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anystalker707 · 25 days ago

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Catch me when I fall

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Being stuck in a small city with barely any service during the business rush of the holidays feels like hell when you're an agent of a great company. Tags: very generic, cliche, cheesy christmas plot / very very very sweet / comfort / decorating christmas cookies / watching christmas lights / ice skating / christmas activities

requested by ms rain the queen herself @bimbo-baggins17

MASTER LIST

Christmas wasn’t important. Well, actually, it was, when it came to numbers. Profits went high, people and sales everywhere, and you’d usually always be the one going on business trips for the company, going around to sign contracts or take pictures shaking hands with people to seal business deals and keep the appearances.

Business kept your mind busy during the holidays, set on what needed to get done, away from distractions. The November-January period was busy, much like June-August, so the main difference was simply the weather and decorations.

This year’s destination seemed nice—a little, cozy city that made its profits mainly during the holiday season because of tourism, and encouraging small businesses was the company’s great aim this time. The pictures of you with the mayor and other local authorities were everywhere by now for the new campaign.

Everything was going great. Maybe a little too great to be true.

“The road’s blocked?” You blinked a couple of times, taking a deep breath.

“Well, you see…” The driver cleared his throat and coughed, looking away, looking at the cars that eventually passed down the frozen streets, though there weren’t many. Not in such a small city. “The weather was too intense, so the bridge’s under maintenance. It will take a while to fix since we gotta make sure it’s safe ‘n all, y’know. Gotta have a good weather t’work.”

Something felt like it was about to snap inside you. There was going to be another important meeting in two days. “What about the other exit? Plane? Boat? Helicopter?”

The driver flinched a little more with each word. “Look, Mx., I really believe the best’s t’wait. M’bad, but safety comes first, y’know? ‘N the city’s small. No other exit.” He shrugged as he leaned back against the car, but quickly fished his phone out of his pocket with a sigh. “Look, Mx., I really gotta go. Y’got my number ‘lready. Y’gonna know when the bridge’s fixed, then y’can call me. Uh—” He paused before he answered his phone. “There’s a lil’ inn there, good prices.”

He didn’t spare another word, pressing the phone to his ear and getting in the car before he slammed the door shut, and the car sped away with a rhythmic sound of something loose, leaving you standing alone in the cold streets with your suitcase. Fuck. You had planned to stay in a hotel in the state’s capital, not… there.

You finally found the sign hanging from a large building, black letters on light brown wood saying ‘Donna’s inn’ in cursive. The wooden building seemed cozy, surrounded by dark green pine trees and deep red decorations that matched the ornaments along the light posts that decorated the street, with the touch of accumulated snow. It hadn’t snowed so much since you arrived in the city by the morning, but it was noticeable the weather had been harsh lately. Now that you think of it, the drive into the city took longer than expected, and the line of cars seemed explainable now, given the bridge’s situation.

A sigh escaped your lips. It is what it is.

The nice smell of gingerbread cookies and cherry pie greeted you the moment you stepped past the door, welcoming you with a warmth that gave your nerves a break from all the trembling—a little piece of heaven in the middle of nowhere. Small cities felt claustrophobic when you were used to big centers.

You inhaled to call for someone when an old lady showed up behind the counter in a red dress and a dark green apron with a nice print of white polka dots around the edges, which matched her mitten. “Oh, hello, dear, good afternoon! What can I do for you?” She adjusted her glasses with her free hand.

“Oh, hi,” you said with a nod, observing the flour fingerprints on her lenses for a moment. “I’d like a room. Uh, until the bridge’s fixed. However long that takes…” You sighed.

A crease showed up between her brows, and the lady sighed. “Everyone knew that was going to happen. I—” A clanking sound came from the kitchen, along with a patterned beeping. “Give me a moment, dear, I’ll fetch your keys. Make yourself comfortable, huh?” She smiled warmly before walking through the door, which you presumed to lead to the kitchen, leaving you alone in the reception.

The room was cozy and warm, with a fire, an armchair, and a couch. Christmas decorations hung everywhere, a nice jar with some flowers sat on the side table, and the carpet seemed to be picked out for the holiday season as well. Red, white, and green were practically everywhere, aside from when they gave place to the golden wallpaper. Whoever took care of the place did it well.

You left your suitcase near the counter to step closer to the window, observing the darkening sky, the snow accumulating on top of trees and houses—

“Fuck!” Your heart almost jumped out of your chest when a figure emerged outside, making you take a step back, but damn, it was just a man. He had a few layers of sweaters and a hood on as his gloved fingers tried to untangle a line of Christmas lights. The dumbass— Fuck, he didn’t even notice you standing there, almost having a heart attack as you held your chest and gripped the window sill with your free hand, trying to catch your breath.

Blue eyes glanced at you once, then twice, before they widened in realization. “Did I scare you?” He mouthed, letting out an awkward chuckle when you nodded. “Sorry.”

