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decentwritings · 6 months ago

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Chapter 5

Summary: At twenty-six, you never expected your life to look like this: a veteran, a college dropout, now running drugs to cover your late father’s debts. The military took you away for a brief moment, but now you're back in your hometown, keeping family at a distance to keep them safe. Your simple plan to clear the debt, one job at a time, unravels the moment Mabel steps into your life.

previous part <- -> next part

You manage to leave at nine, telling your mom and sister you have an early morning. They buy the lie and let you go, while Devin pesters you with questions about Mabel. He mentions she promised to bake a cake with him, which twists the knife even deeper as you head out the door. The guilt gnaws at you, but you push it down.

When you get home, you want nothing more than to hide under the covers and shut the world out. But you know better. There's no avoiding tonight. You sigh, forcing yourself into action, and head for the closet.

You open it, punch in the code on your safe, and scan your fingerprint. The door clicks open, revealing the gun, an extra magazine, and some cash laid out neatly. You stare at the gun for a moment, a bitter reminder of what you're getting pulled into.

Devin is a curious kid, which is why you had to upgrade to this new safe. You caught him playing with your old one, punching in random numbers for fun. The last thing you needed was for him to accidentally figure out the code, so you got one with a fingerprint scanner to avoid any risks.

You grab the gun, checking the current magazine before tucking the extra one into your pocket. The gun slides into your waistband, but you wince at how uncomfortable it feels. You've been meaning to buy a holster, but never got around to it. After tonight, though, you need to make time. Especially after that threat.

With about an hour left until you need to be there, you decide to walk around and clear your head. But the regret hits when you circle the block, your mind filled with thoughts of Mabel. The memory of her hurt, disappointed face plays over and over, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

As you finish your walk, the weight of the gun against your waistband feels heavier than it did before. No matter how many times you adjust it, the discomfort doesn't go away. The uncomfortable thoughts of Mabel mix with the sharp reality of what you're about to face tonight. You knew this would catch up with you one day, but you never thought it would happen like this—with someone like Mabel getting caught in the crossfire.

You check your phone. Thirty minutes left.

You make your way back to your apartment, mentally running through every scenario you can think of—ways to handle Nick, what to say if he pushes too far. But none of them feel right. You're too distracted. You can't shake the memory of Mabel's face, the way her voice trembled when she asked for her keys.

You shake your head, trying to refocus. Nick's the priority tonight. This isn't the time to let emotions mess with your judgment.

You get into your car and drive towards the meeting point, the streets eerily quiet at this hour. Each red light feels like a countdown ticking in your head. You park a block away from the spot, hands gripping the wheel as you watch the clock on your dashboard.

The lot isn't as empty as you close in on it. There are a few cars littered here and there. There's one specific car that's been here since your first drop with these guys. You think about asking around town for it; the car looks in good condition. You don't know why someone abandoned it here.

Nick hops out of the van with Oliver and Isaac in tow. There's a truck parked next the van and Costa and Tom hop out of it, and you feel a breath of relief come out of your mouth at the sight of the father.

You greet them with a nod then silent follow as they take the lead. Costa walks alongside you, head down, same as you.

"He knows about you and Mabel," Costa's voice is low, eyes focused on the back of Nick's head. You glance at him, giving him a look he understands well. He nods, pursing his lips in a thin line. "Charlie tried to get him to back off but–"

"Broke his hand?" You finish, and he nods. All you can do is shake your head.

"Listen," Costa sighs, waiting to see if Nick is listening. When the man keeps walking, he continues. "Mabel may say she can handle this but...she wants out–she is out. Keep it that way."

You swallow thickly. "I am," you tell him, and by the look on your face; he frowns. He understands and it break his heart. "I don't want her anywhere near this. Or you, man." You add, sending him a pointed glare.

Costa shrugs. "That dive you took, remember?" You nod, furrowing your brows. "That was suppose to be my last. But they needed an extra guy, and with Charlie out–I got pulled in. But this is my last one; no way they're reeling me into another one."

You nod, tucking your hands in your pockets. You were going to make sure of it.

You guys come to a stop towards the end of the lot. Some men stand there with a large container behind them. You crack your neck, hoping to relieve the ache and tension there. Something tells you this is bigger than the last. How these guys are moving big things without getting caught is beyond you. You'll worry about it later.

Nick exchanges some words with one of the men, too quiet for you to hear. You glance at Costa and he shakes his head, silently telling you not to ask. Tom steps forward, a large duffel bag in his hands you hadn't noticed before.

"It's all there," Nick says to one of the men, narrowing his eyes. Another one takes the duffel from Tom, practically snatching it from him then unzips the bag. You catch a glimpse of some stacks of one hundred dollar bills.

You look away, clenching your jaw. A cash exchange for whatever is in that container? This is ridiculous.

"Looks and feels like one mill," the man says, handing the duffel to his boss. You control your expression; one million dollars? That's more than you have ever heard them handle.

"Now, show me yours," Nick orders, crossing his arms.

The shorter one turns and begins to unlock the container. He struggles to open the doors but once he does, the sight of a powdered drugs fills the scene. From floor to ceiling of the container is filled.

Nick glances back, at all of you, a proud smirk on his lips. "Ronny is gonna have a field day," he whistles, tipping an imaginary hat at the drugs. "Alright. Pleasure doing business," he extends his hand towards the taller one and they shake hands before they leave.

Once they're out of sight, Nick turns to Tom with a sharp grin. "Last shipment, crew."

Tom scoffs, arms crossed, his unimpressed expression etched deeply into his face. Then again, that's his natural look. "You said that last time." He spits on the ground, eyes narrowing. "We're only here because Charlie back-talked you. We're done."

Nick's laughter is dry and humorless, cutting through the silence like a blade.

He scratches his chin, his grin fading into something darker. Without a word, he nods at Isaac. The man moves like a well-trained dog, pulling his gun and leveling it at Tom.

The crew tenses as Nick steps closer to Tom, who stiffens but doesn't back down. "I think you're confused," Nick says, his voice low and venomous. He looks over at Costa, flashing him a smile that's too friendly to be anything but a threat. "None of you are done. Not until I say you're done."

Your jaw tightens as Costa shifts beside you. He's done. You can feel it in the way he won't meet your gaze, his shoulders slumping under the weight of Nick's words. Tom's done. Hell, even you're done. But none of that matters to Nick.

You glance at Oliver. His eyes meet yours, pleading silently: Don't. But your inner voice-the one that remembers your father's mistakes—won't stay quiet. Don't let Costa turn out like him.

Your decision comes fast. Too fast. Before you can think, your hand shoots out, grabbing Isaac's wrist. There's a sickening crunch as his fingers bend unnaturally, and the gun slips from his grasp. He yells in pain, stumbling back, but you don't stop. You raise it with certainty, aiming it squarely at Nick.

The shift in the room is instant. Nick's smirk vanishes, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. Around you, the crew freezes, their breath caught in their throats. Even Isaac's groans fade into the background as the blood roars in your ears.

Nick's eyes narrow, flicking to Oliver. The silent command is clear: Do something.

Oliver hesitates, his hand hovering near his holstered weapon. For a moment, he's unreadable. Then you see it—hesitation, uncertainty. It's a crack in the soldier's armor, and it shifts the balance in the room.

"What the hell are you waiting for, Oliver?" Nick snaps, his voice sharp enough to cut. "Do your damn job!"

But Oliver doesn't move. His gaze drops to the floor, fists clenched. It's a small rebellion, but the defiance radiates from him. You catch the flicker of frustration in Nick's expression, and the tension tightens like a noose.

Oliver's fingers twitch toward his weapon. Instinct takes over. You pivot, leveling the gun at him before he can even draw. He freezes, hands slowly rising as his glare burns into you. He's angry–probably humiliated–that you outmaneuvered him. For a soldier with more time in the field, it's a bitter pill to swallow. You're surprised yourself, but there's no time to dwell on it.

Without breaking your aim, you step forward and yank his gun from its holster. The weight is familiar now, your grip steady. You toss it to Tom, who catches it with a quick nod and points it at Nick.

"Now where did a pretty girl like you get the balls do all this?" Nick asks, sarcastic, like he has no gun on him. His arms raise when Tom waves the gun at him, and he glares back.

"The Army, jackass," you retort, clenching your jaw. His eyes flicker to Oliver, who avoids his gaze. He looks pissed, angry that Oliver knew and didn't share this information. "New deal. You leave them out of this; you got me. I was Army, a Ranger...and I have photographic memory." You add, hoping he bites the bait. You can't have Costa in this anymore.

Costa's eyes widen, along with Tom's. Oliver's face changes from anger to impressed.

Nick snarls. "Bullshit," he huffs, glancing at each of them for their reaction.

You raise a brow. "Yeah? I caught one glimpse of your license once, six months ago," you start and he raises a brow, unsure of where you're going. "S51973690. I also know Isaac and Oliver's license number by heart. And every location you've made a deal at. Every face, every plate number that's crossed my path. You think I can't take this all to someone higher and have them hunting you down within the hour?"

Nick's smirk falters, the confidence in his eyes dimming as he weighs your words. The rest of the crew stands frozen, exchanging uneasy glances. Costa's jaw tightens, clearly surprised by your sudden gamble, but he doesn't say a word. Tom's grip tightens on Oliver's gun, keeping it steady on Nick as he watches for any sudden movements.

"You're bluffing," Nick spits, but his voice has lost some of its edge. "You wouldn't anyway. I may go down but two more will take my place. Ronny isn't an idiot. He covers his bases."

You tighten your hold on the gun. You know. That's why you haven't shot him yet.

"So take my offer," you say back, voice firm as your glare. In the corner of your eye, you see Costa's need to argue but you shut him down with a glare. "You leave them out of this, and I'll be your fall guy. It's your choice."

Nick looks at you, his eyes narrowing as he calculates his next move. His fingers twitch, like he wants to call for backup or grab a weapon, but the power has shifted. He knows it, and so do you.

After what feels like an eternity, Nick lets out a frustrated sigh. "Fine," he growls, lowering his hands slowly. "Alright. "

You nod, lowering your gun but keeping your gaze locked on his. "Understood. But if you step out of line, I'll make sure no one comes out clean."

Nick glares at you for a moment longer before signaling for Isaac and Oliver to fall back. You can feel Costa's tension ease beside you, but the air between you all is still thick with distrust. This isn't over, but for now, you've bought them some time.

"We still need someone with a boat–" Nick's eyes flicker to Tom, "to take this shipment."

Tom lowers his gun. "I'll do it." You open your mouth to disagree, but he shakes his head. "Nah, kid, it's just me. No one else will be on that boat but me." He sends a pointed glare to Costa.

Costa lowers his gaze, but you don't miss the frown on his lips. He wants to argue, but he's now selfishly not; for his kid. Finally, you think.

Nick nods then leans to grab Isaac off the ground. The guy grunts as he stands, holding his broken hand close to his chest. He glares at you as they all walk away, sullen and two of the three feeling castrated. As Nick and his crew turn to leave, you glance back at Costa. His face is a mix of relief and concern, but he gives you a slight nod—a silent acknowledgment of what you just did for him.

Tom hands you back Oliver's gun, his eyes filled with questions, but you don't answer any of them. Instead, you tuck it in your waistband and exhale shakily. You may have just stepped deeper into the fire, but at least for now, Costa is safe.

For now, that's all that matters.

\\\\\\

Nick is not one to get revenge. The disrespect he receives, he plans to give back. The same way people say "you get respect when you give respect," is the same way he plans to get back at you.

