. His thumb lightly stroked back and forth along your cheekbone as he held your gaze.

"And I want ya to know that I would never lay a hand on ya like that," he said firmly. "I'd never hurt ya. Never would want ya to be scared o' me."

"I'm not afraid of you, Michael," you replied firmly.

You saw a handful of emotions flash across his face so quickly it was almost impossible to catch each one. Eventually a frown was pulling his lips downward, something like guilt lingering in his eyes.

"Ya know what I did last night, don't ya?" he whispered.

You did, actually. You'd seen the news this morning. Someone by the name of Caolon Moore had been shot when he'd been out at a bar last night. A man had walked in and shot him five times before fleeing the scene. Garda apparently assumed it was gangland activity.

You weren't an idiot. You'd been around this sort of life enough. You knew it was Michael who'd shot him in retaliation for killing his son–though after the brief interaction you saw between him and Jimmy and Amanda last night before he had gone, you had a strong feeling he'd been guilted into doing the shooting.

"Yeah," you answered.

The muscles jumped in his cheeks as Michael ground his teeth together. His lips were pressed into a thin line but you saw something hopeful flickering in his eyes that he was clearly struggling to fight back.

"I did it," he admitted.

"I know," you whispered.

His lips were visibly trembling, his palm pressing further into your cheek. You leant into his touch, your eyes still locked on his.

"I didn't want to," he breathed out.

A sad smile slid onto your mouth, your own hand coming to rest over the top of his. "I know," you repeated.

He swallowed hard at your words. You saw that hope mix with something else in his eyes as he held your gaze. There was something softer in them now, something affectionate, and it was taking over his entire face the longer you looked.

“And ya still aren’ afraid of me?” he asked, voice barely audible with how quietly he’d spoken. “Don’t think I’m a monster?”

You shook your head slowly. “No,” you admitted.

There was a moment that passed between you both, one that felt like it lasted far longer than it truly had. Michael’s eyes were watering with unshed tears, his calloused thumb still brushing back and forth against your cheek. But there was a small smile slowly forming on his lips, one that was gradually spreading up to his eyes. You could feel the pounding of your heart in your chest as if his eyes alone were igniting some sort of fire in you.

Slowly he leaned in towards you, his hand on your cheek drawing you in towards him as he did. You let him, your body willingly being drawn to him like a magnet. Michael lowered his forehead to yours, his eyes closing. Your eyes dropped down to his lips, aware of how close they were to yours now, closer than they’d ever been before. It took every ounce of willpower in you to refrain from leaning up and just kissing him, your pulse quickening in anticipation at the thought alone.

“What ‘bout Saturday mornin’?” he whispered, your eyes still focused on his mouth as he spoke. “At nine?”

Brows drawing together in confusion, you quickly tried to backpedal and make sense of the question. But the question didn’t make sense with the previous topic of conversation.

“For–for what?” you asked.

Michael huffed out a laugh, his warm breath hitting your lips and raising goosebumps on your skin beneath your sweater. His nose gently nudged your own and you felt like you were about to lose that battle with your willpower.

“For that coffee, pet,” he murmured. “Can I take ya for coffee Saturday mornin’ at nine?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

His nose nudged yours again and your eyelids lowered partially. His lips were parted now, his breath falling into your own mouth with each exhale. The sensation was making you lightheaded, especially with the way your breath had started to come in shallower.

“Can I finally kiss ya?” he asked.

Your heart was slamming violently against its confines now, the anticipation of his mouth on yours feeling like a slow death in itself.

“I wish you would,” you breathed out.

Michael didn’t waste another moment, his head shifting just a bit so his lips could gently capture your own. They were softer than you’d have imagined. Gentle and warm as he carefully and hesitantly kissed you. Seconds later his lips released yours, but your mouth instantly chased after his, craving more of him.