The man leaned forward to look at the counter through the window before he let the Christmas lights down, and the next thing you knew was that he was walking through the front door, exhaling as he brushed the snow off his shoulders and took the hood off, tucking it somewhere behind the counter along with his gloves.

Now that you took a better look at him… Fuck, if he had a sharp suit on, you’d easily mistake him for one of the great businessmen you didn’t even dare to look at directly. Tall, handsome, and intimidating even in his gentleness.

“So…” He cleared his throat, grabbing a book from behind the counter. “A room?”

You blinked a couple of times and looked past him, but the door to the kitchen was still closed. “You work here?”

“Maintenance guy. A little bit of everything, really. I fill in when Mrs. Lee is busy in the kitchen,” he said with a shrug as he grabbed a pen. “So?”

Reality dawned once more, making you sigh for the thousandth time of the day, rubbing your temple. “A room. Until the bridge’s fixed.”

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, eyes raking over you swiftly. “Oh, shucks, big city kid.” Something in it sounded like mockery, but you left it at that, only watching him grab a key that hung on the wall and check the number on the tag before writing something in the notebook. “Uuh, sign your name here, also write down your number,” he said as he turned the notebook towards you, handing you the pen. “Room number twenty-five. Very Christmas-y.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head to yourself. As if it had to do with anything. Irrelevant. After checking your information a last time, you handed the pen back. “Is there any fee?”

“Nope,” he said. “As long as you don’t run away during the night.” A chuckle escaped his lips, but you didn’t share the humor, and he didn’t mind it, simply taking the notebook back and nodding to himself. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” He walked around the counter in long strides and reached for your suitcase, not caring that you were already holding the handle. “Leave it with me, sweetheart. You seem tired.”

His gaze held yours for a longer moment, blue eyes warm. His hand covered yours to squeeze it gently. The touch was so warm and caring, and fuck, did he call you sweetheart? That— Damn, you were supposed to—

“Sweetheart?” He called from the hall, and you cursed yourself while rushing after him. He stopped in front of a door, the frame lined with red and white decorations that made you think of candy cane and holiday profits off decorations. Your suitcase was by his feet as he unlocked the door. He was so annoying, suddenly. Something about the way he stood, spoke, talked to you…

“Do you have a name, or are you just the maintenance guy?”

Maybe the bitterness was easy to notice. He raised his eyebrows lightly as he looked at you and handed the keys over. “It’s Hayden.” He smiled softly. “Uh, dinner’s from seven-thirty until nine. Self-service, with pretty much all kinds of options. No extra fees charged. Breakfast is from seven to nine, and lunch is from eleven to one,” he said before he paused, rubbing his chin lightly. “Just a tip, but since you’re staying until the bridge’s new again, then maybe you should check the city lights at some point. If you need me, ‘m just down the hall, sweetheart.” Hayden winked before walking down the hall, probably going back to fixing the Christmas lights or anything.

Damn. He looked so… Ugh, you weren’t supposed to pay attention to those things. Reality barged in again within seconds, preventing you from just stupidly standing there while looking at where Hayden had disappeared.

The mess hall was quite cozy, making it feel like a big family was eating together despite the different tables. A sweet smell of something being prepared for later came from the kitchen when you walked past the door, catching a glimpse of the old lady—Mrs. Lee—with another younger woman with aprons and bowls. And yeah, they did a great job. Hayden wasn’t lying when he said there were a lot of options.

Quite a few other guests had lunch at the inn, enough to fill the mess hall with quiet chatter and the clinking of ceramic against ceramic, but still, not enough people to fill out all the tables, leaving a four-seat one free for you.

Your phone rested beside your plate, ever loading, unresponsive with the bad signal that’d been pestering you ever since you woke up. Those dark clouds in the sky didn’t seem promising at all, though.

“Oh, look at who’s here!” The sudden voice made you look up to see Hayden approaching with a plate of food to take a seat across from you. “Didn’t see you during breakfast.” He raised an eyebrow, picking up the cutlery.

You raised your eyebrows, tilting your head. “I had gone to check if the bridge was fixed, or if I could find another way to leave,” you exhaled, pushing your food around the plate a little before finally taking another bite.

Hayden hummed as he nodded slowly. “Not successful, I presume.” He only smiled at the glare—that damn smile. “Why the rush? Going back home to see family for Christmas?”

“No!” You scoffed. As if you’d go back home right at that time of the year when business is so agitated. “I have an important meeting in two days. It’s important for the company, and I can barely get enough signal to let anyone know that I’m stuck here, though, hopefully, the bridge’s news will reach them.”

A crease showed up between Hayden’s eyebrows as he looked at you, swallowing before he could speak up. “What could be that important that you couldn’t enjoy Christmas with your family?” He paused and cleared his throat. “Sorry, that sounded too intrusive. I mean—” he paused. “What could be so important that you would rather work than enjoy Christmas?”