The plan is simple. Isaac happens to have a piece of technology that can change the traffic lights with the flip of a switch. So, on your way home, you'll end up in a car accident.

Simple and brutal—just the way Nick likes it. The plan would leave no trace back to him, just an unfortunate "accident." A part of him wants to linger behind, so you can see it was him. But he knows you'll get the message. Isaac, always eager to get his hands dirty, agrees without hesitation. There's a sense of thrill in his eyes that sends a chill through anyone who notices.

Oliver being MIA makes things easier for Nick. He knows Oliver wouldn't approve—he's not as cold-blooded. But Isaac? Isaac has no reservations. They don't need Oliver for this. They just need the right moment.

It happens two days later. You're driving home with your nephew in the backseat. He's full of excitement like he always is after a day at the beach. Your sister is in the passenger seat, humming every once in a while to let her son know she's listening.

You're too in your head to focus on what either of them are saying. At this rate, you're just moving by nature. You're used to the drive back to your sister's place after a day at the beach. You can do it with your eyes closed.

As you drive, your nephew's chatter fades into the background, and your sister's humming becomes white noise. Your thoughts circle the events of the last few days, especially Nick's warning glares, and the unease that's been gnawing at you since. You can't shake the feeling that something's off, but you tell yourself it's paranoia.

The intersection ahead is coming up, the same route you've taken countless times. The light turns green, and without hesitation, you begin to drive through.

Then it happens—too fast for you to react.

The flash of headlights to your left, a truck barreling toward you. Your heart jumps to your throat as you slam the brakes, but the truck is moving too fast. The sound of screeching tires and the deafening crash of metal against metal fills the air as the truck slams into the side of your car.

The force sends your vehicle spinning. Glass shatters, your sister screams, and all you can think about is Devin in the backseat. Your hands grip the wheel, trying to regain control, but it's too late. The car skids off the road, coming to a violent halt.

Silence. The world seems to stop for a moment, save for the ringing in your ears and the ragged breaths coming from your chest. You blink, your vision blurry, and then you hear it—your nephew's soft, terrified whimper from the backseat.

Panic floods your body as you struggle to turn around, pain shooting through your side. "Devin," you gasp, your voice hoarse. You see your sister moving, clutching her arm, but she's alive. Devin looks shaken, but unharmed. Relief washes over you.

But as you sit there, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you know—this wasn't an accident. This was Nick.

And as you hear several people around your car asking if you are all okay, you see in the distance the van. The all too familiar van. The windows are tinted but you know he's behind them with a smirk on his lips.

Your teeth grit as you attempt to shove the door open, wanting to chase after him. But you stop the instant you hear your sister stir beside you.

As the sirens get closer, you see the van drive off. You huff out a breath, tired and in pain. You glance up and see a drop of blood roll down your forehead. You look to your sister, guilt rising in your entire system as you see her face with cuts.

Eventually, the ambulance arrives and a paramedic rushes over to help you all out with the help of some firefighters. You urge them to help your nephew and sister out first, and thankfully they listen. But once you're out, adrenaline overcomes you and you feel no more pain.

You decide now isn't the time to face Nick. You ride to the hospital with your sister and nephew, your heart racing as you try to shake off the worry flooding your mind. You watch as the paramedics tend to them, checking for any serious injuries. Devin clutches his mother's hand, wide-eyed but trying to be brave.

"Mom, I'm scared," he whispers, glancing between you and your sister.

"It's okay, buddy. We're going to be just fine," she reassures him, her voice strong despite the pain etched on her face. You feel a surge of protectiveness towards both of them, a fierce determination to keep them safe.

Once inside the ambulance, you sit next to your sister, the paramedic checking your forehead. "Just a small cut, but we'll clean it up," he says, his hands gentle but firm. You nod, barely feeling the sting as he dabs at the blood.

"Where's the driver? Is he okay?" your sister asks, her brow furrowed with concern.

"They're checking him out," the paramedic replies, glancing back at the driver, who is being treated by another team. "You were all very lucky. It could have been much worse."

You don't feel lucky. The image of the van, Nick's smirk, haunts you, reminding you that he's still out there, still a threat. The urge to find him burns in your chest, but right now, you need to focus on your family.

As the ambulance jolts to a stop outside the hospital, you grab your sister's hand. The doors open but you pause to check the surroundings.

Once inside the hospital, the chaos of the emergency room swirls around you. Nurses and doctors bustle about, tending to patients in varying degrees of distress. You're ushered to a waiting area, the bright fluorescent lights harsh against your eyes.

"Devin, I need you to stay close to me," your sister says, her voice steadier now. You watch as she holds onto him tightly, the bond between them a source of strength

As they're taken to a treatment area, you step away for a moment, your heart pounding. You pull out your phone, mind racing with thoughts of how to find Nick. You need to know where he is, how to track him down.

Mabel comes to mind then. He attacked you, got you, your sister and nephew. He can't be after her either. Why would the idiot come after you anyway? You guys made a deal.

As you sit down, staring at the bustling activity around you, you resolve to gather your strength and figure out your next move. Nick thinks he can intimidate you, but he has no idea what you're capable of when it comes to protecting the people you love.

"Hey, are you alright?" a nurse asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You nod, forcing a smile, but inside, you know this isn't over. Not by a long shot.

You stand, grateful for the interruption on your thoughts. "I have to go but my sister and nephew are being treated," you tell her, and she nods to inform you she's listening. "Could you tell her I had to go? I have something to do."

The nurse seems unimpressed, a look of judgement flashes across her face but she's quick to hide it. She nods then walks off in the direction the room your sister is in.

You're rushing out of the hospital, completely missing Mabel's screeching stop as she arrives. You're walking towards your house with determination, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. The weight of what just happened hangs heavy on your chest, but you push it down, focusing on the task ahead. Nick can't be allowed to get away with this.

As you walk, thoughts of Mabel swirl in your mind. The idea of him targeting her ignites a fire within you, fueling your urgency.

The night air is cool against your skin as you approach your house. You glance around, making sure no one is following you. Once inside, you lock the door behind you and immediately head for your room. You need to gather anything you might need—your phone, your knife, your gun, and whatever else you can grab in case you need to make a quick escape.

You sit on your bed for a moment, your heart racing as you pull up Mabel's number. You stare at her number, exhaling a breath as your thumb hovers over the call button. You stop, deciding now isn't the best time to call.

Mabel receives your message as she sits with Devin, his head rested on her shoulder while your sister is getting her wrist splint. With the adrenaline, she hadn't realized it was broken.

I know we aren't talking but...

Are you okay?

Mabel frowns. When she didn't find you in the room with your sister, she assumed you went out to do something stupid. She glances at Devin, who remains sleeping peacefully as if this whole thing didn't just happen.

She's still mad at you. For pushing her away and not fighting for her to stay. But when she heard the news of your crash, she rushed over, her anger disappearing. Here she is now, angry while also worried sick about you.

I'm fine. I'm at the hospital with your sister and nephew. Where are you?

You know where she is. That's all you care about. You lock your phone, choosing not to answer and double check the items you have on you. Once you're done, you head out in search for the bastard.

You don't know where he is but you're going to find out. He's not stupid enough to be at his home but you check there first. You come up empty. So you go to Oliver's place, pounding on his door when you arrive.

You step back, he towers over when he opens the door. He raises a brow and frowns. "You look like shit." He comments.

"Where is he?" You asks, tightening your jaw. He tilts his head in confusion. "Nick. Where is he?" You repeat, voice much harsher than ever.

Oliver's expression shifts from confusion to concern as he takes in your urgency. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since—"

"Since the crash?" you cut him off, frustration boiling over. He's confused again. "He caused an accident, a crash. My sister and nephew were in the car with me." You practically shout.

Oliver's eyes widen. "Is that why you're all fucked up?"

You send him a deadpan glare. "Thanks." You shake your head. "Where is he?"

Oliver shakes his head. He steps back, allowing you to enter his apartment. "Slow down. You need to calm down and think this through. You can't just charge in without a plan."

"Calm down?" you snap, your voice rising. "Did you not hear me? My sister and nephew were in the car! You think I'm going to sit back and wait for him to make his next move?"

Oliver runs a hand through his hair, clearly torn. "Okay, okay. Just give me a second. Let me think." He heads toward his living room, motioning for you to follow.

You huff, watching him search for something. You glance around his living room, eyebrows furrowing. "What were you doing?"

Oliver glances back, looking at you in between his search through some papers. "I wasn't with him," he tells you, returning to what he's doing. "He probably knew I wouldn't help him."

"That's reassuring," you mumble, gripping your side when you feel an ache. You shake it off and exhale a breath.

Oliver pulls a piece of paper out and smiles. "Here." He walks over to you and hands you the paper. "I had to do a run for Ronny, the boss himself. Nick put in a good word for me, the biggest pay day I ever had."

You take the paper, eyeing it. You memorize it then look at him in silent question.

"He should be there. He hides out at Ronny's when he knows he's done something stupid," Oliver tells you. You nod, a grateful look crossing your face. Before you move to leave, he stops you with a stare. "Be careful. I'd go with you but...I told them I'm out. Told them I go back for a tour next week."

You pause, holding his gaze for a moment. "How'd you manage that?" There's a hint of surprise in your voice, but deep down, you're glad to hear it.

Oliver chuckles with a shrug. "I lied." You crack a smile, extending your hand out to him. He takes your hand, gripping it tightly. "But if you need me to stay to help, say the word. I've been wanting to kick his ass for a while now."

You shake your head but you're grateful. "You're done, Cap. Get outta here." You say in your best authoritative voice. He chuckles and releases you, allowing you to leave.

You rush out, trying to figure out the best way to get to this place on foot. You look left then right, before finally coming up with the idea of flagging down a cab. You can't afford to waste time walking, not when every second counts. The streets are still busy enough at this hour, and as luck would have it, a cab pulls up after a few minutes. You hop in, giving the driver the address Oliver gave you.

As the car weaves through the city, you can't stop your mind from racing. You think about your sister, your nephew, and Mabel—everything you've been through and everything you stand to lose if you don't stop Nick. Your hand unconsciously moves to your side, feeling the soreness from the crash.

The cab pulls up a block away from the address, and you pay the driver before stepping out. The area is quiet, too quiet. You can feel the tension in the air, knowing that Nick is nearby, hiding out like the coward he is. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you approach the building. You pull your knife out and grip the handle tightly.

It's an old warehouse, one of those places you wouldn't look twice at. But now, it feels like the center of the storm. You glance around, making sure no one's watching before slipping inside. The place is dimly lit, and you can hear faint voices in the distance. You grip your knife tighter, knowing this could be your only chance to end it.

You move through the shadows, inching closer to the sound of the voices. You spot Nick, laughing with a couple of guys, his back turned to you. The anger bubbles up inside you, but you force yourself to stay calm. You need to wait for the right moment.

But then, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You still, feeling their grip on your shoulder tighten.

"Ahh, the one with the memory, right?" You can smell the smoke on his breath. He allows you turn to face him and he smiles, like he's just seen a long time family member. "Please, join us." He pushes you and you stumble, stepping into the center of the warehouse.

All eyes fall on you and your jaw tightens as Nick smirks in your direction. They knew you were coming.

Nick feigns a grimaces. "Ooh, that looks bad," he jests, earning laughs from the others. "Did you get in a car accident or something?"

You lunge at him but you're stopped by two large men, who grab your arms and hold you back with ease. The knife in your hand clatters to the floor and one of them kicks it off in some direction. The laughter continues as Nick stands there, looking smug and completely in control. His smirk deepens as he steps closer, eyeing you up and down. The men take the chance to disarm you, taking your gun away from you now. They even take your phone from you.