His hand slid back from your cheek, making its way to hold the back of your head and pulling you more firmly towards him the moment your lips reconnected. Your own hand slid down his arm until you were grasping at his broad shoulders with both of your hands. Your fingers dug into his sweater as you held him, desperate not to let him slip through your own hands.

You were struggling to catch your breath between the increasing flurry of his lips on yours, gasping for air each time his mouth briefly left yours. The sound seemed to only further spur Michael onward, his hand soon lightly gripping the back of your neck and pressing you closer to him. Your arms wrapped around him in response, pulling yourself halfway onto him on the couch until your chests were pressed together. Fleetingly you wondered if it was your heartbeat thundering in your chest or his.

Michael’s tongue soon swiped along your bottom lip, wet and warm, and you eagerly allowed him to slide it into your mouth. Your own tongue greeted his, one of your hands snaking upwards to grip a handful of his dark hair. A moan slipped from your mouth straight into his own as you felt yourself quickly getting lost in him. His other hand suddenly grabbed your hip roughly at the sound, his fingertips brushing a bit of skin just beneath your sweater.

The scent of him was filling your nose as his tongue continued to lap so sensuously against your own. Everything about him was driving you wild, and fuck how you wanted him right here and now. To tear that sweater straight off of him and take things further on that very fucking couch, especially with how you’d almost fled and thought you’d never see him again barely minutes ago. You just wanted to feel his hands and his lips roaming every inch of your body. Wanted to memorize every inch of his.

But this wasn’t the time. Especially considering how long it had been since you'd last had sex with anyone. And now feelings were involved. You didn't want to do the wrong thing, to act before thinking things through.

Your hand slid down from his shoulder, pressing lightly against his chest. Reluctantly you broke your mouth away from his, gasping for air when you did. Michael’s shoulders were heaving as he tried to catch his own breath, his dark brows pulling together as he eyed you nervously.

"Did I do somethin' wrong?" he asked.

You shook your head, one hand still fisting his hair and the other still splayed over his chest. "No," you answered. "We just–maybe now isn't the time for… that ."

It was a moment before your meaning registered, your eyes watching his expression shift as it did. He was grinning back at you, his hand playfully squeezing your hip.

"Wasn’t plannin' to let things go that far with ya right now," he said cheekily. "But I understand."

You cleared your throat, heat warming your cheeks at his words as your hands gradually released their hold on him.

"Why don't I let ya unpack?" he suggested. Shooting you a sheepish smile, one hand coming to rub the back of his neck, he continued, "Because honestly I could use some sleep after yesterday and this mornin'. And I have a feelin’ once Jimmy is out I’ll be in a heap o’ shite with the family. So maybe we can continue this another time?”

You shot him a coy smile yourself. “The conversation or the other part?” you asked.

He chuckled as he rose to his feet. You followed after him, noticing the way his eyes followed your every moment, that delighted smile on his face only drawing one onto your own.

“How ‘bout I leave that up to you to decide, yeah?” he replied.

Nervously tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, you ducked your head at his words. You definitely wanted to continue the other part later.

“How about I walk you out then?” you offered.

“That’d be grand, pet,” he said, his hand reaching out and grasping onto yours.

Fingers entwined together, Michael grabbed his jacket from the couch before you led him down the short hallway, passing the kitchen on the way to the front door. When you reached it, you came to a stop and turned towards him. He was grinning down at you already, that dimple visible just beneath his beard. You could feel your nerves swirling in your stomach as if a handful of butterflies had been released into it.

“I’ll see ya later, then?” he asked. “Ya aren’t goin’ to run off on me?”

You shook your head, smiling back up at him. “I’m not going anywhere now,” you told him. “So I’ll see you later to pick up where we left off.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And I’ll be curious to know what part of that you’re talkin’ ‘bout resumin’ later.”

You shrugged a shoulder innocently. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out,” you replied.

He laughed lightly, leaning down towards you and placing a simple, sweet peck to your lips. As he pulled away he whispered, “I’d happily wait to find out.”

