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honeytama · 6 months ago

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Take Me There

Nick Folio x Fem!Reader

A/N: Have been in such a Folio mood lately and could not stop thinking about this scenario. Enjoy!

Summary: Your boyfriend, Nick, is riding to Florida with his friends while you’re stuck at home. While you’re missing your sexy biker, maybe bringing up a fantasy to him while he’s alone will cheer you up?

Content and Warnings: Established relationship, smut 18+, switch Folio, masturbation, JOI (jerk off instructions)/phone sex, the helmet stays on…

Word Count: 3k

Tag List (for all works): @thisbicc

“Baby, call me whenever you need me,” Nick wraps an arm around your waist and presses a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping toward the door with his helmet in hand. “I promise I’ll answer wherever I am.”

“I will. I love you,” you say sweetly as he steps out of your shared place.

“I love you!” He yells, his voice muffling as he pulls the front door closed behind him.

It’s early, the sun not having come up yet, and you stand alone in your house with sleepy eyes and pajamas. Nick’s gone and you’re already missing him.

Heading back to bed, you splay out on both his and your sides soaking in the warmth he’s left behind and stuffing your nose in his pillow. The scent of his leftover hair product and shampoo makes you melt away.

Nick would be gone for a few days on a motorcycle trip with a couple of guys from his motorcycle club riding down to Florida. You’re used to him being away, but this time it feels different. You wanted so badly to ask him if you could tag along and make it a vacation for the two of you, however you knew how much he missed having his freedom. He’s constantly talking about the trips he wants to take with his buddies and as his girlfriend, you don’t have the heart to ever take him away from those; especially when he gets so giddy and talks so dreamily.

Also, Nick’s promise to pick up the phone isn’t a new one, you’re constantly texting him and talking to him while he’s on tour or at festivals. You really can’t bear to go one day without hearing his voice.

—

Your phone buzzes while you relax on the couch that afternoon with a book. Pulling it from the cushion, you eagerly anticipate a message from him. Your face lights up at his name on your screen.

Folio ♡: We’re at a gas station. Over halfway there, can’t wait to send you pics from the beach tomorrow.

Now knowing he’ll have some time to talk, you press the call button. He answers almost immediately.

“Hey, baby! I just filled up… Just waiting for the guys,” you can hear his toothy smile through the call. “How’s your day so far? Missing me?”

Nick has a system in his helmet that allows him to answer your call without taking it off. No one can hear the sounds coming from it, whether it’s music or voice calls from his friends on the road. However, if he’s too loud, the helmet can’t muffle his voice enough allowing everyone around him to hear what he’s saying.

“It’s going well. I’m just reading on the couch waiting for the day you come home,” you giggle. “But, don’t worry about me, Nick, have fun, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” he sighs. “You’re on my mind, still. I hope you know that.”

“I do. I’m thinking about you, too,” your empty hand finds itself on your lower stomach. Lazy, yet sensual circles are traced on your skin over the thin material of your top. Nick is probably thinking innocently, but you can’t help but imagine how he looks in his riding gear. Flannel, leather vest, boots… “By the way, how are the leather pants I got you working out?”

He looks down at his legs as he sits on his bike, reminded of when you shared with him your intrigue over sports biker’s leather. You got him a pair of leather sports pants with knee pads telling him it was for his safety, but secretly, he knew it was because you wanted to see what he would like in them.

He smirks before answering, “I like how they look, but my junk is being destroyed. I think it’s because it’s my first time wearing them. I’m gonna go into the gas station to change into jeans after you hang up.” He chuckles.

You cross your legs, squeezing your thighs together for purchase. Why did he have to bring his junk to mind? Now, you’re really thinking about him.

“Well, maybe before you change,” you say slowly. “You could readjust yourself? Maybe it’ll help?”

Little do you know, he’s half-hard beneath the fabric of his pants just from the sweet sound of your voice, his cock straining against his zipper eager to be released.

Nick takes a peak over his shoulder, to the left and right, before grabbing his groin and massaging the velvety black leather hoping the movement will be enough to readjust his cock to the side of his thigh.

“Fuck,” he hisses in your ear. “Baby, I can’t believe you have me touching myself in public.”

You hold the phone away from your face, giggling into your hand. Teasingly talking into your phone again, “Do you feel better, Folio?”

“Still hurts,” he groans into his microphone. “I bet you’re just imagining my hand wrapping around myself, huh?” He laughs softly.

“Mhm,” you hum in his ear. “Go change into your jeans, baby,” you coo. “Can’t have the new pants wrecking you before you get back to me.”

You hear Nick say something under his breath, “Oh, my God.”

“You can try breaking the pants in more on your ride back,” you suggest.

“Are you teasing me because I left you behind, Y/N?” Nick asks curiously, you can hear a sly smile creeping behind his question.

“Nuh-uh,” you giggle. “Just having fun with you. I’ll call you later tonight when you’re finally at your hotel.”

“I’ll be expecting it,” he huffs, already exhausted with your little game. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you hang up and stuff your phone back into the cushion to return your book.

Nick will do whatever you ask him to in the bedroom. Anything you want, you get; whether it’s to have his hands around your throat and to spank you until you scream or to let you ride him until he’s a puddle of a man, whimpering with each grind of your hips.

He makes you feel like the only girl in the world, and you plan to show him just how special he is too.

—

Nick has settled into his hotel room alone. The plush, king-sized bed calls to him as he’s dressed down to deep gray cotton shorts, crew socks, and a Bad Omens merch tee.

You’re also in bed having eaten dinner and winding down for the night in your pajamas. Propped up against your pillows, you text him eagerly, hoping he’s in the mood to play some more of your game.

You: Hey, baby. Did you make it safe? Are you settled in?

Folio ♡: Yeah, I’m in bed. Gonna go to sleep soon and then to the beach in the morning

Folio ♡: Still thinking about the little stunt you pulled earlier today

The message makes you squirm on your sheets. You want to indulge yourself and stuff your hand into your bottoms, but tonight is about him.

You: Can you do something for me?

Folio ♡: Anything

You return his message with a sly smile.

You: Put your helmet on

Folio ♡: Y/N

You: Please!

You: And take your shirt off if you’re wearing one

You wait a few minutes before he texts back.

Folio ♡: 1 Attachment

He sends a photo of himself under the soft, yellow light of his bedside lamp leaning against the quilted headboard of his hotel bed. His matte black helmet adorns his head and even with the reflection of his phone and pristine hotel room in the tinted visor, you can see his dark eyes staring you down.

You giddily bite your finger at the sight of cheeks slightly squished inside and neck tattoo peeking through the bottom.

Folio ♡: For my little freak

You press the call button and he answers through his helmet after a couple of seconds.

“Nick?” You coo through your phone mic.

In bed, he tilts his head, leaning into your voice as if you’re there singing his name in his ear. He ignores how the speakers of his helmet warp your voice just a bit. It’s just you.

“Y/N,” he replies breathily. “What are you up to?”

“I’m just in bed—,” you start.

“No, baby, what are you up to? Why am I wearing my helmet?” His tone urges you to confess assuming your plans are nefarious.

Wiggling your feet on the soft sheets, you smile against the phone pressed to your cheek. “Oh, I just think you look so good in it,” you spit out quickly. “No other reason… By the way, are you comfortable?”

“I knew it!” His voice comes through your ear excitedly. “I knew you had a thing for my riding gear... And, yes, I’m comfortable?” His tone changes back to inquisitorial.

“Good.” Time to begin, you think. “I should have told you sooner, but yeah, I like the idea of you in your riding gear. I have a fantasy I want to tell you about.”

“I already assumed after you begged me to wear the leather pants for this trip and me in my gear on my last trip is your lock screen…,” he crosses his arms over his chest, listening to you intently. “Go ahead and tell me. What’s going on in the freaky little head of yours?”

“So you know what it does to me, then, huh?” You sigh softly. “Imagine it with me,” you coo. “We’re on the road together. Just you and me on your back as we ride through the middle of nowhere. I have my arms wrapped around your waist and maybe I get bored because we’ve been riding for so long, so my hands start inching lower, down your stomach, towards your groin—,”

“You’re gonna make us crash,” he interrupts you, chuckling through your speaker.

You roll your eyes. “Patience, baby, it’s called a fantasy for a reason,” you smile and continue. “Your cock hardens as I fondle you over your jeans as we’re going 80mph alone down a country road. Your hands caress my thighs at your side and your bulge presses against your leather seat, but it just isn’t enough to get you off. You can’t keep riding with me safely while you’re turned on and distracted, right?”

“No, I can’t,” Nick sighs dreamily before clearing his throat. “How do you come up with things like this?” His voice is soft now as he submits to your fantasy.

“I like daydreaming about things I want you to do to me. Are you getting hard, baby?” You ask, tilting your head teasingly as if he can see you.

“Yeah,” Nick doesn’t even realize that his breathing has got heavy; his heart rate speeding up at the crude thoughts you're inserting into his mind.

“Tell me how hard you are,” you push him. Your empty hand soothingly brushes over the tops of your thighs anticipating his response.

“Hard as a rock,” he groans. “Keep going, baby.” Nick curls his toes anxiously wanting to pull his shorts past his hips, but he suspects you’ll be the one to let know when he’s allowed to.

“Good. You pull over to the side of the road and ask me to get on my knees in the dirt—,”

“What are you wearing while on our ride?” Nick's hands roam over his chest and lower stomach searching for something to do before he can fuck his fist.

“Whatever you want me to wear, baby,” you coo. A relishing grin grows on your face as he feeds his own imagination. You fidget with the hem of your pajamas happily.

His breath catches as if he’s thinking through his favorite pieces of your wardrobe. He hums satisfyingly before answering, “You’re wearing some of those see-through tights and a little, black leather skirt.”

“Mhm,” you agree with his addition to your story. “I’m on my knees unzipping your jeans. I’m pulling them and the band of your underwear down just enough for me to hold your hard cock in my hand,” you pause. “Do you want to touch yourself?”

“Please,” he begs into your ear. “Tell me what to do.”

“Glide your hands down your stomach until you reach your waistband. I want you to feel how soft you are to me,” you instruct. “Then, pull your shorts down your thighs, okay? Don’t put a hand on yourself just yet.”

Nick follows your instructions to a tee. Guiding his fingers over his bare, tattooed stomach, he brushes his palm lightly over the hardened print in his shorts before pulling them down his toned thighs.

“Lift your helmet and spit into your hand, baby,” you tell him and he follows suit.

Pulling up the bottom of his helmet, you hear him spit into his palm before placing it back on.

“Imagine me taking you into my mouth,” you say in a low tone. “Slowly, wrap your fingers around your tip.”

Nick brings his forefinger and thumb over his tip gently pushing the two down slowly over his cock while imagining your soft, plush lips taking him in. He sighs in contentment at his first real touch of himself all day since you taunted him at the gas station that afternoon.

“Do you want me to take you all into my mouth? I’ll let you fuck it,” you talk sweetly into your phone.

Your words seem to flip a switch in his demeanor. “If I had you on your knees, baby, then there’s no way we’re getting home without me grabbing the back of your head and thrusting my hips into your face,” he’s hissing into your ear rabidly now.

“Do it, Animal,” you taunt him.

“You little—,” he scoffs at your use of his club nickname. Nick eagerly wraps his hand around his shaft, coating himself in his fluids imagining it’s the deep wetness of your mouth around him.

“I wish I could see how much pre-cum you’ve leaked. Love the way it beads out of you, baby. It tastes so sweet too. My favorite part about being on my knees for you,” you sing into his helmet.

Nick rolls his thumb over himself gathering the clear, dripping liquid from his tip, and mixes it with his saliva. His eyes roll back into his skull as he strokes himself quickly.

“Are you gagging on my cock, Y/N?” He asks, still stuck in the fantasy you’ve described for him. “Need your spit dripping down your chin for me. Need to see your pretty eyes filled with tears.”

“Yes,” you melt to his words and clench your thighs together. He wouldn’t mind if you brought your hand down your pajama bottoms, too, right? You set the call to speaker and place it next to you before beginning to rub satiating circles over your clothed clit imagining him pleasuring himself alone. “Keep going.”

He grunts through the speakerphone. “So close, gonna cum in your mouth,” he announces. “Swallow it.”

You hum slyly at his words, “Don’t you want to cum in my pussy?”

“Fuck, yes,” he moans while slowing his hand, edging himself off his orgasm.

“You pull my lips off of your cock and ask me to stand. You're such a sweetie for rubbing the dirt off my knees,” you giggle.

“You’re welcome,” he chokes out with a laugh. “Then what?”

“Then, you’re not so sweet. You push my hips first into the seat of your bike, folding me over it until my pussy is right at the height you like,” you describe.

“Gonna rip your tights open around your cunt and pull your skirt up over your hips,” he asserts, continuing the fantasy for you. “I’ve always wanted to fuck you over the side of my bike.”

“You’re doing so good, Nick,” you praise. “Now, slide in and fuck me.”

His gruff moans come through your phone disgustingly as he thrusts his hips into his curled fist. You’re glad you and him don’t live in an apartment or else your neighbors would hear the filthy things spewing from his lips.

“Take my cock. Take it all.”

“Feels so good. Love you wrapped around me.”

“Your pussy was made for me.”

“Do you want to cum, Animal?” You ask him sultrily.

“Yes, fuck, yes, please,” he whines. “Gonna coat your insides.”

“Cum for me, then,” you instruct.

“Oh, shit,” he moans loudly and bucks his hips into his slick fist as he comes undone. Ropes of his cum coat his stomach until he's spent and the rest spills over the thumb wrapped around his tip. Your name continuously falls off his lips in different tones: dreamily and roughly.

As he comes down, he shakily breathes through your speaker and his breaths gradually turn into soft laughter in disbelief at the experience you’ve put him through. “That was amazing. Did you get off, too?” He asks hopefully.

“Thank you for entertaining me,” you smile while picking the phone back up to your ear. “I was touching myself a bit,” you admit to him. “But, I’m going to use my toys once you nod off to sleep.”

“Now, that’s payback for me leaving you behind,” he scoffs with a laugh. “You have no idea the things I’m gonna do to you when I get back.”

“Can’t wait for it,” you say slyly as your fingers brush over the wet spot you’ve made through the material of your pajamas.

“I’m never leaving you at home again.”

#biker folio>>>>#nick folio x reader #nick folio #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf

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chubbyreaderwriter · 1 year ago

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A Friendly Face

Nick Jakoby x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Imagine: Ward’s throwing a party but you’re unsure about coming… until Nick says he’s going that is.

Word count : 2.7k

Warnings: None

Masterlist

“Hey Nick!” You exclaimed, a smile growing on your face at the sight of the Orc’s presence. You worked in the armoury so you kept a record of which officers logged out which weapons and made sure inventory was always correct at the beginning and end of your shift. Since you were never outside the precinct, you weren’t obliged to wear an official police uniform, instead you were instructed to stick to business casual clothes. Today you had adorned your black jeans with an emerald green silk blouse that had the top three buttons left undone exposing the top of your chest to anyone who looked.

Nick gave you a beaming smile in return and you couldn’t help but notice the way his ears wiggled at the tips as he did so. “Hello, Miss (Y/L/ N).” You rolled your eyes at his formalness, “How many times do I have to tell you to call me (Y/N)? Now what can I do for you?” Nick pointed to the large sack he had resting over his shoulder, taking it off to gently place it on top of the counter, “I just need these logging back in please, (Y/N)” he gave you a pointed look as he said your name like you requested and you grinned enjoying the sound of your name coming from Nick.

You couldn’t help but crush on the Orc since you’d first met him, he was unlike any other guy you’d ever met before and it intrigued you. He was easily the sweetest guy in the entire precinct and after a long shift of rude entitled uniformed officers, talking to Nick was a refreshing encounter. You had never understood the prejudice against Orcs, how could someone hold a grudge over something that happened to their ancestors over two thousand years ago. It was just ridiculous. You were one of the few that wished everyone could just live in harmony.

With a small smile, you took the heavy sack and hauled it into the back, shouting through the metal gate to Nick as you started unloading the various guns and protective plates in the bag, “So Nick, got any plans tonight?” Ward was supposedly hosting a party tonight to celebrate avoiding death and whatnot but you knew it was his excuse to get as drunk as possible with the least amount of judgement. You’d received an invitation, everyone in the precinct had in fact apart from a select few but you’d been hesitant to agree to attend. You weren’t all that close to Ward, only having a few little chats here and there when he was the one to pick up the guns. Your closest friend who was invited was Terry who worked in the armoury with you but he was working tonight and therefore wouldn’t be attending.

Your decision tonight was solely based on Nick’s answer here. If he was going, you had an excuse to look your best. If he wasn’t, well what was one more night lounging in the living room watching television and ordering takeout. Nick folded his arms over his chest, “Ward’s having a get together I guess, he wants me to go but I’m not sure if it’s my kind of scene.”

You quickly set the rest of the items in place and walked back out front, leaning over the desk, resting on your forearms placing them close together, resulting in you pushing your breasts together and making your cleavage much more prominent. “Oh! You should come, I’m going and it would be nice to have a dance partner.” You flashed him a winning smile. Nick’s eyes darted all around as he tried his hardest not to stare at the exposed skin of your cleavage, “W-well perhaps I could come for a little bit, it’s not like I have anything else to do tonight.” “Great! I’ll see you there then.”

Nick looked down to hide his blush at your obvious excitement at him agreeing to come to the party. He told himself, ‘she’s just being friendly, don’t get your hopes up’. He raised his hand up as a wave goodbye and left the room, heading back to the corridor outside where Ward had been leaning against waiting for him to return so they could hand in their end of shift report. Daryl let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his partner, “Dude finally! What took you so long man?” Ward raised an eyebrow at Nick’s flustered face before smirking, “Oh I get it, you were flirting with (Y/L/N) again huh? You know she’s coming to the party tonight”

“I-I was not flirting! (Y/N) and I were merely conversing about whether or not I was coming to said party tonight.” Ward laughed, “Oh so you guys are on a first name basis now? What happened to ‘Miss (Y/L/N)’ huh?” Ward chuckled to himself as Nick only got more flustered and tried to splutter out excuses only for Ward to shut him down, “Listen I only have the patience to say this once, she likes you man so ‘Orc up’ or whatever and ask her out at the party.” Nick didn’t respond but he thought a lot about what Ward just said on his ride home. Was it possible? Could you really like him? I mean, he had always thought your conversations had a bit of a flirty and personal tone to them but he assumed you were just being friendly. He was just grateful to meet someone who didn’t immediately hate his guts based on his appearance that he didn’t want to ruin it by looking for a deeper meaning behind everything. But lately he had to admit to himself that you’d been appearing in his thoughts more than colleagues should think about each other.

_____

You huffed as you stood in front of your full length mirror in what felt like your twentieth outfit of the night. Your hands smoothed over the harsh fabric of the denim jacket before your face twisted into a scowl and you ripped your arms out of it and threw it on your bed, along with all the other clothes you’d tried on, checked yourself out in and then decided it wasn’t flattering.

Full of nerves, you chewed on your fingernail as you stared at your open closet as if the perfect outfit was going to fling itself at you and shout ‘wear me! wear me!’ You groaned and ran a hand over your face, contemplating on cancelling the whole night ahead. It had been an hour after you’d originally come out of the shower and now you were starting to feel hot from trying on all these clothes. In your eyes nothing was looking good on you and it was making you feel worse. But no. You’d already told Nick you were gonna be there, you couldn’t cancel on him like that. Really, you were just as much looking forward to seeing him dressed in something other than a police uniform.

With a deep sigh, you dug back into your closet and pulled out a pair of high waisted dark blue jeans that hugged your ass but weren’t uncomfortably tight and flared ever so slightly at the hem to give you that extra curvy silhouette. You picked out a black corset top that pushed the girls up very nicely and sucked your waist in to appear more hourglass. You made quick work of your hair and makeup as you were beginning to run out of time. You would have put more effort into it but you’d decided to spend the first hour of getting dressed picking the wrong clothes to wear and then decided on a similar combination as you would usually choose. You placed your shoes on just as your phone buzzed to let you know that your taxi had pulled up outside. Great timing.