After a moment of staring at Hayden—at that stupidly handsome face—, you took a deep breath. “How else is the market supposed to keep running if people like me weren’t active during the Holidays? I mean, things can’t just stop completely.”

Hayden raised his eyebrows as he hummed slowly, that attitude from the first day coming back already. How entertaining could it be to mock you? Honestly… “Not so lucky, it seems.” And you sighed, about to say something when he looked at you. “However, you’re actually lucky to be here to see the city’s Christmas festivities.”

You shot him the same mocking look. “How productive.”

A hint of exasperation crossed his face before Hayden shrugged. “Better than just sitting there, since you can’t work or anything anyway.” And a small, fake apologetic smile crossed his face because he knew exactly how much of a low blow his words were, then proceeded to go back to eating as if nothing had happened. He even had the audacity to look at you with an inquiring gaze, blinking a couple of times as he still smiled, munching on his food, and you had to hold yourself back from wiping that look off his face. Whatever it took…

Most of the guests left after lunch to explore the city or anything else related to Christmas, but there was barely anything you could do when the signal was so bad and the bridge wasn’t fixed yet. After being trapped in your room for long enough, you decided to lounge a little in the reception, given the warmth of the fireplace and the snacks in the glass jars, but you found yourself standing by the window and watching sparse snow fall. Being trapped in that city made you think of all the reports you could be writing, all the e-mails that must be flooding your inbox, the missed calls, unanswered messages…

“Oh, you’re still around, sweetheart,” the voice cut through your thoughts. Was Hayden everywhere? Though you didn’t mind seeing him, even if he wore that ugly sweater, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and an apron much like the one Mrs. Lee and her helper were using. Where did all that charm come from? “Got nothing to do?”

“No.” It sounded heavier than intended, but the frustration was real.

“Maybe you could help me with decorating some cookies?” Hayden raised his eyebrows a little. “Mrs. Lee left last minute and said I could decorate this batch, and since you’re around so melancholic like that… ‘Could be a good way to pass the time.”

Cooking was far from the reality of paperwork, meetings, and screens that filled your life, and that reality only hit you now that you imagined yourself in a kitchen, decorating cookies. Christmas cookies.

“It’ll be fun, I swear,” Hayden said before you could overthink, and maybe it worked, because he soon had an arm wrapped around your shoulders while guiding you behind the counter and into the kitchen, also decorated in a Christmas theme, wide, with enough apparel to attend the demand of three daily meals for the inn’s guests. The surface of the island’s stainless steel counter was covered in cookies. “We have gingerbread men, trees, snowflakes, and icing in different colors,” he said as he grabbed one of the aprons that hung on the wall. Dark green, polka dots details. “There we go.”

Hayden slipped the top part around your head and stood behind you to gently tie the straps around your waist, fingers brushing against you gently. “Well, aren’t you just cute?”

Cute? Out of your element and dressing something like that? But he said it in such a smooth voice and genuine appreciation. How even were you supposed to feel about that? The embarrassment and confusion must’ve been evident, given the chuckle you earned from him.

“Uh, thanks,” you muttered with uncertainty, trying to move past the situation as you washed your hands in the sink.

“Let’s start with the gingerbread men, how’s that sound?” Hayden clapped before he grabbed one of the bags with icing and pulled the closest cookie closer, glancing at you with those pretty blue eyes.

Focus. You took a deep breath before adjusting the icing in your hands, trying to find any position that made it feel more natural, or at least… less difficult to decorate those cookies and make something that didn’t look ugly. Unfortunately, measuring the pressure and coordinating things was a little too hard, making you curse under your breath when the white icing started falling off the side of the cookie.

Hayden looked at you once, twice, then hummed before rushing over. “Oh, fuck, it’s okay, sweetheart. Happens to the best of us,” he said before he moved to next to you—a little too close, but not unpleasantly. He took the cookie from the counter, wiping the extra icing off the counter with his free hand before he licked his fingers clean, his lips wrapping around his middle and ring finger…

Blue eyes met yours, and Hayden raised his eyebrows lightly. “Tastes good,” he whispered as if it were a secret before licking the white remnants off his lips and wiping his fingers on the apron. “Well, the thing is, you have to hold it like this and do not apply pressure on the bottom, okay? Not a lot, at least.” He set the ruined cookie aside before wrapping his arms around you, hands over yours ever so gently, his face next to yours, so close you could catch a faint hint of cigarettes in his breath. “Careful, sweetheart. We want pretty cookies, hm? I’m sure you can make some as pretty as you.”

And you didn’t know whether it was Hayden or you actually doing the thing because your brain could barely process anything but every point where your bodies touched, and his words still swam across your mind. Nonetheless, you still had to put some minimum effort into it so that you didn’t look like a complete fool.

