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slut4celebs · 3 months ago

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Like Real People Do

Billie Eilish x Australian!Reader

Word Count: 1,524

Trigger Warnings: teeth rotting fluff. billie being scared to get in a relationship with reader?

Request / Synopsis: "billie x fem!reader fic where they meet because finneas produces readers first album? And reader grew up somewhere outside of the USA near the sea and nature and is like completely out of tune with the whole typical Hollywood character? And Billie is just happy to talk to a normal person for once" In which Billie falls for someone who isn't like every other fame hungry Hollywood wannabe.

Los Angeles was full of people, but only about five percent of the population were authentic, real people. She didn't understand how out of all those people, she was able to be introduced to (Y/n), one of the five percenters. She was kind, confident, and out of tune with the Hollywood-esque nature of the people who lived there. She wasn't fighting for the fame she deserved with her singing voice, instead, she showed up and wrote and sang. Her voice was outstanding and natural, and when she first heard it, she was genuinely shocked and amazed. "She's great," she had remarked to her brother, who was working to produce her music.

Finneas smiled, spinning his chair to look at Billie. "I'm telling you, she's going to be the next big thing. She's so natural in there, She's not like everyone else I've met out here. You're going to love her." He promised as he gave the girl a thumbs up as she finished singing. "She's from Australia, I found her on TikTok. She has only like sixteen followers, but I saw so much potential in her." He pulled up her account for her to look through. Billie did, seeing various videos of her singing original songs and covers, going on nature hikes, and Bondi Beach.

She didn't know how much she believed Finneas until she got to know (Y/n) while she and Finneas were working on the album. "I think you'd like it out there." She hummed, sitting on a rock. (Y/n) had convinced Billie to go on a morning hike with her, and the two of them were looking out at the view in front of them, a beautiful sunset shown behind the hills around them. "It's more peaceful. Unless you're in the city. I do… go to the city often, Bondi Beach is one of the prettiest beaches." (Y/n) rambled about her home, chin resting on the knee that she had pulled up to her chest.

That was the moment that Billie realized she was falling for her. When they talked, it was seldom ever about Hollywood, albums, celebrity parties, or Instagram followers. It was about genuine things like nature, a cool bug she saw on her hike, or the deer she saw on her evening runs. Billie appreciated seeing this side of humanity. (Y/n) gave her hope in people. Most people wanted to befriend Billie because of who she was. (Y/n) just liked to be around her. At first, Billie had been apprehensive when (Y/n) wanted to hang out. That was until (Y/n) suggested her apartment. Secluded, no one needed to see them. No paparazzi to get their pictures. (Y/n) just wanted to be around her.

Billie sighed when she realized she was falling for (Y/n) to the fullest as she sat by Finneas. They were almost finished with the album, and then (Y/n) would be headed back home until its release. Billie felt sad about this, but she was nervous to tell (Y/n). However, Finneas could see how this was affecting his sister as she watched (Y/n) with the hint of a small but sad smile on her lips. "You should tell her." He had said, looking up to (Y/n) as she sang. It was a song about heartbreak, of all things. It was absolutely squeezing Billie's heart as she stared up at her.

Blinking at her brother's words, she glanced over to Finneas. "I can't do that. She doesn't like me that way." She argued, returning her gaze to (Y/n). The air was still for a moment as they made eye contact with (Y/n) when she finished singing. Finneas clicked on the microphone, telling (Y/n) she was doing amazing, and asked if she'd like to sing their next song. (Y/n) agreed, giving two thumbs up. Finneas set up the instrumentals for the song they wrote, telling (Y/n) to start when she was ready.

Once the microphone was off, Finneas watched (Y/n) for a long moment before turning to Billie. "So what? She's going back home this Friday. If she doesn't like you, you two can still be friends. You know how easygoing she is. This could be your last chance though. This album does have a chance for not picking up." Finneas said, turning his full attention back to (Y/n). He wanted to give Billie a chance to think about what he had just said. He knew that she needed space and time, that she couldn't just be forced into understanding that this really could be her last chance.

Once (Y/n) finished, Billie stood up giving her two thumbs up. "That was really good. I have to head out, but I couldn't just couldn't help myself from listening to you sing. Bye, Finneas." She waved to (Y/n) and her brother softly. She just needed to give herself a second to think about what Finneas had said to her.

Of course, Billie knew what her feelings for (Y/n) were. She just didn't know if (Y/n) felt the same way. She was typically a very confident person, but with (Y/n), she found herself confused. She didn't want to mess this up. She wanted to be with (Y/n) but she didn't know if this could ever work. After all, once Friday hit, they were going to be in two separate time zones. (Y/n) was going to be nineteen hours ahead of Billie. However, if she could convince (Y/n) to stay, maybe help hype the album so it gets picked up. She knew that (Y/n) wouldn't go for that though. After all, she made it clear that if she was going to make it, she wanted to do it on her own.

"I thought you'd be here," (Y/n) found Billie where they first hiked together, a bit away from LA. Her accent sounded like a song to Billie. She closed her eyes for a moment to soak it in before she turned to (Y/n) with a smile on her face. "Hiking is the best way to clear one's mind, huh? Plus, you can't help but just… take in that view. It's beautiful here." She stated, taking a breath. Despite the air being thicker than where she would usually hike Los Angeles was just more populated. "So. what did bring you out here exactly, Billie?"

Billie patted the spot next to her and (Y/n) sat beside her. She took the girl across from her in before taking her hand. "I'm hoping this doesn't mess up our friendship, but… I like you. I just needed to tell you that before you left. I don't want you to leave. I know that this place isn't your home. I wish I could help make it a home for you though. You are one of the most natural, calm, and caring people I know. You're authentic, and I have grown to love that so much over the couple of months you've been here. I'm not ready to lose that." She admitted with a gentle smile. She was glad that she listened to Finneas, the feeling of telling her lifting from her chest.

(Y/n) had smiled at her words. "I feel the same, Billie. That's why… I extended my stay at my apartment and signed the lease. I even found a way to transfer my job here just in case the album didn't take off like your brother and I hope. I have been wanting to tell you this for a while, but I didn't know how." She said softly. She took in a breath before continuing. "I really like you, Billie. You're fun, kind, and so compassionate." She said softly, squeezing Billie's hand. Her smile widened when she saw Billie leaning in and allowed for them to connect their lips. When they pulled away, it felt like all of the stars had aligned for them.

"So, you extended your stay..?" Billie leaned away slightly but moved to gently cup (Y/n)'s cheeks as she talked. "I'm glad because it would be a tragedy of epic proportions if I couldn't kiss you every single day." She stated with a playful look in her icy, grey-blue eyes. (Y/n) let out a soft chuckle, nodding a bit at her words. "As for the album… It's going to take off. You're amazing. You deserve all the love."

"Thank you, Billie." (Y/n) said softly, kissing Billie again. "I can't help but agree though. It would be an absolute tragedy if I couldn't do that every day." She said softly, as the two turned, watching as the sun began to set. "We should head back down while there is still some daylight." She held out a hand, to which Billie took it and allowed her to lead them down to the car. (Y/n) let go of Billie's hand, just in case of the paparazzi being around them, but Billie quickly took hold of it again because she didn't care. She only cared about being with (Y/n).

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #anne's pop girlies

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laurfilijames · 9 months ago

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Breathe

Part 10

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 6.5k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Fingering. Squirting. Oral sex (F receiving). Masturbation (M). Description of a heart attack and administration of CPR.

Summary: Comfortable domestication sets into your routines after Will officially moves in with you, and a quick stop at the grocery store on the way home from the gym earns Will another reputation at Publix.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who continues to follow this story and pour on so much love and excitement for it! With the events in this chapter, I'll urge anyone who has never learned or is set to renew to please get certified in CPR as you never know if and when you may need it! (In case anyone is wondering I've been watching far too much Bondi Rescue, already have a kink for first responders, and work in healthcare so this is the result 🤣)

Series Masterlist

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Will pulled another one of his t-shirts out of the box he was unpacking and shook it loose from its current fold, refolding it and then tucking it neatly in the drawer that had been designated for him in your dresser.

All of his things were moved into the house thanks to the help of the guys, and after a couple of sleepless nights due to his insomnia put to good use, almost everything he owned had found a new place intermixed with yours, leaving him with only a few more boxes to sort through.

The usual anxiety he got from disorganization was calmed by a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced in as long as he could remember, the normal stresses of moving his belongings yet again whisked away by the comforts of your house already feeling like home to him, the disarray of clothes and personal possessions that made him tick seeming small compared to the joy that was so immense in his heart.

“Hey,” your soft voice sang as you entered the room, walking up behind him where you carded your hands up his back and pressed a kiss on his shoulder.

Will smiled and covered your hand with his after you had wrapped it around to his front, glancing over his shoulder at you to see your face as much as he could.

“I was thinking you might want something to eat. Are you hungry?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Will confirmed, the grumble in his stomach unnoticed until now with how focused he was on putting things away.

“Okay, I’ll go whip us something up,” you offered, puckering your lips against his back one more time before peeling yourself off of him.

“I’ll do it,” he countered, taking an empty box and stacking it in another one on the floor. “You don’t have to do everything.”

He looked at you with a mix of appreciation and guilt, and you instantly knew a lot of your time living together would be spent with him trying to repay everything you did, never wanting you to lift a finger more than you should have to.

“How about we cook together then.”

Will’s smile was crooked on his gorgeous face, the grin bringing out the lines around his eyes that you loved so much, and he followed behind as you turned and walked out of your room, feeling his arms wrap around you to make you wobble with each step.

You laughed and held onto his forearms, squirming slightly as he rubbed his face back and forth on the side of your neck, a low growl reverberating through him.

He eventually released you, stalking you from a step back whenever you looked over your shoulder at him, pulling your lip in your teeth in seeing the ravenous glint in his eyes.

You decided to lean into this mood he was in, the confidence you felt from the way he kept staring at you making you work to tease him in subtle ways; casually touching your neck and chest with a light trace of your fingers, or slipping past him closer than was necessary to grab cutlery out of the drawer, your breasts brushing his arm as you did.

Looking over your shoulder to see if your flirting ways were getting a rise out of him, you giggled when you saw him shake his head ever so slightly, a quiet warning that only encouraged you more.

You had no reason to bend over to open one of the lower cabinets, but did so anyway, sticking your bum out purposefully in hopes he would take the bait.

Straightening yourself, you continued to face away from him, taking a pot and setting it in the sink where you flicked on the tap to fill it, accepting that you should try to make a valiant attempt at actually making dinner rather than only teasing him.

You grinned when you heard him approach, excitement bubbling in you as you anticipated his retaliation.

His large hand landed on your ass with a smack, playfully but with enough force to make every part of you ache, his tone full of wanting as he leaned over you from behind and spoke in your ear.

“Keep acting like that and we’ll be skipping dinner altogether.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” you quipped, turning your body to better admire the way his t-shirt clung to his form as he retreated from you and reached up to open a cupboard, peering out at you behind the door with his eyebrows raised.

“Both. But maybe if you’re a good girl you’ll be made into dessert.”

Heat rushed through your body, your heart thrumming wildly in your chest as he shut the door with some force and closed the distance between you, his dominant stature looming over you and making you feel defenseless in the best way possible.

You closed your eyes, tilting your chin slightly to invite him to do whatever he wanted with you, reminding yourself to breathe as you stood waiting, your body completely still while arousal and lust ran frantically inside you.

You could feel him lean in close to you, the warmth of his body occupying your space, knowing his mouth was so close to yours and that his piercing blue eyes were watching you react.

Remembering once again to breathe, you forced yourself to release the air held in your lungs, your impatience growing as you continued to wait for Will to touch you in some way.