You had to get out a couple houses down due to the street being blocked off by many cars, of which you assumed belonged to the partygoers of tonight. The music was loud to say the least, or to put it in better terms you were glad you weren’t Ward’s neighbour. You walked the short distance down the path and saw a few of the other women attending also in jeans and you immediately felt a lot better in your outfit choice. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you walked past the crowded yard to get inside the house to greet the host. If there was one thing your parents taught you well, it was manners. The living room was the most crowded by far, ‘Jesus’ you thought to yourself, ‘Who knew Ward had this many friends?’ You squeezed yourself through a gap just say big enough to let you pass to enter through into the kitchen. Ward, his wife, and a few others were stood with drinks in hand, seemingly deep in conversation.

You stood straight and walked over, “Hey Ward, Sherri you look amazing, I didn’t realise it was this big of a party!” It felt awkward to shout everything over the music but they seemed to hear you fine. Sherri gave you a big smile and Ward nodded, “Glad you came, your boy isn’t here yet though so here, take a drink.” Ward handed you a plastic cup with a blue liquid inside, from the smell it was surely strong enough to calm your nerves. You felt your cheeks flush at the realisation that Ward knew about your crush on Nick or vice versa but perhaps you weren’t as discreet as you had thought. As if sensing your sudden discomfort, Sherri took your arm, “Come on, let’s dance, I love this song.” Before you could protest, your left arm was pulled forward into the crowd. You recognised a few faces and got a surprisingly large amount of ‘hi!’s, smiles, even a few hugs. It was amazing how friendly people got when they were tipsy though you doubt they’d remember that small detail of the night in the morning.

Sherri had only stuck around for a few minutes before disappearing to go back to her husband’s side not that you could blame her. You glanced around but Nick was still yet to be found. You weren’t allowed to be disappointed for long before another drink was shoved into your empty hand, this time it was pink and tasted a bit sweeter. Another twenty minutes had gone by and already the air inside was far too hot for your liking. You hunched down and began the difficult journey back out onto the front yard. You finally managed to get outside and leaned against the brick wall, sighing in relief as the cool breeze washed over your skin. Your eyes were closed so it was no surprise that you jumped from the feeling of a hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you, was just making sure you were okay” you stared back into Nick’s golden eyes. They looked even more beautiful up close. Your eyes darted over his markings, trying to trace the outline across his cheeks and forehead. You took in his outfit too, his navy blue hooded jacket and white t-shirt was a little baggy and yet it made him look even broader. Nick’s physique had always struck you as impressive and your mind wandered as you thought about what it would look like underneath the clothes. “(Y/N)?” You realised you hadn’t said anything yet, “Oh! Ye-yeah I’m fine, it was just a bit hot in there I needed some fresh air.” Your eyes lowered to the drink in his hand, “How long have you been here, I didn’t see you in there?” Nick followed your eyes to his bottle of beer, “About twenty minutes, I was going to look for you but all the scents, it was a bit much.” That was partially true, all the smells mixing together was more than a bit harsh on Nick’s sensitive Orc nose but it was also that he was incredibly nervous about seeing you. Ward telling him that you liked him had him drowning in self doubt all evening, to the point he was tempted to turn around and go home as soon as he arrived if it hadn’t been for Ward calling him to let him know that you had arrived and was looking for him. He wasn’t going to tell you that though.

Your finger circled the rim of the plastic cup in your hand as your body turned to the side to face Nick, biting your lip as you tried to think of something to say. You glanced up and saw Nick looking you up and down, an unreadable expression painted on his face. A wave of embarrassment flooded you and your arms couldn’t wrap around your waist quick enough, “Why are you looking at me like that?” You said with a light laugh, trying to disguise your insecurity, assuming Nick was judging you.

“Sorry! You just look really pretty tonight. Not that you don’t look pretty any other time, cause you don’t- I mean you do! I-I mean…” You couldn’t help but laugh at Nick fumbling over his words. You felt a lot better knowing you weren’t the only nervous one. Feeling a little brave from what little alcohol you had consumed, you pressed a finger against his lips to shut him up, “So you think I’m pretty?” You bit your lip and the way his cheeks turned a darker blue was merely delicious. Nick visibly swallowed, “I think you’re beautiful, and-and really nice too, like super nice, you’re probably the nicest woman I’ve ever met and I’ve met a lot of women. Not like that, it’s just with this job you meet a lot of people and not all of them are nice, especially humans, but you, you’ve always been nice to me.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, you felt a lot more at ease listening to Nick blabber on like he would always do during your little chats. It was so endearing, you loved it. Nick wore his heart on his sleeve and you thought it was positively adorable. When he noticed you hadn’t said anything once again, you were just smiling at him, he continued, “I don’t really know how to do this.”

“Do what?” You took a small step closer to him and his head dipped in shyness for a moment before raising it once again.

“Tell someone I like them.” Your cheeks were going to hurt soon with all the smiling you were doing. You giggled, “Me either, but we seem to be doing good so far.” At the mention of the word ‘we’ Nick’s eyes widened, “Really?” “Really.” Your attention was brought to his ears as they wiggled at the tips. Without thinking your hand reached up and you brushed your fingertips over his right ear. Your breath caught in your throat as Nick’s hand wrapped around your wrist, his grip gentle but firm. “Sorry, it’s just really cute when they do that.” Nick surprised you by bursting out in a laugh. At your confused expression, he explained, “That’s the first time I’ve ever been called cute.” You didn’t realise Nick was still holding onto your wrist until a pounding at the window next to you jerked you away from each other to see an inebriated Ward knocking on his living room window, his words of “Get a room!” barely audible over the music blaring out the open door. You rolled your eyes and Nick cleared his throat, “I don’t suppose you’d want to go grab a coffee sometime?”

“Why wait? I think I’ve had enough of this party to be honest.” Nick straightened up in surprise and his smile, oh his smile was just heart warming. He held his arm out for you and you happily took it, allowing him to lead you to his car at the end of the street. One of the good things about LA was that there was always somewhere open to get a coffee. As Nick’s hand rested on your thigh during the drive, you thought, perhaps you should go to parties more often.

#bright x reader #bright x chubby reader #nick jakoby x reader #Nick jakoby x chubby reader #Nick jakoby x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #x chubby reader #x plus size reader

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 months ago

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Hands Up

Summary: A little drabble with my favorite Buck.

Pairing: Nick Jackson x F!Reader

Warnings: +18, adult language, cursing, mentions of masturbation, roleplay, implied smut.

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @mjfass , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @ripleyswhore , tahiri-veyla

“Yes?”

“Good afternoon, sir. License and registration please”

“Good afternoon…Is there a problem, officer?” Nick frowned at the female officer. Her sunglasses covered half of her face and she sighed heavily before speaking “There will be if you don’t give me your license and registration, sir”

‘Jesus, you have got to be kidding me’, Nick thought to himself before handing his documents over.

“One moment please” The woman walked back to her car, and through the rearview mirror, Nick watched her speak on the radio before making her way back to him.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle, please”

“I’m sorry, officer, but what’s going-”

“Sir, step out of the vehicle and place your hands on top of the hood, please” Her voice tone left no room for debate and Nick could only sigh heavily as he followed the officer’s order.

“Hands on the hood, sir”

“Alright, geez” Nick placed both hands on top of the warm metal and looked over his shoulder “Can I at least know what this is about?”

The female officer stepped closer to him and Nick could feel the warmth radiating from her body “You’re being wanted, sir”

“Am I what?!” Nick pulled his hands off the hood and tried to turn around but the officer placed the baton against his spine “Sir, get your hands back on the hood, that’s an order!”

“Look, you must be mistaking me for someone else-”

“Mr. Jackson, it would be better for you if you just shut your mouth” She placed her hands on his hips and began to slowly slide them down to his ass and back thighs.

“Hey, hey! What the hell are you doing?!” Nick looked back at her “A female officer can’t frisk a man, I know my rights!”

“Oh, do you?!” She pulled her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose and that’s when Nick caught a glimpse of the familiar intensity in her eyes. “Be quiet, Mr. Jackson”.

He felt his heartbeat going back to its usual pace as relief flooded his veins. “Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!” Nick chuckled but his lips soon became a thin line when he felt her hand on his bulge

“Mr. Jackson, I thought I’d advise you to shut up” Her smile was evil as her hand sank inside his jeans. She cupped his half-hard cock through the boxer briefs and Nick let out a low moan “What are you searching for anyway?”

“Weapons or any sort of thing that can be used as a weapon” She turned Nick around and took a handful of his - now fully hard - cock and let her forefinger scrape the slit on the tip.

“Oh, I can use that as a weapon. Just bend over the hood, pull your pants down and I’ll show you” He smirked before she placed the baton against his lips, making him bite around the plastic.

“That mouth will earn you a pair of handcuffs and a ride on the backseat of the car, Mr. Jackson. So I’d be very careful if I were you”.

A muffled “Yes, ma’am” left Nick’s lips as his eyes stopped at the open buttons of her navy blouse. The push-up bra made her breasts appear fuller, appealing to Nick’s primal instincts of sliding his tongue across her skin.

“Now, Mr. Jackson, do you have any sort of illicit drugs or lethal weapon inside your car?” She pulled her hand away from his jeans so Nick could answer her properly.

“Apart from this lethal boner?” Nick chuckles “No, ma’am”.

“You’re quite the jester, huh, Mr. Jackson? Let’s see if you’ll keep it up when I take you for a ride back to the police station”.

“I’ll gladly go, officer” Nick stated, hungrily staring at how the dark blue fabric hugged her ass as she bent down to check the inside of his car.

“Fuck me” He mumbled under his breath, eyes still focused on her ass, while using his right hand to cup his hard-on through the jeans.

She looked over her shoulder just in time to see Nick squeezing his hard cock through the thick fabric.

“Are you seriously masturbating in front of a police officer, Mr. Jackson?” She gasped in shock, quickly pushing herself away from his car, but not before Nick grabbed a handful of her ass.

“I’m not masturbating per se, ma’am. I’m just checking the damage you’ve caused” Nick smirked when she tried her best to keep a composed face.

“That’s it, Mr. Jackson! You’re coming with me” She snarled, grabbing Nick by his elbow and pulling him towards the police car.

“Can I at least call my wife to let her know that I’m gonna be late for dinner?”

She stopped beside the back door of her car, “Make it short”, she stated once Nick grabbed his phone from his denim’s side pocket.

Nick pressed his wife's contact picture before placing the phone against his ear. He couldn’t help the evil grin that took over his lips when she answered.

“Hey, Angel. Something came up and I’m gonna be late, so don’t worry about dinner, ok?”

Her eyes stared at her husband’s blue orbs as she simply answered back, “Okay, baby”, and hung up to open the back door of the car for him.

#nick jackson x reader #nick jackson imagine #nick jackson #the young bucks #young bucks #aew x reader #aew imagine #masochist writes

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concreteburialplot · 6 months ago

Text

VIRALITY // 12

12 - Liar, Liar*

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc [vallie]

more: chp 11 // masterlist | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 14.7k (strap in)

Summary: Following Noah and Vallie's thrift shop adventure, Vallie faces the consequences of her actions. After the launch of their new music video, Vallie realizes she might not like what she wished for. A pivotal decision reshapes the group's dynamics, leading to a significant change in the connection between a specific pair.

warnings: alcohol, bratty noah, smoking, heartache, yearning, regret, jealousy, unprotected sex, cream pie x2, oral (f receiving), cum eating kinda?, angry nick but also soft nick???, fluffy???, she's just a girl ok, mediocre writing lol, sorry this has taken 500 years, my apology is that it's long as fuck, 18+ MDNI

Disclaimer - This story is AU since it does not follow actual timelines or events. The band here is still fairly small & does things entirely on their own with no other support.

Reminder; Minor band crossovers (greta van fleet / chase atlantic) to supply side characters :)

don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

VALLIE

When Noah and I walk up the gravelly incline to the warehouse, the rest of the band and Bryan are all on their phones lounging on different surfaces - chairs with feet propped on tables, against the brick wall, spread out on the floor. Boredom was an understatement.

“Well, took you guys long enough.” Grumbles Jolly. “What did you get lost picking out scarves?”

My heart skips a beat at the coincidental wording. “Sorry, we really had to dig to find anything.” I mumble quickly, throwing the plastic shopping bags on the ground.

“Well, did you find anything good?” Jolly asks.

“Oh, we found something good alright.” Noah replies, shoving his hand into a plastic bag to retrieve the cursed fedora.

I roll my eyes and playfully smack his arm, “Shut up.”

“No.” He says matter-of-factly, with a popped hip and a hand on his waist. “It’s your fault, you put it on my head.”

“Yeah whatever.” I laugh and wave off his silliness.

I suddenly feel all eyes in the room on us accompanied by an awkward stillness. Of course they’d be thrown off, we could barely be in a room together before we left, why wouldn’t this be strange?

I glance up for a split second before digging into the bags and find Nicholas’ eyes watching us intently. His brows low and eyes sharp.

In my tummy swirls a feeling so closely reminiscent of guilt, similar to when I was with Kras last night. But neither make any sense. Nicholas and I aren’t anything, it shouldn’t matter. Kras and I are just friends. And Noah and I definitely are not anything. And yet, here he is looking angry and here I am feeling guilty.

After handing out the thrifted clothes and a wardrobe change, the boys come out in their new clothes, and they look perfect. The pieces we chose embody each one of them flawlessly. They fit the direction Noah wants for the music video but they’re rather simple. Folio’s is the most basic in a plain black shirt, black jeans, and his sneakers. Jolly’s is a black long sleeve button down, tight black pants paired with his hefty combat boots. Noah’s outfit was centered around the black peacoat we found as the statement piece with a black turtleneck beneath it, black pants and boots. We even picked up something for Bryan even though he was staying behind the camera - he got a vintage Kodak t-shirt, which he thought was “rad as hell”.

Since I showed up in last night’s sweats, I figured I’d pick up an outfit as well. I found a grey sundress. It’s something I would normally only wear in casual settings, but I wanted to be comfy and it was the only halfway cute thing in the thrift shop.

The outfit I picked out for Nicholas was the best one, but I may be biased. It’s a thin black sweater with thumb holes atop a black turtleneck paired with baggy, strappy pants and finished off with black leather combat boots.

With the new uniforms, the band and crew seem to have a reinvigorated morale. It did exactly what I needed it to do, it gave them the spark they needed to bring the music video to life.

We spend our time running the song over and over while Bryan gets shots from all angles. I got some content for posting and even posed the boys for some social media trends, which they all hated except Folio, and Bryan in the background. Since I was done gathering content, I sat at the plastic picnic table on the far side of the warehouse diagonal from the makeshift stage while they continued to shoot slightly different variations.

I plug my phone and camera into my Macbook to import the photos and videos I took to begin editing them and schedule them for posting.

“Vallie.” I hear a voice call amongst mumbling between a take.

I snap up to match the voice to the source: Noah.

“What’s up?” I respond, half expecting to be met with some sort of criticism or snarky remark.

“Were you paying attention to this last take?” He questions, but not in an accusatory way that I’d normally anticipate, just genuine curiosity.

“A little, why?”

“What did you think of the intro?”

A hush blankets the room and the rest of them look between us as if they’d seen a ghost. I’m glad we’re finally kind of getting along but I wish he wouldn’t make it so obvious. Especially in front of Nicholas. The odd feeling in the room dances a chill up my arms leaving goosebumps behind.

“Oh um, I liked it? It was cool.” Truthfully, I’m not sure that I did like it, but I just wanted to move on from being in the spotlight.

He gives me a wide, genuine grin like a kid in the middle of a playground, “Sick, I thought so too.”

I glance over at Bryan, who is slowly but surely becoming my lifeline in these situations. He offers a ‘I don’t know either but just roll with it?’ look with a brow wiggle and a barely noticeable shrug.

Mid-shoot everyone needed some sort of touch up. I somehow had my job description expanded to include wardrobe and makeup.

The one I dreaded the most was Nicholas.

I walk over to him, mute, focusing my eyes straight forward which for me happens to be his chest. I keep my gaze away from his eyes as I fix the collar of his cardigan.

He too keeps his focus off of me.

“Sorry I acted like an ass earlier.” He says sounding partially sincere, partially grumpy. “It was out of line, and I’m sorry.”

I clear my throat. An apology was the last thing I expected and the last thing I deserve. “It’s okay.”

A quiet pause fills the small space between us.

“So, you’re seeing someone?” He questions casually but I can tell it’s anything but casual.

I press my lips together contemplating if I really want to commit this hard to the ruse. But Kras is right, and my gut is right. No matter how much I want to stay entangled with him, it can’t continue. I don’t know how well this action plan is going to work, but I have to try.

“Yes.” I lie with fake confidence. “Kind of.”

He takes a moment to process my response which makes me question how good of a job I did with lying. Finally, he nods, his eyes still locked on something past the opening of the warehouse.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” I sweeten the lie.

“I guess that’s a good thing then, you know, for our jobs and all.” His voice light, as if he’s purposefully making it seem more nonchalant than it is. I know I hurt him, I can hear it in his voice. Whether it was his heart or his ego that I hurt, I’m not sure but all I know is that we went too far. “It just would’ve been nice to know.”

The painful twist in my chest confirms that I made the right decision to stick to the plan. I'm already so invested in him that it hurts; I can’t imagine how much worse it would be if I let myself fall any deeper.

I swallow the very faint lump in my throat and flatten out the thin material resting on his chest. Spending another night with him was a bigger mistake than I realized because just the warmth of him beneath my fingertips makes me want to melt right into him. I wish I didn’t know what he felt like, what he sounded like, what he tasted like. Suddenly I want to take everything back. I want to unkiss him, unfuck him, unknow him. In the span of knowing them and being on their team, I’ve regretted it about 75% of the time but there, standing in front of him, it is a solid 110%.

I wish I had just heard them on the radio and found myself at a show,

or met them in passing during industry events,

or maybe bumped into him in a coffee shop where he suggests his favorite latte,

or literally any other scenario that would grant me the luxury of just reaching up and kissing him without feeling confliction or guilt.

The reality of the whole situation hits me all at once and my entire mood shifts abruptly, in a way I’ve never let happen while I work. I’m normally exceptionally skilled in the art of separating my emotions from most other things but this cuts through all of that. He lowered my walls more than anyone ever had and reached a part of me I’ve never let someone do before. I swallow hard and blink the burning in my eyes away. The last thing I need is for him to see my eyes full of tears.

So, I do what I think makes the most sense. I yank each edge of my mouth into a tight-lipped smile and step back to hold out an overly professional hand, “Friends?”

He nearly grimaces at the word and begrudgingly snakes his hand into mine, gripping it firmly and giving it a shake. “Whatever you want, Vallie.” He grumbles sarcastically before walking off back to the set.

He leaves me with my hand vacant and my eyes blinking at the wall he just stood in front of. I knew he wasn’t happy with me, but I didn’t know we’d end up starting over.

The music video that Noah had fast tracked was finally finished regardless of what the others felt. It was filmed and edited by Bryan with Noah glued to his side the whole time to make sure it followed his “vision” for it perfectly. It was hyper tuned into the details and nuances Noah was looking to cultivate for the prematurely released song.

Two weeks later, I hit post on the music video with the band scattered around the rehearsing studio, celebrating with beers and laughter. I roll my eyes playfully at the happy, excited actions that ensue behind me but bite down on my lip to keep myself from smiling. While it’s not everything they or I wanted, it’s still a damn good video and I’m proud of them for it.

All entanglements aside, it’s the first time that I’ve felt like I truly helped them achieve something great. Their growth and publicity had been steady but incredibly slow despite all of my best efforts. Their initial boom from the band going viral months ago plateaued. I’ve been chalking it up to the lack of content, but the faint fear of chronic stagnation has been creeping up my ribs every so often. It’s something I warned them from the beginning - “Anyone can go viral, but it won’t last.” I recall telling them at the very start. “Don’t get attached to the numbers.” I told them that it burns bright for a split second then gets snuffed out by the next big thing to come along. But they didn’t listen to me, and I can see the disappointment and fear worsening in Noah’s features with each day that passes. It’s all made me wonder if there was even a place in the scene for them, or if what their label is trying to accomplish is possible. It made me question my ability to execute the task handed to me.