“There we go. This one looks cuter, don't you think?” Hayden tilted his head before his eyes met yours. So close. “I knew I was making a good choice by asking you to help me. Well, let’s go back to work. Try not to waste anything, okay?”

Even out of your element, even if you’d laugh if someone told you yesterday that you’d be doing that today, decorating the cookies with him, it gave you some sense of home, even if you never grasped the concept properly before. It felt like a glimpse of a life you’d have if things had gone differently in the past. Living in a small city, being married, doing the simple things, it all felt so distant.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Hayden’s voice cut through your thoughts before you nodded, finishing organizing the cookies so that the icing could dry before they were put in jars. There was a clear distinction between the ones you decorated and the ones Hayden decorated.

You nodded. “Yeah, just lost in thought,” you said softly, giving him a small smile, a forced one, for the sake of the moment. He smiled back with an understanding nod, and none of you really seemed to be truthful.

“Well,” Hayden took a deep breath as he nudged a cookie into place before placing his hand on top of yours. “I know you’re very frustrated. Being stuck in a city like this, nothing like what you’re used to, away from a lot of things, it might feel at least,” he paused, seeming to think for a word, “claustrophobic, but it doesn’t have to be totally bad.” He glanced down at your joined hands before nodding with a hum. “Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “I’m very thankful for your help. We were a great duo today.” And you couldn’t even continue your overthinking, not when he sent you that smile.

Everything was organized again, back into place or put away, aside from the cookies that waited for the icing to dry. Having the moment slipping through your fingers gave you a weird sensation in your chest, almost an ache.

“Let me help you,” Hayden said softly, and his hands grazed your back again as he untied the apron, always so caring and attentive, with some sort of tenderness that only seemed unreal until now. How real could it be, though? “Do you want to go with me to the rink someday?” He always interrupted your thoughts in the best-worst moments, as if he had a sixth sense or something. “Ice skating can be boring when you’re alone, y’know.”

“Ice skating?” You furrowed your eyebrows. Far from your usual activities. “What if something needs maintenance by then? Will you just be away, ice skating?”

“Normal humans don’t work the whole time, I’m not sure if you know that.”

You blinked slowly, glaring. How could someone be so annoying and nice all at the same time? Far from your usual conversations. “And what if there’s service before we can go? Maybe the bridge’s already fixed by then.”

Hayden scoffed. “Yeah, no. This is no New York—”

“New York isn’t—”

“—so the best you can do is really just wait patiently. You may not see how you can make it better, but making it worse won’t help either,” he said slowly, holding eye contact. Part of you wondered where all that patience came from. Surprisingly, he didn’t sound patronizing, but caring instead.

Despite how annoying it was to admit it, Hayden was right. Just staring at the ever-loading circle on your phone or laptop screen while stressing every second that went by didn’t seem so helpful, and even if the bridge did happen to get fixed and service suddenly came back, you wouldn’t be able to solve everything in a snap of fingers either. Damn it. Rationality felt like defeat, even if there wasn’t anything to lose.

A hand rested on your shoulder, thumb rubbing circles into your skin. Intentionally or not, Hayden did a good job at comforting you.

You had to use every ounce of strength to avert your eyes away from his, trying to find something interesting in observing all those colorful cookies, anything that didn’t show his reaction. “When’s the rink open?” You asked, voice strained through all those feelings.

Hayden’s approval simmered in the air before his voice replaced it. “Uh, this weekend, if I’m not wrong.”

“What?” You widened your eyes at him. “It’s Monday!”

Despite your panic, he laughed. “You overestimate some things ‘round here.”

You rubbed your forehead, observing the fire flicker in the fireplace, trying to think about anything other than checking your phone. Your brain melted like the marshmallows in the cup. “Now, what’s this again?”

Hayden sat on the armchair beside yours, ankle on his knee, hanging out with you in the inn’s lounge while Mrs. Lee cooked in the kitchen to the sound of cheerful Christmas songs on the radio. The inn wasn’t so agitated during the afternoons, the space between lunch and dinner always filled with a nice calmness, even if everything still gave you a small sense of unease. Some of your emails had been delivered through the night, but service was still too slow to let you check all the updates properly. At least someone knew you weren’t dead or something.

“Chilling.”

You feigned a smile. “Uh huh, wow.”

“Do you like the hot chocolate though?”

“Well,” you tutted, “it's not bad.” Giving in was hard, but you didn't want to be unpleasant either. After all, Hayden was just being nice so far, despite the attitude… “What's this? A streak of Christmas activities? Christmas to-do list?” You grabbed the mug from the small side table, taking a look at the exaggerated Santa Claus design. “Is everything over here Christmas-themed?”

Hayden looked around, from the ceiling to the floor, before looking down at himself, then at you. “Uh, I suppose you aren't Christmas-themed.”

“You’re so funny.” You sighed and sipped on the hot drink.