One of the men clicks the lock button and your phone screen brightens, he then shows Ronny the screen.

Ronny brightens. "Aww, you're the one with my precious Mabel Black Label?" Your jaw tightens, the hold on you getting tighter the more you fight. "You know, she's a special one. She helped her mom a lot, made us a lot of money. It was sad to let her go."

Your heart races as Ronny's words sink in. The mention of Mabel, her name coming from his mouth, twists your stomach into knots. You clench your fists, struggling against the iron grip of the men holding you.

"You see, we let her go," Ronny continues, reading over the message on your phone from Mabel. He clicks his tongue three times. "But I'm thinking we made a mistake. Maybe it's kismet, you know? How she always comes back here, like she wants to belong somewhere. And maybe she belongs here...with us."

Nick cracks a smile. "We should be thanking you, Faro." He teases, using your nickname. It sounds like a curse word coming from him.

Your muscles tense against the hold of the two men restraining you. Every fiber of your being wants to tear him apart, but you know you're outnumbered and outgunned.

"Leave Mabel out of this." You get out through gritted teeth, narrowing your eyes.

Ronny frowns, shaking his head. "No. You see, with you two together;" he pauses, pocketing your phone. "The cash flow will be endless. Your memory, her smarts, your fight, her feistiness–I can see it now. We'll own this town by the end of the year."

Your stomach churns as Ronny's words sink in. The thought of Mabel being dragged back into this life makes your skin crawl. You feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you, but you refuse to show weakness.

Ronny pats your cheek gently, then pinches your cheek. "You're like your father. Talked a big game. Said he would have the money by the end of the week, blah blah blah–it was an endless cycle." He shrugs, shaking his head with disappointment.

The mention of your father makes you lower your guard. It always does when these guys mention him. You wanted information on how your father was around them, because you couldn't figure how he got himself in this mess. Sure, there was gambling but...what else?

"Here's the plan," Ronny nods, silently ordering the men to release you. You nearly fall over, but manage to stable yourself to stay standing. "You care about Mabel, I care about Mabel–hell, everyone in this room cares about Mabel, right, guys?"

You flicker your gaze to them all when they nod. You even hear one of them say they saw her take her first steps. Your jaw tightens, feeling overloaded with the need to fight. But this is a lost battle. You know it.

"So, here's the thing," Ronny takes a deep breath. "We got people wanting to shut us down. Cops, they always wanna ruin the party." He scrunches his nose.

You're not sure where this going.

"Find a way in to the police station," he continues, crossing his arms. "Get the list of CIs and UCs because we can't have them ruining our party." He smirks.

Your mind reels as Ronny lays out his twisted plan. He wants you to infiltrate the police station, betray the very people trying to take down his operation. It's a trap, one that pulls you deeper into the criminal underworld you've been trying to escape.

The thought of betraying anyone, let alone risking the lives of cops—people who could be trying to keep Mabel and your family safe—makes your blood run cold. But the weight of Ronny's leverage, the looming threat to Mabel, presses down hard.

"You're insane if you think I'm going to help you with that," you say, your voice steady despite the whirlwind inside.

Ronny smirks, unfazed. "Oh, I know you don't want to do it. But you will. Because if you don't, well..." He glances around at the men before lowering his voice. "Let's just say, Mabel won't have a choice. She'll come back, and she'll come back worse."

Your fists clench as the reality hits you. He's not bluffing. If you don't comply, Mabel will be dragged into this nightmare, and she won't come out the same. You can't let that happen.

"How the hell am I supposed to get in?" you ask through gritted teeth, knowing you're already losing this battle.

Ronny shrugs casually, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. "You've got connections, don't you? Family ties, friends in the right places. You've been around long enough to know how to get what you need."

You want to punch him, break free, anything but play his game. But the threat against Mabel lingers heavy. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. "And what happens when I get the list? You think they're just going to let me waltz out of there with classified information?"

Ronny grins. "You got that memory thing," he taps your forehead and you fight back the urge to slap his hand away. "Get the list, bring it back here or write it down after memorizing it, and you'll never have to worry about us again. No one will touch Mabel, or you, ever again."

You don't trust him, not for a second. But right now, it's the only way to keep Mabel safe.

"And that's it? We're done?" You ask, glancing at all of them.

Ronny shrugs. "She is. You're not." He answers. "Consider it your way of paying her mother's debt off. She tried to do that for a while, in more ways than just running drugs if you know what I mean?"

The men surrounding you laugh and your hands tightened into a fist.

"Get the list and Mabel is safe." You wait to see if he has more to say. He looks around for a second then leans forward. "As for her boyfriend, he's a different story. But it works well for you because you'll have no competition."

You furrow your brows. "Charlie? What does Charlie have to do with any of this?"

"Well, his brother's father killed one of my best," Ronny responds like it's obvious. "Left a woman a widow and a daughter without his father. And well, a daughter needs her father, right?" He sends you a knowing smile.

Your face twists into a snarl, causing him to laugh. He pats your shoulder then reaches for your phone in his pocket. He hands it to you and waits for you to take it.

It's his way of seeing if you'll take his offer.

You hesitate, staring at the phone in Ronny's hand as if it's a loaded weapon. Accepting it means you're agreeing to his twisted deal, putting yourself deeper into this mess. But if you don't, Mabel's life—and now Charlie's—hangs in the balance.

The mention of Charlie's brother, Tom's father gnaws at you. You heard the story. About the old man who shot Weeks dead. He's Tom's father. And the guy is still working with this crew? How much of an idiot are the people in this town.

Right, you're not one to talk.

But now, Ronny's threatening to use that against him, against you all. He's putting more than just Mabel's life in your hands. Charlie warned you. Stay away from Mabel.

You should have listened.

You reach out slowly, gripping the phone as the tension thickens in the room. Your stomach churns, but you force yourself to stay composed. This isn't just about you anymore. It's about keeping Mabel and her friends safe from this maniac.

Ronny smirks as you take the phone, satisfied. "Good. Now, you've got two days. Make it happen, and maybe this all blows over for Mabel. Maybe."

You turn on your heel, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing any more reaction from you. As you head toward the exit, the weight of the situation settles heavy in your chest. You glance back just once, seeing Nick leaning against the wall, smug as ever.

But this isn't over. One way or another, he's going to get what's his from you.