A quiet moan passed your lips with the breath you let out when he caught your chin with his hand, a firm hold on it with his thumb and index finger tucked underneath, angling your head back slightly more.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, the sound of awe in his voice making you smile, your chest swelling from his praise.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he added, his thumb moving to pull down your bottom lip before finally closing what little gap remained between you to kiss you. It was soft and sweet and full of a gentleness that was the opposite of what you were expecting, his hand letting go of your chin to land on your hips with the other one, squeezing your flesh before slipping them up and around your back.

You felt him exhale into you, his body relaxing and melting into yours, and after another minute of slowly tangling his tongue with yours he broke the seal of your lips.

His eyes were heavy when they flickered from your lips that were plump and moist from his and up the rest of your face until he met your gaze, his words coming out quietly but with a conviction you couldn’t deny.

“Let’s go to bed, dinner can wait.”

The house was full of laughter, bringing the biggest smile to your face as you cleaned up a bit in the kitchen, hearing Benny telling a funny story and all the other guys erupt loudly, the happiness you felt in hearing the sound of Will’s true laugh comparable to nothing else.

A full week had passed since he officially moved in with you, and tonight the guys were over for dinner to thank them for their help with moving all of his stuff over to your house; the pizzas almost all devoured and the empty beer bottles accumulating quickly.

Benny strutted into the kitchen as he called out a jab at Frankie over his shoulder, his broad smile greeting you and making yours stretch wider.

“Just remember,” he started, grabbing a couple of beers out of the fridge. “No take-backsies. I know more than anyone what a pain in the ass that one can be to live with but he’s all yours now.” His words came out serious but you knew Benny well enough to know he was joking, the look on his face giving away all the fallacy in his statement.

You laughed and shook your head. “Don’t worry, I’m not letting him go.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” he shouted, exiting the kitchen.

It had been another hour and Frankie, Santiago and Benny were all making their way out the door, Frankie supporting Tom as best he could as more than a few too many beers started to really show their effect on him.

“You sure you got him?” You heard Will ask Frankie as you rounded the corner from your bedroom.

“I’m fine!” Tom slurred, laughing as he tried to shake Frankie’s hold on him, only to stumble out the door and into Benny.

“Yeah, I’ll get him home,” Frankie assured Will, his tone sober and slightly annoyed, this not the first time any of them had had to wrestle his keys from him and drive him home.

“Thanks, man,” Will nodded, closing the door behind them once they all managed to find their way out.

He locked the door and turned around, puffing out his cheeks in a sigh as he raised his eyebrows at you with a knowing glance, then made his way over to the couch.

Will flopped down on it, resting his head back against it, his arms stretched out over the back while his legs splayed out wide.

You looked him up and down, never able to get over how long his legs were in his jeans that fit him so well and how you always found yourself desperate to straddle him whenever he sat like that.

Like he could read your thoughts, he beckoned you over with the tilt of his head, his smile crooked on his lips.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he purred.

You smiled as you slowly made your way over, watching him watch you with satisfaction and a slight deviousness on his face.

You went to grab onto his shoulders and straddle him, only to be stopped when he shook his head and spoke with a quiet demand.

“Not yet.”

You raised your brow and tilted your head, putting your hands up in the air to exaggerate not being able to touch him, a light chuckle sounding off his gorgeous lips.

“Get undressed,” he ordered, the hunger in his eyes making heat burst through your entire body, the need to get your clothes off even more pressing.

There was no time to waste with him sitting there looking like that, so amused and aroused, his confidence radiating through the room between you and into you as you began slipping out of your shirt and then pants, but slowed down when you got to your lacy set of underwear.

Nothing on Will moved other than his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, his stoicism exciting you even more, his patience something to be admired.

You teasingly pulled the straps of your bra off your shoulders in turn, maintaining eye contact with him when you reached behind your back and popped the clasp open, squirming on the spot when it fell to the ground and exposed your chest.

Will tipped his chin up slightly, a subtle sign of his appeasement, his eyes seeming to glow as they floated over your breasts and then down your stomach to where your thong still covered you.

Hooking your thumbs in the waist of it, you slowly shimmied the tiny garment down your hips, only to stop and put it back in place, smiling when Will tilted his head in a somewhat cautionary way, making you abide and pull the underwear all the way down your legs as you bit your lip.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice low and rough.

“Can I come touch you now?” you asked, hoping his answer would be the one you wanted.

He nodded, his smirk ever-present on his perfect face, and you made your way over to him with as much composure as you could muster, really just wanting to leap into his lap and attach yourself to him.

It wasn’t as easy to get your way as you had thought; Will spinning you to face away from him once you were standing between his legs, a small huff of disappointment blowing out of your lungs as you were made to face the rest of the living room.

“Don’t pout,” he chided, his fingers tracing up the side of your thighs and across your hips, then over the curve of your bum, the sensation divine and ticklish all at once.

You felt his face brush against your skin, his beard both soft and rough, and you hummed as you relaxed to his touch, every caress familiar yet just as exciting as the first one.

His hand slid between your legs, his long fingers running through your folds while his other hand gripped your cheek and pulled it apart, a needy whine sounding out of you involuntarily.

You heard him groan as he continued to explore you, feeling your wet coating his fingers, his nose grazing against your skin as he brought his face nearer to your ass, smelling your arousal and inhaling all of you.

The sound of his heavy breathing and feeling it blow out on your naked flesh made you smile, knowing how crazy he was driven just from you standing there ready for him, your curiosity as to what he would do with you next spiking as much as your desire.

With his patience fully spent, Will forcefully pulled you down onto his lap, his hands pressing firmly on your stomach and chest to angle you back against his front.

You could feel the heat pouring off of him through his shirt and jeans, the denim rough on your bare skin as you shifted slightly and wiggled your bum against the hard bulge you were sitting on.

“Fuck,” he growled, his mouth beside your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck as he grabbed one of your legs at a time and threw them over his vast thighs, spreading his legs further apart so yours automatically did too.

You were now completely stretched wide, your cunt exposed to the rest of the room in front of you, Will’s right hand carding down your stomach that moved with your laboured breaths until he reached your splayed folds and inserted two of his fingers.

Your hips immediately began to move the moment he started pumping his fingers in and out of you, riding his hand that expertly massaged you, your soft cries of pleasure breaking through the quiet air already.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked in your ear, his mouth reattaching to the side of your neck.

You nodded, only to have the option of moving your head stop when his hand that wasn’t between your legs came up and wrapped around your throat, applying the most gentle pressure that had you aching and even wishing he would hold it tighter.

“Will,” you breathed, begging for more, the tempo at which you rocked against his hand increasing, his fingers that were hot and slick from your body moving to toy with your clit.

“You look so beautiful like this, sweetheart,” he growled, his tone not matching the sweetness of his words but all of it making you climb to your high even more.

He inserted his fingers back inside your hole, the heel of his hand hitting your clit and providing a firm base for you to grind against, and he released his other hand from around your neck and let it land on your tits, tugging at your nipples to make you cry out even more.

He kept you firmly against him, your skin rubbing on the material of his clothes with such contrast, your nudity feeling dirty and sinful and adding to everything you were feeling.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice strained as you ground on his throbbing cock through his jeans. “You’re gonna squirt all over me, yeah?”

His question rang out through the blood that rushed in your ears, your orgasm imminent and coming on fast, and knowing you were going to make a mess on him brought you to the edge, heat and pressure coiling at the base of your spine as he continued to roughly fuck you with his fingers.

You attempted to close your legs as your climax ripped through you, only to have Will keep them locked apart how they were by pressing his own further out, forcing you to feel every single part of your high as thoroughly as you could, the pace he kept with his hand not faltering.

You screamed and gripped his forearm hard, knowing you were leaving claw marks in his skin, your entire body spasming as you succumbed to everything he was giving you.

There was no rest when you were done, his fingers still working you relentlessly, determined to pick you apart as much as he could.

“Good girl, you're not done yet,” he hissed, keeping the same harsh rhythm that made you break in the first place.

You jolted against him, wailing and pleading, your body calming just enough to start the build on your second orgasm.

“Fuck! Will!”

“Come on, sweetheart,” he encouraged, his breath hot on your damp skin.

His large form supported you as you arched back into him, pressing hard against his front where he felt so solid compared to how boneless you felt from the intense pleasure he was providing you, and with even more persistence, Will’s fingers made you fall apart again.

The orgasm was even more profound than the first, and just as he had predicted he would make happen, you squirted all over his lap.

“Fuck, that’s it, keep going,” he praised, not letting up as he made sure to draw out every second of euphoria, the mess you were making not his concern right now.

You glanced down at his arm that was still working between your legs, noticing his tattoo glistening with your wet, the movement of his fingers on you finally slowing.

About to make a request to return the favour by offering yourself for him to use in which ever way he wanted, you were robbed of the chance, Will efficiently placing you off his lap and onto the leather cushion that was now slippery and getting on his knees in front of yours that he was forcing apart with his hands.

He looked at you hungrily, ready to devour you, his glance almost a warning that made your breath halt in your lungs as you waited for him to pounce, his fingertips gripping at the softness of your thighs.

“I need to taste this,” he huffed out, his chest moving exaggeratedly with heaving breaths.

Will dove his face between your legs, licking a broad stripe up your inner thigh until he reached your soppy cunt, your body shuddering in reaction to more stimulation on your oversensitive sex.

“Fuuuuuck!” The word was drawn out, your head falling back against the couch as you arched into his face, his hands pulling you closer to him as he dragged you to the edge by gripping under your ass.

He ate everything he had coaxed out of you, his groans of appreciation rumbling through you, and you opened your eyes when you felt him remove his hands from your body, watching him unbuckle his belt and then open the button of his jeans, the sound of his zipper pulling down making an excited noise blow passed your lips.

He continued to lick and suck at your clit, swiping through your folds and then swirling his tongue around your swollen bud, giving it a pull with his lips as he peeled his boxers down enough to release his throbbing cock and take hold of it, his breathing and intensity of his movements on you increasing after just a couple of strokes on himself.

Knowing he was transferring your juices from his hand onto his cock to lubricate his actions turned you even more feral, his muffled groans driving you even more crazy with lust.

“God, Will!” you cried, reaching behind you to grip the back of the couch with your hand, riding his face that he kept pressed firmly on your center, your eyes closing again despite being so desperate to see him jerk his long cock in his hand.

He was focused on his task, destined to make you shatter for a third time only now on his tongue, your pleasure adding to his own.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come again!” you wailed, and Will stayed exactly how he was, maintaining the same pace and pressure on your aching cunt as you crumbled, the only change being on his cock that he pumped furiously.

You exploded on his mouth, your cry sharp as your body convulsed, hardly noticing that Will had left your body and stood before you in your weak, fucked-out state as soon as you had finished.

Your tired eyes opened slowly when you felt his fingers under your chin, holding your face up, his thumb swiping on your lower lip where he gently forced your mouth open.

You looked up at him with love and obedience, letting your jaw hang for him, watching his gorgeous face contort with pleasure as he continued to work himself.

The muscles of his stomach and legs flexed wildly as he started to release, his moans growing louder as his load shot out onto your lips and tongue that you stuck out to catch a taste, not shying away from being covered in his cum, angling your torso forward to get yourself directly in the path of it.

It felt wonderfully warm on your skin, landing on your chest that had now cooled slightly from your sweat, your nipples hardening as it dripped down the curve of your breasts and tickled your sensitive skin.

Your smile was almost deranged as you looked up at him, the man who you loved and would do absolutely anything for, never feeling more powerful and sexy than you were now as you sat in your own mess while covered in his, the smell of your love heavy in the air.