“Thank you.” Hayden tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face for a moment. His tongue darted out to lick his lips before he spoke up. “Any success contacting your company or something?”

“Actually, yes!” You replied a bit too fast, but he smiled. “It seems like my email was sent! I received a few, but they won’t load, unfortunately. At least they have time to rescue me or send someone else in my place.”

Hayden nodded slowly. “That eases part of your stress, right? Now that they know, you don’t need to keep observing your phone your whole time.” His hand found yours before you could grab the phone, warm fingers enveloping yours and giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Come on, staying here isn’t all that bad, you’re just…” He paused, shrugging. “…not used to slowing down like this,” he said each word carefully and nodded after noticing you didn’t complain, but how could you think about anything other than how nice his hand felt around yours? His thumb gently tracing your knuckles in such a nice, loving way.

“Hayden?” Mrs. Lee showed up from the door to the kitchen. “Think you can buy me some more sprinkles, deary? I need those.” She adjusted her glasses, squeezing her eyes while bringing up an empty wrapper. “The red and green ones. Silver or golden will do just fine if it’s sold out already.” She waved it a little, compelling Hayden to stand up with a soft sigh and retrieve the plastic bag, letting the cold air replace the warmth of his hand around yours. “You know they opened the Christmas expo near the glass house, hm? You should take your partner with you.”

Hayden glanced back at you, your eyes meeting for what were just seconds but felt like an eternity. His partner…? You couldn’t afford to have a partner, no matter how appealing the idea sounded. Despite the shared look, he just nodded at Mrs. Lee before he pocketed the wrapper and made a motion for you to follow as he walked to the door, seeming pleased when you stood up. Well, it was no use arguing with Mrs. Lee over something so insignificant, right?

Gentle hands helped you into your coat, delicately adjusting the lapel. “Let’s go.” Hayden waited for you to make sure you were ready before he held the door open. “She’s probably preparing donuts. You gotta try them on, even if you’re not into donuts.”

You hummed with a nod, watching your breath turn into steam in the cold air, before avoiding slipping on the frozen part of the sidewalk became your new focus.

“Easy there,” Hayden said as his hand immediately grabbed your upper arm until you were steady enough for his hand to drop to your waist. “Good, sweetheart?” His hand pressed firmly against your waist, and you couldn’t help but gravitate to his side. After all, Hayden was so warm, and his presence gave that sense of protection. Comfort. Naming it was hard.

“Yeah,” you said softly, glancing at him. He didn’t let go of you, and you didn’t push him away either.

The walk was silent, and you didn’t do much besides following Hayden around the little convenience store and accepting the warm cup of coffee he bought for you, and another for himself. A shiver ran down your spine as you two left the store, leaving behind the muffled talk with a background sound of distorted voices among the TV’s white noise and warmth, replaced by the silence brought by the snow accumulated on the streets and steam rising from the coffee cups, their warmth pleasantly penetrating your glove. Mrs. Lee’s sprinkles were safe inside the pocket of Hayden’s jacket, leaving his hands free for you and the coffee.

“Let’s take a different way back.” Hayden’s hand went from your waist to your hand to guide you into the street you would’ve otherwise walked past, and you followed with a light groan when your coffee almost spilled over. “They always decorate the square nicely. Last year, the decoration was a little… weird. The angels— They were supposed to look like angels, but were more like ghosts,” he said with a chuckle, grin widening once he noticed your smile.

“Oh? That’s…”

“I don’t think the decorator thought it through,” he said, clicking his tongue, that charming smile still across his face. Fuck, he made you feel such things. “But it’s beautiful this year.” He sipped on the coffee, finishing it before he tossed the empty cup into a trash can, and you did the same. Appreciating the decoration would be better without the coffee to worry about.

Golden and silver lights lined the trees and light posts, fading out a little until they became bright again, giving a cozy vibe to the square. Just like Mrs. Lee had said, there was, indeed, a building with big, glass windows, lined with lights as well. The Christmas tree was made out of golden LED lights with a pretty star on top, and there was a tunnel of silver lights and stars hanging in it… Everything was far from the extravagant decorations you were used to, but something about it gave you a comfort you’d never felt. It was scary, overwhelming, like it would burst out of your chest, explode, and…

“It’s beautiful,” Hayden said as he walked through the tunnel with you, his hand down your arm until his hands found yours then gently intertwined your fingers, grip firm and caring. “I’m glad it’s beautiful this year, so you don’t have a bad impression about our town,” he whispered.

Your gaze averted to him briefly, and you nodded faintly, unable to look away from the stars that hung in the tunnel of slowly twinkling lights for too long, accompanying Hayden in unhurried steps. Everything is so different, and it didn’t feel like you’d expected it to be—like you’d feared. You stopped by the end of the tunnel, afraid that magic would disappear if you stepped out of it, so you just stood there, by the end, a step away from all that daily stress, anxiety, and bullshit.