As you step outside, the cool night air hits you, and you finally allow yourself to breathe. You look down at your phone, wondering how you're going to pull this off without losing everything, or worse—without losing Mabel.

~~~~~~

hi, hello,

sorry for the delay on this chapter. I hope you all had a great holiday and have a great new year. my classes started up again and the next couple of chapters may take some time to post as I already have a butt load of homework (and it’s just the first week). thank you guys for liking my writing, all the support actually encouraged me to post this Mabel story so really thank you.

I’ll see you on the next one, thank you!🫶🏼

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #finestkind #mabel (finestkind)#lighthouse #mabel (finestkind) x reader

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sparks-and-smoke · 6 months ago

Note

I was about to send in a request and noticed that I went through your work already because one after another is on my dashboard. So little side note: your work is so damn good, it’s amazing and I really and enjoy and love it.

For the request: how about some sweet mob Bucky? Not sure if you’re up to write mob but I have a soft spot for him so I just ask hehe. Maybe she’s new in town and he visits her little bakery more often than not becuase he takes an interest in her?

Characters/Pairings: Mafia!Bucky x Reader

Content/Warnings: none that I can think of?

Author Note: This took me forever to get too! I am so sorry. Hope you still like it. :) My first time writing mafia. Hopefully I got the tone right.

Direct Benefit

L'endroit Le Plus Doux was one of the only places in this borough that had authentic french pantries. Sure, Bucky could have gone across town. Over to long island or into Manhattan to find the treats he was looking for but he liked to support local. At least that was what he told his men when he saw him coming in week after week with boxes from the same little place in Dumbo. What could he say, he's a giver like that.

It had nothing to do with the sweet thing that worked behind the counter. No, he came here for the Pain au Chocolat, and the Almond Frangipane. Of course. Her sweet smile and innocent giggles are just a lovely by product. He would never admit that he pays you're boss extra to know you're schedule ahead of time, or that he make sure his tips went toward upgrading the floor mats so your feet don't hurt. Or that he paid for new uniforms so you could get out of that hideous orange apron that didn't do you're skin justice. no, keeping his office stocked with delicious fresh pastries was the ultimate goal. Which was why he came in precisely at 8 am every few days, pocket book at the ready to place his order for next week and pick up his goodies himself.

Could he have sent Sam or Steve to do this. Absolutely. Was he going to do that? No. Never, this was his little treat for himself. His own little bubble of happiness. And his men were never going to lay eyes on you until he had you locked down and claimed. Preferably with the deed to this building in your hand and a rather large rock on you're finger.

He lets himself in through the back door of the bakery, not bothering to let Alphonse know he was coming. He owed him enough money keeping this place afloat that he best be on his best behavior all the time.

"Good morning Mon rêve." he greeted, voice warm and dripping with mirth as he watched you, your eyes focused tongue poking out between your teeth as you concentrated on filling tiny copper tins with a thin custard like batter.

"Good morning James." you chimed back but didn't so much as lift you're eyes as you focused on the task at hand. You had been awake since 3 am, in here trying to get this recipes just right in time for the mid morning rush. It wasn't an uncommon bakery schedule. Pastries were often prepped over night so that they were ready for the next day. But this particular addition to the menu was taxing, seeing as you were currently the only chef here that knew how to make them properly. And the bakery had dropped a pretty penny on the tins that allowed them to be made at all.

"Good morning James? Good morning James… that's all I get today?" he grumbled, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he leans on your counter. "That's not very polite of you Mon rêve."

you sigh but still continue to fill the molds. "I'm sorry I would jump for joy but as you can see I am in the middle of something."

Bucky lifts a brow and scans his eyes over the trays of tin molds in front of you, each about the size of the palm of your hand and all made very specifically from copper. "I can see that, but I figured you can at least spare me a glance. I come here very especially for you, you know." When you don't look up he sighs again, his frustration mounting. Picking up one of the molds he turns it over in a tattooed hand. "Is this where all my funding is going. For cute little tins? I would figure Al had better things to spend my money on. Maybe we will have a conversation today…"

Finishing your first few trays you set down your ladles and look over at the moody man who is eyeing your canele mold suspiciously. He looked lovely as always. In a dark impeccably tailored suit and well maintained leather loafers. A simple sliver chain hanging around his neck beneath his maroon dress shirt. And you know as soon as you step close he will smell just as good as he looks. The patron of the bakery, and the man that makes you melt like butter every time he comes in. James Buchanan Barnes.

You don't know what he does, and you've never bothered to ask because judging by the way your boss stumbles over his words and blanches like a sheet every time he stops by, you can assume it's something untoward. "That…" you say leaning forward and taking the tin. " …is a canele mold. And once you try one of mine you will understand why we payed so much for them."

Bucky easily lets go of the little mold but grabs your arm with a swift hand, gently tugging it to his mouth. Placing a tender kiss to you're wrist bellow you're glove. the blush you give him seems to balm whatever irritation he had at his lack of greeting. "He bought the tins for you?"

"Well, sort of, I learned how to make caneles when I studied abroad. They are my favorite treat from Paris, but they are really hard to make and not a lot of people know how. So, when I mentioned that we should add them to the rotation because they are rare in the area and might bring traffic in. Alphonse dropped some cash to add to may collection of tins so I didn't have to bring my own."

Bucky listened intently as always. It was like every time you spoke his attention whittled down to you and you alone. It was insanely hot. Not that you've ever told him. "Well, in that case. He can spend however much he wants."

You rolled your eyes, but Bucky was serious. Alphonse knows that his funding comes with two caveats.The first being that all his money had to directly benefit you in someway with receipts. And the other being that he turns a blind eye to how much time he spends back here flirting with his favorite pastry chef. "I think I need to try one of these, what do you call them, Caneles…"

You smile, knowing that he would insisted on a bite. He always did. Every knew confection and treat was ran by Bucky. If nothing else because he was always here when they hit the cooling rack. "They are a simple custard like pastry, but they are baked in these tins with a coating of beeswax and butter that give them a texture unlike anything else." You explain, leading him over to a rack full of the little bunt looking pastries. "I have done three flavors for this first trial run. Classic vanilla, a coco variation, and a matcha which I think will sell well with younger patrons."

"You have put a lot of thought into these little chef." Bucky watches the way you move. Even in your uniform you are stunning. The sway of you're hips, the lilt of you're voice, the passion you put into everything you do. It sets him on fire. It makes him want to dominate that passion and bring it to heel just for him. To hone it and condense it, and demand its full focus.

"Well like I said, they are my favorite." You chatter on, unaware of the laser like focus of the man behind you. Looking you over like you are the most delicious thing in this kitchen. "What flavor do you wanna try."

"Vanilla, have to start with the classic so you know where to go from there." the innuendo seemed to go over your head as you popped one into your hand.

"Here you go." You hand every intention of handing him the treat but when you turned to face him Bucky was far closer than intended. His tongue darting out over his full bottom lip before dipping into take a bite out of the treat in your hand with a definitive crunch. You pause as you watched his calloused finger wipe away the crumbs from his mouth with low moan of appreciation.

"Delicious, as always." he purred, so close you could almost feel the rumble of his chest. "You should try a bite, Mon rêve."

Plucking the pastry from you're hand he held it out to you're mouth. The sweet smell of honey and brown butter mixing with the subtle notes of lemon and sage in his cologne. Your body trapped between the warmth of him and the cold metal of the cooling rack as you parted your lips to let him slide the treat inside. You had tried them already, you have to while baking for quality assurance but… this one seemed to melt in you're mouth as you drowned in the icy blue pools off his gaze. Unwavering, instances, and completely trained on you.

You hadn't realized how long you had been staring when you heard Bucky speak again. "Are you going to swallow?"

That time the insinuation was too blatant to ignore as you pushed the pastry down, covering your mouth as your ears burned hot red.

"Good girl."

#bucky barnes #sparks picks up #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #mafia au #mafia!bucky barnes x reader

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clangpan · 1 year ago

Text

Dashboard Unfucker v6.1.0

Hello, I have upgraded the script into a state I can call fully functional again!

Depending on your extension settings, you might get a notification for the update automatically, otherwise either go into the dashboard and click on the update button, or reinstall the script from Github

The OTD UserStyle is not longer a dependency, please disable it as it WILL cause broken formatting

Some features are also gone semi-permanently, just because they cannot be made functional in a simple manner again due to changes to Tumblr's internals. If I get enough requests, I'll consider adding them back, but it will take a bit of time

Enjoy!

#clangpan.txt #dashboard unfucker #and for those that wonder. no I did not take code from the UserStyle. Tumblr has a flag to revert to the old layout #I just needed to find a way to enable it #dev

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madhatterbri · 7 months ago

Text

She's With Me Now | Hangman A.P.

Summary: Adam has to remind Y/N's ex who she is with now.

Author's Note: I see him in a week. 😭

Happy Saturday Night Collision, babes. 🫶

Hangman Adam Page Masterlist

AEW Masterlist

Taglist: @smallestsnarkestgirl @theworldofotps @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts @hodgepodge-musings

"Who is it, darling?" Adam asked as he felt his girlfriend tense against him. They were just making out in his truck when her phone started to vibrate.

She sighed softly and showed him the phone. Her ex-boyfriend's name appeared on the screen. Adam stared at the screen. The man would never get the hint. The cowboy took the phone from her and pressed to accept the call.

"I knew you would eventually pick up. Do you miss me?" He asked.

"Well, she was just making out with me in my truck. She's currently sitting on my lap. I don't think she missed you too much," Adam answered. Y/N pressed her hands over her mouth to suppress a giggle.

There was a long pause on the phone. The young couple thought that he had hung up. When he started to curse, Adam sat the phone down on the dashboard.

"Come here. Where were we?" He asked. His lips connected to hers. He pressed her body to his. A trail of kisses were left from her mouth to the sweet spot by her ear. She gasped and moaned softly.

The screaming on the phone intensified. Adam smirked and grabbed the phone. She shook her head to get him to stop.

"Hey, hey, hey.... Calm down. She told me she used to have to fake it a lot. I'm just showing her how a man gets his girl going," he told him. Y/N was sure the man would die on the phone.

"Alright, listen, yeah, you can kick my ass, but just lay in your mom's basement, and now she got a major upgrade.... I am going to make love to her now,"

Adam hung up the phone and blocked his number. His hands snaked behind her body. Y/N was with him now, and nothing was going to change that.

#Spotify #aew fanfiction #aew fanfic #fanfiction #hangman adam page fanfiction #hangman adam page fanfic #hangman adam page x reader #hangman adam page x y/n #hangman adam page x female reader

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saintslewis · 2 years ago

Text

“𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐈𝐓”

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

˖ ࣪⭑ pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc

˖ ࣪⭑ summary: didn’t lewis say he’s a professional dancer? let’s test it out!

˖ ࣪⭑ warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions (the norm), links to posts, typos

˖ ࣪⭑ wc: 4.7k

˖ ࣪⭑ saint’s team radio!: hi babies….SORRY Y’ALL LMAO. i clearly skipped the 10 day mark but that’s okay! that’s why i made it longer for y’all to enjoy! I hope you enjoy and once again, tags are down below and let me know if you want to be tagged! and pls do click on the links to see the visuals, it’s important! (you can do it after)

pls like, comment and reblog!

renaissance:the series masterlist • previous chapter

general masterlist

The FaceTime ring chimed as Nadia adjusted her phone on the dashboard of her car, her cradled body in the driver's seat as she sniffled and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

"Yo. What's-" Lewis made sure to look at his phone correctly to see the sight before him. "Nads? Are you okay? Where are you?" Lewis asked, slowing the car down a bit.

"I'm in the school parking lot with some pastries next to me." She sniffed again before continuing. "Like I don't know if I can even go in there after our posts because those kids are ruthless and also these pastries are so good and this car is giving me so much stress and you're so pretty and i can't get raye tickets and this wig didn't wanna lay this morning and jeez, it's just so much and i'm just a girl." Nadia rambled as she hid her face in her hands, not even looking at her phone.

"Sorry to call you so early but I had no one else to call so I just decided to call my husband. Do you wanna see the pastries? This girl gave them to me for free in the bakery." She spoke, tucking her hair behind her ear and grabbing the pink box to show Lewis, not missing how big his smile was.

"What?"

"Nads, do you wanna talk about it? There's a lot to unpack." He asked, his face holding a smug expression as he watched her place the box down and give him a look.