He knew it too, his own crooked, sated grin tugging up the one side of his lips as he caught his breath, his hand returning to hold your face as he looked down at you with pride.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he spoke lazily, his orgasm taking away any tension in his body.

Your grin stretched out even more, the most satisfied, warm feeling running through your veins, your eyes closing as you bit your lip and caught another taste of him and relished in the way he loved and praised you.

“You don’t mind if I just run in quickly?” you asked, watching Will nod his head again in confirmation as he turned left at the stoplight.

“Yes! It’s fine,” he chuckled, amused that you had now checked with him twice that he didn’t care if you stopped in at the grocery store quickly on your way home from the gym. “I can get some stuff to barbecue for dinner tonight.”

“Yeah? Okay,” you agreed lightly, happy he was choosing to come in with you and didn't seem too bothered by it.

Will pulled into the Publix parking lot and found a spot near the back that was away from all the other cars and big enough for his truck, raising his eyebrows at you as he turned the key in the ignition and unfastened his seatbelt.

“Let’s go,” he chimed, opening his door with a somewhat forced smile, and you sensed a bit of hesitation growing in him as the amount of occupied parking spaces indicated the number of people inside.

You met him on the other side of the truck after getting out where he stood waiting for you, taking your hand in his before walking through the lot together.

“Thanks for coming with me,” you said softly to him, turning your head and pressing a kiss to his shoulder as you walked.

He gave your hand a squeeze and smiled at you, his sigh audible as you stepped in through the automatic doors.

“Why don’t you go grab what you need and I’ll meet you at the checkout?” he suggested, his eyes surveying the store rather than looking at you.

It was busy, families and couples and even more people on their own weaving in and out of the produce stands with their carts, and you knew Will already wanted out of there as quickly as possible.

“Okay, I’ll be quick,” you promised, already stepping away from him to get a move on despite not wanting to let go of his clammy hand.

Will cursed under his breath as he made his way through the produce section, regretting his decision of coming in as he felt a slight sense of panic start to creep up his spine, and he began counting his breaths to himself as he grabbed some peppers and zucchinis and then moved to where the fresh meat was displayed.

He picked out a pack of chicken thighs and felt some relief that he had efficiently got everything he needed for dinner, only to remember the bottle of olive oil at home was almost empty and he would have to go through more of the store to get to the aisle where it was stocked.

He breathed out a sigh of relief when he turned down the aisle and it was empty aside from a gentleman facing one of the shelves who he assumed was in his sixties, passing by him quietly to stop in front of the bottles of various types of cooking oils, glancing at the prices and regions they were from.

Will reached out for a bottle, stopping when he felt a heavy hand land on his arm, making him shuffle it against the other ones on the shelf and almost fall off.

“What the f–” he started, his hand raising quickly in an instinct to protect himself while his anger did the same in his alarm, the groceries he was holding falling to the ground. When he saw it was the man he had passed dropping to the floor beside him in a heap, he immediately changed his tune, his confusion and defensiveness switching to act on the first aid training he’d practiced his whole career.

“Hey, hey,” he called, doing his best to guide the man carefully to the floor so he didn’t hit his head, a look of pure terror in his eyes as he stared at Will desperately. “It’s okay, buddy.”

“Fuck!” Will cursed, whipping his head around to look for help as the man immediately went unconscious.

Will’s index and middle fingers landed on his neck to check for a pulse, carefully waiting for a couple of seconds only to feel nothing beating against them.

He quickly positioned himself at the man’s side and placed his hands one on top of the other in the center of his sternum, beginning compressions and counting each one in his head.

One, two, three, four, five…

Each second felt like an eternity as Will waited for someone to pass by the aisle, unable to believe with how busy the store was that there was somehow no one around.

…eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen…

Finally someone walked by.

“Hey! HEY!” Will shouted, his voice a boom amongst the normal sounds of chatter and generic music playing overhead, the beep of the cash register scanning food carrying on as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

The other man Will had yelled at stood frozen behind his cart, only nodding his head as Will instructed him what to do.

“Call 911 and ask an employee for a defibrillator. Now.”

The guy fumbled for his phone in his pocket but to Will’s relief was on the line with the 911 operator right away, and thankfully someone else noticed what was happening and came over to Will.

“What can I do?” they asked, kneeling beside the unresponsive man.

“Tip his chin up and back to try to open his airway,” Will explained, still compressing on his chest.

About a minute later and already into his second round of chest compressions, an employee skirted around the corner with the defib in hand, moving quickly to open it.

“There should be scissors in there,” he explained, still counting in his head. “Cut his shirt off.”

They did as they were told, quickly exposing the man’s chest as Will continued to press on it where his unbeating heart lay beneath, trying to get it pumping again.

“Put one pad here…good, and the other there,” he nodded, indicating the spots where they needed to go with his head as he continued what he was doing.

Will stopped doing CPR once the automated voice instructed him to stop touching the patient, waiting for the defibrillator to assess and confirm if a shock was needed, wiping the sweat dripping from his face with his hand.

When you heard an employee who was stocking a shelf say to another as you walked by that there was an emergency happening a few aisles over, your heart immediately jumped into your throat.

Automatically, you started hurrying through the store, glancing down each section you passed in search of Will, trying to calm yourself and reassure your racing mind that it was unlikely it had anything to do with him, knowing nothing like what happened to him before in this store was likely to happen again.

You slid between a group of people crowding around the end of the condiments section, standing by and watching the scene before them that you eventually were able to see for yourself.

Will’s wearied, blue eyes instantly met with yours as you locked in on him kneeling beside an older man who paramedics were now attending to, the apparent excitement starting to settle as the man who, from what others were whispering beside you, was ‘dead’ only a minute ago.

Will gave you a nod that told you he was fine as he continued telling the paramedics what had happened and how many rounds of compressions he had performed, and that after two sets of CPR, the man’s pulse returned after having been unresponsive for exactly four minutes and fifty-three seconds.

Knowing there was nothing more he could do now that the paramedics were treating him and he had regained consciousness, Will stood and stepped over to you, placing his arm around you so his hand landed on the small of your back.

You felt it shake against you slightly, but he nodded again to confirm he was okay when you asked, his deep breath blowing out as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

A woman beside him clapped her hand on his arm appreciatively, congratulating him on his efforts. “You’re a hero!”

A few other people standing close agreed with her claim, and Will shook his head and glanced over at you, his voice quiet when he spoke.

“Can we get outta here?”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, not taking your eyes off of him as you slipped through the crowd and made your way out of the store.

It was silent after his door slammed shut, and you watched as Will stared out the windshield for a minute before sighing out slowly and then looked down at his lap.

You didn’t say anything, simply reached over and placed your hand over his, smoothing your thumb on the back of his hand until you saw the tension he held in his body visibly relax, his shoulders dropping and the flex in his cheek releasing.

His next sigh mixed with a bit of a laugh, shaking his head as he finally spoke.

“Maybe I'll have a better reputation at Publix now.”

You squeezed his hand, watching him continue to look almost defeated even though what he had just done was truly amazing, knowing how much guilt burdened him from the first incident he’d had at the store.

“You’re a good man, Will,” you proclaimed, feeling it to be the most true thing that’s ever come out of your mouth other than your love for him, your heart aching for him that he would never believe it no matter how many lives he saved or good things he did to make up for the ones he’d taken and choices he’d made.

When he remained quiet, knowing his mind was going a mile a minute and beginning to torture him with things he could no longer control, you leaned over the console and reached for his face, landing your palm on his cheek to get him to look at you.

“Hey,” you called, softly, and he smiled weakly as he turned his head and glanced over. “Do you want me to drive?”

He shook his head again, leaning slightly into your palm for a second as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“No, it’s okay. Driving will give me something to focus on. Thank you though,” he said, genuinely, his hand covering yours that still remained on his cheek, kissing your palm before peeling it off of him so he could press a kiss on your knuckles.

“Let’s go home,” he added, adjusting his body against his seat to shift his tired muscles before putting on his seatbelt and turning the key to start up the engine with a low roar.

“I’m gonna have a shower,” Will announced when you got in the door, still needing one after the gym and even more so now after the stress of the emergency at the store.

“Yeah, okay, enjoy,” you said, giving him a quick peck on his lips.

Your eyes lingered on him for a moment, and he looked at you honestly, his tone true when he spoke.

“I’m okay, sweetheart, I promise.”

You smiled. “I know you are, Will. How about I sort us out some dinner? You must be hungry after all that.”

He held his stomach and sighed with a grin, “I’m starving!”

You giggled and nodded, stepping toward him again to wrap your hands around his middle to hug him, angling your face up at his. “Okay, go get clean and then I’ll get you fed.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing you slowly. “I’ll never deserve you, baby.”

His hands stroked your hair as his eyes swept over your features like he would never fully grasp that you were his to love and vice versa.

“But you do,” you corrected, a smile dressing your lips when a smirk formed on his.

Will finally broke your embrace and disappeared to the bathroom, leaving you to go to the kitchen where you pondered what to put together for a meal while standing in front of an open cupboard.

You had really needed to grab a few things at the store, the pantry looking sparse and the fridge brighter than normal with all the empty spaces in it, and closing the door, you decided it was worth spending a couple extra bucks to order in some comfort food after a trying day.

Even though it wasn’t remotely cool outside, you decided some hot, spicy Pho would be the perfect choice, quickly ordering it on a delivery app and smiling when it was confirmed to arrive in less than twenty minutes.

You went into the living room and closed the curtains, grabbing two blankets from where they were neatly folded on the ottoman along with some pillows and placed them on the floor between the couch and coffee table.

A few candles were now lit and brought a warmth to the room that you loved so much, and you turned on the tv, selecting Seinfeld, knowing Will would appreciate having a familiar favourite on that would be easy to watch and take his mind off the excitement of what happened.

The sound of the shower was still going, and while waiting for the food to arrive, you ran down into the basement quickly to stick a clean towel in the dryer for a couple of minutes, hoping you would make it back up the stairs before Will was finished.

You slipped in the bathroom door that was left ajar, placing the hot towel on the vanity for him to use when he stepped out, taking a moment to admire his naked form standing beneath the stream of water, looking statuesque and godly.

Forcing yourself back out of the bathroom and not into the shower with him, you answered the door after hearing a knock, bringing the bag of food over to your cozy set-up.

You had just finished setting it all out when you heard Will walk in, and looked up to see him smiling brightly, his hair wet and sticking up a bit, his grey track pants low on his hips that made his bare upper body appear even longer.

“The warm towel was a nice touch,” he smirked, striding over where he wrapped his hands around you and pulled you into him, kissing you fiercely.

You giggled against his lips, your hands spreading out over his warm skin that was still tacky from his shower.

“Good.”

“What’s all this?” he asked, nodding behind you to the two giant bowls of soup.

You shrugged, “I thought it would be nice after everything that happened. Plus our options here were something between cereal and a can of tuna.”

Will’s eyebrows rose on his forehead in agreement, and he nodded as he looked at you with warmth and love in his blue eyes.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

With full bellies, you moved onto the couch, snuggling up to Will’s side with his arm draped comfortably over you to keep you close to him, his occasional laugh moving your head along with that of his chest as you rested against it.

“I’m glad you were there with me today,” he said quietly, his fingers lacing with yours as he did.

“I was the one who dragged you there in the first place.”

He huffed a small laugh, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he looked down at your entwined hands.

“Maybe we were meant to be there,” he admitted, his voice quiet almost as if he was thinking out loud.

You nodded in agreement. “I think so.”

“I hope he’s doing okay,” he added, giving your hand a squeeze as he thought about the man’s family, hoping he was lucky enough to have someone to love and fuss over him through his recovery, realizing more than ever what it meant to have someone to love you with their whole heart but knowing that if there was such a thing as luck in this world, he had taken it all.