I posted all of the music video promotions across all forms of media and posted some of the pre-filmed short form content onto TikTok and Instagram. “Alright well, your part is done now, I’m just gonna keep working.”

I stand, beginning to gather all the papers scattered over the table. “With all the teasing I posted for the video and all the extra content we filmed, engagement has gone up by about 5%. I estimate it going up by about another 10-15% for the next couple of weeks while the music video gains traction.” I dropped the edges of the paperwork against the table a couple times to align them into a neat stack. “You’ve gained a significant amount of followers as well, at least compared to before the promo content.”

“Aw Vallie,” Bryan throws an arm around my shoulders pulling me into a side hug. “Is this your way of saying we did a good job?”

A small smile tugs at one edge of my lips, “I’m just saying that the music video is projected to do really well.” I sink my teeth into my lip again, this time to keep from speaking but it fails. “And, I think you guys did a great job.” I rush the words out at the end.

The large grin is nearly identical across the five boys' faces, each one unique in their features, but the glow of finally birthing a new project is potent in all their smiles.

As they mingle about, I return my focus to my screen and sit back down. Likes and comments begin to pour in, faster than expected. The promo posts over the past couple weeks built up a significant amount of anticipation and excitement, I just didn’t expect it to gain momentum so fast. Compared to other clients, this engagement is nothing, a couple hundred comments within the first 30 minutes, but for them, it’s huge. I decide to keep it to myself for now to not get their hopes up too high since the numbers could plateau quickly.

But before I exit completely, my eyes catch a couple comments that churn my stomach unexpectedly.

nobody told me the singer was so hot !!

damn he’s fine as fuck

oh my god Noah is so !!!!

the whole band is fine wtf

god that bassist is sooo sexy

My eyes narrow and my teeth involuntarily clench at the last comment. A dull ache throbs in my chest at the words, a feeling I’m not quite sure I’ve ever experienced before.

My plan to leverage their looks was working. This is exactly what I wanted, what I held meetings for, what I fought for, what I was hired for - so why does it suddenly feel like a loss?

I glance at Nicholas, who’s joking with the others, his face lit up with a carefree smile. My heart aches but, this is exactly what I wanted for him. For them. Yet, the jealousy gnaws at me, sharp and unrelenting. I want to be happy for them, I should be happy for them. But each comment feels like a tiny dagger, reminding me of what I’ve deprived myself of.

I exhale and close the lid to my laptop. I tap along the table just trying to shake my head from whatever confusion is clouding it. I just need to get out.

The group talks amongst themselves as they celebrate, and I inevitably fade into the background. I start gathering all my belongings to throw into my tote bag to hopefully make a quiet exit.

“You liked the music video?” A voice startles me from across the round table.

I look up to find Noah. I quickly glance to the red solo cup he’s holding carefully in his hand. It makes me wonder what’s in it and if it will lead to the same aftermath I've seen before with a drunken Noah. It’s only when I look around that I realize that each of them has a drink in hand and they’ve put music on.

“Yeah.” I shrug, “I think you guys did good.”

“We, you mean.” He corrects.

“We?”

“Yeah. You helped pick out the outfits and did all the promo stuff, did you not?” He raises a brow.

“Yeah? I guess I did.”

Noah rests his arm on a nearby high-top table, taking a sip of his drink. “We made a deal, you and I a while ago, do you remember it?” He questions.

I silently filter through our meetings in my mind. While working together we’ve made many deals, but I land on the one I know he’s talking about and a smile creeps across my lips. “‘I’ll do my job well, if you do yours.’”

An unexpected wide grin pulls at his mouth, “Well, I think we both did our jobs well here.”

He was right, we did. Looking back at the meeting just a few months ago seems so juvenile now. Noah was so angry about me being brought on to the crew and while I wouldn’t say he’s necessarily thrilled that I’m here now, I can tell that I’ve grown on him. I proved myself to him, at least a little bit.

“Yeah, we did.” I nod with a genuine smile, “Proud of us.”

He wrapped an arm around me and gave me a squeeze, smiling down at me. “Me too.”

I leaned into him and caught a glimpse of Nicholas watching us both. The look on his face was flat and filled with an unreadable expression.

My eyes flicker down immediately to avoid him then pull away from Noah’s grasp. He then goes on to ramble about music and the album, I’m not quite sure why he’s over here talking to me and not to the rest of them but, here I am. His words fade into the background as I look past him to spot Nick again. This time he’s caught up in some excited conversation between Brian and Folio. His wide smile meets his eyes filling them with such happiness as he laughs. His tattooed fingers interrupt the condensation on a beer bottle and his hair is gathered up into a low bun. He looks breathtaking and it suddenly fills me with a sadness I don’t think I’ll be able to beat here.

I’ll never have the opportunity to be with him at a party like this, or out to dinner or have a normal, run-of-the-mill relationship. There’s a bit of heartbreak in watching him ensue in an interaction we may never have now that I’ve ruined everything.

But I ruined it for a reason, my brain reminds me.

I catch Nicholas’s eye. His smile falters, and for a moment, I think he senses my unease. I quickly look away, swallowing the lump in my throat.

The ache that makes home in my ribcage does not care for reason; its only concern is pain. It suddenly becomes unbearable, and I need to leave, now. I need to go home, I need to fucking get of out here.

“I’m sorry, Noah but I have to go.” I hurriedly throw my bag over my shoulder and snatch my keys.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?” Noah asks, concerned.

“Yeah, I just… I need to go,” I say, my voice wavering as I avoid his gaze. “I have an important meeting I have to be home for.” My hand tightens around my keys so hard that the jagged edges dig into the flesh of my palm.

I stand up, the room spinning slightly as I do, despite not having anything to drink. I head for the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. I can feel Nicholas’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare look back.

Pushing through the front door, I take a deep breath of the cool night air, but it does little to calm the storm inside me. I walk quickly to my rental car, fumbling with the keys as tears blur my vision. Finally, I manage to unlock the door and slide into the driver’s seat.

As I drive home, the tears flow like rivers down my cheeks. The ache in my chest is relentless, a constant reminder of what I’ve given up and the lies I’ve told. I made my choice, and now I have to live with it. But the pain doesn’t care about reason or decisions. It only knows how to hurt.

I don’t stop driving until I reach my Airbnb. I stumble inside, dropping my bag on the floor and collapsing onto the couch. The tears flow freely now as I sink into the furniture, wishing things could be different but knowing they’ll never be. As much as I’d like to, I can’t undo my decision nor change the reasons behind it. As long as I work for them, Nick and I can never be anything more than just friends. Maybe in another life, there’s a him and I that work, but it’s not this one.

It doesn’t matter how much it hurts seeing him at events, or getting comments in videos, or even just being around him. He’s not mine and he can’t be. I’m not what he wants anyway, his career is just taking off the last thing he needs is to be entangled with someone who wants more than just sex. Is that even what I want? I barely even have time to fucking cry in the car, how would I balance a relationship?

Mourning the loss of what could’ve been is hard, but an inevitable breakup would be worse. However, just because I chose the lesser of two evils doesn’t mean it’s easy.

I glance at the time on my watch and scramble when I realize I’m late for my meeting. Unfortunately, I didn’t lie to Noah about that.

Flipping open my laptop, I’m right on time when the zoom call rushes in. I wipe the remnants of my tears and allow myself one more sniffle before answering.

The bright, shining faces of my original clients light up the screen. With drinks and cigars in hand, they greet me with their usual exuberance. They’re getting one last party in before they leave for tour soon. It’s the first tour I haven’t joined them on since working for them. The realization that I’m not going with them mingled with the feelings I just ran away from only worsens the pain in my torso. There’s nothing more I wish to do than to just run off with them to Europe and forget all about this mess with Nick. But I have too much on my plate to be touring with them right now, so I’m working remotely for them temporarily.

Their naturally cheery demeanors lift my spirits, and while it is still a work call, they always seem to make work fun. It makes me wish even more that I was going with them. Working for them has always been easy and enjoyable. The stark contrast between them and Omens is jarring. While we do have a longer history, Greta has always felt comforting, uplifting and loving – like family. I always feel valued and appreciated, and I never have to question my belonging with them.

Omens, on the other hand, has been nothing but complicated, painful, and uncomfortable. Instead of feeling like I’m part of something, I often feel like I’m navigating through a minefield between Noah’s volatility and Nick’s complexity. It’s hard to feel motivated when the environment is so hostile, and it leaves me questioning my place and purpose. Up until recently that is – things seem to be looking up now that Noah and I are getting along.

Comparing the two bands makes me long for the simplicity and warmth of Greta even more. The comfort and camaraderie I immediately feel when answering the zoom only highlights the cold, challenging reality of working with Omens. It’s a reminder of what I’m lacking and a painful acknowledgment of the complication of my current situation. The situation I put myself in.

Yet, Noah’s words ring in my ears, “We did our jobs well.” Perhaps it’s not as bleak as it once was. The memory of our truce plants a seed of hope in my chest. Maybe Bryan was right, that they just need time to come around.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” The bassist, Sam, jokes, pulling me out of my thoughts. The bright white of my screen flashing on my pale face in the darkness of my living room can’t be doing me any favors.

“You need a drink, Val?” Jake, the other long-haired guitarist asks, raising an enticing drink in a short glass.

“Maybe a smoke? You are in California after all.” The shaggy-haired singer, Josh, teases.

I force a smile and shake my head. “I would kill for both of those right now. Just a fucking exhausting day.”

“I know, our girl’s makin’ it big, taking on new bands, new quests.” Jake states in a dramatic, faux-English accent. “On to new horizons.” His arm splays out theatrically to a non-existent skyline.

“Leavin’ us behind!” Sam adds loudly in a whiny tone as he takes a sip of his cocktail.

The last words shoving a sword into my gut. Maybe Nick isn’t the only loss I’m mourning. Working for Greta has consumed my entire life for years, they’re the closest thing to family I’ve got. Perhaps not being engulfed in them constantly has left me lonely.

I roll my eyes lightheartedly and shake my head, “I could never leave you guys, you know that.” Clearing my throat, I change the subject. “How are you guys feeling about the tour?”

Their excitement is infectious, and I find myself relaxing a bit as they talk about their plans and the cities they’ll visit. For a moment, I forget about Nick and the tangled mess of emotions he brings.

“Hey, Val!” Josh shouts, raising a glass snapping me out of my haze. “We’re going to miss you on this one!”

“Yeah, it won’t be the same without you,” The quiet drummer, Danny, chimes in.

I force a smile, trying to push the sadness aside. “I’ll miss you guys too. But I’ll be there in spirit, and we’ll keep in touch. You know I’ll be checking in every day.”

They laugh and raise their glasses in a toast, their contagious energy making it a little easier to breathe.

The boys filter out, saying their goodbyes to entertain the other guests at their party.

“Yeah, I’ll catch up to you guys later. I have to ask Vallie about something.” Sam waves the boys away.

He turns in his chair to face me, a look of concern washed over his face as he tucks a chunk of long hair behind his ear. “Are you okay? You seem a bit off?” He asks softly.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. "I'm fine, Sammy. Just a lot going on."

He looks at me for a long moment, his puppy-dog eyes filled with understanding. "You know you can talk to me, right? If you ever need anything. We're all going to miss you on this tour, but we understand why you can't come."

I nod, "I know. Thanks, Sam," I reply, with a tight smile. "I appreciate it."

Under other circumstances, I would maybe try to talk to them but they’re so excited for Europe, I can’t possibly weigh them down with anything serious.

He gives me a reassuring smile. "Take care of yourself, okay? And if you need to vent or anything, just call. We're all here for you, we love you a lot."

"Thanks," I say again, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I will. I love you guys too."

With one last nod, Sam ends the call, leaving me alone with my thoughts and letting reality crash back in. I close my laptop and lean back in my seat, staring at the other side of the vacant couch. The room feels emptier than before, the silence more suffocating. I can’t shake the feeling of being left behind, both professionally and personally.

I set my laptop on the coffee table and pull a blanket over my body in hopes that it would help me disappear. I curl up in the corner of the couch with my knees up to my chest. I haven’t felt heartache like this since high school and it’s over something that was never even serious. My mind keeps drifting back to Nick, to the hurt and anger in his eyes when I pushed him away. I know it was the right decision, but the pain is parasitic in a way I was never prepared for.

I blink at the blank wall in front of me. I’m not home, I’m not with friends or anyone I know. I work for a band that half hates me most days, I fell for a boy I can’t have and I’m staying in a pay-by-weekly Airbnb. I’m alone in a city I hate, in a home that’s not my own with people who barely like me. That’s when I realize that perhaps heartache isn’t the only pain that sits heavy in my heart – it’s also the weight of loneliness that’s been consuming me, rotting me from the inside out.

Only when I acknowledge the seclusion is when it wraps around me like a suffocating shroud, seeping into my very core and eroding my sense of self.

I close my eyes and let out a long, shaky sigh, trying to steady my racing thoughts. I have to keep moving forward, despite the overwhelming difficulty and the sadness in my bones. There’s a faint flicker of hope buried somewhere beneath the despair, a small, stubborn, workaholic part of me that refuses to give up. For now, I hold on to that glimmer, however faint, and vow to take things one step at a time.

This was the 4th rehearsal in a row that I’ve attended this week, and while it never gets old watching their sets, the content becomes repetitive. So, while the boys are playing and Bryan snaps shots of them, I scroll through Zillow.

I don’t even notice that they’re done until Nicholas is beside me cracking a water bottle open. “What’re you lookin’ at?” He asks. Slowly but surely, we’ve been making our way back up to being friendly, despite the break down I had weeks ago after the music video launch. If I just focus on the work, I can almost stifle down our history. Almost.

“Oh shit, you scared me.” I chuckle but it soon fades with the frustration that’s built up over the past couple days. “Augh, I have to find an apartment or something because this Airbnb is getting so expensive. My other client’s tour just started, and I just took on another band, so I’m stuck here for a while. But I can’t fucking find an apartment building that doesn’t have a waitlist before next fall.”

“Shit sucks around here.” Chimes in Jolly from the corner taking a sip of his Gatorade.

“Here let me see.” Nick swivels my laptop towards him before I have a chance to stop him. He holds his tongue between his lips with his brows furrowed, like he’s focused on some super spy mission. He scrolls for a while, adds some filters, scrolls, takes more filters out, then turns the laptop back to me. “Ta da!” He smiles his signature grin and it’s nice to see it in my direction again.

“Whoa, how the fuck did you find that!” My eyes nearly pop out of my head as I scroll through the listing, it having almost everything I was looking for. “Oh my god, they’re doing a showing for a perfect place right now, I gotta go.” I hastily begin packing my things up, haphazardly throwing all my scattered belongings into my tote.

“Whoa whoa,” Halts Jolly, “You’re not going alone.”

I furrow my brows at him, confused, “What do you mean?”

“Listen, do you know how unsafe it is for a woman to go to realty showings alone?” His voice is so filled with genuine concern and a splash of paranoia.

“You need to stop watching so much true crime dude.” Folio rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, he’s obsessed.” Bryan adds with a pointed thumb towards the long-haired man.

I blink up at Jolly who’s face is dead serious. “We’re coming with you.”

I normally wouldn’t let men tell me what to do or how to do it, but maybe Jolly is right. Men are dangerous especially around here and I have also heard horror stories about women going to check out a house and it turning out to be a sketchy place with an equally creepy man.

“Okay.” I nod. “Fine.”

Looking over the four of them, I realize that Noah had already disappeared. He’s been cutting out immediately after each rehearsal, so I think nothing of it.

“I got nothing better to do.” Shrugs Nicholas. I don’t look too much at him because if I did, I would notice the strain behind his eyes - one that looks both pained and conflicted.

Arriving at the open house, I walk around the small loft, letting my fingers trail over the cracked railing of the stairs. The apartment is smaller, dingier and dustier than advertised. When I make it upstairs, the 4 are up there already. I catch them looking unimpressed, almost disgusted at the place but immediately feign impression for my sake.

“It’s…pretty nice, Vallie.” Says Folio, with a forced smile.

“Oh, spare me, it’s a dump.” I sigh, defeated. “The asking price is like double with all the fees and shit. It’s ridiculous.” I rub two fingers into my temple. “I don’t know what I’m gonna fucking do.”

There’s a bit of silence filled with pitiful faces from the group. Nicholas’ eyes look focused but lost in thought. Before any of them could speak, Bryan perks up.

“My old room in the house is empty since I moved out last year. Why doesn’t she just move in with you guys?” He suggests as if it’s the most obvious answer.

My mouth nearly falls open at the insane suggestion. The trio’s focus snaps to him with the most shocked and betrayed looks on their faces, brows raised and jaws open.

“What?” I ask for clarification, because he couldn’t possibly be serious.

Bryan ignores their reactions. “Exactly what I said. It just makes sense? You’re with them all the time.”

“I uh-“ I falter, somewhat overwhelmed with the four of them looking at me. “I mean, it really seems like that’s a group decision…”

“I’m cool with it.” Folio surprisingly speaks up first, “We do have the spare room and we could use the extra rent money. You take a lot of Ubers to get to us anyway, so.”

For once Folio seemed to be cooperative, nice even. Maybe they are warming up to me afterall.

Jolly sighs heavily, “They have good points. It would be convenient but… Noah’s not going to be happy.”

Anxiety wins over the excitement dying to bloom in my stomach as I look over and meet Nick’s gaze. His eyes contain the same pained and confused look as before. He’s conflicted.

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck about what Noah wants. He’s outnumbered 4-1.” Nick snaps. “She needs a place, and we have one.”

I tug at my lip and contemplate my options. This would be the easiest and cheapest path. “Okay fine. Just for now. I’m gonna keep looking so I don’t overstay my welcome.” I meet eyes with each one sternly. “Thank you.”

I’m grateful for the offer but I can’t help but be nervous about being so close to Nicholas all of the time. The room I’d be staying in is the empty room between Noah and Nicholas’ rooms. I’d be between the two I would least like to be around. I contemplate backing out for a brief moment but quickly remember how much the Airbnb is costing me weekly. As much as I value my independence and solitude, it’s just not worth the cost and isn’t sustainable. The last thing I ever want to do is live with them, but it seems to be the only good option right now.

A week later, the boys help carry the last of my boxes up the stairs while I warn them about how if they break anything they’ll be paying for it.

Nick, Jolly, and Folio are all out of breath as they set down my boxes.

“Jesus, how do you have so many boxes of stuff from that tiny Airbnb?” Folio asks, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

I shrug, “I had some of my stuff from home shipped out to me, since I’m staying in Cali longer than I expected.”

Jolly and Folio filter out leaving me alone with Nicholas. I’m immediately on my toes around him. Just being in the house with him is difficult. The only other two times I’ve been here, we’ve slept together - once on the couch downstairs and another in the room beside us now. It’s hard not thinking about having him that way again with those reminders all around me. The memories pack a punch not just in my core but in my heart as well. We’ve just started to get back to normal after our little falling out. But what even is back to normal with us? Were we ever really normal?

“Do you need help unpacking?” He asks though it doesn’t seem forced or ingenuine.

I ponder the offer as I shift on my feet but ultimately shake my head. “Not now. I don’t know if I’m going to fully unpack yet, since I’m still looking for another place.”

He nods, seeming somewhat unhappy about my response. “Okay well, if you need help with anything, let me know.”

“Okay, I will. Thank you.” I scratch my arm anxiously and pause before I speak again. “I feel bad… I know Noah’s unhappy because I’m here.”

Nicholas sucks in a breath. “Yeah, he’s not happy. But I don’t really know what else to say to him. Maybe you should talk to him.”

I let out a laugh. “Yeah fucking right. I’m sure I’m the last person he wants to talk to right now.”