"No thanks, we can keep everything in the bag. Anyways, I'm the only one in the parking lot and I've got a class in 25 minutes but I don't wanna see my colleagues." She said, looking out of her window to see if anyone was lurking around. "Where you headed?" She snapped her attention back to him.

"Brackley. Got a meeting with the team for upgrades." He said, eventually speeding up the car and she nodded. "Okay don't go quiet on me. Have you checked your socials yet?" Lewis asked the girl. "Nope, I muted the app after Rihanna called me sexy." She replied with a big smile on her face, making him jokingly roll his eyes. "I'm assuming you did the same?" She asked and it was his turn to nod.

"So just to make you aware, I'm free on Wednesday after 12 so if your friends are available maybe we can meet them then?" Nadia suggested, packing her stuff up as she sat properly in the car seat. "Uh I'm sure they'll be cool with that. We can have a thing at my place, like a game night or something. Also why are you leaving work early that day?" He asked, stopping at a red light and put all his attention on her.

"School's are closing for like two weeks." She answered.

"Well then, have you ever been to Miami?"

"No..." she gave him a side eye as he continued to drive, the engine roaring.

"Well, we're going there next week for the Grand Prix so do you want to go? Then afterwards we leave for Malibu."

"But what if I wanted to watch Love Island during that weekend?" She muttered, making the man giggle.

"You can watch Love Island in Miami." He smiled, seeing her jokingly roll her eyes. "Fine. But wait, who do I need to speak to for like flight tickets and race stuff?" She mentioned.

"Tia'll have everything ready." He assured her, kind of surprised at how willingly she agreed to his proposal, something he had been nervously thinking about the whole morning.

"Alright then, pookie bear. Talk later, I have to face those ruthless critics i call my kids." She picked up her phone and did a little pose, to which Lewis didn't hesitate to take a Facetime photo of. They both waved at each other cutely before hanging up.

"You're the flyest babe on the planet, you can do this." Nadia hyped herself as she gathered her things and got out of her car.

The hallways were empty, the silence gnawing at her as she glanced through some doors to see students either sleeping on their desks or actually focused on what the teacher was saying.

Continuously taking deep breaths as she got closer and closer to her designated classroom, she could hear her Year 12 students talking about whatever gossip was going around the school. Goosebumps slightly covered her skin as she held her arm out to touch the door handle, her conscience screaming at her to turn around and drive home just to stress about this very situation.

Eventually gaining the confidence, she opened the door and it was as if the world stood still. All her students turned around to look at their frightened yet fashionable teacher slowly walk to her desk as she tried her hardest to not make any eye contact with their smug faces.

Placing her things down onto her little shelf next to her organised desk, she flipped her hair a little and walked to the front of her desk, leaning her whole body weight against it.

"Now before you lot start with your questions, just know I wasn't ready to be out there yet and truly, I wanted to tell you guys a while ago but now was a good time for the..launch." She announced and watched as her students continued to smirk at her, her heartbeat rising as the silence grew more and more.

"Can we see the ring?" A student, Daniela, asked loudly as she walked closer to her teacher. The minute Nadia extended her shaky hand out, they all came flocking to get a closer look at the diamond ring.

Eventually settling the class down with the fear that the Headmaster could just pop in, everyone was seated as Nadia was racking her brain on how she could sell this marriage to teenagers who could definitely see right through her.

"So how did you two meet then? You mentioned that you were from Stevenage like a while back." Vicky, the class leader, asked sitting in the front row and maintained eye contact with Nadia the whole time.

"Well it was our parents actually. They're all really close but Lewis and I never built that bond for all these years. It took a dinner invite from his parents for us to really fancy each other. We properly met the year I started teaching here." Nadia was cheesing, proud of the story she came up with that was half-true.

She could tell that their gears were turning in their heads, making comments to each other as if they were judges on a panel. Nadia hadn't expected the silence that would follow after each of her answers but it was quite unsettling.

"Since you said you weren't seeing anybody and you weren't the least bit interested in Formula one, how'd you end up with thee Sir Lewis Hamilton?" One of her male students asked from the back, Nathan. "I'm still very clueless about that sport and that's why I wanted you guys to teach me today. Can I count on you guys to help?" Nadia asked, pulling her chair closer to her desk as she clasped her hands together to look around her classroom to capture all the excited faces.

"James, where's the slideshow?!" "Ha! Give me my money." "We used to pray for times like this!" "Wait till Miss hears about brocedes!"

Those were amongst the shouts from her students, reminding her that she couldn't leave them alone even if she wanted.

Interrupting her train of thought as her students scrambled around the classroom, her phone buzzed with two notifications following each other. Opening her phone and heading for iMessages, she audibly gasped when she saw what Lewis had just sent her.

"What are you blushing at, Miss?" A kid pointed out, Nadia not even realising she was smiling quite hard at her phone.

"Do you want to teach me about F1 or should we go back to the French Revolution?" She sassed, making the class groan as they all somewhat surrounded a desk and whiteboard for her F1 lesson.

WEDNESDAY.

Holding the tub of cookies close to her, she thought back to the previous days and what her students informed her about the sport. As much as she can admit that she had forgotten most things they told her, a few thoughts lingered in her mind throughout the days, her emotions were on all time high for the man she married. Not wanting to come to one sided conclusions, Nadia decided to address these issues with Lewis when the time was right.

It doesn't help that she, once again, went down a rabbit hole of Lewis to see what his fans were like and how they thought of him from their perspective.

A knock from her front door snapping her out of her head, standing to open it up. Lewis stood there dressed ever so casually with a graphic tee and shorts paired with high top Jordans. Nadia would never say it out loud but seeing him wearing a cap, be it in a picture or right in front of her, brought slight butterflies to her stomach.

"The person who handles security downstairs is really looking out for you. Also, hello Nads." He smiled as he brought his hands forward to show a pink box with croissants inside, Nadia's heart melting, he remembered that she said she likes this specific bakery when they first met.

"Lewis, you didn't have to. Thank you." She said patting him on his exposed arm, wanting to keep her hand there for a little longer. "Hello to you too. Why do you say that about the guards?" She asked, taking the box of pastries from his hand and cradling it close to her, walking into her small kitchen to place them next to the flowers from the weekend.

"Well, when I drove in, he warned me about all the people who came to the entrance overnight. Apparently, they would go from building to building looking...for you." He said, slowly closing the front door as he walked into her home.

The goosebumps were very evident, her tattoos eerily coming to life with fear. "O-oh. Tia did warn me about this, just never expected this so early on." Nadia nervously smiled, the multiple locks on her door not enough to make her feel safe. "Hey hey, it's okay. I know this is overwhelming. Would you be more comfortable with a few of my security guys to be around until you make your moving decisions?" He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. Seeing how scared she was and how she seemed to be overthinking it, he desperately wanted to change the subject.

Choosing to not answer verbally, she nodded and gave the man a small smile as she lifted herself off her kitchen counter. "Let's get the negatives out," Nadia sighed out. "Let me get my shoes and phone then we can get to your place in time. You can wait on the couch for now." She turned around, looking straight ahead as she headed for her bedroom.

Taking the invitation, Lewis made his way to the comfortable looking grey couch. Beneath his feet sat a custom carpet in the shape of the infamous Murakami flower logo, a small smile etched on his face. The living room filled with all types of scented candles and incense sticks, two plants on either side of the tv stand. A full length mirror hung on the wall right in between the kitchen and living room, the arch of it filled with star stickers. A few vinyls were plastered onto the wall behind him with something written underneath each one and a custom piece of art sat in between the black discs, a painted picture of two people hugging with matching NY caps on. The little signature at the bottom spelling out 'Rea' and tiny initials signing 'R + N'.

Oh, the guilt sunk in quite quickly in those few moments as he observed a small part of her home. That's exactly what it was to Nadia, her home. Purely hers. Everything in his sight clearly held a special significance to the woman and because of his situations, he was taking that away from her. Her 'best teacher' pillows sat neatly on the couch, definitely gifted to her by her students that she loved. The picture frames and polaroids sat nicely on the side table, Nadia's smile wide and bright as she had stood with family and posed wildly with her friends.

His scandalous decisions had roped in a woman who looked like she had finally found her own way in life and he was taking that away from her. Everything she had worked for would be reduced to just being known as his wife. The thought making him cringe as he could picture the headlines.

Nadia fixed her shoelaces quickly as she found Lewis sitting on her couch staring at nothing, his arm sat high on the edge of the couch. "Lew? Are you okay?" The woman's soft voice went into his ear, his head turning to see her ready to go. The Barcelona jersey untucked, her jean shorts displaying the very few tattoos she had on her legs and the gold anklet contrasting with the stark white appearance of her Air forces.

"I know we're about to leave but do you mind if we talk a bit?" He asked, sitting on the edge of the couch and clasping his hands together. "What? You about to divorce me already?" Nadia joked but seeing him give the smallest smile only for it to fade away slightly scared her. Going to sit next to him, she sat one of her pillows over her lap and leaned on her elbows to hear what he had to say.

"Are you truly sure about this marriage? I feel like everything's just hitting you all at once and I feel bad. It feels as if I'm taking away your independence all because of stupid things people have said about me. I looked around and you already made a life for yourself and I don't want to do anything to hurt you." Lewis confessed, hands constantly fidgeting with the rings he had on. He was so sure that he would see her agree with him but seeing her downward smile surprised him.

"We already signed the papers, Lew, and it's going to sting you like a bee if we even think of letting this go. From my perspective, we're two people who are building a friendship who just happen to be married. I still am anxious about leaving my life behind but one thing I won't allow for myself is to be deduced to be someone's wife, no offence." She stated, seeing him nod.

Breathing in a little before continuing, she sat a bit comfortably on the couch facing him. "This is a very weird situation, one that not a lot of people go through but we're learning and that's the cool part. You and I have lived incredibly different lives and there's a reason why our lives are intertwining so much. I just ask for some time to figure out how to live in the limelight, right now I'm grateful for the journey. Except for the ysl heels, those bitches are uncomfortable." Nadia laughed a little, ending her sentence with a joke. He giggled along, his eyes crinkling with the left eye closing a bit more than the other. It was such an adorable sight to see.

"I appericiate the honesty, Nads. It's something that's been on my mind for quite some time and to hear you voice it out lifts some weight off my shoulders." Lewis chuckled, the sight of her smile was one he wanted to keep in his mind forever.

"Glad I could help, pookie bear. Tell me, do your friends like cookies? I made a bunch yesterday because I was stress baking." She asked, standing up and walking towards the kitchen. The nickname clearly sticking to him but he didn't mind, it was special.

"It would be weird if they did not like cookies. They smell good too." He complimented, unconsciously jingling the car keys in his hands. "Thank you, also made them vegan friendly." Nadia smiled, picking up the plastic tub and headed for the front door. Lewis couldn't control his eyes as they fell to her retreating figure, little peaks of more tattoos showed under the hems of her shorts. Taking a breath in, he walked towards her as she fiddled with her keys with the front door open.

"Oh my god, Tia sent a list of people she picked out for my team." Nadia gasped, tugging on the red seatbelt of the Range Rover a bit while going through her texts with Tia to see random faces with all their details laid on text.

"Really? That was fast." He said, one hand on the steering wheel with the other resting on his leg. He turned into an avenue, the car's engine roaring through the quiet street as they passed by homes that were hidden behind large gates and trees.

The pair spent the whole 35 minute journey just jamming out to their scarily similar music taste and getting a few snacks for the game night that'll be held, Nadia not realising that she's actually becoming famous because multiple people recognised her and asked for pictures. Once she got back into the SUV, she laughed about the situation until tears came out.

"They all look around my age or a bit younger, oh this is some scary shit." She joked as she looked through everyone's photos, to which Tia then said that Nadia will meet everyone in Miami before Lewis' media duties.

"And when are you meeting them?" Lewis asked, slowing the car down and turning into a driveway before stopping in front of the large gate. "Miami" She muttered. Pressing a button somewhere, the gates opened to quite the driveway with the motor court right in front of the large modern home. The beat of the song completely changed as the house came into view, Nadia taken aback at the visuals in front of her and she completely understood why the trees were hiding such a masterpiece behind them.

In the motor court, there stood a black Mercedes Benz amg gle coupe and an arctic grey Porsche 992 Turbo S outside of the garage looking fresh out the dealership. "My God..." Nadia muttered as she covered her mouth at everything she was seeing. Lewis definitely loved seeing Nadia astonished and excited at everything he's shown her so far.