Will tilted his head to see your face better, staring at you for a minute before speaking with quiet conviction.

“I love you so much.”

You reached up and rubbed his cheek, his beard soft on your skin. “I love you too, Will.”

“I feel like I can’t tell you enough.”

Your smile faded out as you took in the perfection of him, the warmth in his eyes and the fullness of his lips, your eyes trailing down to his chest where his clean, porcelain skin harboured his heart that held more love in it than anyone you had ever met before.

“Then tell me again,” you whispered.

He leaned closer to you, his lips temptingly close to yours while maintaining eye contact that made your breath stop.

“I love you.”

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@daryldixonpls @christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

#will miller #triple frontier #will miller x female reader #charlie hunnam #will miller x reader #will 'ironhead' miller #will miller smut #william miller #william 'ironhead' miller

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cialovesklopp · 2 months ago

Text

scene 2 ➺ chasing pavements

summary — emery and kylian’s tale found its beginning in friendship. a bond so deep it intertwined into their souls and forced them together. but while he managed to unwrap, she had to watch as it pulled deeper and deeper till it had woven into her soul completely.

pairing — kylian mbappé x black! oc

warnings — miscommunication, growing apart, hurt, lots of angst again, unrequited love and feelings

author’s note — so here’s part two. if i manage to do everything I have planned, part three should be out next week. and then part four. hope you like it and pls leave comments or feedback 🫶🏾

( series masterlist | masterlist )

for every story, there was a beginning and an end for every tale — beautiful and tragic as they were — had to have started somewhere and ended on another point. no matter how open a simple story could end, it was its ending in its own way that made it so open for its readers, so captivating and yet so deceiving when it was not a clear end — but there was an end. the pain of deception from a story increased when it came to fairytales for they were the ones that we expect to start with a tragic beginning and end with the known “happily ever after”. but not every fairy tale concluded its tale in that way which is why they’re so cunning and deceptive. because the fairy tale was in the end a story and had it’s beginning and end. they were not the exceptions to make the rule but rather the examples to prove what histories had in common.

and emery and kylian’s fairy tale was no exemption. no matter how long and tiring their story was, it also concluded itself in chapters that portrayed their growth — and before the shattering heartbreak and painful salvation, there had been a friendship. a shared bond between them so intimate, the lines between friendship and love blurred.

emery had always been there. when kylian had the world chanting his name and before all of that. when his name didn’t have any meaning to anyone except to the people living in bondy. when he was still known as the boy that always gave turned his homework in too late and dreamed too much about zidane.

the biggest tragedy of her life began when she was eight. their families had grown up together so kylian had always been part of her life. their families were so intertwined that she couldn’t even imagine a second or moment without him. summers were spent playing in the garden, sharing secrets and sneaking food into their bedroom to eat while watching movies. her entire world had revolved around kylian and that had been fine. for a long time they were each other's suns in their own universes.

“tu seras toujours mon meilleur ami,” he had told her when they were eleven and were about to start middle school. and she had promised him the same thing. they had locked their pinkies together and emery had given him a peck on the cheek to express her gratitude. you’ll always be my best friend

that was just the way things had been. and it was enough for emery — until one day it wasn’t.

it was a common belief that friendships between the male and female population were not made to last. that a boy and a girl couldn’t just be friends together and that one was always bound to catch feelings — emery had hoped her and kylian’s friendship could prove those people wrong. show them that it was indeed very possible for a man and woman to just be friends. but of course, she had to be the one to catch feelings for her best friend.

she hadn’t noticed those feelings instantly when it first began. there had been no sudden epiphany and she hadn’t just woken up and realized that she was in love with her best friend. in hindsight she wished it had been that easy. at least then, she would have known what to do; she would have had the chance to protect herself from those feelings before they ingrained deep into her dna and settled there.

but she was never granted that mercy.

Instead, it had started slowly— quiet, and full of uncertainty. like a thousand small aches dressed up as ordinary moments. there were flutters when he laughed and a hollow silence when he didn’t call — but that had always been. he was her best friend. why wouldn’t she feel anything for him? or so she had told herself—again and again—until the words began to taste like ash in her mouth.

It wasn’t until the weight of it pressed on her chest like a second heartbeat, desperate and frustrated that she realized what was happening. that she was developing feelings for him. and by the time she truly understood what was happening, she was already too far gone. by then just the thought of kylian not being more than her best friend

and by the time she understood it, truly grasped what was going on, she was already too far gone. there was a switch and all of a sudden, her heart only beat for him. and there was nothing positive about those feelings. she didn’t feel like she was high the entire time because of them — instead it felt like drowning in silence beside someone who didn’t even know she was underwater.

and perhaps the cruelest part of it all was that these feelings hadn’t bloomed and made her happier —they had bled and crucified her.

all of the sudden their hugs didn’t feel the same anymore, now she longed to hold him longer and closer to her. her heart raced when he laughed and she felt swarms of butterflies whenever the two laughed together. emery had only been thirteen but she knew what it had meant. the end of their beautiful friendship.

she had thought those feelings would go away again, that it was just a phase, a side effect because they spent all their time together. but it didn’t pass — as if her heart refused to let go. no, instead those feelings settled with her and grew deep into her soul, weaving into her identity to the point where she herself didn’t know anymore where she ended and where her love for him began. now she just existed for him.

and as hopeful as she had been that he could grow to share her feelings, she never told him. she suppressed the urge to confess her heart’s deepest secrets whenever he smiled at her and mastered the art of pretending that being his best friend was fine. she forced smiles whenever they laughed and ignored the painful longing when their hands brushed.

her silence became her armor and her biggest weapon that acted as both protector and the cause of her demise.

it had never just been all the things she couldn’t say. it went deeper than that. all the silence had always been about how the unsaid things had started to define her and made her be someone she wasn’t. pretend to be someone she couldn’t be.

that had been the first time she had understood just how cruel fairytales could be. because falling in love with your best friend should have been nice, easy and comfortable. there wasn’t supposed to be any pain and drama because your best friend was the person to know you better than anyone else. it wasn’t suppose to be slow and unraveling and doubting. and yet for her it was because heartbreak had never just been swift and quick.

her sister had noticed the change in her behavior but even her hands had been tied when emery had told her the truth. all she could do to console her crying sister had been to hug her. because even she knew that love in a friendship like that was doomed from the start.

and it broke her when she realized just how deep emery’s love for kylian ran. she had noticed early that emery had the tendency to love too much. to feel much more than the other and give away parts of herself and sacrifices. her little sister had so much love to give; and yet so little to receive for all the amount she gave.

even if kylian started to love her back, he wouldn’t give himself away the way emery did. and if their friendship ever fell apart, it was emery who would feel the loss through every inch of herself.

so as they grew, emery had mastered the art of hiding her feelings. of swallowing every fragile confession until it curdled beneath her skin. she told herself she’d made peace with it—this quiet, invisible love—but her heart never stopped longing after him. it longed with a desperation that felt like freezing in the middle of the heat. like he was the prize she wasn’t even considered to run for.

and she couldn’t tell him. not even when it became too much and she just wanted the earth to swallow her and take her pain away. because she knew it would ruin everything. and emery had decided a long time ago, for the sake of her heart, that she’d rather live with the ache and at least have a small piece of him than have nothing of him at all.

and she bore the pain, even when her soul wasted away because of it. when every day that passed as just his best friend took another piece of her hearts. when every moment she lived in that space—close enough to touch him, too far to truly have him—scraped another layer off her heart. she smiled when he kissed her just to practice for his first date, answered when he called her in the middle of the night and came whenever he needed her.

and all the while, her heart kept stupidly hoping. grasping at the smallest things — a lingering look, the brush of his hand, a smile and small acts — even though the logical part of her knew the truth. knew those acts would never lead to anything because to him she just represented familiarity and nothing more.

it was the hope that killed her slowly for it was a cruel thing. it didn’t die but decayed instead and emery was expected to just carry that ruin like her dirtiest secret. some were lucky and experienced a quick death, painless. other however died little by little every day till nothing was left to save anymore and they had to watch themselves wither away like flowers during autumn.

and with the way her soul was dying from the inside piece by piece, she was certainly the latter.

emery picked up a photograph of kylian and herself. it showed her and kylian during the 2010 world cup, both dressed in france jerseys that were too big for them. he had his arm around her shoulder land she was smiling at him. oh how she wished for those times to come back.

back to when she could spend time with kylian without her heart beating quickly with every glance. when accidental brushes of his hand didn’t mean anything to her and she wasn’t constantly plagued with the need to confess.

she had learned early that life wasn’t fair but fate should have considered being kinder to her. she had never done any harm to anyone. why was she suffering for something she had never asked for? why did she have to endure the agony of being tethered to a hope that cursed her entire being?

before all this mess, emery had had a life. a world that was her own but revolved pretty much around kylian. but she was still emery, the girl who danced barefoot in her room when no one was watching, who loved to braid her hair, who had an incredible adoration for strawberries. she had an identity that gave her a purpose. a self.

and kylian was just part of her life story.

now, her feelings for kylian consumed her and pushed everything else to the back. she now only existed for him, breathed for him. she existed in the shadows of his laughter and in every silence he left. and it hurt so much more knowing he was not reciprocating her feelings. her feelings for kylian erased her identity and left her only as his best friend, nothing more.

she was just his best friend. just. it was the “just” that tore her open the most. because it reminded her everyday that she was forever stuck in her predicament with no way out. that she was supposed to be content with just being his best friend. as if it didn’t ruin her and made her identity cease to exist.

and that wasn’t any different at school.

even there, people started to erase her. they crossed all the things that made her emery and reduced her to his best friend. “kylian’s best friend” — that was, what people remembered her as.

she had tried to ignore it, to not be bothered by it. to act like the tough girl that could take not having any friends because everyone had reduced her to something else. but she was only human and humans rely on social interactions. they depended on them to survive and thrive. friends and relatives were their lifelines that kept them going. kylian had been her lifeline and she had been his so it had been fine to not have many friends.

but when she stopped being the sun in his universe, she was falling and there had been no one to catch her. no one she trusted to soften her fall. so it was no wonder that when her world shattered, loneliness started to gnaw at her skin and tear apart what was left of her.

and as much as she wanted to resent him for it, she couldn’t. no matter how hard she tried to think that she would be better off without him. because it wasn’t his fault. it wasn’t his fault that emery fell in love for him and it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t reciprocate the feelings he didn’t know she had.

emery couldn’t hate him because he had never treated her like she was invisible. he had always treated her like her worst fear and highest achievement; his best friend.

kylian was everything she wasn’t — popular, confident, charismatic. he had everyone wrapped around his finger, teachers loved him, girls attached themself to his side and boys yearned for his approval. and emery? she tried not to drown in his popularity.

she was the girl everyone had reduced to being his best friend. she could count on her hand, how many people actually knew her name. and she had experienced often enough the pain of only being seen as ticket. a way in to kylian.

emery was the girl people rarely noticed unless they wanted to get to kylian.

“so, how long have you and kylian been friends?”

“we should hang out sometime. and you can obviously bring kylian.”

no one was interested in getting to know her. no one wanted to know what she aspired to be, who her idols were and what songs she loved.

no one except kylian which made resenting him so much harder.

her situation was made even worse due to the humiliation that followed it. because everyone knew. everyone was aware of the way her eyes lingered sometimes too long on kylian. her crush on him was obvious to everyone — except him.

it worsened her situation. but no one truly made fun of her. it was only addressed in small remarks and soft sneers, filled with pity when they spotted emery and kylian.