“You never know. It might help.” He steps towards the door to leave. “I think we’re gonna order Chinese for dinner. You cool with that?”

I nod and he reciprocates before leaving the room downstairs.

I take a deep breath and shake out the nerves from my hands as I walk to Noah’s door. I give it a knock and wait for a response.

“Come in.” He calls and I peek through the cracked door.

He rolls his eyes and glares at me. “Great, it’s you.”

“You know you don’t have to be like that.” I say calmly while I push the door open more and lean against the door frame.

He doesn’t even look at me and keeps his eyes on the TV across from his bed where he lays. His hands are diligently working on a gaming controller. I can’t help but notice how his long-tattooed fingers rapidly and strategically click on the buttons. Something about it creates a slight buzz between my legs.

“You just invited yourself into my home. I think I have some right to talk to you any way I want to.” He retorts.

“I didn’t invite myself; I was invited. By your bandmates, your best friends. But you know that already. You’re just being an asshole.”

“Again, this is my house. I can be an asshole in my house if I want to. This is what you signed up for. But you know that already.” He mocks me with my own words.

I try my best to keep my bubbling anger from spilling. We had been doing so well since the thrift store, but it seems that we’re back to square one all over again.

“I’m not trying to be here forever, alright? This is temporary. Like I want to be here any more than you want me to be. Believe it or not, this isn’t exactly a walk in the park for me either.” I sigh, trying to keep my composure. “I’m just trying to make the best of it while I’m here, okay? Can we agree to just be civil?”

He glares at me, but I know he knows that I’m right. “No promises.”

As I look around my new room, I suddenly feel closed in by the towers of boxes that surround me. I should’ve waited until after I signed some sort of apartment lease before having some of my stuff shipped from New York. I was just homesick for a place of my own again, that I wanted my belongings outside of what fits inside a couple carry-on suitcases. I’ve been living out of suitcases for longer than I’ve ever wanted and so maybe unpacking some of my clothes and things wouldn’t hurt much. Afterall, I could always just repack them. When I stand and find that some of the towers are even taller than me, I recognize that I might need help afterall.

I find myself in front of Nick’s door and a nervous feeling swirls in my stomach that I try to ignore.

This is a bad idea, I think to myself.

But it’s too late. My knuckles have already met the door.

After a couple moments, Nick opens the door with a gaming headset pulled off his ear and a controller in his hand. It’s clear by the way his eyebrows drop that he was expecting anyone but me. The look is enough to make me back out of my own decision.

“Oh, sorry to bother you, you’re obviously busy, nevermind!” I ramble quickly in a way I rarely do - but I rarely feel the way I do with him. Mid-turn to get back to my room he unexpectedly grasps my wrist, not hard but not soft either, enough to keep me in place.

“What’s up?” He asks and I can’t tell if he’s annoyed or genuinely curious.

“Oh, um, well, you see,”

Fucking get it together

“I was going to ask if I could take you up on your offer? To help me unpack?” I already regret the words before they leave my mouth. “But if you’re busy it’s no big deal!!”

“I, uh, yeah. Sure. Let me just finish this round and I’ll come help.” He begins pulling his headset back on before I can fully answer.

“Oh, yeah sure. Take your time!”

He closes his door, and I dart to my room, immediately pacing the small amount of floor I have available.

Why did I fucking do that?

“You okay?” His voice speaks from the doorway where he’s propped up against.

I nearly jump out of my skin, not expecting him there so soon. It makes me wonder if he had just quit his game instead of finishing it like he said.

“Oh, yeah yeah.” I wave him off. “I always get nervous with moves.”

It was a lie. With my job, I’ve had to get used to moving often, so it doesn’t phase me any more. But with the shake in my voice, I know it wasn’t a great sell.

“Right.” He replies skeptically, pushing himself off the frame. “What did you need help with?”

“I need that box up there.” I point to the box above my head. “And that one.” I gesture to the one right beside it at the same height. “And that one.”

He chuckles at how the boxes seem like skyscrapers to me, “Okay sure.”

He pulls each one down with ease.

“Anything else?” He asks.

I sink down to the floor behind one of the large boxes. “I’m just gonna start unpacking these, if you wanna help.” I shrug up at him.

Nick looks over at another box, grabbing something before handing it out to me. “I think you might need this.”

Blood rushes to my cheeks at the mistake, “Thank you.” I lift up and take the box cutter from him.

I thought that would be the limit of his contribution but to my surprise, he sits down across from me. When I give him a confused look he simply jokes, “I’m really interested in what the fuck are in all these boxes.”

I bite down on my bottom lip to keep a grin from spreading across my lips. After our conversation at the music video shoot, this is the last thing I expected him to do.

I’m still sat on the floor with half empty boxes while Nick acts as the fuel to the operation, putting things wherever I direct him. He slides a chunk of books into a bookshelf that was left behind. Books are always the first thing I like to unpack after the necessities. They're so personal and really give a space a real essence of you. I’m only unpacking my favorites to display for now since I don’t know how long my stay will be.

“You sure do have a lot of books about pirates?” He states quizzically, with an arched brow and a chuckle.

“Oh,” I laugh, “Yeah, one of my clients really loves them for some reason.” I gesture to the books he just shelved. “I get one of those every Christmas. Those and a box of fancy cigars.”

His eyes look over the spines of the grandiose black leather books. “You’ve been with them a long time.” He observes each one, then looks over at me. “6 Christmases.”

I blink up at him because there’s no way it’s been 6 years already. Logically, I knew I’ve accumulated a large stack of those books, but it isn’t until now that it clicks. “Wow. You’re right. I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“They’re lucky to have you.” He says, crouching down to get more books. “You’ve done so good for us so far, I can’t imagine what your main act gets.”

The statement feels almost double edged, though it doesn’t seem that he intended it that way. It’s simple and meant to be flattering but it just settles a guilt in my bones. It sounds like he believes that Omens aren’t a priority, which isn’t true.

“It’s not like that.” I scoff, handing him another set of non-pirate books.

“Oh sure, as if you don’t prioritize Harry Styles over us.” He shoots back playfully.

The Harry bit has gone so far that it makes me wonder if they truly believe it, it would be hilarious if they did.

“You know I don’t manage him. Wish I did though.” I laugh, shaking my head. I grab another couple books and tug at my lip contemplating whether I should start some lighthearted competition. “You know… Noah guessed my ‘mystery client’.”

A mischievous smirk blooms on my lips when Nick’s brows raise with an, “Oh did he now?”

I nod, “Yep! Gonna have to step up your game I guess.” I shrug jokingly.

“Well, I’m either gonna have to go shake him down or,” He points to the room next door with the box cutter then looks at the mess around us. “Or I’m just gonna have to keep unpacking until I figure it out.”

A giggle escapes me and a warmth blooms in my tummy. I hate that this is how my body reacts to him, but I quickly snuff it out. “I guess so.”

As he continues to help me, the room overflows with laughter, and I can’t remember ever having fun unpacking. I try not to dwell on the way I feel when I look at him for too long. If I can just push aside the flutter in my chest when he crinkles his nose, or when he smiles wide and sparkles fill his eyes, or when he makes my name sound like music — if I can just move past all of that, then maybe living here won’t be so bad. Perhaps friendship with Nick wouldn’t be so difficult if it looks like this.

The first week was awkward and uncomfortable and foreign, but the boys acclimated faster than I imagined - which, thinking about it now, made sense. They’d spent the better half of their lives being forced to live with random people for unforeseen periods of time. They just moved around me, and I moved around them, we all were on different schedules and busy doing other things better than paying attention to each other. Outside of rehearsals or meetings, I rarely saw them. The boys have an affinity for the nighttime while I’ve been operating on three different world clocks due to my other clients touring in different countries.

I found that juggling three bands when I was barely managing two, was becoming quite taxing. I usually pride myself on my work ethic and multi-tasking skills, but it’s wearing on me in ways I’ve never experienced before. My sleep schedule is basically nonexistent, having to be awake for California, Europe, and Australia times simultaneously. I work between cat naps and run off of at least 4 cups of coffee daily. While work has been miserable, it’s definitely helped keep my mind distracted.

After a much-needed shower and a fresh set of button-down pajamas, I follow the smell of pizza downstairs. I find the boys gathered around the kitchen.

“Hey Val.” Folio smiles then falters, “You look fucking exhausted.” He shakes his head apologetically, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Just - help yourself, there’s plenty. Noah can put away like three pies on his own.” He chuckles nervously, pushing past me to the living room.

“Think of it as your belated welcome party.” Jolly says before taking a bite, leaning against the counter.

“Thanks.” I smile but it doesn’t meet my eyes when I notice Nick remained silent and Noah’s absent.

Jolly nudges my shoulder as he walks out of the kitchen, “Noah’s picking out a movie for us, if you wanna join.”

“Cool.” I nod, fidgeting with my fingers. As much as I’d love to protest wasting my time, all I need to do right now is sit and turn my brain off for an hour or two.

“Can’t guarantee it’ll be any good if Noah’s picking.” He calls over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Shouts Noah from the couch.

The edges of my lips curl up slightly at the interaction but quickly fall. Even though it's been about a week, this is the first actual night of us all together. It’s only then that it settles in my bones the reality of the move.

I precariously pluck a slice from a half-eaten pie and plop it on a paper plate. “You uh,” I thumb over my shoulder. “Stayin’ for the movie?”

He pushes himself off the granite counter. “I was planning on it, yeah.” He peels another slice from the round and places it on his already full plate. He’s in a dark hoodie for a band I’ve never heard of with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, showing off all the beautiful ink on his arms. I try not to let my eyes linger too long on the way his fingers fold the slice in half. “You?”

I steal a water bottle from the fridge and lean against the counter. “Yeah, if he picks a good movie.” I tease.

He nods and makes his way out of the kitchen.

I shake my head to wake myself up some more and meet the rest of them in the living room. My feet are the first to freeze when my eyes land on the screen. Noah chose the same indie horror movie that Nick and I had chosen the night he stayed in with me. How he managed to find and decide on the same random movie we did, I’m not sure. What I am sure of is the way my heart feels like it fell into my stomach. My hand grips the plate, and my eyes instinctively search for Nick. His gaze meets mine, the look in his eyes about matches my own before he hardens it. His jaw clenches and he focuses back on finding his place on the couch.

When I finally make my way over, I find there’s only one seat left between Noah and Nicholas. I take a silent but deep inhale before squeezing between them. The close proximity to Nicholas sends a familiar, anxious thrill through me, but I push it aside, trying to focus on the moment. We’re friends now. Colleagues. I have to keep reminding myself of that. We’ve only ever been colleagues.

“Alright, everyone shut up.” Noah waves a lanky arm around with the remote clutched in his hand. “Movie time!”

Folio reaches up and flips the lights off to cast an eerie darkness across the room, perfect for the mood of the movie. As the opening credits roll, my heart drops sharply and makes the idea of the pizza on my plate nauseating. The memory hits me like a wave, threatening to pull me under. I can see it so clearly in my head - us sharing two different kinds of chips, Doritos and Cheetos. I can hear the storm that raged that night, the one that kept him from leaving. I remember vividly the conversation we had about having that team-building party. I can hear him promising that the boys would come around. I blink quickly to keep tears from spilling down my cheeks. The last thing I need is to cry in front of them.

Noah nudges me with his elbow. “You okay? You look a little pale.” He asks with a smirk, teasing me as if I was already scared fifteen minutes into the movie. In the corner of my eye, I can see Nick glance over at us, trying to disguise the fact he’s obviously eavesdropping.

“Yeah, just... tired.” I half-lie, giving him a weak smile while keeping my eyes on the tv.

“Sure, scaredy cat.” He laughs, returning his focus to the screen.

The movie continues, and I’m transported back to that rainy night. I wasn’t nervous that entire night until we were sitting criss-crossed next to each other watching this specific scene before the first jumpscare. The flutter of nerves didn’t find home in my belly until we both jolted at the perfectly timed jumpscare and our knees ended up pressed together for the rest of the night. I remember the way his hand brushed against mine, the way we laughed and screamed at all the right moments. Sitting here now, with him so close yet so far, is torture.

As the film progresses, I can’t help but notice Nicholas shifting slightly in his seat. His arm brushes against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I hope no one else notices my reaction. It’s jumpy and juvenile, the way we both try our best not to have any part of our body touching for too long.

Halfway through the movie, a particularly frightening scene makes everyone scream and laugh at each other’s fear. Nicholas turns to me, and for a brief moment, our eyes meet. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze, something that tells me he remembers too. But then he looks away, and the moment vanishes.

The rest of the movie is a blur. I’m too focused on the memories, the emotions, and the painful reality that the past is just that—the past. When the credits finally roll, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and everything is suffocating and tight.

Folio reaches up from his seat in the recliner and flicks the light back on. “Jesus fucking christ, Noah.”

“What the fuck.” Echoes Jolly.

Noah grins widely, obviously proud of his peculiar choice. “You’re welcome.”

“It was great.” I rush the words out and quickly push myself off the couch. “I need to get some air. Excuse me.”

A cackle erupts from Noah, “Musta scared the shit out of her.”

As I speed to the front door, I hear someone smack him with a pillow and Nick’s voice telling him not to be an ass.

I nearly burst through the front door and find salvation in gripping the porch railing. For a moment I question if I might actually get ill. Never in my adult life have I ever felt such visceral agony over another human being, nonetheless a man. The cool night air brings a welcome relief and finally I feel like I can suck in a full breath.

I squeeze my eyes shut when I hear the door open behind me and my heart races when Nick appears in my peripheral. Fuck.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey,” I reply, my voice almost trembling.

He pulls something from his pocket, flipping the top open and holding out a box of Newports to me. “Want one?”

I sigh, contemplating it even though I haven't touched a cigarette since college, but god do I need it now. “Thanks.” I pluck a cig from the box and place it between my lips. I cup the end from the wind while he flicks the lighter for me. The second it’s sizzling and lit I take a much-needed deep inhale, letting the nicotine fill every gap in my lungs giving me a split second of reprieve.

I close my eyes as I exhale, hoping the smoke would take the pain that sits in my chest. For a moment, we stand there in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us. The sounds of the night filled the quiet, frogs croaking and far off traffic from the city.

He steps closer, close enough that I can feel his warmth and the smoke of his cigarette. “I remember that night, you know.”

I pause, swallowing hard. “Me too.”

The ache in my chest is palpable, like it sits between each individual rib. I feel it in my bones, in my veins, in my fucking marrow.

When I made the decision to distance myself, to hurt him, I thought it was the best decision for us all. I had no idea it would hurt this bad. It hardly seems like a good idea now.

Every part of my body tenses up like a muscle throbbing in pain. My index and middle fingers involuntarily squish the cigarette, and my fists tighten. I have no reason to feel this way, I did this.

“Val,” he says, his voice breaking through my turmoil. “We never really… talked.”

I bite my lip hard, the cigarette trembling between my fingers. “What’s there to talk about, Nick?” I can’t bear to look up at him.

“Us, Vallie.” He says more sternly this time, turning to me fully. “You just shut me out. And I got upset so I walked away, but we didn’t talk about it.”

Of course, the only man I fall for is the one that actually wants to talk about his feelings.

“We made a choice, Nick.” I grind my teeth to ward off tears, keeping my gaze focused on a far off tree.

He shakes his head, stepping even closer. “No, you made a choice. And I went along with it because I thought it was what you wanted. But standing here now like this… I can’t help but wonder if you made a mistake.”

I close my eyes and exhale. All I want to do is give in to him, tell him he’s right, that I did make a mistake. But my reasoning and logic remains the same.

The words hang in the air, heavier than the smoke around us. I don’t dare look up at him, tears blurring my vision. “Maybe I did. But we can’t. And I told you,” I pause, giving myself one final second to rethink my decision. “I’m seeing someone.”

He snuffs his cigarette out on the wood railing then grasps my shoulder harshly, turning my body to face him. “If you’re going to lie to me, at least do it to my face.”

I drop my own cigarette from the sudden action, and he quickly stomps it out for me. My eyes widen at his words and his shift in demeanor. I blink up at him and shake my head. “I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are.” He takes a step forward causing me to step backwards, closing me into the porch railing. His hand finds my jaw holding it firmly in place, analyzing me with furrowed brows. It runs an ice-cold shiver down my spine. “I can see it in your eyes. I can hear it in your voice.”

My chest rises and falls rapidly. “I am, seeing someone Nick. I’m happy.” I lie through my teeth even though it’s useless.

“No, you’re not, Vallie.” His words are sharp and intentional. “Look at you.” He gestures over my body. “You’re shaking through a cigarette just because you’re standing next to me.”

“God.” A tear slips down my cheek and I try to take a breath, but I feel even more suffocated than before. “Fuck, Nick.” I harshly push him away. I look between us and still for a moment before tears prickle my eyes. “I’m sorry, I can’t fucking do this.”

I rush past him, through the front door, and don’t stop running until I close my bedroom door behind me. I slump against it, sliding down until I’m sitting on the floor. The weight of everything crashes down on me, and I bury my face in my hands.

“FUCK,” I scream, the sound muffled by my palms to not be heard by anyone else. The tears come hard and fast, my shoulders shaking with each sob. I’ve never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. The pain is unbearable, and all I can do is cry.

Thankfully the boys had already gone to bed the night of me and Nick’s fight, so we didn’t have to answer any uncomfortable questions. I cried, got it out of my system, and isolated the emotions into a little folder I tucked into my heart, just as I did the last time. Although, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t getting more and more difficult. Two weeks later, I’m still avoiding Nick, but I don’t act like a scrambling mouse any time he enters the room. Tensions have calmed down and it’s impressive how much can be hidden behind a mask.

Today, I’m tearing the kitchen apart looking for a measuring cup, how they’ve made it this far without a measuring cup, I have no idea.

As I’m bent over into a lower cabinet, I spot Nicholas in my peripheral. Obviously, he’s the one I’d been avoiding the most but the feeling was mutual, us rarely interacting with each other after movie night. We barely spoke to each other during meetings and avoided each other around the house.

“Looking for something?” He asks with a bit of condescension in his tone.

The comment immediately irritates me as I’d been hungrily searching for this goddamn utensil for the past half hour and all I fucking want are pancakes on my day off. I bite my tongue in order to not snap at him and back out of the cabinet, standing up. “Would you happen to know where a girl could find a goddamn measuring cup around here?” My irritated tone greatly outweighed Nick’s more subtle one.

His brows raised, shocked that I’d even speak that way, nonetheless to him. His brows didn’t stay up though, they fell rather quickly into thick, straight lines. The way his face turned cold so quickly made me shiver with a fear crawling up my back. “I know you’re not speaking to me that way in my own house.”

Immediately, I want to rival it but try my best to stifle it down. However, the feeling was too strong. “I know you aren’t talking to me like that, period.” Crossing my arms over my chest and raising a brow at him.

He steps towards me, “With work? Sure, I can play nice. Outside of work? I can talk to you however I want.”

My brows furrow at his sudden hostility. Even though we’d been avoiding each other, things have been calm and professional. He’s never spoken to me like this before and while I’m used to dealing with intimidating industry men on my own, the darkness in his tone has my heart thumping in fear. For the sake of my self-respect, I square my shoulders and straighten my back. “Don’t fucking talk to me like that.”

“Or what?” He provokes, stepping even closer to me. “You work for us, remember? You’re nothing more than a glorified assistant.”

My jaw practically drops to the floor and red-hot anger rushes through my veins. I hear the smack first, ringing through the kitchen before I feel the static-y stinging in my palm. I gasp and bring my hands to my mouth while I watch him quickly reach for his reddening cheek. I instinctively want to apologize but, he deserved it.

When his eyes return to mine, they’re the darkest gray I’ve ever seen them and the fearful thumping in my chest returns. He steps forward, backing me into the corner of the cabinets and the air in my lungs vacates when I look up to find his eyes burning holes in my body. My eyes widen at the sudden, unexpected action. “Nick.” I tremble out in the space between us.

“You think you can just move in and run shit.” He taunts, his voice low and gravelly. “Haven’t even been in the house a month and you’re already acting up.”

