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notakugelblitz · 3 months ago

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DELORES PART 1 • Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

something sweet to soothe your anger dearest brellies 🥰 takes place during season 4 episode 1, no warning all safe. enjoy !

Y/N had worked with Five at the Commission. She was with him on the day of JFK's assassination, and when he mentioned the possibility of escaping the company, she thought, why not? The Handler still hadn't given her the promotion she'd been promised 15 years ago, and the health insurance was worthless by then ...

Y/N followed Five through three apocalypses, becoming a teenager again. At least she no longer had the beginnings of arthritis, which she was more grateful for than her colleague. The Hargreeves quickly took Y/N under their wing, appreciating her a lot, especially since she had the gift of shutting Five up.

Y/N and Five became very good friends. Once the umbrella Academy lost their powers in this new timeline, Y/N chose to open a bookstore, while Five became a CIA agent. They met from time to time, enjoying each other's company over a black coffee on a terrace. In six years, nothing ambiguous had happened between them. Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted it to or not—it was a strange feeling. But now, with her new life started, she had time. If Five was interested, he would make a move; if not, so be it. But this was the calm before the storm...

Five entered the secret meeting set in an apartment with a classy, dimly lit atmosphere. The place was spacious, hosting about thirty people. Five smoothed his mustache, grabbed a glass of champagne from the buffet, and scanned the room. Just as he thought he recognized Lila, another young woman caught his attention. She was leaning against the balcony, her face hidden as she stood with her back to him. She had long, straight auburn hair, styled with a yellow beret. She was wearing a white shirt with black polka dots, neatly tucked into her pencil skirt.

Five felt a drop of sweat trickle down his temple and took a deep breath before joining her. He also leaned on the balcony, just like she did, barely daring to look at her.

"Beautiful night, isn’t it?" Y/N murmured, a simple smile on her lips.

She didn’t meet his gaze either, which slightly irritated Five. He finally turned his head and recognized Y/N.

"What the hell are you doing ..."

The words escaped his mouth when he noticed the name on her nametag : Delores. Five almost choked on his champagne.

"Yeah, the champagne is disgusting, I agree. But the hors d'oeuvres are delicious though. You should try them!" "What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re part of this ridiculous support group ..."

Y/N burst into laughter, shaking her head.

"Oh no, no ... I came with "Nancy" so Diego wouldn’t ask too many questions. But this wig is seriously itching. It's awful." Y/N explained, amused, scratching her scalp.

She then turned her attention to Five and looked at his nametag.

"Jerome? That doesn’t suit you very well. I wonder where you got that name..." "It wasn’t my choice. And where did you get yours?" he retorted, frowning.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden cold and somewhat aggressive tone.

"I like that name." Y/N simply said. "And that shirt—do you like it too? It’s hideous." "I found it in a thrift shop—it seemed nice... hey! What’s gotten into you?" Y/N finally exclaimed. "Bullshit." "Five what the hell!"

Y/N seemed sincere. She had no idea what her cover name meant to him. After all these years, he had never told her about Delores. Instead of apologizing, he downed his glass of champagne.

"So, those hors d'oeuvres?" Five asked.

Y/N laughed lightly, understanding it was his awkward way of apologizing. Just as she was about to praise the treats, Jean and Gene appeared, announcing the start of the meeting.

What followed was a very eventful evening. The Umbrella Effect, interacting with Jean and Gene, dining with Lila and Five, Viktor's kidnapping... it felt like the old days! And throughout it all, Five kept giving Y/N odd looks. Why had fate embedded the love of his life so clearly in his friend and colleague? Five didn’t believe in coincidences; he never had.

Y/N had noticed those supposedly discreet glances, which intrigued her a lot. Especially since she could feel her cheeks flush like a 16-year-old girl.

Despite everything, the Hargreeves ended their evening at an Asian restaurant to debrief. Having retrieved the Marigold thanks to Sy, most of them decided not to take it. This surprised Y/N a lot. Powers... that was the dream, wasn’t it?