"It’s almost sad to watch her pine for him when we all know he’s never going to see her as more than his best friend. but only almost."

on those instances she pretended their words didn’t hurt even when they cut deeper than bone. she laughed with them even when she was aware that she was the joke and watched as the words sank beneath her skin and left invisible scars.

those comments weren’t said loudly — not of out of mercy but rather because they knew of her suffering in her predicament. they already saw her bleeding in silence because her pain was noticeable for everyone except for him. and everyone knew the friend zone always hurt the most.

so for all her quiet suffering, kylian stayed her world and yet that world was crumbling. slowly, piece by piece and yet too quick for her to pick up the pieces and save it.

the older they got, the more their friendship started slipping away. like a photograph starting to fade till it was completely gone and gone with it was the memory of the moment photographed.

it was gradual at first. it had started with missed calls and texts left on read. forgotten anniversaries and canceled plans or stood up dates. suddenly he didn’t remember the day of her sister's birthday anymore and stood her up on anniversaries they usually celebrated or special dates that were spent with movie marathons.

emery still wore the smile. that soft, smile that took her all of her energy and was meaningless when she accepted his apologies. she accepted them—always late, always rushed—although she was crumbling behind her accepting facade. she forgave as if she hadn’t spent another night in her bed, crying herself to sleep. as if her tears drying on her cheeks were nothing but salty water and not her soul withering away.

she excused every one of his faux-pas, even when the apology slipped from his lips with guilt but no real remorse behind it. because she’d rather have a small part in his world rather than nothing at all. it was the small price she learned to live with to stay his best friend. she had learned by now how to swallow pain so deeply it no longer left a taste—only numbness.

he was busy now and she tried to understand. they both had new hobbies now and his career was finally taking off. he had always dreamed of this and she wanted it for him from her deepest parts. and god she was happy for him. truly.

but while she made sure to attend every of his game — no matter her state or schedule — she was met with deception whenever he didn’t show up for her. when he was absent at the award ceremony for the debate competition she had won. her wins went unnoticed and at the end of the day, pride did not stop the ache or heal the wound his absence left. it didn’t comfort her when she desperately needed solace.

with time she realized, she was his photograph that was slowly falling apart, the memory that was fading away with it. he was all she had left, even if she was no longer the person he turned to.

the other way around however, things were different. deep down she knew she wasn’t his best friend anymore, the person he shared every moment of his with. now she was just a small place in his world treated like all his other friends in school. she wasn’t special to him anymore.

emery’s heart was in agony while she told herself it was fine. it was a lie she told so often she wanted to believe it herself. she had told her parents she was fine when they had started to notice kylian’s absence. told herself she was fine when she would catch a glimpse of him in the hallways, surrounded by people, laughing, alive in a way he stopped doing when it was just the two of them.

they were just friends now. no best friends anymore. but there was still something that bonded them and held them together. that made the pain bearable for a certain time.

that knowledge acted as a painkiller, soothing an invisible ache that shattered her soul into fewer and fewer parts. a medicine that numbed all the pain she was carrying with her.

but her drug was ripped from her when she found out that their friendship was truly over. when she had to find out from gossip in the school that he was leaving.

he was leaving for monaco and he didn’t even tell her. of course she hadn’t believed it at first, news this big, no matter how damaged their friendship was he would have told her.

but he didn’t. the small little bubble she had been living in bursted right in front of her and she clashed hard with reality when she confronted him.

“you weren’t going to tell me,” she whispered when she looked into his eyes and saw the guilt and hesitation.

kylian sighed, “it’s not like that emmy. i was going to tell you — i just didn’t—“

“you just what? forgot?” she cut him off sharply. “i thought i would have been the first one you would have told. so much for being your best friend.”

“you are my best friend emery. i just didn’t find them time.”

“am i truly?” she let out a hollow, empty laugh. “you are my best friend kylian and that never changed. i could never leave without telling you. but you were just going to leave without saying anything. if it weren’t for the gossip at school, i doubt you would have told me.”

“you are the one who stopped talking to me.”

“you’re the one who started to forget me.”

he looked away and emery knew she had hit him hard with her response. good, maybe he would experience a bit of what she lived with everyday.

“you started to stand me up, to prioritize school parties over our annual movie nights — that wasn’t me. you were the one to leave me on read and forget birthdays. i always remembered and tried. i tried so hard to keep us together. i grasped at the smallest straws you threw me because i didn’t want to lose you. and now after everything — after us, you were just going to let me find out like this?”

“i didn’t know how to tell you,” he mumbled quietly but loud enough for her to understand.

she swallowed heavily although her throat felt like there was a heavy lump preventing her from speaking. “so when are you actually leaving?”

“this weekend.”

another fake smile even though her body felt on fire due to the confession. “of course,” she muttered quietly. “i can’t believe i was such a fool. thinking i was still part of your world… so foolish of me.”

“you aren’t. i’m sorry for not telling you earlier. i didn’t know how to tell you, which is why i kept it quiet for so long. i was looking for the right moment.”

“it usually doesn’t exist.”

he made a step forward but she took a step back. not even out of anger but rather because the situation was bizarre. two years ago she would have clung to anything that would have brought her closer to him. make him remember that she still existed even if she had been pushed away from the front lines.

her rejection was instinctual because it felt so strange now for him to reach out. it was simply too late. for him to do it now when it was all she had wanted from him those past week. a simple smile when they crossed paths in school. and even that she hadn’t gotten.

him reaching for her felt foreign, unknown because she had started to get used to being forgotten. and what hurt even more was that he had only done it after she had confronted him.

“je suis vraiment désolé emmy,” he said, voice low, sincere. “je ne voulais pas te faire mal. et je voulais pas qu’on arrive à ce moment.”

— i’m truly sorry emmy, i didn’t want to hurt you and i didn’t want us to get to this moment

internally she screamed, “you’ve been hurting me for longer than this. i wish you could see the scars the love i hold for you has been leaving. how it destroys me

she took a deep breath. “you didn’t want to hurt me? or you didn’t care enough?”

kylian gave no answer. but that was answer enough for emery. she should have stopped chasing that cursed hope earlier and not now when there was nothing left of her heart anymore.

“i used to be your biggest fan because i was your best friend and you were mine. and as my best friend i want you to chase your dreams.”

“em,” he began but she held up a hand to stop him. there was nothing he could say now that would ease the pain of heartbreak. of knowing that all those years of suffering had been for nothing simply because she had stopped being his sun a long time ago. but she had ignored all the signs in her desperate attempt to keep them close.

“i hope monaco is everything you want and that it paves the way for your dream of playing at real madrid. i hope you go on to win everything you want. you worked hard. what kind of best friend would i be if i didn’t want that for you?”

there was a flicker of something on his face. what; she couldn’t name. all of the sudden she was engulfed in a big hug and kylian buried his face in her neck.

emery was taken back by his sudden hug. it caught her off guard — the way it felt unfamiliar, to feel his warmth and comfort when she had already started to get used to living without it. she hadn’t even realized how long it had been since kylian had hugged her last until she felt his warmth again.

just when she was getting used to a world without kylian, he was holding her again. as if they hadn’t changed and were still emery and kylian. but reality was different and she cursed that stupid relentless hope that was coming up again and urged her to hold kylian tighter.

her heart struggled to pull away simply because while his warmth was healing her soul it was also destroying it further. it tore open new wounds while healing the old ones that had formed due to his absence.

kylian used to be comfort and solace for her, someone she could always run to whenever she was in need. but as she felt his arms around her, the feeling of solace was accompanied by something else. sorrow because emery had already mourned the end of their friendship when she found out about monaco. she was grieving a friendship that had been buried for a long time already.

“thank you for everything, emmy,” he murmured. “you are amazing, beautiful and kind. i love you. you’ve always been my best friend emery. the best friend i could have ever asked for.”

her stomach twisted, her heart clenched — all because of those two words. best friend.

that’s all she had ever been to him—just emery. his friend. familiarity. the one who was always there and came running when he asked, who never asked for more and never demanded too much. she was the girl he trusted, leaned on, laughed considerated for more. never loved the way she ached to be loved.

and maybe that was always meant to be her place. maybe that was the role carved out for her from the very beginning. she wasn’t the one who would wake up next to him. she wasn’t the one he wished to dream old with.

but even knowing that she still dared to dream. she was still condemned to that hope that clung to something and refused to die.

it was that damn, beautiful smile that he gave so easily. the one that broke down all her walls she had put up to protect herself. the one that didn’t belong to her— but felt like it did, just for a second.

and in that second, she forgot her place. she forgot the truth.

she saw galaxies in his eyes and imagined he saw something in hers too. and that tiny flicker of hope, that cruel and fleeting flicker, was somehow more devastating than all the certainty in the world. because hope doesn’t break you all at once—it destroys you. slowly. quietly. till all that was left were pieces of who you were before you loved someone who never looked at you in that way.

“i’ll never forget you, i promise,” he told her the moment they parted from their hug.

a watery smile appeared on her lips. “don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

she gave him on last look, memorizing the way the sunlight made his dark eyes appear brown and the way his smile brought out his dimples. something told her this was the last time she would get to see him this close. before his face would be plastered on thousands of magazines and newspapers.

“i promise not to forget you emery,” kylian repeated and emery nodded. it was all she could do at the moment without crying.

before he could say one more thing she turned away. and with each step, she unknowingly walked away from more than just him.

she walked away from the almost, the maybe, the fragile thing they never named but always felt.

and just like that, whatever they had, ended on this street, in this conversation. everything but that stupid hope.

she hoped he wouldn’t forget her, hoped that their friendship hadn’t meant so little to him after all — but he did.

days turned into weeks, then months, and then silence between them stretched endlessly. from time to time his parents would come over and say one or two things about his career but nothing ever came from kylian himself.

emery watched from afar as kylian rose to the french international star, her heart breaking anew every time his name lit up the headlines. she was no longer part of his story, just a memory collecting dust in the corners of his mind. a photograph completely forgotten.

and yet she couldn’t let go of kylian, or at least the idea of him. the boy she spent so much time with. who knew every one of her dreams and aspirations. who had been the sun in her universe.

she watched as he moved on and rose in fame while she stuck in her place, unable to ever move.

#kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe angst #angst #unrequited feelings #kylian mbappe x black! oc #kylian mbappe x oc #kylian mbappe series #kylian mbappe fanfiction #kylian mbappe x black reader #adele songfic #this is me coping with rm being out of the cl #and everything else going on right now

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morgandr · 1 year ago

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Imagine:

Your sophomore year of high school you move to Australia to study abroad. During that time you befriend three girls who later end up being your best friends. Y’all all become mermaids and gain powers which you would never thought would happen when you moved out here.

——————————————————————————-

(PHOTOS FOUND ON PINTEREST!)

(H2O: Just Add Water X Reader)

——————————————————————————-

(TAGS)

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yngrimes · 1 year ago

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Bondi rescue masterlist ❤️

Main masterlist

💘-fluff

🔥-smut

💫-angst

🎉-nothing

Hoppo moodboard ✨️

Married💘

Jethro✨️

Proposal 💘

Jesse

Harrison

Maxi

Deano

Reidy

#bondi rescue #hoppo #jesse #jethro #jethro james x reader #bondi beach #australia #deano #reidy

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haartemis · 10 months ago

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I love you, it's ruining my life

Kylian X black!fem!reader

Author's Note: This is the first part of a childhood friends to lovers series I've planned. I'm new to this, so bear with me and let me know what you think!

I. December 2012

Every evening after school, Y/N and Kylian would race to the park. Their bags slung over their shoulders, their laughs ringing across the paved path that led to the park that had been their stomping grounds since she could walk. Bondy was in the periphery, both literally and metaphorically, but childhood in the city as she remembered it was vibrant, fun, and inextricable from Kylian Mbappé.