The fight or flight response in my body begs me to cry, to apologize and shove him away but the burning lava in my bloodstream demands otherwise. I clench my jaw matching the intensity of his stare. “I’m an adult Nicholas, I can do whatever the fuck I want in the home I pay to live in.”

His hands land on the granite countertop at each side of my hips. “You have one hell of a fucking attitude today.”

The energy shifts into something slightly less aggressive and more sensual. As much as it should disgust me after all the shit he just pulled, it has my thighs pressing together.

I cock my head at him, and in a tone that borders on innocent, I challenge him, “Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

His hand goes to touch my hip but stops short, stopping himself. We both know the lie I told him, but it seems like he might’ve actually believed it afterall. He lowered to just below my ear. “If I could, I’d make sure the only thing coming out of that bratty little mouth of yours are those pretty noises you make.” He whispers, his voice low and raspy.

His words went straight to my core, filling it with rampant buzzing. The war in my head waged between keeping up with my plan versus just giving into him like I always seem to do. However, it seemed as though the wetness pooling between my legs was winning.

I must’ve taken too long for him, long enough to crack his resolve just a bit. He pressed his forehead against mine, forcing my focus up to him. The look in his eyes had switched to something softer than before, if I didn’t know better, I’d say there was a hint of sadness in his crystal grey eyes. “Can I touch you?” He asks barely above a whisper and when I don’t answer immediately, he begs again. “I need to touch you, Val.” His voice carried what sounded like a deep desperation, and it all yanked at my heart - but guilt was a beast for a different time.

Truth is, that I feel the same desperation as he does. I nod quickly against him, “Touch me.” I cave into him, like I always do. “Touch me, touch me, touch me.” I repeat softly before his lips clash into mine and his hands finally meet my hips, immediately pulling me onto the counter. As soon as the coolness of the granite meets my thighs, my eyes round at the realization that we’re in the kitchen. I pull away before he has a chance to deepen the kiss, “The others.” I breathe out urgently with wide eyes down at him.

He shakes his head quickly, “They’re out of the city for the day.”

It could’ve been a bold face lie, but that’s all the reassurance I need to proceed on our poor decision. His tongue swipes across my bottom lip and I oblige faster than I’d like to admit. Our tongues find each other and begin to entwine themselves. He grasps my hips and pulls me to the edge of the counter to press himself against me. I can’t help but let out a tiny moan into his mouth at the feeling of his covered erection pressing into my clothed center.

His hands trail up my sides to cup my cheeks before parting from me, “You feel what you do to me?” Soft but needy pants through parted lips fall on my own.

My heaving chest and my pathetic excuse for a nod was enough for him to rejoin our lips. I wrap my arms around his neck tugging him even closer. Our tongues fight for dominance but he’s winning, and his thumbs dig into my hip bones in an almost painful way, as if he’s scared I’ll vanish from his grasp.

My fingers find their way into his hair that’s wrapped up in a loose bun and dig my nails into the roots, letting out a small sigh against his lips. He tastes like cigarettes and coffee in the best way.

I pull away for a moment and let my focus move from his lips back up to his eyes. My hands glide over the waistband of his jeans, dipping two fingers behind the zipper and pulling it towards my body. “I thought you had a lesson to teach me?”

A groan rumbles in the back of his throat as he processes my words. His fingers snap to my thighs, digging harshly into the flesh before spreading them apart as far as they’d allow. Warmth tinted my cheeks at the action, feeling exposed. I’m still clothed but now it’s just the thin fabric of my panties keeping the most intimate part of me covered. It’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t seen before, but it still feels vulnerable.

“Tell me, what lesson do you think you need to learn?” He asks me while his fingertips urge my lower back to move further to the edge of the counter.

“Hmm,” I feign thinking hard about the answer. “I think that you think it should be my mouth, but I don’t think that.”

“Oh, no?” He questions, “Is there anything you do that makes you think you deserve a lesson?”

“Nope.” I reply with cheery innocence.

“That’s interesting, because you’re massively overdue for one.” He tugs my legs so close to him it almost pulls me off the counter.

He leans down and presses a kiss just below my ear, then trails it down my neck. My heart beats so fast against my ribcage I fear it could burst.

While his hands roam and grope anywhere they land, he’s buried in my neck sucking marks into it. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, mumbling against my skin and makes my heart rate skip a beat or two.

I tilt my head back and scrunch my eyes closed. We shouldn’t be doing this in the first place, nonetheless, saying these sorts of things to each other, but it seems neither of us care enough to remember why.

I tangle my fingers in his hair, giving it a gentle tug and nudging my head against his. “I’ve missed you too, Nicky.”

He pauses the same way I did but this time he moves back up to rejoin our lips.

There’s a couple words that linger in the back of my throat - words I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell him. Words that I’m not sure make sense for us or if they’re just the chemicals rushing through me. But I want to say them, and I’m scared that if I go to say anything at all they might tumble out.

His hands find and tug at my shirt which I quickly pull away and discard it across the room. I take the opportunity to do the same with him. I catch the hem of his shirt, and he stills. I realize in the two times we’ve slept together, I’ve never seen him shirtless. That combined with the way he hesitated when I went to pull it off makes me think he might be uncomfortable. “May I?”

He hesitates but nods and lets me be the one to pull it off him. He’s tattooed all over his chest just as he is on his arms, and it makes me want to go exploring all over his body. Our lips reunite and our tongues reconnect before I get a chance to compliment his appearance. I work quickly at undoing his jeans while he struggles to pull down my skirt.

Finally, bare to each other, he pulls me taut against him to make sure I can feel just how much he’s missed me. He nestles his thick shaft between my folds, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t missed that part of him too. I let a small whine slip into our kiss at the feeling of him throbbing against my clit.

He disconnects from me only to press his forehead against mine, “I need to be inside you.” There’s a greater feeling behind his claim, more akin to ‘I need to be as close to you as possible’.

“I need you, please.” I reply, sounding more desperate than I would’ve liked.

Now, not my brightest moment, letting him push his way inside me without more prep when I haven’t had him in so long. The stretch his girth brings is a delicious but brutal burn. He takes mercy on me by taking it slow and I feel every thick inch of him until he bottoms out, nuzzling the tip of his cock into my cervix.

“Fuck.” I breathe out, resting my head back on the cabinet.

While it’s painful, it feels just like puzzle pieces reuniting, like he was made for me. He fills me completely, leaving no empty space.

He only stays stagnant for a short bit of time before he begins rutting into me. I remember how good he feels once adjusted to him. His head is tucked into the other side of my neck, littering it with more marks. He lets small grunts and groans tumble into my neck as he drills into me. With every thrust, his cock hits the bundle of nerves deep within my core and makes my skin burn. “God, you take me so fucking good.” He mutters beneath my ear and it makes me grip onto him tighter.

He detaches from my neck and unexpectedly places both hands on my cheeks, directing my gaze onto him. His hips slow but don’t halt as he forces me to focus on his stormy eyes.

“Tell me it was a lie.” He demands, with a slight melancholic undertone.

I tilt my head a bit at the request, unsure of what he was referring to or why he’s bringing it up now. “What?”

“I know you lied to me, tell me it was a lie.” He pleads again, with more desperation this time. “Tell me there was no one else.”

As I take a moment to process, he returns to his spot on my throat, pulling the skin of my neck between his teeth and one hand finding my swollen clit, rolling circles into it. My eyes widen at the feeling of both sensations at the same time, rapidly accelerating the proximity of my high.

“Tell me you lied to me.” He repeats in a mumble beneath my ear. “Tell me there’s no one else. I need to hear it.”

My mind swirls between his words and the pleasure he’s giving me. It’s like some twisted tactic, that if he gets me so overwhelmed, I’d be forced to tell the truth - and it’s working.

“I-“ I begin, going to ask how he ‘knows’ but I know I’m a terrible liar, especially to him. My peak rushes to where his fingertips meet my bundle of nerves and all I can think about is him. “I lied, Nick, I lied.” My fingernails dig into his back, and I squeeze my eyes shut, letting an ache wash through my chest.

I feel him smile against my skin and his speed picks up, ramming into my sweet spot over and over while working figure-8’s into my clit.

“There’s only you.” I add, because I have nothing left to lose with the truth being out. “There’s only ever been you.”

He groans at the words and the way my walls involuntarily pulse around him. “Fuck.“ He grunts against my neck, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Fuck, I’m close. Cum with me?”

I nod quickly as I’m on the precipice of my own high as well and ready to reach it with him.

His thumb speeds up with the rolls of his hips pushing me over the edge. “Fuck I’m gonna, fuck,” Buzzing euphoria washes over me and blinds my vision as the coil in my belly snaps. It spreads burning heat across my body and only intensifies when I feel his cock twitch, spilling his hot release into the deepest part of me.

Our chests rise and fall quickly in time with each other and his breath brushes past my shoulder in short bursts. It feels so good to be so full of him.

Unexpectedly, he pulls back only to hold my face and pull me in for another kiss. This time, it’s sweet and soft and full of an emotion we haven’t spoken. Our tongues dance together but it’s slow and tender, the sort of kiss that bonds you and makes you feel safe.

Once he detaches from me, his forehead presses into mine once more, meeting my eyes with his silver ones, this time having a faint blue hue. His thumbs brush along my cheekbones and his eyes dart across my face, “I don’t want to stop doing this, Vallie.” He whispers and it twists a knife in my chest.

I don’t want to stop either, I want to say.

I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck pulling him closer. “Nick, we-”

“I know.” He says sadly, but with a slightly hopeful pitch. “The guys are coming around, nobody has to know but us five. I can wait, Val.” His voice pleads. “I can wait, I can wait until you’re ready, until we can. There’s something here, I know you feel it too, I can feel it. I just can’t do this anymore, it’s torture being around you.” His words accelerate as he speaks. “It takes everything in me not to touch you. I can’t be around you, let alone live with you and pretend that I don’t love you.” His eyes widen a bit at what he just blurted out.

My own eyes round wide at him and my heart feels so full it could pop. “You… what?”

He closes his eyes, “I know that I shouldn’t.” His voice strained before meeting my gaze again. “But I do.”

I blink up at him as he confirms the same words that have been swirling on the tip of my tongue. My hands slide down to hold his face. “I love you too, Nicholas.” I whisper in the space between us.

“You do?” He asks, almost surprised though I can’t tell if it’s because I said it or because I mean it, maybe both.

“Yes. I love you, I love you,” My hands pull him closer as I repeat the words like a prayer; now that I’ve said them, I can’t stop. “I love you, I love you,” Before I can get to the fifth ‘I love you’ he wraps my legs around his hips and lifts me off the counter with him still inside me. He carries me into the living room and before I can question anything, we reach his intended destination.

He lays me down on the couch - the same couch we got high on and ate Jolly Ranchers and ice cream. The couch where we first experienced each other’s bodies. It's not the couch where our love began but it is where it bloomed.

Our lips rejoin immediately, getting swept up in our newly confessed love. I felt him hardening inside me again before we even left the kitchen. My arms wrap around his neck and my legs close in around his hips, trying to get him as close as possible.

His hips begin to rut into me, gliding easily with his previous release still inside. It begins tender and slow but as with anything with Nick, it heats up quickly. He uses one hand to hook behind my knee pulling my hips up and closer to him and I let out a gasp at the new, deeper angle. His lips find my neck again, placing needy but tender open mouth kisses there. “I need you to feel how much I love you.”

My nails dig into his back at his words, “Fuck.” I moan out as his tip hits my g-spot directly in rapid succession with no reprieve. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too.” He says softly against my neck, pressing a gentle kiss there. “God, you feel fucking amazing.” It was like once we gave in and admitted to our feelings, it amplified the sex tenfold.

My head feels like it’s spinning when I nod in agreeance, desperately, “You fill me up so good, baby.” I let the name slip in the cloud of pleasure.

“Fuck, call me that again.” He nearly growls and lands one hard thrust flush against my hips.

It made my heart swell, thankful that he liked it, then had my walls pulsing around him in the realization that he really liked it.

“I love your fucking cock, baby.” I repeat the petname.

“Yeah?” He smirks, against my skin, “You like the way I stretch you out, angel?”

I flutter my eyes closed, feeling so complete in our surrender to one another, like this was how we were meant to be with each other from the beginning. It’s overwhelming how all of our suppressed words and feelings were all crashing into us at once. We broke open the floodgates and we were drowning in each other.

“God yes.” I dig my nails deeper into his flesh, feeling the daunting size of him trying to split me in two.

“Fuck, you take me so fucking good.” He mumbles in a low voice, and I feel myself clench as much as I can around his girth like I need to keep him there forever. He groans at the feeling, “Oh, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up.” His hand frantically finds my clit again, beginning tight circles into it.

My breath hitches in my throat and my eyes widen, that being the only thing I needed to send me into my second orgasm. He’s not far behind with hard, staggered thrusts chasing his own high.

Our climaxes arrive rapidly with the passionate expression of our love. For the second time that day, we hit our peaks together in unison, letting the confessions of our love fill the room.

He practically falls and melts into me as our chests heave in time with each other. After a bit his eyes look down at me, still hazy with lust, now mixed with love. “It’s not enough.” He says hastily.

My brows furrow at his words, lifting myself up to my elbows as he slowly makes his way down my body. “What do you mean?”

He lands at my hips, spreading my legs apart. “I said that I need you to feel how much I love you. Fucking you with my cock isn’t enough.”

Before I can protest or inquire, his head is dipped between my thighs and his tongue is latched to my already-overstimulated clit.

“Oh, no, no, no.” My hand flies into his hair as I shake my head quickly. “No, Nick, I can’t – oh – not again,” I hiss at his blatant disregard and try to squirm away. “Fuck – It’s too much.”

He groans against me and his hand grip onto my hips stiffly, keeping me locked in place. “Stay fucking still.” He growls the demand without pulling his mouth away, every word sending a vibration through my body.

Every move of his tongue is intentional in a specific pattern, if I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if he was actually spelling out ‘I love you’. Regardless of that being factual or not, it doesn’t matter because it feels like he was writing loveletters with his tongue.

Every flick and swirl, sends a jolt through my entire being. My movements beneath his mouth can only be described as thrashing as my center is flooded with stimulation it wasn’t ready to receive again. It’s heavenly but almost painful at the same time. “Slower, please.” I beg but it’s futile; once Nick’s determined on something, its hard to convince him otherwise.

I tug at the roots of his hair and wriggle as much as I can with him keeping me in place. I’d felt my high creeping up, but I didn’t expect it to crash into me out of nowhere. It hits me all at once, my hips buck into him and my grip on his hair must be painful, but he doesn’t falter, not for a second. Silent screams ghost my throat as pleasure rips through me, violently. His tongue continues to roll at the perfect speed in all the right patterns, dragging out my high into the longest one I’ve ever had.

He finally tapers off of me and looks up at me through my parted legs. “I could do that all fucking day.”

I deflate into the cushions with a sigh, my ears still ringing from the overwhelming pleasure that just possessed my entire being. He kisses up my body, reaching up and planting a chaste kiss to the side of my mouth. “Was that too much?” He questions in a whisper.

I shake my head lazily, out of breath. “Perfect.” Is all I can get out.

The edge of his lips curl into a smirk. “I knew it would be.” And places a prideful kiss to my shoulder.

Once cleaned up, we laid on the couch together with me cuddled into his side and my head on his chest. The silence around us is both comforting and nerve wracking. The air is thick with fragility, like if one of us moves or speaks our bubble will burst.

As we lie there, the quiet moments stretch out, and I can feel his heartbeat steady under my ear. It’s a rhythm that grounds me, making everything else fade away. His fingers trace gentle patterns on my arm, and I close my eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch. There’s a comforting sense of relief in surrendering completely to each other, finally. I’m not sure what this all means for us, but it feels good to finally admit it outloud.

We stay like that for the rest of the night, enveloped in a bubble of shared intimacy. The outside world, with all its complications and uncertainties, feels distant and unimportant. Right now, we are just two people who have found comfort in each other’s arms. The complex reality and fragile hope for what might come next hangs in the air, but for now, they don’t need to be addressed. The uncertainty still lingers, but it’s softened by the honesty we’ve shared today. Tomorrow will bring its own set of challenges and questions, but in this moment, I allow myself to simply be with him, wholly. All that matters is the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the soft whisper of our breaths mingling in the quiet room. It’s enough to simply be together, a luxury we’ve denied ourselves of for so long—to find solace in the closeness and love that has always been there, begging to be acknowledged from the beginning.

Taglist; @ladyveronikawrites @persuasivus @kingdomof-omens @strawberryruffilo @the-hell-i-overcame @cncohshit @dominuslunae @thebadchic @to-be-written @myownthoughts12 @measuredingold [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

A/N; The love for this story is something I never expected and I am truly grateful for it. Sorry that this took so long or if it's not up to par. I would love to hear your thoughts and predictions 👀 Thank you SO much for reading 💗

#i've edited this a million times and i can't look at it anymore #but this is my favorite chapter so far i think #even tho im still not happy w it lol #concreteburialplot works #noah sebastian fanfic #nosh sebastian fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nick ruffilo fic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #virality #virality series #nicholas ruffilo x ofc #nick ruffilo x ofc #nicholas ruffilo angst #nicholas ruffilo smut #nicholas ruffilo fluff

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stench-blossom · 1 year ago

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The Strokes on meeting each other

Various excepts from the book “Meet me in the Bathroom: Rebirth and Rock and Roll in New York City 2001–2011” by Elizabeth Goodman

“NICK VALENSI: I remember what Julian was wearing the day I met him in middle school: blue jeans and a white button-down shirt. The shirt had the name of his former school on it - which was funny to me, that he wore the uniform from his old school to the first day of his new school. I was thirteen, he was fifteen.

JULIAN CASABLANCAS: We met at orientation at the Dwight School.

FABRIZIO MORETTI: Dwight sucked.

…

NIKOLAI FRAITURE: Julian was cool even before the band. He was cool from first grade. We went to Friends School, on the Upper East Side. I don't remember meeting him but I remember when our friendship was solidified. We were six or seven. Our school had a water main break. It was in the morning so it was right after class started and everyone had to go home. My parents were working and they couldn't come to pick me up, so Julian told me to come home with him. The water main didn't get repaired for three days so I just stayed over.

FABRIZIO MORETTI: Nikolai was always around. Julian has this very attractive way of being, even on a subconscious level. People run the risk of wanting to bend towards his wishes. And at that time, the way I saw it, Nikolai was the only one who Julian would bend to. That changed, but I remember Nikolai's school got out later than ours, and Julian would wait for what seemed like a long time, for him to come home and just hang out.

NICK VALENSI: Fab was in my grade at Dwight-I didn't have classes with Julian, but I had English and French with Fab.

FABRIZIO MORETTI: Then they found out Nick was actually better at French than they initially graded him so he moved. We were all friends. But I always felt like I was chasing them, like I wasn't cool enough. They would kinda let me in every once in a while. They were thick as thieves, those two. I would try to hang out with them, and it always felt like a privilege when I did.

…

NIKOLAI FRAITURE: The first time I met Nick, were going to a music store on Forty-Eighth Street, Sam Ash. He was much younger than Julian and I were-he was thirteen and we were fifteen- but then we got home and he played "The Star-Spangled Banner" by Jimi Hendrix and I was like, "Holy shit."

NICK VALENSI: Right away Julian and I started doing music together. He started writing songs basically right away.”

…

RYAN GENTLES: Those guys all go so far back. Albert knew Jules since they were eight years old. He met Jules when he was eight!

ALBERT HAMMOND JR.: Julian and I went to boarding school together in France.

JULIAN CASABLANCAS: Before Dwight, I was kind of messing up in school as usual so I got sent to the boarding school that my father had gone to and that he loved. I had a roommate who had some video games, Street Fighter II and shit. People would come over and play.

ALBERT HAMMOND JR.: We connected in a way where he was like an older brother. We hung out in his room and played video games, that kind of thing. I was like a little kid to him, even though really, it was only a two-year difference.