He released your hand and opened the front door, your heart skipping excitedly in your chest as you watched him make his way down the front drive. When he neared the stone fence he turned, pausing to glance over at you. You smiled, leaning against the doorframe and shooting him a wave. The biggest smile you’d yet to see on his face spread across his lips, his hand returning the wave before he rounded the fence and made his way home.

With a sigh you closed the front door, making your way down the short hallway and back to the sitting room. You grabbed one of your suitcases and hefted it up into your arms, carrying it up the stairs and back to your bedroom. You set it down near the closet, wiping a hand across your forehead. Movement outside of your bedroom window caught your eye and your head darted in that direction.

Michael was standing at his bedroom window now, one hand on his curtains as if he’d been about to close them. But now he was smiling at you through the window. You grinned, taking a few steps towards your own window and shooting him a wave. He nodded his head at you before his hand released the curtains. You watched as both of his hands came to grip the hem of his sweater before he lifted it up over his head, tossing it somewhere in the room behind him.

Your brows rose up onto your forehead, lips parting in surprise as you took in the shirtless sight of him, the bit of chest hair covering his lightly muscled torso. When your eyes darted back up to his face, he shot you a wink before he laughed, and then his hand reached up and closed his curtains.

“I am so fucking glad I did not get in that car,” you whispered to yourself. “Fucking hell.”

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x female reader #michael kinsella #kin (amc)#kin fanficiton

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so-much-for-stardust6 · 2 months

Text

Tour- Wes Borland/ Limp Bizkit

summary: y/n and her band is invited to tour with limp bizkit and korn on their 1998 family values tour. but a certain someone is clashing teeth with the all girl metal band.

lowercase intended & not proof read

warnings: none (i think)

a/n: this was request by @mizfitneeds sorry for taking so long to get this request out but i loved writing it! i also don’t know why i wrote fred to be such a huge misogynistic guy 😭 also y/b/n means your band name :)

“great going, y/n, being late to meet the bands we’re opening for is a great first impression!” my drummer, lara, says to me as we all pile out the van.

“it’s not my fault i couldn’t find my shoes! i had them next to my door before i slept!” i argue back.

“maybe you should wake up earlier than 30 minutes before leaving, just a suggestion.” my lead guitarist, veronica, spits back.

“we’re only 5 minutes late, get off my dick.” i mumble.

“yeah, tell that to them.” my bassist, chloe, laughs at my words.

we sped walk inside the recording label building, running to catch the elevator. we stood inside in silence, the angry tension thick. we reach our floor and my eyes immediately land on jonathan davis, the lead vocalist of korn.

“look at them, just waiting there for our asses.” veronica complains.

i notice munky look our way, alerting everyone about our presence. we open the glass door, an eruption of ‘hey’s filling up the room.

“hey so sorry we’re late, y/n couldn’t find her stupid shoes.” lara laughs.

“classic y/n.” head’s laugh fills my eardrums.

“head! come here man!” i open my arms for a hug.

i’ve known brian, or head as he goes by, since we were in elementary. unfortunately i had to move states so i lost contact with him until 1995 (last year) when he found my number and reached out to me. i gave him a tight bear hug which he returned as well.

“it’s so good to see you guys again. you all packed and ready for tour?” fieldy asks.

“oh yeah, i’ve been packed for days.” lara says proudly.

“she has a checklist and everything to make sure she brings everything.” chloe says, playfully shoving lara.

“are you sure they’re good enough to tour with us?” i heard fred ask jonathan.

“yeah man, they fuckin’ rock.”

“i dunno, they’re girls, can girls really rock?”

i scoff at his words but decide to mind my business and stay out their conversation.

“hey baby.” my boyfriend, wes, says approaching me.

he leaned in for a kiss which i gladly accepted. he then brought me into a side hug and rested his hand on my hip.