At 12 years old, her lack of female friendships meant that she was a shadow to the neighborhood boys. Kylian was one of them; his mother Fayza, and her own mother had worked in the local primary school at the same time briefly, thus forging a strong and constant friendship. It had occurred to her as an adult that it must’ve been a deliberate step from Fayza to invite her to Kylian’s 12th birthday party, given her mothers concern at the time that she didn’t have many friends. It was true that she was largely friendless; she was shy, slow to open up, and had her nose in a book most of the time. But that birthday party changed everything. All of a sudden, the loud, energetic boy that lived and breathed football was her best friend. And that was that.

The sky was a dull gray on that cold December day. Y/N and Kylian made their way to one of multiple tall and imposing apartment buildings that littered Bondy, and that she and Kylian’s families shared. Their earlier kick about in the park with some of the kids from school had been cut short thanks to the biting cold.

Y/N looked down at the cobblestones, softly humming a melody that had been stuck in her head all day. Beside her, she could hear Kylian bouncing his football, the rhythmic thud echoing softly. They were walking in tandem silently, as was routine for them. Y/N liked that about their friendship, that she didn’t need to have to make conversation just for the sake of making conversation.

“Ugh, not that One Direction song again” Kylian groaned.

Y/N looked up, her breath forming little clouds in the chilly air. “Shut up, you know they’re awesome. How’d you even know it was their song I was humming?”

The tip of Kylian’s nose was adorably pink. “Maybe because you’ve been singing it all day? You know you’re never even gonna meet Zayn, let alone marry him”

Y/N let out an indignant sigh. “Yes, I will! When he comes to Paris for their next concert, you’ll see. He’ll fall in love immediately and we’ll get married and move to England and have babies”

Kylian looked at her like she was crazy.

She continued, sighing dreamily. “ And then Harry, Liam, Louis and Niall will be my best friends”

It had been drizzling slightly as they walked but the intensity of the rain increased suddenly. Kylian pulled his jacket off and draped it over her head.

“You’ll catch a cold if you don’t stay dry” he said softly, and her heart almost burst. Then, more loudly, he said, “Ok, let’s say you marry Zayn. You’re going to have to fly between England and Spain a lot to watch me play. Why go through that? I say you divorce him and come live in Madrid with me”

Y/N burst out laughing. “How are you so sure you’ll play for Real Madrid?”

“I know I will” he said matter of factly. “And I know you’ll be a really good doctor, doing really cool things”

It was true, she’d wanted to work in healthcare for as long as she remembered. Her favorite subjects in school were math and biology, sometimes chemistry. Besides, she liked the idea of a noble calling. Y/N was never loud and bold about her dreams, not like he was. She was pleased that he remembered that detail about her she rarely mentioned.

“So, in Madrid we’ll have a really big house with a really big pool” He continued, grinning. “We’ll let Ethan stay over, but only occasionally.”

Y/N stayed silent, not letting her mind fantasize about such a future.

Inside the apartment building they shared, they raced up the stairs and paused on the landing of the second floor. This was where Y/N’s apartment was located, and where they usually said their goodbyes before Kylian bounded up the stairs to the 4th floor.

“Well, I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Y/N tugged at the fraying straps of her backpack before abruptly wrapping Kylian up in a hug. There would be 10 days of Christmas break, and although they lived two floors away from each other, there was no guarantee that they would see each other during that time. She would miss him, she knew. In those almost 2 years since his birthday party, Y/N and Kylian had grown inseparable. The neighborhood aunties had nicknamed them “the twins”, since one was rarely seen without the other.

Kylian instinctively hugged her back, before pulling away. A broad and uncontrollable smile spread on his face as his eyes flickered to the ground and then back up to her. “Um.. actually, I’m traveling tomorrow” He said it in a hushed tone, even though the floor was completely empty and there was no chance that someone was eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Traveling where?” Y/N frowned. Kylian hadn’t mentioned any travel plans for the break before.

“To Madrid” He said with a grin.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh! Are you visiting your cousin there?”

“No, No. I’m going to go see Real Madrid. I was invited by the club, well by Zidane, actually. Papa and I are flying out tomorrow. It was a birthday surprise, they told me this morning” The words rushed out hurriedly, and Y/N could tell he was excited.

This wasn’t the first time Kylian was being courted by football clubs. He was one of Europe’s most promising talents, after all. Especially in the last two years, he’d miss a couple days out of school to go see clubs in England, Spain and other cities in France with his parents. She didn’t know what went on during the visits, but he would always come back with exciting stories and a glint in his eye that would last for days and weeks. She knew this one would be different though. This was Real Madrid, the club in whose jersey he slept at night. This was his dream come true.

Y/N squealed and wrapped Kylian in a tighter hug, before pulling away and lightly shoving his shoulder. “Oh my god. Congratulations, Kylian! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

He grinned even more, shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“I had to make sure it was real first”

Y/N gave him an exaggerated frown.

“I’ll get you a souvenir from there. Something cool, I promise” He quickly said.

She perked up at that before enveloping him in a third and final hug. “Have fun, okay. I know they’ll love you there” She murmured into his shoulder. They said their goodbyes and parted ways.

As she watched her best friend walk up the flight of stairs, it struck her: this was it. Someday, he would go away and never come back. Bondy and everyone in it would just be a part of his origin story.

#kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe x y/n #kylian x reader #kylian x you #kylian imagines #kylian fanfic

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cheriladycl01 · 1 year ago

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My Job is Beach ... - Valtteri Bottas x ItalianOlympicBeachVolleyball! Reader

Plot: You spend time with your boyfriend after the Australian GP doing what you do best, Beach Barbie and Beach Ken

Valtteri had an incredible race, him and Lewis both in a fantastic car as fantastic drivers. And you’d luckily been there to celebrate with him.

You loved going to Australia with him, it was so warm at the time of year the race was and it meant you got to go to the beach.

Which of course was one of your favourite things. Growing up in a small coastal town in Italy, meant you were at the beach pretty much all the time. You went there before school, after school, on the weekends. Even during school, your school was right next to a beach which is where you picked up your sport.

At first it was just for fun, like most hobbies start of as.

But after playing in some matches against others schools across Italy, your teacher and parents realised there was something special there.

You didn’t see it or get it, you just loved the beach do anything you did there was fun to you.

So of course they ended up getting you a coach. Someone who was willing to privately train you and get you into better teams in Italy.

In 2016 you competed in Brazil. Rio De Janeiro was an incredible place and it’s actually where you met Valtteri.

He and a few of the drivers had ended up coming to watch some of the Olympics and you’d bumped into him on the beach with Lewis.

You’d recognised both of them straight away, and struck up a conversation with them.

“Oh! Your Valtteri Bottas! And Your Felipe Massa!” You’d exclaimed at the men and they’d awkwardly nodded thinking you were a fan wanting a picture or autograph.

“What are you guys here for?” You ask, knowing that the race this year wasn’t until November. They were in summer break right now.

“Oh, we are here for the Olympics. We got invited” Felipe admits and you grin.

“Oh, I’m here for them too!” You grin.

“Oh yeah, you here to watch any sport in particular?” Valtteri asked.

“Watch? No im one of the beach volleyballers! Team Italia” You smile.

And the rest was history after that. You and Valtteri got together and he got a promotion to Mercedes after Nico Rosberg left the sport.

It was early the next day, the Monday after the race and you and Valtteri were still shacked up in Australia. You wanted to spend some more time here travelling to your favourite Aussie beaches.

So you took the 1hour flight from Melbourne to Sydney so that you were on Bondi beach. You guys had rented out a place close to the coast for easy access.

You guys were with a few friends, some of Valtteri and some of yours. Somehow your friendship groups just mixed together well. You were both apprehensive at first but realised after a house party that it was fine, the language barrier at first was a little awkward but English being a common ground for most of the group worked.

“Amore mio, please come join us! Then I promise you we will go on a bike ride!” You say cuddling up to him… you’d just finished unpacking and he was laying on the bed cuddling up to you.

“Im no good. And I just embarrass myself Rakas” he sighs pulling you into him and kissing all over your face affectionately making you giggle.

At first Valtteri was very shy when it came to showing you any level of affection and your overly affectionate side thanks to your large Italian family upbringing was very overwhelming to him at first.

But soon he learnt it was your love language and the more confident he got, the clingier he got.

“It’s meant to be for fun! You don’t have to be good at it” you giggle running your finger through his hair as he looks up at you.

“But all your friends are so good!” He exclaims sitting up.

“Mmmm and now you know how I feel when you take me karting!” You laugh knowing you have the bruises to prove just how bad you were at the sport.

“Okay okay fine. But just because I love you!” He says in that gruff lower voice.

You guys play beach volleyball for the majority of the morning until the suns at full peak.

“Barbecue sulla spiaggia?” One of your friends suggest whose English wasn’t great, especially when she was tired after a long morning of playing volleyball, in the sand and under the hot Australian sun.

“She suggested a Rantagrilli?” You say trying your best to translate for Valtteri and his friends who wouldn’t have understood the Italian.

You weren’t allowed to do this on Bondi but closer to where your beach Villa was, you knew you’d be able to cook on the beach there as it was private to the Villa.

They all nod eagerly and before you know it, you guys are using two barbecue for the amount of people you are cooking for. One that’s on the back garden of the beach villa and then one that was already in the sand.

You guys spent lunch munching on burgers and salad, and chicken and hot dog. It was for sure a chest day for all of you, most of you guys being athletes and being on strict diets.

After you’d spent the afternoon cuddling with Valtteri on the beach letting lunch go down, you both went out for a bike ride. He of course had chosen the longest and steepest route to take, meaning you came back drenched in sweat and cursing at Valtteri for making you endure that.

"I want a Dolce Sorpresa!" you groan your head leaning against him and he looks at you.

"A what?" he asks. You'd learnt a little Finnish for him but he still struggled with some of you little idioms.

"Sweet Treat, I'm craving Boba, I saw a shop on the way back!" you grin, kissing him before taking his hand to drag him to the Boba Tea shop!

"Then, can we go to the beach again?" you ask.

"You just love the beach don't you!" he smiles.

"Mmmmmm, my job is literally beach..." you giggle.

y/user

Liked by valtteribottas and others

y/user: Beach, Bike, BBQ and Boba all in Bondi

Tagged 2 people

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valterribottas: nice alliteration hunny!

-> y/user: thank you baby! Thought it was very funny!

fan1: say hello to our resident beach Barbie and beach Ken.

-> fan2: no because the way her job is literally beach and his job is literally car 🥲😅

->fan3: yeah not an f1 driver and Olympic Silver Medalist lmfao 🤣

Instagram Story Caption:

We attempted … we fell lots!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #valtteri bottas #valtteri bottas fic #valtteri bottas x reader #valtteri bottas fanfic #valtteri bottas oneshot #valtteri bottas imagine #vb77 #vb77 x reader #vb77 x you #vb77 fic

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azriona · 6 months ago

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The Escort (fic)

Bucky x Reader, Explicit Fluff, ~4.8k words, AU/no powers. (omg guys, type bucky barnes tongue in the gif search box and OH BOY you'll be there for a while)

Summary:

Nat says you need to relax. Nat says she knows a guy who can help with that. Nat says a lot of things. Man, you hate it when she’s right.

MCU Masterlist ~ Also available on A03

You are gonna kill your best friend for talking you into this.

“This is a terrible idea,” you hiss at her as you and she head up the steps to the brownstone near Prospect Park in Brooklyn. “If it isn’t a joke. It’s a joke, right?”

“I thought it’d be a birthday present, honestly.”

“This is going to be your aunt’s house or something and you’re all about to have a fantastic laugh at my expense.”