Parking the Range Rover next to the Porsche, the two got out of the car and grabbed their belongings along with the snacks they bought earlier. "Is anyone else here yet?" She asked, only carrying her tub of cookies whilst Lewis carried everything else.

"Nope, just us. Was thinking of showing you around the house, just to get used to it." He smiled and slightly giggled at the side eye she gave him. "Now now, pookie bear. I still have to decide. But let's put the stuff inside." She smiled at him and watched as he opened the door with his fingerprint.

The moment she entered the massive house, her breath was taken away by the beauty of the foyer alone.

"So which floor do you wanna start with?" He asked, leading her into the living area, the kitchen space looking like it came out straight from the magazine. Looking to her left, she looked at the abnormally large garden with so many chill spots and what looked to be a tennis court.

"And this is all yours?" Nadia was stunned to say the least. The amount of luxury surrounding her was staggering and she wanted to hide within herself, scared to even comment until Lewis answered her question.

"Well, it's ours now that we signed on the dotted line."

And it's safe to say that the cookies surprisingly weren't dropped onto the floor.

Walking outside the home to marvel at the creation before her, Lewis followed right behind and watched her take it all in. "Are you able to take one more surprise? I think the closet did it for you." He grinned. His hands were behind his back as always and she looked back at him with a smile.

"You've done so much for me already, Lew. What could possibly top the Harrods trip." She asked, hands on hips while slightly joking. His smile grew even more as the butterflies in his stomach reacted to the nickname.

"How about a car? Would that be better than Harrods?" He asked, mischievously putting his finger on his chin as if he's thinking. Nadia's eyes widened for the upteenth time, her hands flying to cover her mouth.

"Are you fucking with me right now? Lewis, I swear if you're joking, I'm going to kick you in the ass." She exclaimed as the man held out different keys in his hand, the smile never leaving his face.

"Lewis whatever your middle name is Hamilton, are you serious? I'm going to fucking cry, oh my god." Nadia's voice was already quivering but she refused for her tears to fall.

"Wait no don't, you said that they would ruin your lashes." Lewis genuinely wanted to laugh at her reaction but he felt so happy that he could do this for her and hopefully get her used to it.

"First it was the Raye tickets then the croissants then an entire car? Not to mention the new shit I got. Oh this is gonna be so fun." Finally uncovering her mouth, they both smiled at each other then laughed. "Let's go look at it, Nads, before everyone gets here." He suggested and like lightning, the girl was already standing next to the car and was eagerly waiting for it to open.

"My God, Lewis! You didn't tell me she was so beautiful. Like crazy beautiful." Currently, Nadia was being cradled in the arms of one of Lewis' closest friends, Amara.

Standing in the entryway of the house, everyone exchanged greetings and hugs as the friend group hadn't seen each other in a long time. Moments before, the pair watched as cars rolled in the motor way as each of his friends climbed out of their cars hyped as ever, carrying different things in their hands.

" 'Mara, if i could kindly have Nads back, I can finally introduce you guys." Lewis jokingly rolled his eyes at his friend who didn't want to let go but eventually did.

"Guys, this is Nadia. Nads, this is my crew. We've got Miles," He pointed at the tall man with the brightest smile she's ever seen. "Amara, who's cradled you just now," The woman waved to Nads who definitely returned the energy.

"Charlotte, who threatened to sue if she didn't meet you," Lewis then pointed to the woman standing next to Amara, she was as stunning as ever. "Daniel or 'Spinz' if you will." Another man smiled at her, tilting his cap like a cowboy. "Andrew, and right next to him is Natalia." He ended off by pointing at the two right next to Daniel.

"Nice to meet you all, I'm Nadia as you know." She shyly greeted back, never the one to introduce herself as much. Everyone spoke at the time, patching the words together to say that they're delighted to meet her.

"Uh, we've got snacks in the kitchen and the games are set up in the living room already." Nadia suggested as she pointed behind her, not even realising that Lewis' arm was around her shoulders the whole time.

"Oh please lead the way." Natalia piped up as walked over to hold Nadia's hand and walk to the kitchen, the rest of the woman following suit and immediately started complimenting the woman.

Deciding that they would tell their friend groups the truth about their marriage, Nadia and Lewis happily agreed to their plan and it most definitely seemed to work.

"God damn, your parents chose good, man. The Barcelona jersey and she's just a teacher? Can your parents hook me up because damn." Daniel spoke up, shocked at Nadia's appearance knowing that his friend barely explained how she looks.

"And don't even get me started on the tattoos, Spinz. I'll call my dad for you though!" Lewis laughed as he walked away, the rest of his mates laughing, walking towards the living area.

An hour into the game night, Nadia and Lewis had won both boards games, celebrating as if their favourite team won the league. The atmosphere was light, conversations flowing as music played in the background, well that was until 'Love Is Wicked' by Brick and Lace started playing and that's when the nostalgia hit.

It was as if everyone lost their minds, immediately clearing the space to dance. Somehow, Lewis and Nadia found sunglasses and started dancing together. Amara being the friend who films everything, filmed the two having the time of their lives. Lewis trying to copy her dance moves whilst they both sung incoherent lyrics to the song, laughter spreading while the songs played out loud.

The song switched to 'Work' by Rihanna and the girls went crazy. Moving the party to the outside porch for fresh air and more space, the well light outside lights lit quite well. The girls were moving the hips to the beat, shaking ass nah chance they get. Nadia being the dancer here, just wowed the girls even more, hyping her up so much that the boys included themselves in the dance and they eventually created an unforgettable night hanging out and laughing until the moon rose.

"So, how was it?" Lewis asked, laying next to Nadia on a blanket on the grass. The rest of the crew were laying on the other blankets across the large backyard, resting after an intense game of hide n seek. "I haven't had this much fun in quite a while. It felt nice to feel like kids, just having a good time. Once again, thank you. For this, the Porsche that i still can't believe is mine, even the ring that I stare at all day." Nadia expressed, lifting her hand to look at the ring once more.

"If you need or want anything, don't hesitate to let me know and I'm very serious, Nadia." Lewis said, turning his head to see her staring up at the night sky.

"You're bluffing." She scoffed until she turned to see his face, a raised eyebrow as he stared at her. "Anything?" She asked.

"Anything." He scrunched his nose a little, the diamond studs glistening under the moonlight.

"New wig? With a new bracelet?" She turned her entire body to face him, leaning her head in her hand.

"Done." He smiled. "Although that was severely underwhelming, bruv." He said, turning on his back once.

The two shared a loud laugh afterwards, their laughs travelling to the moon that watch over them.

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @folkloresthings @tispys-blog @userlando @lorarri @thisismeracing @thatsdemko @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @roseseraj @vsfavs @goldenleclerc @mistruscity

(if your blog is blank, that means tumblr couldn’t find you! :( I’m sorry!)

dividers by: @cafekitsune

pics: pinterest and ig

Nadia’s fc: @/unclewaffles on ig!

#☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #formula one x reader #x black reader #f1 x you #f1 x black!reader #f1 x oc #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfic

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darknight3904 · 1 year ago

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so american

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴏɴ ᴠᴀᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴍᴀʟᴀʏꜱɪᴀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴍᴀʀʀʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ. ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ɪꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇx ɢᴇɢᴇ ᴡʜʏ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇᴛ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴀʟᴀʏꜱɪᴀ??

ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴ ʙʏ ᴏʟɪᴠɪᴀ ʀᴏᴅʀɪɢᴏ.

ꜱᴏʀʀʏ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴ….

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2ᴋ

ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Kuantan, Malaysia

Vacation Day 5:

"Your English is really great." You compliment

"Thank you, I spent a lot of time in my early twenties practicing." The man next to you says

The hot sun that dances above is blocked by a pretty blue umbrella that your new companion got to stand up correctly. A half-melted drink rests in the sand next to your bag.

You met Nanami on the first day of your vacation while you were struggling to communicate with the woman who was working at the front desk of your hotel. He had smoothly cut in and easily translated your choppy Malay to something more fluent and even got you a room upgrade in the process. Originally, you had just planned to buy him dinner as a thank you but here you were, day five of vacation and you were still hanging out with him.

"You look good like that." He compliments

"Like what?" You laugh thinking of how sunburned you were

"With my shirt on." He explains, reaching out to tug gently at the sleeve of his soft linen beach shirt. He had let you borrow it after seeing how red your shoulders had become.

"Oh, right, duh." You smile, avoiding his gaze.

Was he even aware of how flirtatious he had been the past few days? You swore his pretty face and warm compliments would turn you into a puddle of love-sick embarrassment before you left this country. He reminded you of one of those men you only hear about in books or in cheesy one lined poems about love.

"It's getting late. Would you like to go to get dinner? I know a great market nearby, it has delicious street vendors." He asks

"Sure!" You smile jumping up off your towel to pack up your things while Nanami pulls the umbrella out of the sand.

You struggle to slip out of his shirt, your shoulders are burning from the sunburn.

"Keep it. I've got another in the car." He says pulling it back up over you, " You look pretty in it anyway."

You're mesmerized by the blonde as he drives down the road. Warm air from the open windows pushes your hair from your eyes as you eye the way his arms flex slightly when he takes a turn.

"You're quiet today. Normally you're full of jokes." He says

Crap. You can't admit that you've been ogling him all day!

"I...my back has been hurting."

What the hell was that?!

"Ah. You should've told me earlier, we could've rented those chairs." He says, referring to the overpriced chairs that were for rent on the beach.

"It's alright. Those are just tourist traps anyway." You dismiss

"We're both tourists." He reminds you

"I know..." You roll your eyes

"Put your feet up, I heard that can help with pain."

Your face heats up when he stops the car at an intersection and gently pulls your feet up so they rest on the dashboard. So touchy, you swear he's doing all this on purpose!

"Better?" He asks

"Yup!" You smile

Silence settles around you as you try not to treat the man next to you like eye candy. In defense, it's not your fault. Who knew driving could be so attractive? It didn't help that he hadn't put that extra shirt on yet...

"Tell me a joke." He prompts

Who did he think you were, a stand-up comedian?

"Umm...Why did Darth Vader go to the dermatologist?" You ask

"Why?" Nanami responds, a hint of amusement in his voice

"He had Start Warts." You say

You hear him let out a snicker of laughter and you feel your face heat up out of embarrassment.

"It was the best I could do cold turkey okay!" You groan

Nanami had been right about the market and the street vendors. You had never seen so much delicious-looking food at once. How did he know so much about this place? According to him, he had only been in Kuantan two days before he met you.

"So," You smile as you pop a delicious bite of food into your mouth "Do you always look like this or is this a special version of Nanami?"

You're referring to his relaxed appearance. Long blonde hair slightly hides his eyes and the top view buttons of his shirt are undone. His skin is tanned from all the time spent on the beach at your side and a pair of sunglasses sit in the pocket that's sewn onto his shirt.

"I actually wear suits most of the time when I'm back home." He says

Seriously? He hides this muscular build under suits every day? The poor women of Japan, they don't know what they're missing!

"No way!" You laugh

"I'm serious." He says, and he takes his phone out and pulls up a few pictures of him and a kid with pink hair at his side.

"Wow. You uh, look..." You don't want to tell him he looks like he has a stick up his ass...

"Stoic, I know." He says "I like to think Itadori brightens this picture up though."

You look at the pink-haired boy, Itadori, who is holding up double peace signs and looks like a ray of sun next to the stoic Nanami.

"He definitely makes up for your lack of smile." You tease, poking at his cheek as he brushes your hand off his face

"Well, I had good reason to not smile. The person taking this picture is the most- speak of the devil."

A chime interrupts his sentence and you look down at the phone to see a push notification.

Satoru Gojo

Shoko is going through old pics, check this one out, you were so cute, Nanamin!

Another ding sounds and your eyes widen to see a picture appear at the top of the screen.

Nanami tries to snatch his phone off the table but you get there first and open the message from this Satoru Gojo.

"Is this you in high school?!" You gasp seeing the picture in all its glory as you tap on it

You take the blushing and silence as a yes.

"Your bangs!" You laugh

"I know, it's bad. I don't know what I was thinking." He admits sheepishly

"I think it's kinda cute." You admit, "It kinda reminds me of an emo haircut."

"I wasn't emo." He says

"You sure? Those bangs aren't very convincing..." You laugh "Not to metnion you're not smiling here either...kinda seems emo to me!"

"I wasn't!" He groans, finally reaching successfully for his phone "I wasn't emo...I'm not emo."

You laugh at the way he texts this Satoru Gojo back with a scowl on his face.

"You should tell this person my opinions of your hair." You say

"So he can call me an emo when I get back? I don't think so. Nice try though." Nanami says gently tapping his shoe against yours under the table

Vacation Day 6:

You agree to Nanami's suggestion of a nice stroll through the lit-up city. City lights twinkle against the dark sky as you see the shops and karts selling different goods. You pick up the goofiest-looking plushies and make up different voices for each of them as Nanami watches and laughs.

"Wait, stop for a second." He says suddenly

"Hmm? Do you want one of those weird charms? They don't really seem like they're your style." You say, distracted by the store he's stopped you in front of.

A soft tickle on your leg brings your attention downward and you see something you're not expecting. Nanami is down on one of his knees tying the laces on your left sneaker. His blonde hair is brushing your knee as he finishes up.

"I didn't want you to trip." He says gently patting the back of your calf as he straightens back up

"Oh, thank you." You say, trying to ignore how warm his hands felt against your leg.

You're a mess internally as you try to keep cool when he continues to walk. If he keeps this up you're going to end up in love with him before this trip was over...wait...has that been his goal the whole time? It couldn't possibly be.

"Could I ask you a question?" Nanami asks when you finally get yourself together

"Sure." You say

"Are those red cups I see in movies actually a real thing where you come from?"

That's his question? Why would Solo cups not be a real thing?

"Umm of course!" You laugh at his dorky question, "Did you think they were fake?"

"I just thought it was strange that everyone drank from red cups at parties." He shrugs

"Well, for your information, Nanami I've been to multiple parties and drank from a red cup like in the movies." You say

"Interesting." He says, his body gently bumping into yours when you get a little too close, "You can call me Kento."

"I thought in Japan you were supposed to call a person by their last name." You say

"Well, yes that's for formality." He says, "I think we're familiar with each other though, we've been around each other for six full days now."

"Alright then, Kento." You smile, testing his first name out on your tongue

You want to laugh when Kento drags you into a tie shop. He must want something fun to wear to work when he gets home. You suggest multiple different kinds that are ridiculous and would probably get him fired. Your personal favorite? The one with the huge eagle with a snake in his talons. It was just too ridiculous to be real. Honestly it reminded you of things you'd see back home. It was just missing the signature red white and blue.

"Here, switch places with me." Kento says as you exit the store and get back on the sidewalk

"What? Okay." You agree

You don't miss the way he smiles to himself when he gets what he wants. Does he have a preferred side of the sidewalk or something? Who enjoys being on the side closer to the road? What a weird man.

Vacation Day 7:

"You're really strange sometimes." You observe

"How so?" He asks as he bites into a cookie

"You were fully content just wandering into my hotel room. What if I was an axe murderer?" You ask

It was a rainy day in Kuantan. There were road closures and a few downed trees nearby so you had invited Kento to spend the day with you in your hotel room. The two of you were wrapped in fuzzy bathrobes and had just polished off an excellent room service meal that he had insisted on paying for despite you insiting that it was payment for driving you around.

"I knew you weren't though." He says

"And if I was?" You ask

"I would be disappointed and then I'd try to fight you and your axe off." He says

"What if I was too strong?" You joke

"I doubt it." He laughs as he flexes one of his arms.

There isn't much to look at because of the bathrobe that conceals his arms from your greedy eyes but you swear you can see a bit of definition under all the fuzzy material.

"Whatever..." You mumble

His stupidly pretty face is making you say dumb things. Who talks about axe murderers with such a good looking man in their bed? You were surely the biggest idiot in all of Malaysia.

"I thought you said this was a good movie," Kento says

"It is! You just need to give it a chance!" You say

"We're already ten minutes in and the only jokes they've made are about sex and drugs." Kento points out

"Okay, but...look you just have to trust me okay!" You say looking at your laptop which is playing Superbad, a film Kento hasn't ever seen

"There is more to humor than just bad sex jokes." He says

"Well, not in this movie. Now hush." You say unpausing the movie

Kento Nanami's eyes drift over you as you're mesmerized by this movie. Sure there were funny moments but he had definitely seen better.

Besides, how could he focus on some old 2000s movie when he was too distracted by you? You look too cute for words in the hotel's bathrobe and there's even a bit of chocolate smeared on your face from the Hershey kisses you had pulled out of your bag and insisted he try earlier.

His eyes rake over you and your entire room in general. A pair of blue jeans haphazardly sits on the chair across the room. He can see the American flag-printed sunglasses you wore the other day sitting on the nightstand beside a few stray hair ties. An oversized bag of chips you had brought from back home is half eaten on the bed near his feet, he didn't even know they made bags that large.

He swore you were some walking stereotype of things he didn't even know were real outside movies. To top it all off he's pretty sure you're wearing a "New York Yankees Baseball" t-shirt underneath your robe.

"You're so American."

The words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" You ask, clearly a bit offended by his words

"Nothing, nothing." He laughs at the way your eyebrows knit together in confusion

"Tell me!" You groan reaching out to punch at his arm.

He easily catches it and pulls you into his side.

"Nothing. You're just really American." He smiles as he wraps an arm around you

You let out a huff of annoyance that he finds cute.

"Whatever, Kento. Maybe you're just too Japanese." You dismiss as you rest your head on his chest.

He lets out a hum of amusement and just accepts the way you send a mean pinch to his upper thigh. The pain is barely there but he laughs when you gently rub at the spot as a form of apology.

He's never been more glad that he came to Kuantan. He can't wait to visit more corners of the world, hopefully with you at his side. Yes, he's sure he wants to be around you even more, even if you're loud in stores, drink out of red cups, and wear baseball themed shirts. Sure, you might be oh-so-American to everyone else but he loves every bit of it.

Was that a cringe ending? I hope it wasn't.

As an american, I tried to think of stereotypes to put into this fic and struggled. IS that a sign I'm blind to them? Probably. Oops.

Yes, I'm still working on my Gojo fic. Have some Nanami while you wait. Consider this my formal apology for what I did to him in the Gojo fic...

My Masterlist

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aboutcustardcreams · 9 months ago

Text

Help me Hold onto you

I got carried away and I wrote a pretty long chapter. I hope it's smooth enough because for the life of me I couldn't bring myself to reread it. Maybe I will another time and fix some eventual mistakes 👻 Hope you enjoy it! To sum it up: hurt/comfort & fluff. The Doctor (the real Doctor) finds you and she is determined to save you.

word count: 4200 ish words

part three

part four

The Doctor walked carefully through the corridors of the TARDIS, fingertips brushing against its walls, actually surprised by how realistic it looked like. She knew it was only a projection of your mind, not the reality of it, but it was interesting to see her home, yours too, through your eyes. At the same time there was this nagging feeling gripping at her stomach at the thought that this place, you loved so much, was part of the nightmare you were trapped in. She needed to find you and quickly.

When she arrived at the panel room, she almost didn’t recognize it. The once bright orangish lights were darker there, almost crimson red. It didn’t feel like home one bit, it was distorted into something that made the Doctor feel unsafe, weird in the stomach. It was cold, humid, so much it stuck to her skin, biting through her bones. The Doctor hated humidity, because her hair curled up around her face.

Her eyes shifted towards the TARDIS’ door and a frown found its way on her forehead. She recognized the grayish mist coming from underneath, the same one that was hovering the planet. Instinct told her you were on the other side of that door. And she had to get to you before the mist did, because if it did– no, the Doctor couldn’t even finish that thought. It wasn’t an option. It could never be an option. So she ran to the door, her palms lifted in mid air, almost afraid to touch the surface, “please, be okay, be okay,” she whispered, almost in a plea.

Before she could touch the door and push it open, a voice came to her ears.

“Doctor, I was looking forward to meeting you.”

The Time Lady’s features hardened. She clenched her eyes shut for a second before spinning around, ready to face the enemy of the day. There he was, standing at the panel control, a creature she only read about in books, and never met before. She honestly would have preferred it that way. The Veilstryx was tall, taller than she thought he would be, slender, with edgy features. His skin was purple colored, a dark shade of it, almost black in fact. The first thing she noticed, though, were those large, majestic wings, folded behind his back, of the same color.

“Can’t say the same thing about you, Veilstryx,” she retorted, with a tight smile, “Is that, correct? Hope I pronounced it right,” she continued, a hint of sarcasm in her tone, hands tucked in her sweeping coat, “Actually no, I hope I misspelled it,” she added, scrunching up her nose.

He nodded amusedly. “Funny. You’re funny.” He tilted his head to the side and his four pitch black eyes blinked one by one, almost making him look like some sort of reptile. The Doctor made a disgusted face at that. “I must admit, I was expecting to see a man.”

The Doctor shrugged, giving him a cheeky little smile. She swayed a bit, shifting her weight from one foot to another, “Ah you know– I had an upgrade,” she responded hastily, having other things in mind to care about. You. “I normally enjoy small talk, but I’m quite in a hurry. Always in a hurry lately, me,” she stirred her lips in a thin line, and lolled her head right and left impatiently. “You see, you’ve got my friend and I’d like to have her back.”

The Veilstryx hummed, tapping his pointed claws over the dashboard, “your friend, your friend…”, he repeated, pretending to have no idea what the Doctor was talking about. “Ah, you mean that delicious girl you willingly brought here for me,” his forked tongue peeked out of his mouth, sweeping over his purple lips, “such a nice gift, I must admit.”

The Doctor’s jaw tightened, she felt her stomach drop only to jump back up in her throat. “She doesn’t belong to you,” she spoke quietly, however it was evident the concern and the urgency in her tone. “Let her go.”

For a moment he gave her his back and unfolded his wings as if he was in need of a stretch. “I’m afraid, I can’t do that.” The Doctor blinked slowly, her mind racing with theories and plans to stop him. He was in your head, and the only way to expel him was through you. You were the key. She took a more meticulous look at his wings, only to realize they were made of some weird substance, transparent like an hologram, but not exactly an hologram themselves. She could see through, almost as if they were made of air. But you can’t see air, now can you? So it was something similar, thicker, visible to the eye like… mist. The souls he collected ended up there.

“You see, I got a taste of her grief. She suffers so deliciously, I must keep her with me. I haven’t had one so exquisite in a while.”

She closed her hands into fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her frown deepened and her eyes glimmered with fear for you. “If you want to taste grief, I’ve plenty of it,” she took a step towards him, her voice almost desperate at this point, but there was firm determination in her hazel eyes. The Veilstryx tilted his head to the side, and stared at the Doctor, giving her the illusion he was actually considering her proposal. “I’ve lived longer, I’ve seen more than you can possibly imagine. Take me instead and let her go.”

“Oh but Doctor, you’ll be next,” the grin that tugged at his lips was unsettling, stretching a bit too wide, giving it a predatory air. “I can sense how much this mortal means to you. You meant a lot to her too,” he added, letting out a quiet dark chuckle. His mind traced back to all the things he told you, while using the Doctor’s appearance.

The Time Lady froze when the Veilstryx used the past tense to mention what you felt about her.

“Where is she?” She hissed, ignoring the sudden dizziness of her head. She could sense you and your thoughts, pushing through, mingling with hers, but she tried to keep them under control. “Tell me now.”

He pointed at the door with an amused glimmer in his eyes. The Doctor had been right all along to think you were there. “Go ahead, see it for yourself. I’ve heard you’re not fond of goodbyes, but I reckon this time you should make an exception for her.”

The Doctor’s frown deepened, the more he spoke, the more she felt confused. She shook her head, “I’ll not say goodbye. Ever.” Her eyes darkened, “If you hurt her, I–”, her stuttering was interrupted by his sudden breathless laugh.

“Doctor, I didn’t do anything. You did.”

Her mouth parted slightly agape, “No. I didn’t– ”

She didn’t even get to finish, the Veilstryx slithered closer, so close to being now only a couple of inches from her. His wings spread wide and closed up around his form, like a cocoon. The Doctor held her breath and didn’t move. When he unfolded his wings again, they started to fade, and his body too wasn’t there anymore. He shapeshifted into someone, the Doctor immediately recognized. Her mouth parted and her breath hitched. She was staring at herself now, her face, her blond bob, even her outfit was particularly true to the original. The sly grin, though, was something she didn’t possess.

“Tell me you’re impressed,” he cackled, with her voice.

The Doctor’s eyes flashed, “you pretended to be me…” she muttered under her breath.

“I did!” He squealed, in a way that made her feel sick to her stomach. “And she fell for it. Oh– it was so easy to break her,” he mused, sweeping his tongue over his new lips, “you’re in her mind, why don’t you see it for yourself?”

The Doctor inhaled sharply, her eyes were welling up with tears. Her original idea was to respect your boundaries, find you and bring you back without snooping around your mind. But now, she needed to know, a part of her needed to see what the Veilstryx did to you using her face.

She closed her eyes and focused on your mind. It appeared like a room full of doors, one cracked open, others firmly kept shut, probably belonging to the past. She focused on the most recent memory, the door that was left still ajar and she hesitantly gave a peek, pushing it open enough for her to sneak through.

She felt everything. All your emotions, all your fears and confusion basking in your head, and breaking your heart at the things the Veilstryx was telling you. She had to bring a hand to her mouth to suppress a pained sob. You were shaking, your face had never appeared paler before. The Doctor was a stranger to your tears, she had seen you cry before, but never remotely like that.