JULIAN CASABLANCAS: Albert was a little younger so I wasn't really friends with him then, but he was one of the only other Americans there. I kept a pretty low profile at that school. I mean, it was a pretty big culture shock.

…

ALBERT HAMMOND JR.: I met Julian and Nikolai first, before I even tried out for the band. We went to Ryan's Daughter and had margaritas. I was never a big drinker. I was more of a stoner in L.A., so I was pretty wasted already, and then they were like, "Let's get forties!" I was like, "You want beer after this?" So we get forties and we're hanging out on the east park, Eighty-something, drunk.

NIKOLAI FRAITURE: Oh yeah, Carl Schurz Park, with the L.A. boy.

ALBERT HAMMOND JR.: It was a fun little bonding experience. Then I went home and threw up everywhere.

…

#the strokes #julian casablancas #nick valensi #fab moretti #fabrizio moretti #nikolai fraiture #albert hammond jr

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bobafetts-princess · 6 months ago

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Good Luck Charms

Months 7-12

Summary: After things have become a touch less frosty between you and Detective Magalon, you find that you actually like the man quite a bit. Maybe more than you bargained for.

Pairings: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: cursing, canon-typical sexism, mentions of substance issues (pain meds), someone gets shot.

A/N: This is slow burnnnnnnnnnnn

Months 1-6 can be found here!

MONTH 7

Month 7 is when things change.

It’s a raid. You’ve all been on one before but never together and the guys have never seen you this dressed down. They’ve only ever seen you in work clothes; pencil skirts and jackets, power suits, wrap dresses, slacks and silk blouses. You never have a hair out of place, it’s always styled with the perfect work makeup.

But today your hair is braided, you’ve got on jeans and a pink button down and brown boots, with a bulletproof vest over the top. Not an ounce of makeup. It’s a different side of you and the guys don’t know what to make of it.

“Fed? Is that you?”

“What’ve you done with the chick that comes to the office every day?”

“Well damn I didn’t know you owned a pair of jeans!”

You roll your eyes at all of them, flipping them the bird which makes them cackle. Detective Magalon doesn’t say anything, but it doesn’t bother you.

Really. It doesn’t.

But the raid goes sideways, only a little. One of the ATF guys doesn’t clear a room completely and you get shot.

Well, not really shot. More like grazed. It rips a hole in arm of your shirt and slices you deep enough that you think you’ll need stitches, but you’re alive and that’s the important part. You’re just lucky it was your non-dominant arm so you can still pull the trigger.

Detective Magalon takes the guy down and checks on you, but you wave him off. It’s not the first time you’ve been shot and in your line of work? It won’t be the last either.

“I’m fine. Finish the raid. Suspect is in the center,” you yell over the sound of gunfire. Big Nick finds him and tackles him down, wrestling with the gun and managing to get it away from him. You’re next in, jumping on the suspects back and getting cuffs on him before he has a chance to get away.

You’re running on pure adrenaline and haul the suspect up, it’s the head of cocaine sect of the organization. Catching him alive was the number 1 priority of this mission and you and Detective Magalon (with the help of his team) have succeeded. You shove him out, handing him off to Mike to be booked and turn, looking to the team. They’re exchanging high fives and cheers and Detective Magalon smiles at you. Henderson comes to high five you and you raise your arm to give him one back. You’re smiling and relieved until a shot of pain goes through your arm and you have to drop it.

Benny knows you got shot. He was there when you jerked, grabbed the spot and yelled at him to keep going. He knows you got shot even though you cuffed the suspect and marched him out. He really knows you got shot though when you move to give Henderson a high five and gasp in pain. Medical doesn’t arrive quick enough (in his opinion, at least) but they end up patching you up. They’ve gotta strip you out of that pretty pink button up, leaving you in a white undershirt and jeans as they give you stitches in the back of an ambulance. Benny notices a tattoo along your collarbone that he hadn’t seen before and he wants to get a closer look.

“You good?” He asks, stepping over after being checked himself. You glance up at him and Benny is surprised to see a light dancing in your eyes, the after-effects of an adrenaline rush no doubt. The guys are behind him, checking in on you at the same time he is. He catches some words and a date, something he definitely can’t see when you wear your buttoned up power suits and those fucking pencil skirts.

“I’m good, Detective,” your eyes are flicking between them all and you turn your body, wincing slightly as the needle punctures skin and he reads what the ink says. ‘How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard’. Benny wonders if it’s about an ex but shakes the thought away before it can take root. Why would you get a tattoo about an ex anyways? Stupid thought. But then you’re speaking again, drawing Benny’s attention. “It’s not the first time I’ve been shot. At least this one didn’t require surgery.” You quip and Benny’s eyebrows raise at the insinuation. He knows the group chat is gonna blow up about this little insight into your life in a while and Benny already wants to put his phone on mute.

************

MONTH 8

With month 8 comes…..coffee? You’ve found this little hole in the wall place by your government issued apartment that serves fantastic coffee. They open at 5:30 in the morning, so when you get there at 5:45, the coffee is hot and fresh. They know you by first name at this point and know what time you come by in the morning. It’s easier than making drip coffee and it tastes better too.

Well one morning your alarm doesn’t go off. Or you shut it off. Or you sleep through it. You’re not really sure what happens. But you do know when you open your eyes and check the clock and see 7:30, you’re flying out of bed. You dress and clean up in record time and are out the door by 8:15, to your coffee shop by 8:20 and ordered before 8:25.

It’s 8:45 before you get a coffee in hand.

“I’m so sorry honey!” Shouts the owner, a stunning woman in her late 60’s. “One of my girls has the flu and one of our coffee machines broke!”

“It’s okay Mrs. Akron,” you assure her but god you are so late. You’re never late. Ever.

“Here darling,” she says, out of breath and frazzled. “Take a large black coffee, on me!” She thrusts your caramel macchiato at you as well as the large black. You start to protest but she won’t let you. “I insist! You’re running late and probably overslept, so you might need an afternoon boost. Take it,” she says, closing your hand around the cup. You nod at her, stopping to stuff a $50 in the tip jar before you make it to work. You roll in at 9:00, three hours late. The entire office whips their heads up and watches you walk in but you refuse to let it bother you.

“You good?” Detective Magalon asks and doesn’t press when you nod.

“Do you drink black coffee?” You ask before you lose the nerve. He’s bought you so much food, the least you can do is give him your extra coffee. “My coffee shop gave me an extra and….” You trail off, setting the coffee on his desk and taking a seat without an answer.

“Thanks.”

You simply nod but a couple times a week you bring him a large black coffee.

*************

MONTHS 9&10

Months nine and ten brings a trial and it’s a long trial. The examination and cross examination and evidence and witnesses take nearly 6 weeks. You and Detective Magalon spend nearly every waking hour together, working with the district attorney to make sure all goes the way it should.

You’re both emotionally, mentally, and physically drained and by the time the jury is sent off to make their own decision, you feel like you can nap for hours.

In fact, you do.

The couch in the district attorney’s office is so dammed comfortable and you’re sitting next to Detective Magalon, whose body is just radiating heat. You’d both just finished testifying, his took 3 hours and yours took 4. You’re silent next to each other, too drained from all the information you had to recall and all the talking.

The next thing you know, you wake up. Your head is resting against Detective Magalon’s shoulder and you might (you’ll deny if anyone asks) have drooled on his shoulder. You push off him and get some distance between your bodies.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. This case has taken it out of me. How long did I sleep?”

“Three hours.” He says, clicking his phone shut and looking at you.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re kidding? I’m so sorry,” you tell him but he waves you off.

“It’s been a long trial. I don’t blame you for being tired,” he says, standing. You hear his knees crack when he does and see a wince of pain cross his face as he makes his way to the restroom.

Oh my god, he let you sleep even though he had to piss? There’s no way you’re unpacking that right now.

Benny never tells you that he fell asleep too.

When the verdict comes back a few weeks later and the suspect is found guilty as sin, you celebrate. It’s only one person, only one head of the hydra you’re dealing with, but it’s something.

The guys get a couple packs of beer and one Friday after work, you drink together.

“Fed! You have to hang with us for a little while. You just had your first successful trial with us,” Connors insists and you agree to stay.

“One beer!” You tell them and they laugh and wave you off. It’s the first time you’ve ever drank with them and you’re so damn careful not to overdo it. They shoot the shit, swapping stories and peppering you with questions you refuse to answer.

“Still no boyfriend?”

“Is it hard working around such attractive dudes all the time?”

“Ever smoked weed? Does smoking disqualify you from being a fed?”

“You seem like the type to own a cat”

“Got a hot sister?”

Benny notices the last one makes you wince and he wonders why. Then he tells himself that it’s none of his business. But then he thinks of your tattoo and he can’t help but try to put the pieces together.

“Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I wouldn’t know, all y’all are ugly.”

“No it doesn’t disqualify you.”

“That’s a weird statement.”

You swallow hard before you answer the last one.

“Doesn’t matter if I do, none of you are meeting her.”

Benny can see you’re uncomfortable and he doesn’t want the guys to latch on. So he takes the reins of the conversation, asking Big Nick about his latest divorce. Of course he launches into a huge speech about how it’s not his fault that he likes pussy so much and blah blah blah.

Benny shoots you a glance and notices you looking at him. You give him a small nod and raise your bottle in thanks.

At least, Benny thinks it’s in thanks.

********

MONTH 11

Month 11 earns you a nickname.

It’s another raid. Another head of the hydra that you’re looking for. You wear basically the same outfit, only this time the button down is army green instead of soft pink.

“You ready?” Magalon asks you, standing next to you and you wonder if he’s thinking of the last raid where you got shot. He’s wearing a long-sleeved black shirt with a grey LASD beanie over his hair. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and you see the strong salt-and-pepper there. It makes you twitch, low in your belly and wonder if he has-Jesus. A raid. You’re wearing a goddamned bulletproof vest and are getting ready to charge into a building where you might potentially get shot. Tamp that shit down.

“Yeah. I don’t think anyone is ever fully ready but I’m as ready as I can be,” you tell him, twisting your neck to look up at him.

“Try not to get shot this time,” he chuckles, looking at you. You nod, smiling as well and promising to do your best.

You get shot.

You actually get fucking shot.

It happens in a flash, one second the LAPD is declaring the room and by extension the building clear. The next second, you’re on the ground absolutely gasping for air.

“What the fuck?” Connors yells, pointing his gun that direction as Magalon covers your body with his own.

“You’re like a fucking magnet for bullets,” Magalon grumbles at you, grabbing you by the shoulder straps and moving to haul you out.

“Stop,” you gasp. “I’m fine, got the wind knocked out of me,” you tell him, pushing him off. The last thing you need is him getting shot in the back because he’s worried about you. “Get the suspect,” you tell him, pushing him off and finding cover behind a couple barrels off to your left. There’s a few more shots and a small shout of pain, hopefully from someone that isn’t on your side, before everything stops.

The barrels are moved out of the way and your gun flies up before you see who it is. Magalon. You never thought you’d be so happy to see him. “He’s cuffed. Connors shot him in the shoulder too but he’ll be fine. Unfortunately. Come on, you need a hospital,”

“No. No hospital. I’m fine,” you insist.

“Bullshit. Can you walk or do I need to carry you?”

“I’m fine. Seriously.”

“I guess I’m carrying you,” he says, handing his gun to Big Nick and moving to take off his own bulletproof vest.

“Damnit, I can walk,” you say, moving to stand.

“Good. Walk yourself to the ambulance so we can go to the hospital,” his jaw is set and you know that you’re going to end up at the hospital whether you like it or not.

“Fucking stubborn ass,” you snipe at him as you pass your own gun off to Connors.

“I’m going to get you a four leaf clover for luck, maybe then you’ll stop getting shot,” he shoots back and you can hear the frustration laced in his tone. As well as something else? Fear? Surely not.

“Ha!” Big Nick laughs and everyone turns to look at him. “That’s the perfect nickname for our fed. Clover,” and you groan because you know it’s going to stick. There’s no way it’s not going to stick. You don’t even get a chance to think about them calling you ‘our’ fed until you’re in the waiting room of the hospital.

—————————

“It’s two broken ribs and a nasty bruise,” says the ER doctor, sticking your x-rays up. “Desk duty for the next two months,” she tells you and you groan. Magalon hasn’t left your side yet, the others have, reports to write and debriefs to be held. “I’m going to give you some pain meds, I think the adrenaline hasn’t worn off yet and that’s the reason you aren’t feeling much pain.” You have been feeling pain but downplaying it in the hopes of fooling the doctor. Unfortunately for you, x-rays can’t fool a doctor. “I’m also going to insist that you take the next four days off, bed rest.”

She stares you down and you have no choice but to nod and agree. She turns to Magalon and says “as her partner, I fully expect you to keep her from over-exerting. And absolutely no sex until those ribs are healed,” she wags her finger at the two of you and you both splutter at the same time.

“We’re no-“

“It’s not like-“

The poor woman is confused and you can see why because Magalon introduced himself as your partner when they brought you back to the waiting room.

“I’m FBI,” you explain.

“I’m LA County Sheriffs Department. We’re partners on a case,” Magalon finishes the explanation.

“Ah, well. Regardless,” she points her fingers at you, “you’re on bed rest for four days.” She turns to Magalon, “I don’t know if you can make that happen but I expect you should try.” He nods and she moves to leave the room. “And I know you’re not being truthful about how much pain you’re in,” she points at you again and your face heats. Her finger swings to Magalon, “make sure she takes a pain medication. Take it with food. It’ll probably put you to sleep,” she warns before she heads out.

She must decide that either you aren’t going to take one or Magalon isn’t going to be able to convince you to take one because a nurse makes you take one before you’re allowed to leave.

“She’ll need another one in four hours,” she warns before she takes off. And of course, it takes almost 45 minutes to get out. Between filling the script and getting discharged, by the time you make it to the parking lot you’re a zombie. It’s been a long day and you’re sore, exhausted, and grouchy.

“I had the guys bring your car,” he tells you and you nod. “What’s your address? I need it to get you home,” he says. His voice is soft, like one you would use around a skittish dog as he helps you into the passenger seat but your tongue is thick and heavy and you can’t form words.

By the time Benny makes it back to the drivers seat, you’re asleep. Passed out against the center console and Benny can’t help but smile. You look so soft and peaceful and not at all like a woman who just got shot.

Benny decides to take you to his place since he doesn’t know how to get to yours. He bridal carries you up the stairs to his apartment and manages to get you inside without waking you. Benny settles you down in his bed, unsure of whether to leave your clothes the way they are or try to change you into something comfortable and decides to go with the latter.

He removes your shirt, hoping you’ve got a tank underneath it like last time and is relieved to find one. He slips one of his t shirts over your head, pulling it down across your body before reaching under to pull down the tank. He refuses to look at the tattoo, knowing it’ll kick his brain into overdrive if he does. When he removes the undershirt, Benny must brush against your bruise because you groan in pain but he manages to get it off without waking you. Remembering an old trick from a previous lifetime, he unsnaps your bra and pulls it out the arm holes of the shirt, tossing it with the tank. Jeans are last and he makes sure to keep the shirt pulled all the way down as he blindly unbuttons and strips you. Finally, he tucks you under the covers and grabs a pillow to take to the couch. He sets an alarm and passes the fuck out.

The thing that wakes you is the aching pain in your ribs. You groan, doing your best to sit up but god, they hurt so bad. Glancing around the room you expect to see your collection of plants and pink sheets, but are surprised by bare walls and black sheets.

“Where the fuck-“ you start but then Magalon appears in the doorway. It’s that moment that you realize you’ve been changed into clothes that aren’t yours and you narrow your eyes at him.

“I didn’t see anything. I closed my eyes,” he tells you, crossing the room. “I had to take you to my place because you fell asleep before you could give me your address,” he explains. He’s got a protein bar in one hand and a cup in the other and he hands the cup to you first. “It’s time for your next pain med,” he drops the little pill in your hand, “I know your ribs hurt,” he gives you a pointed look. Grimacing you take the pill and chase it with the water.

“Thank you,” you say when he hands you the protein bar. Scarfing it down, you glance up at him as he nods. “I’m sorry I fell asleep. God, you probably had to carry me inside, didn’t you?” Magalon chuckles and nods.

“I need to tell you that I’m not leaving your side until you can go back to work,” and you open your mouth to protest. “Nope. No arguments. I’m more than happy to take you back to your own place if that would make you more comfortable, but you are stuck with me,” he says and you can tell he isn’t going to argue with you about it and you don’t have the energy to try either.

“Fine. How did you get me changed without ‘seeing anything’?” You smile as he explains, careful not to laugh because you know that it’s going to hurt. “I need to shower. Do you think I’ve got enough time before this kicks in?”

“Not sure, but I think it might be safer to wait until you’ve rested a little more,” you can’t help but agree because as he leaves the bedroom again you feel the deep weight of exhaustion overtake you again and before you know it, you’re out.

—————————

The next time you wake, Benny is already there and waiting for you.

“No, I want to try to shower first,” shaking your head at him and trying to sit up. Goddamn, your ribs hurt. He gives you a hand and leads you to the bathroom.

“I’m sure I don’t have the right…anything. But feel free to use anything in my shower,” he says. “But leave the door unlocked just in case you need me. Do you want me to try to make you something to eat?” Your stomach gives an aggressive grumble at that exact moment and he laughs. “Fried egg sandwich? Coffee?” Nodding at both he takes off to his kitchen. Heading into the bathroom, you flip on the lights and take a look at yourself in the mirror. You look like absolute shit. Red eyes, dark circles, your hair is a mess and a half. You haven’t washed your face recently and you know that the shower is going to dry your skin out. Of course Magalon doesn’t have any body lotion either.

Stripping off the tshirt, one of Magalon’s no doubt, you inspect the large bruise on your right side. It takes up almost your entire ribcage, stretching from under your breasts to almost touching your hipbone and it’s a nasty deep purple. It’ll only worsen over the next couple days too, turning brown to green to yellow. When you turn on the shower, you realize you don’t have a clean towel.

“Magalon?” You call out and hear his answering response. “I don’t have a towel, can you bring me one?” There’s silence, then he calls back that he’ll do it in just a second. Locating a brush, you step into the shower and groan at the hot water on your skin. Magalon has a nice shower, a cool grey tile with glass doors. And he has several body washes to choose from. And an actual shampoo and conditioner, not a 4-in-1 combo. You wash your hair with one hand because it hurts to raise the other and skip washing your feet cause you can’t bend over to reach them, but damn do you feel better.

The towel and a pair of sweats is right outside the bathroom door when you get out. You try to rip a brush through your hair, but the exertion makes your ribs hurt too much. So instead, you dress and head to the kitchen. Magalon is in there, plating a sandwich and setting it next to a cup of coffee. Your damn ribs are absolutely aching but right now? You’re more hungry than you are anything else.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. But you’re my partner and I’ve got your back.” Swoon. No-wait. No swoon. Swooning is bad.

“Can I ask you for a small favor?” He nods and you hold out the brush. “It hurts too much to try and brush it.” He takes the brush and looks at it a little funny before he moves to stand behind you. He’s so gentle with it, afraid to put any tension on your head and hurt you. He gets through it as you sip on the coffee, (black, gross) and it doesn’t take him much time and you feel so much better when he’s done.

“Do you want to take your pill now or after you eat?” You opt for now and he hands it to you with a cup of water. “Still tired? Did showering hurt? Do you need to nap?”

“A little but not like I was. No, I feel a lot better being clean. I guess we’ll have to see.”

“Do you want to head back to yours or stay here for now?”

“I’d like to go back to my place, but maybe food first,” Magalon nods and you suppose you should be calling him Benny now. “Clover is gonna stick, isn’t it?” He looses a chuckle and grabs his phone, pulling up a text thread.

Big Nick: How’s Clover?

Benny: Fine. She’s resting. Pain pills took her out.

A couple hours later.

Z: Clover still out?

Benny: Ya. Long day for her. She’s at mine.

Big Nick: Damn Borracho, how did you get that to happen?