While Ben was in the bathroom, Y/N leaned toward Five.

"Imagine what you could do for the CIA with your teleportation..." she whispered. "Shut up, Y/N." Five murmured. "No, but seriously! I don’t know what I’d give to be special like you guys were! If it were up to me, I’d drink that jar dry!"

Five chuckled sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"If you think this is one of those stupid Marvel movies, think again. Having powers comes with great responsibilities, sure—the responsibility to control them and not cause an apocalypse." "Killjoy..." Y/N sighed. "And for your information..." Five hesitated before continuing in a lower voice, leaning a bit closer to her. "You don’t need that to be... special."

Coming from his mouth, it sounded weird. Reaching her ears, it sounded weird. Y/N sat up straight and silently thanked some higher force when Ben arrived with a tray of eight shots. While everyone found an excuse to leave, Ben convinced them to drink. "For old time's sake," he said.

Everyone gave in, and when Y/N realized she didn’t have a glass, she felt disheartened.

"Can’t I celebrate our reunion?" she asked. "You're not part of the family." Ben snapped. "Wow, Ben, that’s rude!" Luther exclaimed. "Y/N is more family than you ever were." Five groaned, pointing a threatening finger at him. "No, it's fine, let it go, Five." Y/N sighed, though Five’s words had touched her.

She stepped aside, letting them toast. Just as everyone raised their glasses to their lips, Klaus nudged Y/N and handed her his glass.

"OnJanuary 15th, it'll be 3 years that I am sober. Tonight’s not the night I’ll mess that up, and certainly not for old time's sake." Klaus whispered. "I can’t accept that ..." Y/N politely refused. "Oh, come on, down it or I’ll tell everyone you slept with Five at Luther’s wedding."

Y/N gasped, grabbed the glass, drank it down in record time, and handed it back to Klaus. No one seemed to notice the trick, and that was just as well.

Y/N still had that awful taste in her mouth. Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk that glass. After all, Klaus was lying. Wasn’t he? It was true she had a total blackout that night, but... her and Five? No... right?

Once outside, everyone said their goodbyes. As Y/N tried to figure out where Klaus had gone so she could question him, a car pulled up next to her. The passenger window rolled down, and she bent down to see the driver. It was Five.

"I’ll give you a ride." "No, it’s okay, I’m not far..." "That wasn’t a question," Five said, leaning over to open the passenger door.

Y/N sighed but couldn’t help smiling. She got in, buckled up, and Five started the car.

"Be honest with me, Y/N." he said seriously, focusing on the road. "Mmh?" "Why Delores? And why that damn polka dot shirt?"

Y/N widened her eyes.

"You're still hung up on that!" she exclaimed. "I’ve changed since then..." "Stop it right now, Y/N. This isn’t funny," he growled. "Look, Five, I don’t understand! You’re completely crazy!" "Why Delores?" "I don’t know, okay?" she yelled back. "I don’t know."

She repeated the sentence silently to herself.

"The name just came to me, and the shirt was the cheapest... I swear, Five, I’ve never been more honest with you..."

Five finally looked at her and realized she was telling the truth. When they arrived at the bookstore, he parked on the side of the road.

"I’m sorry, Y/N... it’s just that... I knew a Delores a long time ago, and... she looked just like you."

Y/N, surprised, met his gaze and tilted her head to the side.

"I never thought the famous Five Hargreeves had a romance," she breathed.

Five nodded , locking eyes with her sparkling ones. He had always loved that color, though he would never admit it. He looked away, eyes fixed on the steering-wheel. Fortunately Y/N didn't know Delores was a mannequin. Five kept silent, thinking about this damn coincidence and its probable meaning.

Y/N didn’t know what to say so she got out of the car, feeling unsettled. As she headed towards the bookstore, she suddenly stopped, turned around, and walked back to the car, leaning against the window on Five’s side.