“okay so, tomorrow is the official day we leave for tour. we’re meeting up at the airport and we’re taking a private jet to the first city.” jonathan explains.

“private jet courtesy of me.” fred pretends to tip the brim of his hat.

i give a fake smile and fake laugh a bit, not really caring for his humor right now.

“do we drive ourselves or is there someone picking us up.” victoria asks.

“good question. i think you guys should have someone take you. personally, i hate leaving my car at the airport.” jonathan replies.

“great! what time are we leaving again?” lara questions.

“9:30am.” fred responds.

“god damn.” i mutter.

i’m an night owl so waking up early is the worst for me.

“what you can’t handle it, princess? is the tour life not for you?” fred says as he fake pouts.

i roll my eyes and felt wes’ hand grip my hip at his words.

“okay then, i believe that’s all. unless anyone else has anything to say.” jonathan clears his throat, trying to change the tone of the room.

“i do! why not have actual musicians open for us? i mean come on, no one is gonna wanna pay to see some GIRLS play music.” he scoffs.

i stood there fuming, already planning the way i’m gonna beat his ass in my head.

“seriously fred? what’s up with you?” wes asks, shaking his head in disbelief at his best friend.

“am i the only one here who has a problem here?!”

“yes.” literally everyone says in unison.

“if you have a fucking problem that fucking do something about it.” i raise my voice, leaving wes’ side to stand in front of fred.

“i’m sorry guys i-“

“no, it’s okay. i understand some guys are too insecure about women being actually good at things.” i bit back, cutting off head.

“me? insecure? i’m fuckin fred durst man. the only thing you’re fuckin is head and the rest of korn, that’s the only reason you and your girlband is touring with us anyways.”

it was dead silent after his words. i stood there glaring at him, too mad to even come up with anything.

“what the fuck, fred?!” wes exclaims.

“y/n…” chloe softly spoke.

i turned around and immediately walked out of the room, ignoring my friends’ pleading calls for me. i mutter shit to myself as i make it back to our car.

“y/n!” i hear head call out from behind me.

i slow down my speed but i don’t stop completely.

“i’m sorry for him. i-i don’t know why he’s being a dick.”

“it’s whatever. i’ve dealt with worse guys. i-i just don’t know why he’s acting like this?” i scoff.

“i don’t know either. but just ignore him.” head pleads, trying to stop me from getting in the car.

“kinda hard to when i’m gonna be touring with him.” i open the driver’s door and stuff myself inside.

head sighs as he watches me turn on the car, the music from before blasting out loud. he knew i wouldn’t come back out so he smacks his lips and walks back inside. i angrily hum along to the music as i wait for my friends.

~head’s pov~

i think of the words i’m gonna tell fred as i walk back up to the elevator. just as i was going to press the button, the rest of the band comes out.

“where’s y/n? is she okay?” lara asks, obviously worried for her.

“yeah she’s okay. understandably pissed off.”

“can’t blame her..” veronica mumbles.

“she’s in the car waiting for you guys.”

“okay, thank you. we’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?” chloe says.

“yeah, see you tomorrow.” i nod at them.

lara lets go of the elevator door that she was holding onto the whole time after i step in. i replay fred’s words in my mind as i start to get slightly angry. y/n has been a long time friend and her gender doesn’t mean anything. once the doors open, i see that everyone was inside the room still but i notice jonathan yelling at fred. i prepare myself for the drama i’m forcing myself into.

“i don’t understand why though?!” jonathan yelled as soon as i walked inside.

“can i not have my own opinion?! jesus man.” fred tries to play victim.

“not really dude, they’re being so nice to you and you’re acting like a dick.” munky bites back.

“y/n is one hell of a rocker, you just gotta give her a chance.” wes defends.

“you only say that because she’s your girlfriend, borland! you have to pretend she’s good!” he laughs his obnoxious laugh.