“I promise, not my aunt’s house,” says Nat, rolling her eyes, but she does tighten her arm, looped confidently around yours. “My aunt would have way worse curtains. Look, you’re been super stressed the last couple of months—”

“I’m a lawyer, stressed is my middle name.”

“—and you refuse to take a vacation—”

“Again. Lawyer.”

“—so consider this a compromise.”

You’ve reached the front door; Nat leans over and presses the doorbell while you stare at her, agape. “How is hiring a… I don’t even know what they’re called! Gigolo?”

“I think the preferred term is sex worker,” offers Nat. “You’re going to like him. I promise.”

“Nat-tested, Nat-approved?” you say snottily, but Nat just grins at you.

“Let’s just say, this man’s tongue gave me the best orgasm of my life.”

You roll your eyes. “Nat, you’re a lesbian.”

“Exactly,” says Nat just as the door opens, held by the most unassuming, boring man in human existence.

“Again?” the man says to Nat.

“She has an appointment,” says Nat. “I’m just here for drinks.”

“Of course,” says the man, as if he hadn’t expected any other answer. He motions you both inside, takes your coats, hangs them up in a nearby closet—where there’s already half a dozen coats hanging—and leads you down the hall to the back of the house.

“Just talk to him,” Nat murmurs to you. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But give him an hour, okay?”

“I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this,” you murmur back, entirely cross, before you step into the back room.

It’s… not what you expected. You were thinking either Old West bordello, or maybe some high-class, super dressy James Bondy sort of thing. You’d split the difference when trying to decide what to wear, gone with jeans and silk shirt, but Nat took one look and pronounced you fine.

Given what you see, she wasn’t wrong.

The back room is huge, clearly designed as a space for a large gathering. There’s a kitchen on one side, a fireplace with couches on the other, large plate windows that look out onto a patio and garden. Two dozen people mingle, most wearing jeans and sweaters and one or two of the ladies in casual dresses. Everyone looks super comfortable, there’s bright smiles and cheerful laughter from every corner. A few people are congregated around a pool table, a few others are by a large-screen television, cheering on a football game. There’s someone behind the bar, protesting that she has no idea how to mix the drink one of the guys has requested.

It looks like a group of friends, all hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Or a casual get-together of work buddies who all like each other. It absolutely does not look like a den of iniquity or a swinger’s party or other types of sexy shenanigans.

Unless she really is pranking you. It’s hard to tell; the group by the bar lets out a shout when they see Nat, waving her over, and she’s gone before you can even think to grab her by the wrist and demand an explanation.

“You look somewhat startled,” says the man who led you in. He’s got a wry, soft smile on his thin lips. “I take it you expected something much different.”

“You have no idea,” you say.

“I think I do. You thought you’d see crushed velvet and heaving bosoms, or ridiculously overdressed high-end escorts with price tags around their necks and endless flutes of champagne?”

You wince. “Okay, maybe you do.”

He chuckles. “Not that those places don’t exist. But not here. We like to have a more… casual vibe. We want everyone here to feel comfortable, relaxed. Regardless of why they’re here.”

You take a breath and turn to him. “Can I be frank with you, Mr.—”

“Coulson.”

“Mr. Coulson. I’m only here because Nat is my best friend, and she kinda twisted my arm.”

“I see.”

“I have no idea if this is even something I want.”

“Not an uncommon reaction.”

“I have never done anything like this before, or even thought about doing something like this.”

“Of course not.”

“So you see my dilemma.”

“Crystal clear.”

“I’m sure everyone here is really great at what they do, but—”

Mr. Coulson holds out his hand to stop you. “Let me assure you, there is no obligation for you to do anything here. Your friend merely wants you to enjoy yourself.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And if you choose to remain in this room for the rest of the night, no one will think any less of you. Nor will we hold it against your friend for bringing you here.”

“I don’t want to waste your time, that’s all.”

“Who’s wasting what?” says a cheerful, friendly voice.

The guy who joins you is at least a head taller. His brown hair is thick and just a little bit floppy, held back by sheer will and the power of persistence. There’s a bit of scruff on his cheeks, and blue-grey eyes that look like they can’t stop laughing. His smile is bright and easy and comfortable, and he’s wearing a blue Henley layered over a t-shirt, both incredibly soft, clinging to his chest and arms.

He is exactly. Exactly. Your type. You can barely take your eyes off him.

“Ah, Mr. Barnes,” says Mr. Coulson, with a smile. “One of my favorite guests. Let me introduce you.”

You spend nearly an hour chatting with James—which he asks you to call him after the first ten minutes—while you sit on the couches by the fire. James is sweet and funny and seems genuinely interested in the type of law you do, and in turn is more than happy to regale you with stories of his engineering job, working with robotics to create better, more functional prosthetics.

It’s fascinating, and he has a way of making the highly technical details exceedingly accessible.

And then he’s even apologetic for boring you.

“You didn’t bore me,” you assure him. “I think I even understand what you’re trying to do, and I can barely program my phone to stop ringing after midnight.”

“Hand it over,” he says immediately, reaching out. “That’s easy, I can do that in my sleep. You sure about midnight? That’s late.”

“The fact that I’m setting a do-not-disturb at all is already going to get me in trouble at work,” you admit. “Life of a lawyer, we’re all kind of workaholics.”

“Mmm,” he says, typing fast on your phone. “What time do you want to turn it back on?”

“4am.”

He frowns. “That’s not a lot.”

“I work out every morning.”

You see his eyes sweep your body before he focuses back on the phone in his hands. It makes your stomach curl. Particularly since he’s pushed his Henley sleeves up and you’ve been admiring his forearms for the last twenty minutes.

“Done. And I promise I didn’t do anything skeevy like add my contact information. Not that I wouldn’t want to give it to you, but not without your permission.”

The heat rises to your cheeks, and you duck your face a little bit, embarrassed as you take back your phone. “That’s sweet. For the record, though, I don’t think I would mind much.”

“Yeah? I mean, you’re the one who said you weren’t sure about being here tonight.”

You shrug and look around. There’s fewer people in the room now, though Nat’s still by the bar, chatting up a woman wearing her dark hair in a loose bun, and a blond man who looks like he lives in the gym, judging by the size of his arms. “I don’t know. I was sort of expecting something… a little more…”

“Risque?”

“Yeah.”

James grins. “Yeah. This is better, I think.”

You nod. “You have much experience with places like this?”

“Like this? Nowhere’s like this. But places, sure. Worked at a place on the other side of Queens, that would have sent your head spinning down the street. Every single one of us had to wear a themed costume and—you didn’t realize I’m one of the escorts, did you?”

Because it’s clear that your shock is on display for all to see. Your mouth doesn’t drop open, but your eyes go wide and your neck goes stiff, and for a moment, you’re turned to stone.

You also want to flee, or at least go straight to Nat, grab her by the wrist and drag her out of there, her companions be damned.

James is one of the escorts.

And you’ve just spent an hour talking to him. Like a normal person.

Which he is! Of course he is! Totally normal!

“You can breathe,” suggests James.

You suck in a breath. “Sorry, I just…”

“Thought I was a guest, like you? I am. We all are. Phil meant it when he said this place isn’t like other places, you know. I’m here because I want to be. I don’t have a contract or set times I have to be here. I’m here when I want to be, and only when I want to be.”

“Okay,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t squeak. “Sorry, just… you talked about your job at Stark Industries, I thought—”

“I do work at Stark Industries. But I did this to put myself through grad school. I come here sometimes for a lot of reasons, and none of them have to do with the money. Or the sex, honestly. But I’ve had some really good conversations here, and I had one with you tonight, and I hope this didn’t ruin it for you.”

“It didn’t.”

“Good.”

And then—much to your surprise—he settles back on the couch and into what you’d been talking about earlier. As if it was just a blip in the conversation.

And even more to your surprise—you stop thinking about the length of his fingers. And the hair on the back of his forearm. And the curve of his ear. And the way he smells when he leans over to grab a napkin so he can sketch out the design he’s working on, some kind of spicy cologne that makes you want to scoot closer to him on the couch, a whiff of cigar smoke, like he’d been standing near someone smoking, but not actually smoking himself.

How soft the hair on the back of his head looks, not too close-shaven. You couldn’t run your fingers through it, but it’d tickle your skin.

You reach for your wine, only to realize that there’s barely a few sips left. And when you glance at the bar, no one’s there anymore.

Not even Nat.

“I’ll get you more,” offers James. He whisks the glass from your hand and leaps to his feet in one swift movement. You almost follow him, but instead you twist on the couch to watch as he goes behind the bar and fills your glass.

The room really is empty. And James moves around the back of the bar like he’s been there a few times, but not so well that he doesn’t take an extra moment to look for something.

“Nat’s upstairs with Maria, if you’re wondering.”

You sit up a little. “You know Nat?”

“Once or twice,” says James casually.

And then it hits you.

“Oh my god,” you say, sitting up even more. “You’re the guy who went down on—”

James looks up over the bar at you, and you immediately drop your head down on the cushions to hide the way your cheeks are on fire.

“I am so sorry,” you say, voice muffled by the cushions. “That was awful. Can we rewind the last couple of minutes?”

“Nope,” says James. There’s laughter in his voice. “So, she say good things? Or not?”

You groan and cover your head with your arms.

“Now you’re making me nervous.”

“She dragged me here, didn’t she?”

“Good things,” says James, very self-satisfied.

The couch shakes as he sits down on the other end. You lift your head, see the now-full wine glass, and you sit up, tossing your hair back as if you didn’t just completely embarrass yourself. James grins easily at you, like you just cracked the best joke that had nothing to do with his oral skills.

You take the wine glass and gulp a couple of sips immediately. Or maybe half the glass.

James raises an eyebrow. “Nervous?”

“Liquid courage,” you explain.

James’s smile slides into something softer. “Doll, it doesn’t matter why Nat insisted you be here. Or why she asked me to be here the same night. You don’t have to do a thing.” He pauses. “Well, you wouldn’t have to do a thing even so, I’d be the one doin’ all the work.”

You burst into laughter, covering your mouth with the hand not holding the wine, but James reaches out and takes your wrist, running his fingers over the back of your hand and pulling it down.

“It’s a beautiful smile,” he chides you. “Don’t cover it.”

Maybe the wine worked, because before you can second-guess yourself, you speak. “So you’re good at it?”

His grin is positively feral. “Very good.”

You laugh again, eyes darting to the way he’s still holding your hand—though it’s not exactly holding. His fingers trace yours, up and down over your knuckles, light and soft and so relaxing.

“Nat says I need to relax,” you say, eyes on his fingers.

“Huh. She told me the same thing,” he says. “Uh… it’s how I relax, actually. Coming here.”

“Oh.”

“Something about making a woman feel good… it’s powerful stuff, you know? I ride that high all week. Carry it into work with me, and I’m twenty times more productive than I was before.”

“So you’re here specifically to…”

“Give someone a mutually beneficial orgasm, yeah.”

You smile, soft. “Uh… Orgasm. Singular?”

“Like I said, doll,” he says quietly, “you don’t have to do a thing.”

The kiss is sweet and soft, innocent considering. James’s lips are warm against yours, his breath sweet and smokey like the bourbon he’d been drinking earlier. It doesn’t take anything to open up under him, let him lead the way into the kiss, lick into your mouth and twine his fingers in yours.

Your heart pounds as he pulls away, chest heaving.

“This all right?”

“I… isn’t there a rule, about kissing on the mouth?”

He chuckles. “You watch too many movies.”

But he works his way down from your mouth to your neck, suckling the skin gently. Not enough to bruise, enough that you groan and lean your head to the side to give him better access. The stubble on his cheeks scratches just lightly enough to make every inch of skin come alive. His hands hold you by the waist, and you rest your hands on his arms, clinging so you don’t fall over.