“Be honest with me, Five.” she said seriously.

Five chuckled softly, amused by this ongoing joke, and nodded, signaling her to continue.

“What happened at Luther’s wedding?” she asked suddenly.

Five frowned. Why was she asking about that now?

“They got married,” he said simply. “Haha, very funny. No, seriously, between us... did something happen?”

Five discreetly swallowed and started the car.

“You should go home, it’s getting late.”

Y/N groaned and walked around the front of the car again so that he couldn't leave, suddenly opening the passenger door and sitting down.

“What are you doing…?” “You agreed to be honest with me. And you’re not. So I won’t move until…” “Fine.” "Oh, that was quick."

Five immediately started driving and continued in silence.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” “No.” “So, is this a kidnapping?” “Call it whatever you want. You learned how to jump out of a moving car at the Commission, so if your ass is still in that seat, it means you don’t really want to leave.”

Point for him. The silence was fine at the beginning, but it grew heavier and heavier minutes after minutes. Y/N was relieved when she recognized the streets as they were arriving at the parking lot of Five's apartment. He turned off the car and slumped further into his seat. Y/N could tell he was hiding something.

“So. Did we sleep together that night?” she asked bluntly.

Five’s eyes widened.

“What! Who told you that nonsense?” he exclaimed with an amused tone. “Klaus… he…” “You know Klaus always exaggerates, Y/N…”

Y/N lowered her eyes, embarrassed for having believed it so easily. Five noticed her distress and sighed. He rummaged through an inner pocket of his jacket, hesitating before pulling out a Polaroid photo. He handed it to Y/N nonchalantly. She looked at him, then at the photo, which she took with apprehension. It was taken at Luther’s wedding. Y/N and Five were on stage. A microphone stand separated them, only a few centimeters from each other's face. They looked completely drunk, which explained why they were singing so close and why Y/N had no memory of it.

“Just imagine eyes like moon rise, a voice like music, lips like wine.” Five muttered, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

Y/N looked up at him. Those were the lyrics to a love song by Frank Sinatra, yet it sounded oddly different coming from his mouth.

“Please, tell me…” she whispered.

Five sighed, knowing full well he had reached a point of no return.

“We overdid it on the alcohol that night. And with the apocalypse looming... it makes you do things you wouldn’t normally be capable of.”

He paused, but Y/N smiled, encouraging him to continue.

“You seemed different that night. You had no filter. You never had one when it came to annoying me, but for saying nice things, well... and you were really beautiful. And without thinking, I grabbed that mic and sang that stupid Sinatra song. And you looked at me with those eyes. They sparkled like… like the Kugelblitz. Almost more. And you joined me, and we made quite the duo, I must say. I can't fucking remember the name of the song as we were only babbling incomprehensible lyrics.”

Y/N was speechless.

“So…” “No sex. Pure fluff, even though it’s a disgusting word to say.”

Y/N chuckled.

“And you kissed me,” Five finally said, emotionless.

Everything seemed so unreal, yet he looked sincere.

“Why didn’t you tell me for six years?” she asked, shocked. “I… I chickened out. You didn’t remember, so it gave you the chance to start fresh.”

Suddenly, Y/N slapped him across the face, the sound of the slap echoing through Dallas. Five didn't blink, feeling like it was deserved somehow.

“You’re such an idiot.” “I know.”

They remained silent for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. If any member of the Umbrella Academy had the power to read minds, they would’ve run away, given the turmoil that stirred within them.

Y/N thought back to all those moments spent with Five, and of course, they had a different flavor than those shared with an actual colleague. Despite their constant teasing, Five had always been there for Y/N, and vice versa. They understood each other, given their age and experience. Everything suddenly became clear.

And then, in perfect synchronization, they kissed passionately, Y/N placing her hands on Five’s cheeks while he firmly gripped her waist. It was a fiery kiss, making up for all the lost time due to misplaced pride. Out of breath, Y/N pulled back slightly to look at him, a smirk on her lips.