“her being my girlfriend doesn’t mean shit! either way i believe they’re great musicians no matter their genders! and you fucking take back what you said about her sleeping with korn.” he was clearly pissed.

wes walked up into fred’s face and i could sense a fight brewing.

“you know what, this meeting is over. everyone go home and we’ll see each other tomorrow.” jonathan quickly ends the conversation before anymore arguing can start.

everyone quickly stood up and left as fred mumbled to himself.

“hey head, is y/n okay? i-i’m sorry i didn’t go after her, i’m just so fucking pissed at fred.” wes sighs.

“she’s just her, you know. she went back home with the girls.”

“okay okay, that’s good. i’ll call her when i get home. thanks man, i’ll see you tomorrow.” he pats my shoulder and walks away.

“okay. great. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

~time skip & back to y/n’s pov~

my alarm clock goes off, waking me from my wonderful dream. i was dreaming of wes, dreaming of things i can’t say out loud. i groan out loud as i sit up and lazily rub my eyes. i turn off the alarm and throw my blanket off. i thank myself as i look at all my packed luggages i had prepared. i hear honking from outside which made me furrow my eyebrows. i walk to my window and open the curtains to see my friends standing out their car. i fully open the window and get that chilly september air.

“what are you guys doing here?!” i shout out from my window.

“here to pick you up! hurry up!” lara shouts back.

“i barely just woke up! i thought i said to meet me here at 7:30?”

“see! i told you she said 7:30!” chloe argues with lara.

“i’ll be down soon!” i shout at them before coming back inside and locking my window shut.

i rush to get dressed and finish packing what i need, which wasn’t much since i was smart and packed beforehand. i grabbed the last items i needed and stuffed them into my carry-on bag before shoving everything out the door. i slightly struggle to take everything down to them but i manage.

“finally.” veronica jokes.

“i would’ve been faster if i had some help.”

“ooo, snarky today aren’t we?” lara laughs.

i glance inside the car and notice lara’s boyfriend mark was driving.

“oh hey mark, how’s it going?”

“it’s going. what about you, y/n?” he pops open the trunk and gets out the car to help me.

“kinda dreading this tour.” i chuckle.

“really? i thought you’d be fucking excited.” he shoved my stuff into the back of the van.

“turns out fred durst is an asshole.”

“oh, yeah i forgot about that. lara told me what happened. if you want i’ll beat his ass.” he laughs.

i laugh too knowing he’s obviously joking around. we finish putting my luggage away and all pile into the car, ready for our trip to the airport. we all blasted music and sang along, not having a care in the world. after a while of driving, we make it to the drop off.

“do you guys got it?” mark asks.

“we got it, babe. thank you for driving us.” lara smiles, leaning in to give him a kiss.

they begin to make out for a minute and we all just chuckle to ourselves knowing how lara is gonna complain about how she misses him in like a day.

“okay lovebirds, we gotta get going.” veronica butts in.

“i’ll miss you.” lara says as she pouts.

“i’ll miss you too. call me whenever you can, okay?”

“i will. i promise.”

they share one last kiss and say bye before we start heading inside. we do all the normal airport check ins and start to our way to the meetup area. i let out a breath of relief when i see everyone there except fred.

“you guys made it!” munky said, greeting us all with a hug.

“don’t worry, fred left to go get food for a bit.” he whispered in my ear once it was my turn for a hug.

“thank you.” i say genuinely.

“hey babe, how’d you sleep?” wes asks, getting up from his seat to approach me.

we share a quick kiss and a hug.

“would’ve been great if i didn’t wake up to annoying honking.” i grumble.

“you wanna sit with me?”

“duh.” i smile.

i go over and sit next to him, his black hair wet from his morning shower. his scent infiltrated my nose and i honestly felt my heart skip a beat.

“you ready for tour?” he asks, snapping me out my thoughts.

“hell yeah, i’m just a bit nervous though.”