Z: OooOOooooHHhhhhh

Connors: Apparently only drugged women go home with you.

Henderson: Y’all are obnoxious

Benny: Fell asleep before I could get her address.

A couple hours later.

Connors: Clover good? Still out?

Benny: Ya. And ya.

Henderson: You know Borracho, my favorite thing about you is how conversational you are.

You snort a laugh and immediately regret it, grabbing at your ribs.

“Are they always like that?”

“As long as I’ve known them. They’ve taken to you though, more than any other person we’ve worked with. Man or woman.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“They’re used to other departments being straight-laced and talking shit about us. You haven’t done that. You call the guys out when they need it and let shit slide that doesn’t. They respect that,” he says, shrugging.

“Is that what happened with the other female agents that worked with you guys?” And he nods.

“By now you know how they are and if they think they’ve found something that’ll bother you, they dig in. And they don’t know when to quit.”

Nodding you ask, “is that how you got the nickname Borracho?” It’s a far cry from how you made fun of his nickname all those months ago. He sighs heavily and you know it’s a story that irritates him a little.

“One time, back when it was Big Nick, Henderson and me, we had a work event. It was fancy and an open bar, so I naturally got shit-faced. Nick and his first wife had to help me out and make sure I didn’t vomit all over myself. Nick started calling me Borracho and I never got rid of it, especially once they realized I hate it.” Your sandwich is gone by now and you move to go put the plate in the sink but Benny stops you. He takes the plate and puts it in the dishwasher before coming to sit next to you again.

“That’s a horrible way to get a nickname,” you smile at him and he smiles back.

“Tell me about it.” A pause. “Getting shot is a much cooler way to get a nickname,” and you shoot him a small glare. “Do you want to try and nap again or are you alright?” Between the shower and the conversation, you’re exhausted again so you opt for another nap. “While you sleep I’m gonna run to the office and grab some files so I can get some work done while I’m out,” he tells you and you nod, drifting back down the hallway to his room. Pulling back the sheets and sliding in, you don’t even hear the front door shut before you’re asleep again.

—————————

You’ve forgotten how much you hate being on bed rest. It’s been years since you last were but good god it is awful. At least there’s company. Once Benny got back from the office with a box in the SUV and some get-wells from the boys, you’d finally felt rested. You got Benny to take you back to your own apartment and he chuckles when he walks in.

“This is the girliest place I’ve ever been in.”

“Leave my decoration choices alone,” but he’s not wrong. Everything is soft and feminine, a grey couch with pink and grey pillows. A baby pink sheets and comforter set and plants everywhere. “Thanks. Seriously. I appreciate you staying with me to make sure I’m okay.”

“No coffee machine?” He asks in lieu of a response.

“I only get coffee from that one place,” you remind him. “It’s easier and it tastes better than drip coffee from a pot.” He laughs and says whatever before he sets the files on your counter.

“Two more days, then you can go back to work,” he reminds you and you stick your tongue out at him when his back is turned. Your ribs still ache but you can at least take a pain pill and not pass out within 20 minutes, so that’s an improvement. “Do you want to sift through these files with me?” He asks and you groan. You don’t, you’re too foggy. “Okay okay, we don’t have to,” he chuckles and turns to you. “What do you feel like doing?”

Truth be told, you want to watch a show. Your favorite romantic show just released a new season last week and you want to get caught up. But it’s steamy and not a show to be watched with a coworker so you say, “is there a game on?” Benny quirks a brow at you and you sigh. You like sports but you just aren’t in the mood for them.

“What do you actually want to watch?” When you give him the name of the show he belly laughs and says “let’s watch it. Cmon. I want to see what it’s like.”

Two hours and several spicy scenes later, Benny is deeply invested in this show. He keeps asking questions and insisting things don’t make sense, but that’s only because he hasn’t seen the first couple seasons. If it didn’t hurt so much to laugh, you would be in absolute tears by now because who knew that Detective Magalon from the LASD would be into regency romances?

“Who is that man?”

“They’re in the garden alone. Don’t they have to get married now?”

“He touched her tit, they definitely have to get married now.

“Who is this entire family?”

Finally you get tired of answering his questions and suggest that you start the whole series over, so he can be caught up. He gives you a side eye, but you ignore it, starting from Season 1 Episode 1 and let it play. The two of you get through the first four episodes before it’s time for another pain med, you’re trying to stretch out the time you need them so you can wean. After you take it you curl into the couch, Benny at one end and you at the other. It doesn’t take long for this one to knock you out and eventually you’re stretched out, your head in Benny’s lap as he finishes the season by himself.

He picks you up as gently as he can, walking you down the hall to settle you into your own bed. He takes the time to examine the pictures hung up in the hallway when he heads back to the couch. He notices a girl in your pictures, one so similar in a way that’s more than just a sibling. You both look about the same age and share the exact same smile, often the both of you holding matching Winnie the Pooh plushies. The pictures of the two of you stop when you reach late teens, Benny guesses somewhere between 17-19. It’s just you now, you and your parents, you and another sibling, a brother. Benny starts taking the pieces and putting them together. A memorial tattoo, a refusal to talk about your family. A decided sensitive spot about your sister, or lack of? Benny doesn’t want to make assumptions, he knows what they say about assuming. But he’s a cop, a long time cop, and he knows how to make an educated guess.

You wake in your own bed, surrounded by your fluffy pink comforter and a deep ache in your ribs. It’s not time for more pain meds, so you decide to ice them down instead. Sneaking past a sleeping Benny and you take the time to study his profile. Strong nose and jaw, salt and pepper in his beard, eyes that have a capability to be soft. He really is an attractive man, if you were being honest with yourself, which you try not to be. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, so much different without the deep furrow between his eyebrows. You try to be as quiet as possible as you make a bag of ice, but it doesn’t take him long to follow you into the kitchen.

“In pain?” He asks, leaning up against the counter. His beefy arms cross his chest and you have to avert your eyes quickly.

“Yeah. The sharp pains are gone but the aching pains won’t budge.” He nods before glancing at the clock.

“It’s early,” you glance at the clock yourself and notice it’s only 6 am. Old habits die hard. “Want to get out of the apartment for a while? We can go grab breakfast?” He offers. “Does that coffee shop you like serve a full breakfast?”

“Actually it does. I’ve never eaten breakfast there before though.”

“Are you willing to try it?”

“Anything to get out for a bit. Just let me finish icing my ribs first. It should take about 30 minutes. Do you need to go home and shower?”

Benny shakes his head, “nah, I took one in the guest room while you were sleeping. Want to watch your show while we wait?” Obviously the answer is yes and you can’t stop watching mid-episode so it’s after 7 by the time you leave the house. Benny orders literally only a cup of coffee and you side eye him a you order blueberry pancakes, bacon, and hashbrowns with a French vanilla cappuccino.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” He shakes his head at you.

“Nah, not much of a breakfast eater,” he says, taking a deep drink.

“Breakfast is the best meal of the day,” and it sends the two of you into an argument about which meal actually is the best meal. (Benny says they’re all the same, which leads you to believe he doesn’t eat much outside of work.)

This silly argument lasts nearly the entire time you wait for food and when it does arrive, you dig in. You’re so hungry that you almost don’t notice that Benny steals a piece of bacon off your plate. “Hey! Get your own food!” You cry, moving to stab him with your fork, but he manages to dodge. He laughs, a full belly laugh, and the sound is delicious. “You should’ve ordered something,” you warn, covering your food with your arms. “I don’t share food.”

He laughs again and flags down the waitress, ordering a side of bacon and some toast. You glare at him until it arrives, and the waitress chuckles as she fills his coffee. “I don’t share food with my boyfriend either,” and before you can argue that Benito Magalon is NOT your boyfriend, she’s gone.

————————-

Benny stays with you the next day and a half, until Monday and you’re allowed to return back to work. He offers to drive you but you refuse, telling him you go in much earlier than he does. “I can stay on your couch again. I’ll wake up when you wake up,” he says and you finally relent. So the next morning, at 6:30 you head into the kitchen, only to find Benny showered and holding coffee. “Hey. I grabbed coffee,” he lifts said coffee. “Want me to drive your car?”

It’s so bright in the office, much more bright than the low lights of your home, and it makes you wince.

“Clover!” Comes the cry from your office mates as they see you. You can’t help but smile and then it widens when you see what’s on your desk. A tiny pot with something green in it, which upon further inspection turns out to be…..clover.

“You guys have to be fucking kidding me,” you laugh, gently so not to upset your ribs. There’s a loud ruckus of laughter from them, as if it’s the funniest practical joke they’ve ever pulled. “You know this won’t live, right?” Examining it, you notice that it looks like they literally dug it up from the front lawn and stuck it in a pot. “It needs a lot more light than it’s gonna get sitting on my desk,” you explain before thanking them for doing something so thoughtful.

Big Nick steps out of his office to welcome you back, reaching over to slap a hand on your shoulder. You brace, waiting for the impact to jar your ribs but a sharp ‘don’t’ from Benny stops the hand before it connects. “Those ribs are still broke, Nick,” he says, barely lifting his eyes from his files to acknowledge Nick. Nick grunts, turns, tells you how good it is for you to be back, then disappears.

Lifting your eyes, you notice the same stunned expression on everyone else’s face and exchange of glances with one another. And glances with you.

That Monday is one of the longest of your career. you barely get anything done and all you want to do is go home and rest, but you can’t. It’s nearly midday when your patience snaps because Henderson looks at you funny when you grunt in pain.

“Got something to say, Henderson?” You snap and he gives you a wide, nervous glance before his eyes snap to Benny. “No. Don’t look at him, look at me. Do you have something to say?” Benny, you see him out of the corner of your eye, checks his watch and then pulls his phone out.

You’re so annoyed because you know they’re texting their little group chat. And you know they’re texting about you. Especially when four phones go off at the same time, more than once.

Borracho: it’s her first day off pain meds. Cut her some slack.

Nick: been there.

Henderson: same.

Z: does she need anything?

Borracho: food. And a coffee.

Z: what does she like?

Borracho: get her General Tso’s and house fried rice. And a caramel macchiato.

Z nods, getting up from his chair and heading out the door.

“Y’all texting about me?” You snap, eyes sharp as they bore holes in Benny’s head. He gives you this soft, pitying look that absolutely makes you rage and stand up suddenly before you double over in pain. Stupid fucking ribs. Stupid fucking perp that shot you. Stupid fucking pain meds. Wait-pain meds. Oh goddamnit. That’s why you’re so grouchy, you haven’t had any today and you’re sore and shaky.

“Are you alright?” Benny asks, standing. You wave him off, heading to the back of the bullpen where there aren’t any eyes and take a couple deep breaths. After four days of basically living together, you recognize the sound of Benny’s feet as they come up behind you. “Hurtin’?” He asks and you nod your head. “Want to head home?” You shake your head, but you really like the way he uses home like it’s somewhere the both of you are going.

“Nah, I just need a little bit of food and probably some coffee,” and you’re confused when Benny smiles.

“That’s where Z went. He’s grabbing Chinese and a caramel macchiato.” And you know that it was 100% Benny’s idea.

“Thanks Ben,” you smile at him, placing a soft hand on his forearm. There’s a moment there, in the back of the bullpen, between the two of you. You’ve been toeing that line all weekend, really for the last two months and this might be the turning point in your relationship. Benny feels safe. Benny feels like comfort. Someone you can trust. Someone you can count on.

Which is amazing to you because it’s such a far cry from where you started, nearly a year ago. Which makes you think, then makes you apologize.

“I’m sorry for how I acted when I first got here.”

“It’s fine. I think you had the right to be, these guys are a tough nut to crack,” he says, gesturing to the bullpen behind them. “They don’t take very well to others, especially fed. The ones we usually deal with are snarky and uptight. They make fun of us or judge us.” You understand, really you do. It makes sense, how defensive they are and how they treat new people. “Are you sure that you don’t want to head home? I can work from there,” he offers and it makes your chest tight. But his phone dings and it’s Z, letting him know that he’s back and that makes your chest tight again. These men care about you, your physical and mental well-being, and they want to make sure you’re okay. So, you shake your head at Benny and head back to your desk, lobbing an apology to everyone for your behavior, and sit down. Grabbing a file, you start to flip through it, but before you even have a chance to look at it, a bag and a coffee are set in front of you. You glance up and smile at Z, thanking him and apologizing to him in the same breath. He waves you off and sits down, but you can’t quite let it go.

“Z, what’s your cashapp. Or your Venmo? Let me pay for this, you didn’t have to go get it for me,” you tell him but he waves you off again.

“Nahh, Borracho already paid for it. Don’t worry about it,” and when you look at Benny, he refuses to look at you.

*************

Month 12

Month 12, you’re added into the group chat. Your phone buzzes one morning with one text from Big Nick and you notice that there’s a bunch of numbers there that you don’t recognize. Benny’s you do, but no one else. After about a week he stopped sleeping on your couch but he still gets to the office early and the two of you spend your mornings in companionable silence, sharing breakfast.

Big Nick: Anyone up for grabbing donuts this morning?

Big Nick: Also, drop your names so Clover knows who’s who.

Clover: Isn’t being a bunch of donut loving cops a little cliche?

Big Nick: Rude. No donuts for you.

You laugh a little out loud, noticing the ache in your ribs has almost completely disappeared, nearly two months after you got shot. You know Nick well enough now to know that he’s joking and he’s not being the rude, brash, asshole you initially thought that he was.

Zapata: It’s Z. Can’t this morning, gonna do a witness call.

Connors: This is Connors. I’m already at a crime scene, so I can’t. Save me some though!

Henderson: This is Henderson. I’m gonna be late as it is, I don’t have time.

Benny: Borracho can grab some from the usual place.

Clover: Don’t get any jelly filled ones, they’re the worst.

Zapata: Uh oh.

Clover: What?

Connors: NO JELLY FILLED? THAT’S UN-AMERICAN. I’M GOING BACK TO THE OTHER GROUP CHAT.

You laugh out loud again, the idea of Connors taking jelly-filled donuts so seriously honestly tracks for who he is as a person.

Clover: I’m sorry! Get all the jelly filled that you want, but get me long chocolate donut. No jelly, please.

Connors: Borracho, get a dozen jelly-filled just to spite Clover.

Clover: Awe, Connors. You’re hurting my feelings.

Big Nick: It’s too early to be reading this many messages.

Clover: You texted us first.

Benny: Chill or I won’t get donuts.

Henderson: You started the group chat.

Connors: You text first?!

Zapata: Speaking of, what should I name the chat?

Big Nick: Why does the group chat need a name?

Zapata: Our other chat is called The Regulators. We need to name this one too.

Connors: How about the FEDulators? It sounds the same!!

Clover: That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard, Connors.

Clover: How about Clover and the Four Leaf’s?

Zapata: OoOoOoOhHhHhH!!!!! I like that!!!!

Zapata changed the group name to 🍀Clover and the Four Leaf’s 🍀

Big Nick: Y’all are fuckin’ idiots.

You’re already in the office and lift your head at the sound of someone coming into the bullpen. It’s Benny, carrying two dozen donuts. He smiles at you and it makes something go slippery in your chest and Jesus you’re an adult.

“Welcome to the group chat. It’s hell here,” he laughs, holding out an open box for you to grab one. The two of you sit in silence, eating donuts and sharing files.

#Benny Magalon #Benny borracho Magalon #borracho Magalon #benny Magalon smut #Benny Magalon fanfic #Benny Magalon fanfiction #Benny Magalon fic #borracho Magalon fanfic #borracho Magalon fanfiction #borracho magalon fic #Karie writes #bobafetts Princess writes #maurice compte #Benny Magalon x reader #Benny borracho Magalon x reader #Benny Magalon x you #Benny borracho Magalon x you

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alex-wrestling · 4 months ago

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Randy’s gay panic

Randy Orton & Cody Rhodes (platonic, pre-slash)

Summary: “Is this how I die? Because of a kiss?

…Am I gay?”

Warnings: none!

A/N: a short one, but I think it turned out well! Based off of fanart from @mel-kusanagi (if you don’t want to be tagged let me know!)

Randy leaned against the wall, scrolling through Twitter aimlessly while he waited for Cody to arrive at the locker room. Too much drama, Randy thought, pressing the home button on his phone and checking his emails instead. He opened one from Nick, who said he couldn’t do Randy any ‘favours’. British people and their stupid spelling.

His phone buzzed, and he swiped down to see who had texted him.

Code-man: I’m here. Where are you?

Randy smiled.

Locker room

Randy leaned his head against his free hand and put his phone into his jeans pocket. He hadn’t seen Cody all week. Texting wasn’t too bad, the time difference was only an hour, but Randy missed being next to him.

Not like he’d say anything, though. It wasn’t like he was in love with him.

He heard the unmistakable sound of dress shoes on concrete, and looked up to see Cody walk over. “Hey, Codes.”

Cody smiled widely, and Randy could make out the little lines and dips in his cheeks. Sunbeams seemed to spring from his smile, and his blue eyes softened instantly. “Randy, hi! I haven’t seen you in a bit, I missed you! How have you been?”

Am I having a fucking heart attack?

Randy felt his cheeks heat up as he felt something in his chest burst. He clutched onto it, doubling over. Is this how I die? Because of a smile?

…Am I gay?

Randy didn't have time to answer as Cody ran over. “Oh my god, are you alright? Do I need to get a trainer?”

“‘M fine,” Randy managed to hiss out, still leaning against the wall. “My heart just feels weird.”

“What?!” Cody squawked. “What do you mean-”

“I’ll be fine,” Randy said again, “just need to lie down or something.”

Cody squatted down next to him and rested his hand against Randy’s shoulder. The touch alone sent electricity through his body. “I just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he muttered.

Deep breaths, Randy reminded himself, but it was nearly impossible with how close Cody was to him.

His eyes trailed down to his lips. I want to kiss him. Randy’s eyes shot back up with a quickness, and he saw Cody smile in his peripheral.

“Well, if you’re not hurt…” Cody stood up and stretched out, and Randy watched the muscles ripple under his pants. Nice going, captain obvious. “…I have a meeting with Nick about the Kevin situation.”

“Oh.”

“Unless you’re still feeling weird, then I guess he won’t mind if I’m late,” Cody said. “I’m more worried about you than anything else going on.”

Randy felt his face heat up again and debated whether he wanted to die on the floor from the attention he was receiving. “No, if he’s expecting you…”

“I guess I’ll get going,” Cody said, a twinge of something (sadness?) in his voice. He turned around and walked towards Nick’s office.

Randy felt his heart skip a beat. Probably several, but he wasn’t counting. That was obviously because of their friendship, it was only natural for them to be close. Right? Friends can kiss each other, can’t they?

Randy slowly got up off the floor and pulled his phone from his pocket. Opening google and shielding his phone, he typed, ‘am I in love with my best friend’.

Needless to say, he didn’t like the answer.

#randy orton #cody rhodes #candy #candy wwe #fanfic

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fanficforlife · 2 years ago

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Chapter Seven

"And?" Anna asked, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

"And, we dropped Tate off at school then we picked up a few things for the ranch. After he took me fishing at the river. We didn't catch anything but I did push him in. He pulled me in with though."

There was laughter on the other end of the phone and you couldn't help but let out a giggle. "Oh, honey. I'm so happy for you. Have you told him yet?"

"Um, one time when we were kissing a few weeks ago it started to go a bit further, I freaked out. A flashback of the last time Nick..."

"And?"

"I told him that Nick r-raped me. He figured it out actually and I just confirmed it. I know I need to tell him everything but I'm scared. I...I really like him. What if he changes his mind about me? What if he tells me to leave because he doesn't want to risk it if Nick does find me? He has Tate to think about so-"

"Violet," she cut you off, "if he's as great of a man as he sounds, everything will be okay. Especially since his father and brother know and they asked you to stay after you told them."

"Yeah..."

"There's only one way to find out and the longer you wait, the harder it will be for you to tell him. It's kind of like a bandaid, just rip it off."

"I know, you're right. John is watching Tate tonight so Kayce and I can have dinner. We're going to have it in an old trapper's cabin on their property. If we tried to in the house, Tate would be there talking a mile a minute... I should, I will tell him tonight."