“What? Don’t make me regret what just happened…” Five chuckled. “Firsy things first, secretly keeping a picture of me is weird. Secondly, the song by Sinatra ... It is named Dolores. Just saying…” Y/N laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear that had fallen over his bright eyes.

"Shut it." he groaned, pecking your lips to make you silent. But then , he approaches his lips to your ear, whispering.

“It seems that no matter the timeline, I’m destined to have a Delores getting in my way.”

Y/N burst out laughing, and Five couldn’t help but smile sincerely. It felt good to come out of his shell, especially for Y/N. Five invited Y/N to spend the night at his place. This sudden happiness seemed surreal, yet it was very real. The idea of a normal life together seemed so pleasant. If only they knew ...

here it is, i really hope you liked it ! sorry if you spotted some mistakes, English isn’t my first language.

would you be interested in a part 2 now that Y/N swallowed up a shot of marigold ? just sayin’ … 😏

#five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #five x y/n #five hargreeves fanfic #five x reader #the umbrella academy season 4 #five hargreeves season 4 #delores #Spotify

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pedge-stuff · 1 year ago

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it's not that kind of cold shower (pedro x gn/m!reader)

a/n: POLL RESULTS ARE IN... and this was the result! would y'all still be interested in a "pedro takes care of sick reader" fic, too?

(this story specifically comes at the request of two anons, who requested bathing/showering while sick, and emetophobia. I don't have much experience on the latter, so I apologize if it's incorrect??)

you knowwwwww it had to be the Dieter pic, tho.

as always, same vague universe as “marked.” drop a line if you have a sug.

summary: 2am on the bathroom floor.

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You wake up alone.

This doesn’t register, at first. You roll over, running a hand over your face as you blearily open your eyes. You’ve gotten used to having a bed to yourself, with Pedro’s current production schedule. (Although the dogs always end up migrating from the foot of the bed in the middle of the night.)

Except, the bed beside you is still a little warm. Pedro is home— has been home, for two days now. He took a car straight from the Disney lot to LAX, and was on a flight to JFK about three hours after the voice work for Mando wrapped. Something about “needing to see his boy,” which he swore was Edgar, with a wink and a kiss blown over Facetime.

The room is dark, still, and quiet. But as you sit up, a sliver of light becomes noticeable under the crack of the bathroom door. You blink the last dredges of sleep away, waiting for him to finish his middle-of-the-night pee. It’s nice, having him here. Waking up beside him always kinda feels like a luxury; you savor it while you have it. His next job— some stupid commercial for a game on an app? He explained it twice but neither of you really understand it— doesn’t start until the end of the month. If you fall asleep before he finishes peeing, you’ll miss an opportunity to fall asleep wrapped around him. These are sacred in their scarcity, at the moment.

Except, the toilet never flushes. After a few long moments, you swing your legs over the side of the bed.

A quiet knock yields nothing. Frowning, you gently push the door open.

Knees to his chest, head propped backwards on the edge of the tub, Pedro is lying on the bathroom floor. His eyes are squeezed shut against the fluorescents.

“Baby,” you whisper, “Pedge, what’s going on?” You kneel down, rubbing a gentle thumb over his kneecap. He’s just in a t-shirt and boxers, the cold tile leaving his exposed calves littered with pinprick goosebumps.

Without opening his eyes, Pedro grimaces. “I dunno,” he says quietly, in a rasp that makes you wince. “Woke up feeling like this.”

“Nauseous?”

The muscle of his jaw twitches. “Hate throwing up.”

“I know, love, I’m sorry.” You bring your hand upwards, carding a few fingers through his hair before palming his forehead. Alarmed, you brush it with the back of your hand, as well. “You’re really burning up, Pedro, Jesus.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows reflexively, but says nothing. Then swallows again.