“don’t be. i know at first you’re a nervous wreck but after the first couple shows it’ll be so normal.”

i think of his words and i take them into account. he is right and i know it.

“hopefully..”

“hey so-“

“yo jonathan i got your burger!” i suddenly hear fred’s voice.

i whip my head around and stare at the annoying man walking across the airport.

wes notices me looking distressed and instantly puts his hand on my shoulder.

“just ignore what he says.”

“what is she doing sitting in my seat?”

“i asked her to sit with me.” wes says, his voice low as he defends me.

“just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean-“

“shut up fred! i don’t understand what’s your deal with them?!” wes is now face to face with fred.

“get away from my face dude.” he shoves wes back.

“don’t touch me.”

suddenly wes shoved him back and they started to fight. everyone started shouting for them to stop so they wouldn’t get kicked out.

“chill out you guys!” fieldy shouted, trying to pry them apart.

i looked around and started to see people stare at us. i looked back at the two guys fighting and decided to step in.

“fucking stop it fred!”

i decided to be stupid and try to grab their arms. that was a mistake cause fred completely went and elbowed me in the face. i yelp out when i feel myself bite my tongue harshly.

“y/n!” head exclaimed.

everyone rushed to my side as i hid my face into my hands.

“are you okay?” lara asked, rubbing her hand along my back.

i look up at everyone, feeling blood slightly trickle down the corner of my lips.

“i’m fine.” i say in a monotone voice before getting up and heading towards a bathroom.

i was fuming and was rethinking this whole tour.

“hey…you sure you’re okay?” chloe asks, scaring me.

“yeah. i’m fine.” i spit out the blood.

“wes is absolutely fuming. i think he’s outside waiting for you.”

“just tell him i’ll be out in a second.”

“yeah okay.” she leaves me alone.

i finish cleaning myself up and walk back out. i immediately bump into wes who was waiting outside for me.

“woah, hey, you okay? i swear i’m going to fucking kill him.” he says through his gritted teeth.

“yeah no i’m good now. i didn’t know what i was thinking honestly.” i chuckle.

“are you hungry or anything?”

“a little. i was rushed by some certain people..” i look over and glare at chloe.

“sorry. now you two go have fun on your little date.” she shrugs us off.

i flip her off and walk off with wes. after getting food with wes and chatting about random stuff, it was finally time for us to board the plane. i didn’t sit with wes this time but with my band mates. lara has a fear of heights so being in a plane scared her a lot. flying over new york was the most beautiful sight ever, the shining lights and the tall buildings. we landed easily and we stepped off the plane and into the chill new york air. the wind hit my face and i closed my eyes at the feeling.

“i knew you’d love the breeze.” head said from next to me.

“of course you would.”

the ride to the hotel was a big long, new york traffic not helping. my mates and i shared one hotel room, something he suggested. i set all my luggage down in the corner of the room and flipped onto the bed, knocking out immediately.

~time skip to the soundcheck~

i strutted into the arena with nothing but sweats and a t-shirt. i was exhausted from the flight and slept nearly the whole day, not getting a chance to explore.

“good afternoon sleepyhead, how was your long nap?”

“the best. you know i love my naps.” i groan out, wishing i was in bed right now.

“hey is..is fred here? i just need to know if i need to prepare myself.”

“no, they left after their soundcheck.”

i let out a breath of relief and let my shoulder loosen.

“well then let’s have a banger soundcheck!”

and we exactly did. usually for soundchecks i don’t go crazy but for some reason i was going all out like it was the main show. afterwards i was so sweaty and out of breath but i enjoyed it.

“that was so rockin!” fieldy said, patting my back.

“thanks man!” i wiped some sweat off my forehead.

“you guys rocking it like always!” wes comes out of nowhere, smiling brightly at me.

“why thank you kind sir.”

“here’s a cloth to clean yourself up.” he randomly pulls out a washcloth.

i chuckle to myself a bit and accept it, wiping off the sweat on my skin.