“You know, it is so—” The words escaped your grasp when your eyes averted to Hayden, and he was already looking at you. Something about his gaze made your heart skip a beat. He offered a smile, but it only helped your brain malfunction more, and the only thing you could give in return was to squeeze his hand back after his fingers tightened a little around yours. You exhaled, trying to look at anything other than Hayden, maybe at the… mistletoe.

Hayden’s eyebrows raised as he followed your gaze, eventually noticing the mistletoe, which seemed like the most important thing in the world until your eyes met again, hesitant, expectant, something like that. How could you ignore the pull? The sweet gaze that seemed to look right through you…

How it happened didn’t matter, not when Hayden’s lips pressed to yours, and only now did you notice how much you’d wanted it to happen, now that his arms wrapped around your waist and your body molded against his so perfectly, and no kiss had ever felt that good, never made your heart beat like that.

His lips were as gentle as they appeared, making you feel better than any good millionaire deal made on Christmas ever could, and it felt pathetic now to think that your Christmases had been filled with that until now. Felt stupid. Was that how everyone else saw you? As someone stupid? Because it didn’t feel very wise to have spent all that time drowning yourself in work, just work, not even enjoying all those places you’d traveled to, and fuck. No, no, that was your life. You couldn’t throw away all those years because it wasn’t stupid. A few kisses wouldn’t keep money running, people employed, and money in their accounts.

It hurt when Hayden’s lips sought after yours after you pulled away, but it was needed. You hadn’t gotten so far—dedicated so many years—just for that, but you couldn’t help letting your hands linger on his chest before finally stepping back and looking away. Falling in love was too far off the question, too much for someone like you.

Not much was left to be said.

“Oh, honey, good morning,” Mrs. Lee said as soon as she saw you by the main table to grab some breakfast, adjusting the thick glasses that made her green eyes seem a lot bigger, but in an endearing way. “Has Hayden told you?”

Just hearing his name made your heart skip a beat, making you thankful you weren’t holding your mug with hot coffee. It wasn’t like you did anything wrong. Get a fucking grip. “Uh, told me about what?”

“The bridge, honey!” She clapped her hands together. “It’s fixed!”

“Fixed?!”

“You can go home!” Mrs. Lee seemed happier than you, patting your shoulder before she rushed into the kitchen as soon as a beeping sound cut through the chatter and clinking of porcelain. Not that it was too hard to be happier than you—or anything at all more than you—given the mess of sentiments swirling inside you like… Ugh, not everything is like something else. Maybe all those feelings were starting to take up food’s space, making your appetite vanish, but you still grabbed a cookie, since Mrs. Lee could be watching. That cookie looked awfully familiar.

Focus. The bridge. You had to find that driver’s card somewhere in your things.

“Gonna pack up, sweetheart?” Hayden almost gave you a heart attack, standing there when you turned into the hallway, and you wanted to smash his face when he chuckled at your reaction.

“I mean, the bridge’s fixed.” It took you a long moment to gather your thoughts, take them away from how loving and gentle he is, and the kiss was so perfect— Get a grip. “Can’t waste time.”

Hayden took in a breath to say something, but he ended up replacing it with a sigh when you walked past him, shaking his head to himself. “Well, let me drive you to the city, then?” He followed. “I can take you there in a second, no charges.” And it was easy for him to take long strides to stand between you and the room’s door.

Seriousness swam in blue irises, like you’d never seen before, sending a shiver down your spine, and the silence it created was heavy and oppressing. Hayden made you feel weak, but not like the powerful, grumpy bosses would—no, that was like hell, but this? You actually wanted more of it, more of him. If only it didn’t mean putting so many things at stake. Damn him, for seeing right through you with those beautiful eyes and charming smile.

“What?” You asked as if your tongue was made out of lead.

Hayden gave you a look, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to throw yourself in your arms or run to the capital without even getting your bag back from the room, and that same indecision kept you rooted on the ground.

“I don’t want to force you into anything,” Hayden said softly. “But I really don’t want to lose this. You know what I’m talking about,” he continued, despite how you looked at the ceiling, thankful there wasn’t another mistletoe around, but his sigh made your heart ache. Giving up seemed easy until things started slipping through your fingers. “At least keep your promise? The rink opened today.”

Low blow. How were you supposed to resist that voice tone? Not even risky deals had your stomach doing flips like that. Damn. Work.

“I don’t…”

“Will some hours really make a difference?” Hayden moved into your sight. His gaze always carried that softness and intensity at the same time, perfectly balanced. “I mean, it’s okay if it does make a difference, but I want to make sure.” A heavy pause. “You showed up out of nowhere and made Christmas feel different for once in a lifetime. I just…” Maybe you weren’t the only one who had a lot going on. “I can’t just let this go without even trying first. I— You know what I’m saying. Or at least trying to.”