You reach for the closed lid of the toilet, before returning to your feet. “If you need to throw up, throw up. You’ll feel better afterwards.”

Busying yourself with filling a glass by the sink, you purposefully don’t look, attempting to give him some privacy. But he doesn’t move. Barely lifts his head up, when you offer the water. A sheen of sweat glistens on hollow of his throat, and the collar of his sleep shirt (yours, actually— some soft old 5k thing he always reaches for) is damp.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Thought I escaped the curse this time.”

The curse, of course, being your nickname for the way his body absolutely freaks out at the panic of having downtime. Without fail, every time he gets a break, he’s down with something— at best a cold, at worst, what was eventually dubbed the “shittiest Christmas present ever” last year. It’s like his immune system decides it’s on vacation, as well. You’ve started planning around it, blocking off the first few days he’s home just in case. After two days, though, it really seemed like he was in the clear.

Your train of thought is interrupted by the sounds of a grown man gagging. All you can do is kneel behind him, rubbing a hand softly down the length of his back. The muscles flex and tremble beneath as Pedro coughs and coughs. Any part of you that might have been grossed out, is eclipsed by concern. You can feel the heat of the fever through the thin cotton of his t-shirt.

When he finishes, you flush without looking while he reassumes his position against the tub. “M’sorry,” he says, after a sip of water. “Go back to sleep, I’m good.”

“Don’t apologize, and don’t be dumb.” You press a kiss to his shoulder before resting your cheek there for a moment. “You gonna puke again?”

His jaw clenches again. “I don’t think so?”

Abruptly, Pedro sits up, and you tense in anticipation of another round of heaving. Instead he reaches back, grabbing the collar of his shirt to tug it over his head. Lacking his usual gusto, he tosses it towards the hamper in the opposite corner of the bathroom, and misses spectacularly.

“I won’t tell the Lakers,” you tease, “if they call to offer a job.”

Pedro huffs a quiet laugh. “Snitches get stitches.”

“Real tough threat from the man on the bathroom floor.”

He pouts. “You have to nice to me, I puked. I could be on my death bed.”

You press another kiss to his shoulder; the skin is clammy. “America’s Peepaw Pedro Pascal Found Dead at 47, In Bathroom Like Elvis But Way Less Cool. Turn to A7 for story.”

“Now who sounds old! Who reads celebrity death announcements in tabloid magazines anymore?” The joking puts you at ease, a little. He is less green in the gills than he was when you found him, although the tops of his cheeks are still flushed with fever. It seems like he has to convince himself to reopen his eyes after every blink; his eyelids rest at half-mast.

“Mm. You got me there, I guess. Do you feel okay enough to go back to bed?”

Pedro runs a hand across his chest. “Think I might need to rinse off first.”

He braces himself on the edge of the tub, and you reach out a hand to steady him as he slowly rises to his feet. If his knees audibly crack, well, you didn’t hear anything.

Pulling off your own sleep shirt (his, also stolen; some old Fleetwood Mac shirt that hangs to your fingertips), you tuck it into the towel rack, and move to turn the shower on.

“What are you doing?” The invalid has paused changing with his boxers halfway down, in a way that would be so fucking funny if it wasn’t equally, achingly endearing.

“You are leaning on the counter to stand up right now. I’m not gonna let you slip and fall to your actual death in the shower.”

He looks down at his own hand in betrayal as you adjust the water to an acceptable lukewarm— not so cold as to be unbearable, but cool enough that it might take the edge off the fever. Pedro frowns mournfully as you step out of your own boxers.

You roll your eyes. “We will do this again when you can enjoy it.”

The shower is plenty big enough for the two of you, and you position yourself behind him, legs splayed, arms wrapped around his waist. Cheek smushed between his shoulder blades, close enough to let the warmth of his skin deflect the chill of the water.