“Your friend is right, you’re tense,” he murmurs into your skin. “I can help with that, if you let me.”

“I—”

“No pressure, doll. But I’m clean, and I know you are, too. Something Phil insists on before any of us walk in the door. And I’d love to help you relax.”

You squeeze your eyes closed. He hasn’t stopped kissing your neck, slowly pushing your silk blouse to the side so he can access your shoulder. Not that he’s undone a single button, or yanked at the fabric more than it would allow. He’s barely at your bra strap. And the hands that hold your waist, they haven’t gone wandering up or down, or tried to slip under your clothes, either.

He’s really waiting for permission to take what isn’t on display.

And it’s been so. Fucking. Long.

“Okay.” So soft, so quiet, so lodged in your throat you’re not sure he’s even heard you.

Maybe he didn’t. Because he keeps suckling at your neck, kissing across your collarbone to the other side, then back to your mouth. It’s warmer now; or maybe that’s just the way he’s kissing you, slow but certainly not lazy, his hands finally moving around to your back as he lowers you to the lay on the couch.

And then to the front of your jeans, where he nimbly and swiftly undoes the buttons on your fly.

“Wait—here?”

“We’re the last in here, doll. That means it’s ours. We don’t have to go anywhere.”

You nod, because honestly, if you had to get up and move somewhere else, you’d probably lose your nerve. And you’re already a nervous wreck.

James might be every bit as good as Nat says; he leaves your jeans unbuttoned, and comes back up to kiss you again until you’re once more starting to soften and relax under his weight and warmth. “I don’t have a safeword. Just tell me to stop, if you want me to, okay?”

You nod, a little bit frantic, and he kisses you again, this time moving a little to the side and sliding his hand between your jeans and your panties, fingers searching until they’re skimming over your pussy, where you’re already feeling warm and wet.

The breath catches in your throat; your hand clenches a little bit on his arm. His fingers skim over your clit, over your folds, light and soft, and you think you feel his lips turn up in a smile even as he continues kissing you. They’re gone just as smoothly as they arrived, as he runs his hand to your hip and slowly starts to ease your jeans down.

You have to shift on the couch to help them along, but soon, they’re down far enough that it doesn’t take much to kick them away entirely. The air in the room is a bit chilly, even so close to the fire, and James takes a moment to throw the cushions from the back of the couch aside, giving you both more room.

Then he continues the kiss, even as his fingers continue to explore your hips, your thighs, and your still-covered pussy. Every brush of his fingers makes you shiver, your muscles fluttering.

“Still okay?”

You nod.

“Good,” he says, mouth descending on your neck as his finger slides under your panties to press against you.

You let out a groan; his finger isn’t just covering your clit; it rests right along the center of you, the tip at your entrance, and you squirm against him, not sure if you want to pull away and press closer. He sucks at your neck as you wriggle, trying to find some kind of equilibrium, waiting for you to relax into him.

And you do, slowly moving closer to him, pressing up against his finger, so that the tip almost—almost—slips inside, where you know you’re wet and warm.

He dips his finger in, just a little, and then slides up, dragging the slick from your cunt up to your clit, which he slowly starts to circle, softly rubbing as you try to keep your breathing even, your hips from bucking up into him. Everything is shaking, moving, fluttering.

He kisses your mouth again as you let out a soft cry, riding the soft swell that rises. It’s tiny, nothing you couldn’t get on your own, but it’s been a long time since anyone else made it happen.

You fall back on the cushions, letting out a long sigh. “Oh.”

“Good start?”

Your eyes fly open. “Start?”

He chuckles, then kisses you again; his finger is still, against your clit. “You didn’t think that was it, did you? Doll, that was just the appetizer.”

“I… uh…”

“Do you want more?”

“Y-e-e-e-sss, but I don’t usually…”

He kisses you again. “Trust me?”

You nod, still uncertain.

But the man has his finger on your pussy, and you’re still warm and wet and already you want to press against him again, feel him move against you again.

He kisses down your neck, down your collarbone, down to the first button on your blouse, which is when you realize his hands have moved too, to the sides of your panties, which he slowly starts to pull away from you, throwing them off the couch.

“Lean back,” he says huskily, and picks up the kisses just below the last button on your blouse, on that soft rise of your stomach, the one that drives you up the wall in the gym because it never seems to go away. He doesn’t care, if the way he kisses is any indication.

And then he’s at the top of your curls, dropping kisses around the line of them, down the crease between your legs and your torso, down… down… down…

“James, I—”

He pauses, waits, his breath hot on your dampened skin.

“Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head, unable to speak.

“Good.”

The heat of his mouth on your folds makes you groan, push your shoulders and head back into the pillows. One hand instinctively reaches down, and he grabs it with his, letting you twine your fingers together, gripping him tightly, as he lets his breath warm your pussy. His lips are barely touching you, and already you feel the desire rising, the warmth increasing, the wetness begin anew. You spread your legs for him—you can’t not, you’re barely aware of the way you hook one leg over the back of the couch—and his other hand touches you, helping spread your pussy lips, opening you wide.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers, then runs his nose along your soft folds, before following with something softer, sharper, wetter.

His tongue, you only belatedly, hazily, realize, as his thumb lands on your clit and begins to circle it again.

You lose yourself in the sensations, his licking up you over and over and over. His thumb and forefinger, alternating between flicks and light pressure, twists and circles, riding the high of your gasps and groans, the way you press up against him and send your thighs fluttering around his head.

Wave after wave of pleasure, of release, of rising as the orgasms rush over you, softly one after the other, never-ending. Your cries and moans fill the room, against the crackle of the fire and the soft, wet sounds of his warm mouth against you.

His fingers, wet against your skin, stroke and press, flick and tease, until you are wrung out, exhausted, relaxed and limp against the pillows, without the strength to even continue holding his hand.

The gentleness of his kisses, as he wipes the slick away from your inner thighs, the skin and curls around your exhausted, swollen, touch-sensitive pussy.

He nestles behind you on the couch, wrapping you in his arms, nuzzling into the back of your neck, your heart still pounding.

“You lied to me earlier,” you mumble into the pillow, pulling his arms tight around your torso.

He’s quiet for a moment, his lips on your skin. “Hmm?”

“You said only one orgasm. That was a lot of orgasms.”

He chuckles into your neck. “Guess so. Did they work?”

You don’t answer. You’re already asleep.

It’s an hour later when you finally leave the brownstone.

You’d dozed in James’s arms for a good forty-five minutes, and woke feeling more relaxed and rested than you had in… years, maybe, you can barely remember. Your panties and jeans are neatly folded on the nearest table; there’s a bottle of water next to them, and James is over by the bar, water running.

He comes over once you’ve redressed. You wonder if he even took off his clothes at all. You don’t think so.

“Good nap?” he asks pleasantly, like you’d just fallen asleep on the couch, no nefarious or sexy times preceding.

“Yeah.”

He nods, and for a moment, it looks like he wants to say something else.

“I have to head out—it’s a ways to my apartment. I think Nat’s going to meet you in the foyer, though. Don’t worry about leaving a mess, there’s people who clean that up.”

You nod, suddenly shy and uncertain. Isn’t there… payment of some kind? A tip? Or… something?

“Hey,” he says suddenly, and you look up, just in time for him to lean over and kiss you.

A sweet kiss, unassuming, a press of his lips against yours.

You smell yourself on his skin, the rich muskiness of your come, and you lean up into it.

But he doesn’t open his mouth for more, and all he says, when he pulls away, is a quiet, whispered, “Bye.”

And then he’s gone.

You let out a long breath and slump against the cushions, your hands pressed to your chest. Thinking only, did that really happen?

Must have. You’re still wet, still warm, every nerve still alive.

Nat’s waiting for you in the foyer, already in her coat. No one else is around, and there’s a flush to her cheeks, a relaxed smile on her face.

She hands you your coat. “Ready?”

“Aren’t we supposed to… uh, pay?”

She shakes her head, but she’s got a pensive look on her face, like there’s something you’re not quite catching. “Already took care of it.”

“Nat…”

“Happy birthday?”

You groan and grab your coat.

You’re halfway down the block when Nat says, “Sooooooo.”

“Oh my god. Don’t tell me you’re looking for an after-action report.”

“Yep. How was it?”

You just sigh and shake your head, grinning.

Nat knocks her shoulders against yours; you knock her right back. “Gotta say. Maria’s great, but she’s no Bucky.”

You glance at her. “Hmm?”

“I figured you’d like him, that’s why I wanted you to meet him. I mean, Maria does this thing,” begins Nat, lifting her hands as if to demonstrate, “and I can’t figure out what she’s doing exactly, it’s a weird angle, but—”

“Nat, stop,” you say, grabbing her by the arm. “I was with James.”

Nat stops walking and stares at you. “James.”

Your heart stops in your chest. Your eyes go wide.

“Oh no,” you breathe. “Nat. Nat. Who did I just have sex with?!?”

“James, apparently,” says Nat. “Who introduced you?”

“That Coulson guy! He said, this is Mr. Barnes! And James said he knew you! Twice. I figured he was your guy!”

“Huh,” says Nat. “Who told you to call him James?”

“He did,” you shriek—well, mostly shriek, it’s gone one in the morning and there’s probably people sleeping and you really, really don’t want anyone overhearing this conversation.

“Interesting,” muses Nat. “Not Bucky?”

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

Nat starts walking. There’s a spring in her step, and since it hadn’t been there a few minutes ago, you don’t think Maria’s the one who put it there. “Good night all around, apparently.”

“Naaaaaat,” you groan, falling into step beside her.

“He told you to call him James,” says Nat, smug, as if that makes anything clearer. “I knew you guys would click.”

You almost stop in your tracks. Again.

You stare at her. “Wait. James… is Bucky?”

Nat turns to look at you. “Well. That’s his name. But the only one I’ve ever heard him give to clients is Bucky. Including me.”

Your eyes go wide. You can’t really focus on anything.

“I wondered why the charge was so low,” muses Natasha.

You remember the way he sketched out his current project, the intelligent questions he’d asked about your current case. The way he’d laughed and kept the conversation going for over an hour before he even tried to kiss you.

The way he’d looked at you before leaving, like there was something he wanted to say…

“Nat,” you say slowly, “did… did you set me up with an escort? Or a boyfriend?”

“I don’t know. Did you get his number?”

“He didn’t give it to me, he said putting his number in my phone without permission was skeevy.”

“Okay, so did you give him permission?”

“No,” you start to say, but then you remember.

You kinda did. And then you slept for about forty-five minutes.

You pull the phone out of your jeans pocket so fast, your hands shake.

Quickly you open your contacts.

There’s no James there.

Or Bucky, either.

Your heart sinks, and you bite your lip.

“Sorry, honey,” says Nat quietly.

“It’s fine,” you say, and shove the phone back in your pocket.

It doesn’t go very easily, and when you hear the crunch of paper, you realize why.

Slowly, you pull the crushed business card out of your pocket and stare at it.

The Stark Industries logo jumps out at you, followed by a familiar name listed as Head Engineer. The phone number in the corner is circled several times, as if he was worried you’d miss it, and there’s a notation: Direct Line!

You turn it over and see the handwritten message on the back.

Still skeevy, more so if you’re asleep. Lunch? –JBB

You grin at the card, and then at Nat, and then at the card again, smiling so wide that your face is going to split open.

“Good birthday present?” asks Nat.

“Nope,” you say, pleased, placing the card carefully in an empty pocket, where it won’t slip out again. You hook your arm through Nat’s and head down the street. “Amazing birthday present. I have no idea how you’re going to top it next year.”

“I bet James will have a few ideas,” says Nat smugly, and your laughter echoes down the street.

MCU Masterlist ~ Also available on A03

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