It felt like forever ago, uselessly arguing with that driver while he pointed at the inn, and you had been doing everything and going everywhere with Hayden ever since, sometimes just sitting there and watching him do something as mundane as fix the heaters. It had been such an experience. Worrying about anything other than deadlines, calls, e-mails, signatures. Nonetheless, Hayden had never looked that vulnerable during all this time; he was always strong and caring, as if he was smoothly encouraging you through what seemed to be the most difficult terrain ever—standing on thin ice as if he belonged there while you walked over pointy rocks, preferring the comfort of the wounds you already knew.

“I don’t know how to skate,” you muttered quietly. You’d dealt with so much shame for not having done such trivial tasks during these past days, so admitting it didn’t feel like punching through a wall anymore.

“I will catch you.” The promise meant more than just for skating.

Taking Hayden’s hand felt like stepping into the darkness, but his words from earlier still rang through your mind, and he was right. You didn’t want this to end in regrets, either.

The rink was crowded, with people gathered in small groups while kids ran around and Christmas songs played in the background, ones you’d grown familiar with lately. Warm Christmas lights reflected on the snow, illuminating the place, despite the moon already being high in the sky. Hayden made sure to keep an arm around you, protectively guiding you through the people. He was so caring and gentle while helping you put the skates on, chuckling warmly at the messy waddling toward the rink, but you had to pause when you finally reached the ice.

Hayden stood there so confidently, holding your hands in his. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to for you to know he would be patient and take care of you. Catch you if you fell.

You squeezed Hayden’s hands, finding the exact safety you looked for when you looked into his eyes, and you tried not to think much before you finally stepped on the ice.

“It’s okay,” Hayden reassured as he adjusted his hands around yours, slowly moving back as you moved forward. “Try to keep balance,” he said as he moved to your side, still holding one of your hands despite how one of his arms wrapped around your waist for leverage. “Don’t look down so much or else you’ll lose your balance, okay? Keep firm, sweetheart.”

With a certain notion and Hayden’s tips, you tried to glide instead of taking steps. And fuck, it wasn’t so easy, far from being as easy as people made it seem. You could end up falling on your face, breaking your nose, your teeth, being away from business for so long— Your heart skipped a beat when you lost grip on the ice, but firm hands did hold you firmly, just as promised, slowly helping you regain your balance while everything still spun around you, your chest heaving up and down.

Hayden’s face came into sight, in front of blurry lights, with concern in his eyes. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded slowly, trying to catch your breath. You didn’t fall, nothing happened. Everything was alright. You held his hand tightly before wrapping your arms around his neck, craving his warmth, trying your best not to lose balance. “Never let me go, please,” you whispered, and he knew you meant it beyond just letting you fall on the ice.

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Hayden whispered, kissing your temple, your cheekbone, gently coaxing you to turn your face until his lips met yours again. It felt like coming home—finding home.

︶⊹︶︶·𖥸·︶︶⊹︶

#hayden christensen #x reader #x female reader #x male reader #gender neutral #sam monroe #anakin skywalker #james kelly

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writealongnowdear · 3 months ago

Text

Love me Like a Sailor

Arthur Morgan x Captain!Reader

Summary: You're the captain of a small smuggling ship in need of protection. Luckily, Arthur Morgan, a part of the infamous Van der Linde gang, is more than happy to oblige. He's also a little nervous, but that's neither here nor there.

A/N: This isn't my first rodeo, but it is my first show 😥😥 Be gentle with me, ladies and gentlemen! I don't know when I'll update or how long this will be, so stay tuned 😈😈

☆☆☆☆☆

You’re down on the dock.

You’re working on your ship, hair shining like silk in the sun, plaited back from your face. Sweat drips from your brow, and you lift the side of an arm to wipe off the drops. Your smile is sharp, wicked when you stand and gesture at your crew. The laugh that tumbles from your lips is loud but sweet - rough around all the right edges.

Arthur can’t stop looking. He’s posted up in Van Horn’s grungy hotel, watching you out of his window like some sort of pervert. Adjusting his jeans and shifting his lean and trying to wipe the blush off his face as he watches you chip away at something with a weird little tool, cigarette hanging between your pretty lips, he knows damn well he’s acting a fool.

He has to go down there, eventually. A job is a job is a job, and Dutch would nag him for days if he didn’t secure this frankly inconsequential partnership.

Arthur sighs, pushing himself off the wall and tearing his eyes away from the window. He grabs his hat, jams it onto his head, and slams the door to his room shut when he leaves with a huff. His boots squelch through the sand and silt as he makes his way to the Konstantina, hands gripping his belt buckle for dear life.

The little steam ferry isn’t overwhelming - has a stack, two decks, a paddlewheel, and that’s about it. It’s colorful though, polished shades of ochre, red, and black glittering in the sun. The crew of the ship are doing what Arthur presumes is maintenance. Some are scrubbing at the top deck with sponges, some standing around the paddlewheel, and some chipping away at rust.