“thanks.” i shove the cloth in my pocket.

“yeah no problem.”

we stood there in silence, very awkward silence.

“hey so-“

“come on y/n!” chloe interrupts wes.

i turn my head to signal them to give me a moment. i look back to wes who’s looking towards them awkwardly.

“i’m sorry, keep going.”

“oh no it’s okay. i’ll just talk to you after the show.” he gives me a warm smile and a quick peck before walking away.

i watched as he left, wondering what he wanted to say. i shrugged it off and walked back to my mates.

~time skip to the show~

i took a fat swig of my beer, hoping it’ll call my nerves.

“you doing okay?” head asked, scaring me from his sudden appearance.

“i’m honestly nervous, brian..”

“hey, it’ll be okay.” he comes and gives me a hug.

i melt into his warmth, immediately reminiscing of our past friendship.

“i’m so glad i’m here.”

“i’m glad you’re here too. i’ve missed you.”

i would remember when we would stay out late after school, playing hide and seek or tag. my mom would always buy us popsicles and make us sandwiches. he was my best friend honestly and it makes me glad to reconnect.

“just remember what your mom would say, “thinking about it too much won’t prevent failure, just believe in yourself and you’ll do good.” okay?” he says into my ear.

“okay.” i pull away and give him a genuine thank you smile.

“hey y/n, you’re gonna kill it out there!” i hear wes scream from behind us.

i look at him and give him a thumbs ups, laughing at bit at fred’s dumbass self standing there with arms crossed.

“y/b/n you guys are on!” we hear someone yell.

the girls and i huddle up and do our pre-show banter before running onto stage. a large crowd cheered for us as we set up. i fixed my guitar strap and took a deep breath in.

“we got this.” i say quietly before our drummer started our first song.

everything went by so quick that it felt like it was over by the blink of an eye. i stepped away from the mic and caught my breath, listening to the crowd holler at us.

“thank you all so much! stay cool and rock on with limp bizkit and korn!�� i say into the mic.

the crowd gets louder at my words. i smile brightly and walk off stage, handing my guitar to my guitar tech.

“you absolutely fucking killed it!” head charged at me and brought me into a tight hug.

i hugged him tightly, getting my sweat all over him.

“i have to call mark!” lara exclaimed before running off to find a phone.

“holy shit.” i suddenly hear fred shout.

head lets me down and i turn to look at him, ready to fight him.

“what now fred? i don’t want to hear what you have to say because i swear i will beat your ass with the adrenaline i still have.” i say sternly.

“i’m sorry. i-i don’t know why i was being such a misogynistic asshole, you guys seem cool. and you guys actually killed it out there. i’ve never seen anything like it before, and i dig it.” he puts out his hand for me to shake it.

i eye it before hesitantly shaking it.

“this is exactly what we need. you two the get along.” jonathan says, patting fred on the back.

“here’s a beer, you deserve it.” fieldy says, giving me a cold bottle.

“thanks man.” i crack it open and sip it.

“i see your boy toy coming for you.” head laughs, elbowing me.

i see wes coming towards me and i instantly get excited.

“you did amazing out there! seriously.” he brings me into a tight hug.

“thanks baby.” i pull away to press a long kiss to his lips.

“so..what i was going to ask you…w-would you like to hang out tomorrow? you know explore the place?”

“are you asking me on a date, borland?”

“basically yeah.”

“i’d love to go on a date with you.”

“ooo the two lovebirds are going out!” chloe teases.

i roll my eyes at her playful banter and laugh when i see wes’ cheeks burn light pink. little did i know wes had a ring tucked away in his luggage, ready to give to me tomorrow.

#wes borland #wes borland imagines #wes borland smut #limp bizkit #limp bizkit imagines #limp bizkit smut #korn band #korn band imagines #fred durst #fred durst imagines #fred durst smut #nu metal #90s nu metal imagines #90s nu metal smut

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