"It's going to be okay, hun."

"I hope so." You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. "I should go so I can start getting ready."

"Alright. Don't worry about telling him, honey. I love you and I can't wait for you to tell me that he didn't change his mind because of him."

"I love you too. Tell James I said hi. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know how it goes. Have a good night."

"You too. Talk soon, hun."

A knock on your bedroom door drew your attention away from your reflection in the mirror. You opened it to see Kayce standing there wearing jeans, a black button-up shirt, his boots, and a cowboy hat.

His jaw dropped when he saw you. "Letty, you look amazing."

"Thank you." Heat crept across your cheeks as you looked down at the simple flowy, knee-length black dress with straps tied into bows on top of your shoulders that you had on. "You look nice too. I even got clean jeans this time." You teased. The other times the two of you had spent time together, it was usually during work or right after he was done. He was almost always dusty or dirty, not that you were complaining. He always looked good.

"Only the best for you." The red on your cheeks darkened and he smirked, stepping forward. He leaned in and gave you a small, soft kiss. "Ready to go?"

"Mhm." You slipped your hand in his waiting one and headed for the front door.

The two of you walked hand in hand across the yard and through some trees until you got to the cabin. He opened the door for you and the smell of pizza hit you. One of my favorites. "You remembered."

"Of course I did. It's pretty easy since it's also one of Tate's." He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you your waist. "I had to go to town to pick up some stuff for the ranch so I picked one up for date night." After placing a kiss on the side of your head, he took your hand and went inside.

An hour later your plate was still full and you hadn't spoken more than a handful of words. You had only been able to pick at the slice due to the nerves already filling your stomach.

"Baby?" Kayce's hand wrapped around yours, pulling you away from your thoughts. "Are you feelin' okay?"

"Yeah, I just- I'll be right back." You got up and went into the washroom. Your hands gripped the edge of the vanity. Tears pricked your eyes from the what if's. What if he breaks up with me? What if he wants me to leave? What if he gets mad? No, it doesn't matter. I have to tell him. After taking a deep breath and forcing the tears back, you opened the door.

He immediately stood up and walked over when he saw the look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"I...I'm ready to tell you everything."

He guided you to the couch and you both sat down. Your eyes immediately went to your lap. "Hey," He gently hooked his finger under your chin and lifted it. "Remember, no matter what."

A sad half-smile formed before you took a deep breath. "Um, it-it was always just me and my mom. I never knew my dad and she didn't have any other family. She was the best. She was a waitress at this great little restaurant and during high school, I started working there too." Your hands wrung together tightly. "The...the last month of my senior year I met Nick. He just finished training to be a police officer and started at the station a few blocks from the restaurant. He asked me out a week later. My mom didn't like him but she said it was my decision. Ten months later she died in a car accident. She was always trying to get me to break up with him but I loved him. I should have listened to her..." You trailed off as happy memories of your mom played through your head.

"I'm sorry, baby." His hands reached for yours and you squeezed them gratefully.

"I couldn't afford our rent by myself so Nick asked me to move in with him. Everything was good for the next year. Then the real Nick started to poke through. When he got mad he would call me names or say things but he always apologized and everything would be okay again. It went on like that for a couple more years. He became a detective and was great at it." You swallowed. "His parents were having a dinner party with their friends and family the night of my twenty-fourth birthday. They invited us and Nick insisted we go so we went. Before dinner, his parents thanked everyone for coming. Then Nick went up. He asked me to marry him, I said yes. The dinner party was actually to celebrate our engagement. Things went downhill from there. He went from just saying things to grabbing and pushing me. He was always jealous but it started getting worse." You took a shaky breath at the memories. "He wanted me to quit waitressing even though I loved it. His family came from money, his dad's the mayor, his mom stayed home. He never had to worry about working if he didn't want to. Whenever we were out and he had to introduce me to family or friends, they would make a disgusted face, like I wasn't good enough. I could tell he was embarrassed I was just a waitress so I quit. It wasn't long after that that he started getting mad about me still hanging out with my friends. I didn't have many, just a few people I worked with. He eventually cut them out of my life. That's when I started baking, I needed something to do. I also had to keep the house spotless or he'd get mad." You took a deep breath while Kayce's hand had a death grip on yours. "One day when I was doing laundry I found a girl's phone number in his pocket. When he got home I confronted him about it. He got mad at me for going through his stuff and admitted he had been cheating on me the entire time we were together. I took off my ring and set it on the table. He...he hit me."

Kayce let out a gruff breath.

"He apologized right away and swore he would stop. I knew I shouldn't but he has a way of getting into people's heads and I believed him."

"He didn't change." Kayce gritted out and you shook your head.

"A couple of months later I smelled perfume on his shirt. He kept picking up girls at the bar or getting together with old ones. I tried to break up with him and he got mad. He said the other girls didn't matter. I was the one he wanted to marry and be seen with. I laughed and he hit me, hard. He picked me up off the floor and pushed me against the wall, he said I couldn't leave because he needed me and couldn't live without me. He said he'd stop. He begged, got on his knees. I knew...I knew I should have left but I was scared, he was all I had. The things he said, I wanted to believe him. The next few months we moved into a new house and his mom and sister said we should finally start planning the wedding because I kept putting it off. I tried on dresses worth more than a years worth of rent for my old apartment, tried countless flavors of cake. We set the date for ten months later but there was something deep inside, a feeling. I couldn't marry him. When I told him, he lost it. He threw pictures on the floor, swore, and said terrible things. I told him I would stay so he would stop. After he fell asleep, I threw a few things in a bag, took the money he had in his wallet, and snuck out. He found me a few hours later at a motel on the edge of town. He dragged me home, hit me, choked me. I ran into our bedroom but couldn't lock the door in time. He threw me onto the bed and...and said he needed to remind me that I was his."

"Fuck." Kayce's fist hit the arm of the couch. "Letty, baby." His hand came back to yours.

You gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. "The next few weeks, I acted like nothing was wrong. I made dinner, went to his family or friends when he wanted. When he got mad he would hit me, choke me. I was outside having coffee one afternoon when the neighbors came out. They saw me and invited me over. I talked to them a few times in passing but it was always just a hi. I invited them over instead so if Nick came home early he would know where I was and wouldn't freak out. They told me all about their lives. He used to be a lawyer before he retired. They didn't have any kids, they loved traveling. I lost track of time and Nick came home. He was mad because dinner wasn't ready until he saw I wasn't alone. He changed back into the fake we're the perfect couple Nick as they got up and left. The second the door closed he hit me. He thought I told them about what he was like and since they didn't know him they would believe me. He didn't want me to talk to them anymore. I knew I had to get out but I didn't have my own money. I wasn't working and my name wasn't on his bank account or any of his credit cards. I started hiding the money I found in his pockets when I did laundry or what he left lying around on the dresser. I would take money out of his wallet whenever there was a lot in there so he wouldn't miss it. After a month and a half, I had almost two thousand dollars. When he went to work that day I packed a couple of bags and left. He found me two weeks later in Mississippi. He grabbed me and threw me in the car but on the drive back to California, he was quiet. He was the Nick from the very beginning of our relationship. He said he didn't know what he was thinking the past few years, cheating on me, hitting me. He said he would go to a therapist, we could go. I wanted to believe that he actually changed this time but the closer we got to Southaven, where we lived, the more scared I got. Our neighbors were outside when he pulled into the driveway. Nick told me to stay in the car and he would open the door for me. The little sliver of hope I still had disappeared because I knew why he wanted to open the door. He didn't want me to talk to them. After he grabbed the bags, he opened my door and said he would do the talking. They asked where I went because they hadn't seen me around, Nick said I went to visit my mom. They knew my mom was dead because I still went over to visit them after he told me not to. Before they could say anything else he grabbed my wrist and took me inside." You took a deep breath as your hands started to tremble.

Kayce moved closer to you and slid his arm around your waist. His other hand came back to yours.

You held onto it tightly and stared at your entwined fingers as memories of that night played through your head. "I've never seen him that angry. He did everything like he would before; yelling, hitting, choking. But, harder, longer. I was lying on the kitchen floor trying to catch my breath after he choked me and he...he grabbed a knife." Kayce inhaled harshly. "He made the cut on my face so if I ran away again it would be easy for him to find me. I could change my hair, wear hats, different clothes but everyone would remember the girl with a scar down her face." You could feel the rage emanating off of your boyfriend. "He made me clean up before he dragged me into the bedroom and...he..."

"He's dead. He's fucking dead." Kayce swore, knowing what happened next.

"After he said he would kill me if I ran away again, I didn't know what to do. If he found me after two weeks, I thought he would be able to find me anywhere. I did whatever he wanted because I was scared of him. I was miserable. I started thinking about e-ending it...me." Your voice was whisper quiet. Kayce gently pulled you onto his lap and leaned in, kissing your shoulder. You looked over and smiled at the sweet, caring man who was the opposite of your good-for-nothing ex.

"I was on the porch checking our mailbox one day when our neighbors came out to do the same thing. They saw me and invited me over for a glass of iced tea. I knew Nick wouldn't like it but they insisted so I did. While they were telling me about one of their recent trips my sweater slipped off my shoulder and they saw a bruise on my arm in the shape of a handprint. I told them Nick stopped me from falling down the stairs but I knew they didn't believe me. I tried to leave but they stopped me and begged me to leave him. I told them he wasn't as bad as they thought. By then they knew he was a cop and who his family was. They let me go, if I promised to visit them whenever Nick was at work. They were the only thing that put a real smile on my face. I loved spending time with them. Nine days before I was supposed to marry Nick I was at their house and they handed me an envelope. Inside was five thousand dollars and a fake ID and birth certificate. When James was a lawyer, there was a guy in his firm that had a case involving fake documents, he tracked him down and got him to make me some. They told me they had a bus ticket with my fake name on it that was leaving in forty-five minutes, and a suitcase full of clothes for me. I didn't want to go, I was scared Nick would find out they helped me. After he cut me he said if I ever run away again, he would kill anyone who helped me. But, they wouldn't take no for an answer. They had a wig for me to put on before I left so when he looked at the traffic cameras by the bus station he wouldn't know it was me. When they dropped me off they gave me the phone so he couldn't track my number. Before I got on the bus they gave me a hug and told me I was like the daughter they never had..." you swallowed before looking at him with tear-filled eyes. "If-if you don't want me to spend time with Tate anymore because of Nick, or you-"

"Stop." He cupped your face. "Nothing that that piece of shit did to you changes my mind." His perfect eyes pierced yours. "I love you, Letty."

"You-you don't have to say that because of what I told you."

"Baby, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. Your hair was blowing in the wind as you stood in front of the house with your suitcase. I knew then that you were it for me. You are the kindest, strongest, bravest, most beautiful woman I've ever met. I am the luckiest man in the world because you let me call you mine." His voice was filled with emotion. "I love you, Violet."

"Kayc," tears started to fall from your eyes.

"I'm not expecting you to say it back. We can move as slow as you want, as you need. I'm not going anywhere." His thumbs brush the tears off your cheeks. "Can I kiss you?"

You leaned in and pressed your lips against his, giving him your answer. Your hands slid over his shoulders and pulled him closer as the kiss intensified. Nick disappeared from your mind and For the first time in you didn't how long, you wanted more.

When you finally parted you were both out of breath. "Letty?" He could feel this kiss was different.

"I...I want to..."

"But?" He knew you were holding something back.

"What if we start and I can't?"

"If you want to try and you need to stop then we stop."

You chewed on your lower lip nervously.

"Baby, I'm not going to be mad. I told you that I'm not going anywhere. You are the only woman I want to be with. I'll do whatever you need me to and wait however long you need."

You nodded slowly. "Can we try?" Your voice was quiet.

"Yeah, baby." His hand slid across your cheek. "Can I go outside and grab more firewood first? It's starting to cool off in here, you're starting to get cold." His thumb ran across your cheek.

"Mhm." You stood up and he followed suit.

"I'll be right back." He gave your forehead a soft kiss before going outside.

In the meantime, you grabbed the blankets off the couch and made a cozy spot on the floor in front of the wood stove.

He came back in with an arm full of already chopped logs that were piled up against the side of the cabin. A smile pulled at his lips when he saw the makeshift bed on the floor.

"I'm pretty sure that's the most uncomfortable couch in the world." You giggled shyly.

He put a couple of logs on the fire and set the rest on the floor before walking over. One of his hands went to your waist while the other came up and rested along your jaw. "Are you sure you want to do this? If you're not ready, it's okay. I'm perfectly happy just holdin' you."

"I want to." You swallowed. "I want you, Kayce."

"I'm yours, Violet." He leaned in and kissed you.

After a few seconds, the need you felt for the kiss to develop into something more returned and your fingers started unbuttoning his shirt. His hands left you so you could slide his shirt down his arms. As it fell to the floor, you pulled his T-shirt off. He unzipped his jeans and added them to the pile while you untied the straps of your dress. It pooled around your feet and his eyes took you in.

"You are perfect."

Red crept across your cheeks while he closed the distance, one hand went to your cheek while the other went back to your waist. You shivered from the sudden cool touch.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," you giggled.

"Come here." He sank down onto the blanket and you sat down on the floor next to him. "Better?"

You nodded as you immediately start to warm up from the fire and the blanket that he pulled over the two of you. Your hand came up and slid across his jaw before pulling him in.

His hands went to your waist and held you close while he kissed you. Your mouth parted, your tongue slid across his as the kiss quickly became heated. He unhooked your bra before slowly lying you down. Your lips finally parted and he hovered above you. "Do you want to keep going?"

"Yes."

"We can stop anytime you want to, just say the word. Okay?"

"Okay."

He sat back so he could take his boxers off and grab a condom from his wallet while you pulled your underwear off. His eyes traveled up your naked body before he crawled back between your legs. You nodded as he looked down at you so he reached between you and positioned himself before slowly entering you. Your eyes automatically closed and you tensed up.

He immediately pulled out. "Letty, open your eyes. Look at me." You did and the second you saw his warm brown eyes, you relaxed. His hand slid into your hair. "Do you want me to stop? We can and-"

"No, don't stop. Please."

"Stay with me, baby." His eyes pierced yours as he entered you for the second time. "Right here."

You nodded, keeping your eyes on his. "Mmm." A small moan escaped as he filled you. He slowly pulled out and gently thrust into you again, all while keeping your eyes glued to each others. Your ex and all of the terrible things he did vanished from your mind. It was just you and your cowboy. Your hands slid into his wavy hair and pulled him down, your lips met his fiercely. He kissed you back while continuing to move inside you. One of his hands stayed embedded in your hair, the other slid around your lower back and held you close. That small shift had him hitting just the right spot over and over again.

"Kayce," your fingers dug into the back of his shoulders.

His hold on you tightened, molding you to his body as he continued thrusting.

"Mmm," you moaned as heat began growing rapidly in your core. Your breathing picked up and within seconds he took you over the edge. "Kayc!"

"Letty." He was right behind you groaning your name. His eyes held yours until you both came down from your highs. When your breathing started to return to normal, he leaned in and gave you a long kiss before lying down next to you, propping himself up on his elbow. "Are you okay?"

You looked up at him and smiled. "I'm okay. More than okay." He chuckled huskily as he tucked your hair behind your ear. "Really though, I am."

"Are you sure, baby?"

"Yes. It was just you and me. Everything else, the memories, they disappeared." Your hand came up and rested on his cheek. "You are an amazing man, Kayce Dutton. You're kind and sweet. You were beyond patient with me and when you found out about my past you didn't run away. You make me feel normal again. You make me feel safe." Your thumb ran across his skin. "I love you."

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. When you parted there were tears in your eyes. "Hey, talk to me."

"I just...I'm happy. After the past couple of years, I never thought I would be again. Then I came here and found you and Tate. Your family and everyone here have been amazing."

He wiped away a tear that slipped from your eye. "This is your home now, Letty. He is never going to hurt you again. I won't let him get anywhere near you."

"Promise?" You asked while memories of the horrible things he did played through your head.

Kayce could tell what you were thinking and pulled you closer. "I promise."

"Thank you."

"I know I've said it before but I would do anything for you. I love you." His lips met yours and you melted in his arms.

When you parted, you both lay there nestled together under the blanket, listening to the crackle of the fire. All of the cows on the ranch were marked with the Yellowstone brand, a Y, but this was the first time you had seen the same brand on Kayce's chest. Your fingers traced over the raised, scarred letter that covered most of his left pec. "Did it hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you do it?"

"I didn't, Dad did."

You quickly tilted your head back and looked at him with wide, watery eyes. The tone of his voice, you knew it wasn't because he asked his dad to do it. "Why?"

"Hey, shh." He smiled softly when he saw the tears in your eyes. "Come here." His arms tightened around you and pulled you close. After kissing you, he eased back onto the pillow. "I graduated a couple years before Tate's mom got pregnant. We met at a party and it was just a one-night stand. When she got pregnant, she came to the ranch because she heard about my family, the money. We found out that she got arrested regularly because of drinking. She didn't work and a lot of the money she did get from the tribe she spent on alcohol. She didn't want a kid and came out to say if I didn't either then she was going to get an abortion. But, if I did, she would keep it as long as we paid her. Dad said yes, as long as she didn't drink while she was pregnant. Dad even paid for an apartment for her to live in while she was pregnant because she couch surfed from place to place before. She didn't drink during the first four months but one day when Dad went to check in with her, he saw a couple of empty beer bottles. After that she did off and on until Tate was born. Thankfully, he was in perfect health. She didn't want anything to do with him and signed him over as soon as she could. That was the last we saw of her. She died a couple of months later. Her and the guy she was with were drinking and driving. They hit a tree." He took a deep breath before continuing. "It didn't really sink in that I was going to be a dad until the nurse came out to where Dad and I were waiting and handed him to me. He was so small. The first two weeks after we brought him home were rough. I was scared. I was still a kid, how was I supposed to take care of one? I didn't think I could, I didn't want to try...I panicked and joined the Navy. I could leave for training in a few days. Dad freaked out. He told me I wasn't going and had to stay and take care of my son. We argued, and when he realized I wasn't going to change my mind he did this. He thought that it would make me needing to stay here sink in. It didn't. I was angry at him, scared of my son...I left. That's when Dad hired Mrs. Sanders. While I was gone Jamie and Lee kept in touch; calling, letters. They sent pictures. I finally came to my senses when Tate turned six. I quit the Navy and came home. I-I know Im a horrible dad-"

"What? Kayce, no." You propped yourself up and turned his face towards yours. "You are an amazing dad. Tate loves you."

"I shouldn't have left. I was selfish and stupid and-"

"And, I know that you would take it back if you could."

"In a heartbeat. I would have stayed, I should have stayed."

"But, you've made up for it. You and Tate have an amazing relationship. He looks up to you. You're the foreman of the largest ranch in Montana, he wants to be just like you when he grows up." He nodded slowly. You knew what was going through his head. "What you told me doesn't change how I feel about you. You are a great dad, a hard worker, and the most amazing man I could have ever hoped for. I love you."

"I love you too, Letty." Your lips met for a searing kiss. "I don't know how I got lucky enough to find you."

"Technically, I think I found you."

A playful smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth and he chuckled. "I think you're right."

"I'm right? Wanna say that again?" You laughed when he squeezed your sides.

"You're right, this time. Don't get used to hearing it though." You giggled before starting to sit up.

"No." He whined.

"I'll be right back." You reached for his shirt that was lying close by and slipped it on, doing up a few buttons, before getting up and going to the kitchen. When you turned around with what you went to get, Kayce was watching you with a smile on his face. "What?"

"You look good in my shirt."

"Yeah?" You straddled his lap, after setting two bottles of water and the pizza box on the floor close by.

"Yeah." His hands went to your waist and pulled you close. "Stay here with me tonight? We don't have to do anything. I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms."

"What if I want to do that again?"

"We can do whatever you wanna do, baby." He smirked and it made you bite your lower lip. That smirk is going to drive me crazy...in a good way.

**************

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