Arthur had sat through enough of Pearson’s ramblings about his time in the service to know that a ship was always a reflection of the captain. He tried to make heads and tails of it, the way that the Konstantina was so obviously yours. There wasn’t a speck of rust that he could see with his bare eye, boat painted brightly and polished to perfection. If he focused real hard, he couldn’t tell where the boat began and you started.

He gets close enough to meet your eyes, and his knees go a little weak. Your smile is blinding, as you watch him approach. Your ratty work shirt is rolled to your shoulders, leaving miles of skin uncovered. Freckles travel up and down your arms - Arthur’s mouth goes dry, wanting to count every single one with his mouth and mark them down in his journal. Wants to see how far along your body they go, and if he can’t dig his hands into your hips and leave something of his own-

“Mr. Morgan! Pleasure to finally meet you!”

You stride down the gangway to shake his hand, and Arthur watches you in a trance. When your hand, small and calloused, fits into his own, his breath catches imperceptibly in his chest. Arthur clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. You watch him, a glitter of amusement in your eye as if you know exactly what you’re doing.

As loath as he was to admit it, John was right. He was in deep shit.

“S'good to meet you, too,” he said, voice rough. “Sorry for the delay.”

Scoffing, you grab Arthur’s arm and link it with your own, leading him onto your ship. “It's no issue! I'm just glad you made it. I know it's quite the trek to get out here.”

He watches as you sweep an arm out to gesture around you, and he can't help but smile.

“Nothing I can’t handle, Miss.”

“Of course, Mr. Morgan,” you say with a laugh. You throw your head to the side a bit, revealing your neck to him like you're asking him to bite into the skin there. His grip on your arm tightens just slightly as he tries to breathe - but he can't, not with you right next to him.

“I talked to Mr. Van der Linde briefly, but he said that you’re the one with the real plans,” you say, releasing his arm once you've led him out of the sun and into a small office on deck. He looks around, inspecting the charts on the drawing table and the strange gear that he wouldn’t know how to use if he tried. When he returns his gaze to you, he’s surprised to see a fond smile on your face.

“Ain’t much in the way of plans yet, I’m afraid,” he says, registering that you were waiting for a response.

You snorted, propping yourself against the table. Arthur’s eyes flash to your hips, quickly flicking to your face before you can notice. He immediately knows that he failed, however - you’re wearing a bemused smile.

“Well, I sell up the river and in San Denis. Could use some protection, and in return, we can pay you or sell for you. Some things sell better up north than at a fence. Believe me,” you say, confidently gesturing to the chart behind you. Arthur doesn’t know what he’s looking at when he follows the sweep of your fingers, but he finds that he doesn’t care much.

“You’re the expert, Miss."

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Morgan,” you joke. He chuckles quietly, leaning against the wall next to the desk.

“But it’s always worth a try.”

You chuff, sitting up and looking out the window of the small bridge at the men working.

“Never let anyone tell you that you ain’t a gentleman,” you say distractedly, furrowing your eyebrows at whatever you see outside. You frown and shoulder past him gently, making your way to your crew. He turns to watch you through the window.

“Gentleman,” you say, slapping your hands on the shoulders of two of the men standing around the deck with cigarettes between their fingers. “What’re you doing?”

Both men seem to tense up, awkwardly standing still as they try to come up with an answer. You wait patiently, tapping your foot slightly and raising an eyebrow. The younger of the two men clears his throat, and rubs the back of his neck.

“The deck looked clean from yesterday, so we figured-”

“Oh, dear. Captain’s tax,” you say, gesturing to his cigarette and smiling when he gives it over with a long suffering sigh. You take a couple of drags, the men shuffling their feet as they wait for you to finish. Handing him back his cigarette, you put your hands on your hips and look between the two.

“Deck maintenance is important. I know that you know that. Consider this a warning,” you say calmly. “You know where the holystone supplies are. I expect the deck to be done by noon if you want the rest of the day off. Don’t disappoint me boys.”

Both of them duck their heads, throwing their cigarettes overboard and trudging to the stairs that lead down into the hold, muttering a resigned “Yes, ma’am” as they go. You smile, thanking them as they leave, and make your way back to the bridge.

“Sorry about that, Mr. Morgan,” you say. “They’re good boys, don’t get me wrong. But there’s no room for laziness on my boat.”

Arthur’s lips tug up into a smile. He thinks that he likes this side of you - the side that Dutch decided would be worth their while.

“Nothing to worry about, Miss.”

“Please, Mr. Morgan,” you say, a twinkle in your eyes. “Call me Caspian.”

☆☆☆☆☆

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #fanfiction #x reader #my writing!#i had a lot of fun writing this!!!!

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