Next, she saw herself grinning mischievously at you, towered over you, like you had been nothing but a ragged doll to push down and down. It was wrong, so wrong. She wanted to throw up. When you begged her to stop, she didn’t listen and instead her fingers curled around your neck.

She wanted to intervene, but there was nothing she could do to change a memory that already happened. She could only be a spectator of your pain and it killed her.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, she kept repeating to herself like a mantra. She pulled away, finding her way back to the crimson red panel room, out of breath.

She stared at her own image with a hate she never thought she could possess, “What have you done?” Despite her sharp tone, tears were streaming down her cheeks with no control. She didn’t even bother to wipe them.

The Veilstryx shrugged, “I s’pose you should be asking that yourself, Doctor.”

“You’ll not have her, you hear me? You think you’re so clever, but you know nothing about what I’m capable of. What she is capable of.”

He snorted. “Don’t get your hopes up, Doctor. Loving someone so fiercely is the dumbest thing you could do.”

“It’s not,” she was quick to argue. “But what would you know about love?”, she let out a bitter chuckle.

He does his best to keep his face unbothered by her teasing, but the Doctor knows her face too well, to recognize the faint tremor of her eyebrows, proof of her faltering confidence. “Now I’m going to save my friend, and you better not come my way or you’ll be sorry–”

The Veilstryx dismissed her with a flick of her hand, “take a shot, then. It’s only going to taste sweeter for me,” he grinned, but the Doctor didn’t bother to look at him. She spun around and moved towards the TARDIS’ door, throwing it open with no hesitation nor fear whatsoever.

The Doctor’s hearts clenched painfully in her chest at the sight of you crouched down across the room of your apartment, shaking like a dry leaf, with your head buried in your hands. She had seen you in pain before, however, never like this. Perhaps it was because she was in your head, and could feel everything you were feeling: despair, fear, confusion and sadness. It was almost unbearable to stand and watch. With what the Veilstryx showed you, the Doctor was terrified of how you might react to seeing her again. But she pushed through, she would always do that for you.

Her knees gave in then and she found herself crouched down across you. “Hi, stardust–” when she placed a hand upon your shoulder, your cries subsided softly. The Doctor’s lips quivered in a watery smile, desperately waiting to meet your eyes, “It’s alright,” she added gently, “I know you’re scared, but I’m here now– I’m with you…”

Slowly lifting your head, you’re beyond confused to see her in your apartment. You blinked slowly, as if in trance. How could you not be? After all the things she told you. “Doctor?” your voice sounded barely above a whisper, “what are you doing in my house?” Your orbs would normally sparkle with joy at the sight of the Doctor, but not this time. This time your eyes were glassy and dull, your dark thick lashes were wet with tears, that seemed to never end.

The Doctor did her best to ignore the sensation of being unwelcome. “This is not your house. And that person you think you saw earlier in the TARDIS, that by the way was not the TARDIS, wasn’t me,” she began, her voice calming, despite the unnatural turmoil going on inside her. She couldn’t ignore how unsettling it was to look into your eyes and see a mixture of disappointment and sadness, veiling them. You never once doubted the Doctor, however at that specific moment it was crystal clear, you were uncertain whether to believe her or not.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I know what I saw, who I saw…”, you clarified, in a firm voice.

The Doctor shook her head slowly, her hand moved from your shoulder to your cheek, or at least that was her intention. But you flinched, “Please, don’t–” you croaked out, making the Time Lady sick in her stomach. You never once pulled away from her, and that hurt the Doctor more than she’d like to admit. When she murmured your name in a soft plea, you clenched your eyes shut, hating the velvety sound of it.

You bit back a choked sob, sick and tired of crying. “Don’t play with me anymore,” you wanted to be mad at her, to show a different demeanor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. “Haven’t you hurt me enough?”

“No. No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t,” she whispered with a certain urgency. She tilted her head to the side to meet your eyes. You were the absolute best thing that ever happened to her, and the fact that you didn’t know was entirely her fault. No matter how hard she tried to keep those she loved safe, the Doctor always ended up making the same mistakes, over and over. Because she loved you and you thought the opposite.

You gave her a breathless, short chuckle, “If believing that makes you sleep easier at night, go ahead–”, you muttered sarcastically.

The Doctor slightly shook her head again. Normally she would respond with a playful remark, telling you Time Lords don’t really sleep, but there was nothing funny in the conversation you two were having. It had nothing to do with the usual domesticity between you. “Listen to me,” she tried again, and with a shaky hand, she tried to touch you again, “you’re trapped in your own mind now, the Veilstryx did this to you. Long story short, he took my form to hurt you, because that’s what he does– he feeds on people’s grief and biggest fears. He manipulates minds to his own advantage…” she could almost count all the freckles from your face, for how close she got. Both her hands were cupping your cheeks, her thumbs tracing soothing circles on your wet skin. “But I’m here now, the real me, the one that would never hurt you, hear me? Never.”

There was so much honesty and sincerity in her eyes, you found yourself vacillating. She sounded so much like your Doctor, the person you fell in love with, so different from the one you saw earlier in the TARDIS.

“I want to trust you, and I feel like a part of me will always do, but what happened earlier– I can’t get it out of my head–”, you exhaled, making the Doctor’s breath hitch painfully. “I never thought you could hurt me like that-” you whispered, your voice was a mixture of sobs and gasps. It was harder to breathe, the more time passed.

The Doctor wanted to shout now, but her voice died in her throat. She kept hold of you, hushing you gently and pulling you against her chest. You let her. Despite everything that happened, you’d always fall for her display of affections, fake or not. That’s what love did to people. It made them stupid, dependent, and weak.

The Doctor had faced all kinds of enemies and dangers throughout her life, but nothing prepared her for such a twist. The possibility of you turning your back to her. “Please, don’t say that. I swear to you, that wasn’t me–” she croaked out, voice heavy with tears. “You have to believe me. I know it’s hard, but if you don’t– “ she clenched her eyes and let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t even spill those words. She couldn't even tell herself that you could die, even less to you. “I don’t want to lose you. Please, I’m beggin’ you. Please, don’t make me lose you.”

There was a flicker of hesitation in your eyes now. Not to what she said, but to what you witnessed earlier in the TARDIS. You had your suspicions too, to be frank, because that person telling you all those horrible things had sounded so artificial, impossibly cruel, and the Doctor you knew was many things, but cruel.

You lightly pulled away from her, eager to lock eyes with her, “you’re telling the truth?” You asked timidly, your voice so small and filled with vulnerability. When the Doctor nodded her head, without the minimum hesitation, you believed her right away. Perhaps it was irresponsible, and rather stupid, but you’d rather believe this version of her, the one you’ve always known, rather than the cruel one.

“I want to believe you,” you continued, a sad smile tracing your features. “This truth is better than the one I saw earlier. Anything would be better than that.”

The Doctor’s eyes shone with hope then, “always been brilliant, you.”

She caught you blushing softly and fidgeting at the compliment received. With extreme gentleness, as if it was the rawest thing in the world, she interlocked your fingers with hers. Another sign to show you she was there for you, and you had nothing to worry about. When she brought your knuckles to her lips, you stared deeply into her hazel eyes, and a wave of guilt flashed through you for all those horrible things you let yourself believe about the Doctor. And if she was in your head now, there was the slight possibility that she knew–You needed to apologize, you needed to tell her you didn’t really believe all those things that crossed your mind the moment the Doctor– the Veilstryx curled his fingers around your neck with the purpose of hurting you. Because meeting her was and will always be the greatest gift of your life.

“Doctor, I need to apologize for– when the Veilstryx took your form and said those things, I–”, you bit your tongue, feeling a crescendo of new tears welling up in your eyes.

“Don’t go there, don’t you dare–” she argued quickly, yet fondly. “I’m the only one that owes you an apology, a big one. And I promise, I’ll make up to you for the rest of my life, but now we should focus on going back. You need to wake up, pull away from the Veilstryx and quickly.”

You nodded, however hesitantly. “How do I do that?”

“By facing your fears and acknowledging them as such. Irrational scenarios of your mind.” That was indeed your Doctor, your brilliant, rambler Doctor. “They aren’t real and they will never be real. Break the contact with the Veilstryx, make sure he has nothing to hold on to. He has no power in the real world, and you should focus on what’s real, on the things you know are real–”

You nodded again, and reluctantly let go of her hand to press your fingers firmly against your temples, as if that gesture would push away the lies he fed you with. Your heart rate picked up and cold sweat started pooling from your forehead. He was resisting you.

“Help me,” you croaked out. “Help me see our life together.”

You didn’t need to ask twice, when she spoke again, her voice was quieter, yet more serious, “Yaz is waiting for you in the TARDIS, the real one,” her eyes widened slightly when she averted her gaze from your eyes to the fingers on your temples. Your digits were turning the same color of the Veilstryx’s wings, as if they were— fading. He was starting to suck you away.

She took your hands in her and took a sigh of relief, realizing she could still feel them. “She is worried sick about you but she’s also mad– nothing serious, you know her. She had a bad feeling about Nectoxia and she was right. Always right, that girl. We should listen to her more often,” there’s a hint of weak playfulness in her tone, that elicits a quiet chuckle in you.

“I should’ve taken her money.”

“You should have. But don’t tell her I said that,” she mused tenderly.

She started talking about all the adventures you lived together, the silly, quite ordinary moments in the TARDIS like the time you slipped on her sonic, while carrying a tray with freshly baked cookies. You were so determined to hold a grudge, but failed every time the Doctor would make eye contact with you. Her and her silly faces always made you cackle.

You merely rolled your eyes at the memory, “You ate all those that fell on the floor.”

“Of course, I did. They were delicious,” she remarked, with a grin.

As she kept talking, you listened attentively, your heart felt lighter and your body warmed up, as if it was coming back to life again. Your hands were tingling, they looked like a hologram, appearing and disappearing intermittently. You were fighting him. When her lips moved to the crown of your head, you smiled and closed your eyes for a brief second, basking in her affection and wishing it could go on forever.

You let out a sigh while clinging to the Doctor’s tee. “The Veilstryx thought he could weaken me by showing me my biggest fear. Little did he know he only made me stronger,” you began, voice quiet but resolute.

Her lip quivered slightly, but she was determined to not make a single noise.

“I think it’s a common fear, especially for those that had the luck to travel with you, the idea that someday all of this will end. For the first moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were my best chance in life to be the best version of myself. And I was right. I tried to be like you, to be brave, kind and extraordinary like you. I wanted you to notice me, the way I noticed you.”

The Doctor wanted to say that she noticed you from the very beginning too. That she saw all the things you could be the exact moment you took her hand and joined her in her blue box.

“I’ll hold onto you no matter how much it will hurt later. Because this–” you pulled away and pointed at you and her with a fond smile, “this is worth everything.”

The Doctor ran a hand across your cheek, her fingers trembled as she wiped all your new tears. She later pushed some of your hair from your face, combing it gently, so gently, you closed your eyes and let out a soft sigh.

She leaned in, wishing to be part of your beautiful little bubble. “I’ve never been too good with words, but if there’s one thing I’m sure about is you. You’re an essential pillar in my life and you will always be. I don’t know what the future has in store for us, but I can see how beautiful our present is and I want to live it, the longest possible. And having a time machine at my disposal could help with that, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” you chuckled.

Your hands were no longer fading, but you felt a tad weird, as if you were being pulled away. There was another voice you heard in the distance. You frowned and lolled your head to the side as to hear it better.

Come on, come on, come back you two… what’s taking you so long?

“I think I’m hearing Yaz…” you muttered confusedly.

“It’s okay,” she encouraged you with a warm smile. “It means you’re waking up. Let it happen. Yaz and I are gonna be there.”

“Promise?”

She nodded her head, eyes softening as she took in your adorable expression. She grasped your chin and lifted your face towards hers, her eyes basked in yours before shifting down towards your lips. Her face was so close you couldn’t help but wish to shorten that gap even more.

I want to kiss you so bad right now, you thought to yourself.

The Doctor chuckled against your mouth, her breath tickling your lips as she spoke. “Same here, stardust, but I think you’d appreciate it more if our first kiss didn’t happen in a dream.”

In that exact moment you realized she heard your thoughts. And instead of feeling uneasy and embarrassed by it, you were happier than ever. You nodded your head, and your heart fluttered at her words. “You better be on the other side then.”

A small, sheepish grin played out on her face, along with a faint blush rose on her cheeks. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything in the Universe.”

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