It’s not really a shower for washing. Moreso a “stand under the water until you feel human again” type of rinse. But you twist anyways for the body wash Pedro likes, when you are sure he isn’t about to faint into the glass door. He sighs as you rub the gel across his shoulders, reaching around to wash the sweat from his chest and stomach. It does something to you, having him here— within arm’s reach, pliable, soft with sleep. Comfortable beside you.

You stay there awhile, letting the water wash over you, until you feel him sway, ever so slightly.

“Love,” you say softly.

“Mm?”

“Are you falling asleep?”

Pedro reaches blindly for the handle, twisting until the spray subsides. You place a kiss to the wet center of his back. Revel, one last time, in the feeling of his body against yours, before you hand him his towel.

There is a coordinated, albeit wearily measured, return to bed. Pedro foregoes a new shirt, choosing instead to fall face-first on top of the rumpled duvet. You track down some Tylenol PM, with fingers crossed that maybe this is just a 12-hour thing. But, just in case, the bathroom waste basket is also placed beside the bed.

Finally, you slip beneath the comforter, maneuvering your patient until he is at least partially covered as well. And then, in turn, allow him to manipulate you into precisely the position he wants to be held: your face tucks into the damp, curling hair at the base of his neck, arm wrapped snug around the middle of his torso, legs entangled.

In the morning, you’ll deal with the next hurdle. Hopefully not the next hurl. But for now, you sleep.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader

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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

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Star Spangled Seresin

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Political situations. Unrequited love, one night stand, military and political inaccuracies. Smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 1: (I was) Enchanted to Meet You:

After you had left the apartment, Jaycee decided to take some time to herself and get some writing done for work. She was halfway through her article when her phone chimed. It was a text from Jake.

She took a deep breath. She shouldn't have given Jake her phone number. Jaycee didn't do relationships. Not after what happened. But Jake was sweet and made her cum three times and then fixed her breakfast the next day. So, in a moment of weakness, she gave him her number.

She checked his text. It was a message checking to make sure she had made it home okay. After confirming, she was fine, he asked her about her day.

Feeling bold, she snapped a picture of herself with a messy bun, glasses, leggings, and her oversized Georgetown sweatshirt with her laptop. Jake chuckled when he received the image before texting her back a selfie of him in a US Navy tank at the gym.

Jaycee blushed before typing back, "I figured you'd be the kind of guy who works out shirtless 😉." Jake quickly replied, "Normally, I do, but my back had a run-in with some nails last night 😏."

Jaycee's face turned red. And before she could fire off a response, Jake texted her again, "When can I see you again?"

Jaycee sighed. She wasn't a second date or first date, whichever this was kind of girl, but Jake did seem sincere, a nice meal, and some good sex did sound appealing. Of course, she'd have to keep it a secret from you, but that shouldn't be too hard. So, before she could talk herself out of it, she texted him back that she was free on Monday.

Moments later, a smiling selfie of Jake graced her screen with the message, "Fantasic. Meet me at Marcel's at 7:30. The reservation will be under Seresin, party of two."

Jaycee collapsed against the throw pillows of the couch. Was she really about to do this?

The rest of the afternoon was spent texting with Jake. She learned all kinds of things about him, from where he grew up, to his time in the Naval Academy, to his career in the Navy, and some about his family. Jaycee shared more details about herself than she had in a long time. She was about to order some takeout and text you to see what you wanted when she got a message saying you'd be out late and wouldn't be home until after midnight. Something with the campaign.

Jaycee rolled her eyes at how dedicated you were to your job before placing her order.

She'd just settled down to enjoy her orange chicken when a FaceTime from Jake lit up her phone.

"Um, hi?" She said as she answered it. "Hey." Jake said smoothly. "Sorry, I probably should have texted to see if you were busy, but I really wanted to see you again." Jake said.

"It's fine. I just got some takeout and was about to watch some true crime." She told him. "Oh, true crime? Are you more unsolved mysteries or serial killers?" Jake asks. "Unsolved mysteries for sure. And I love a good conspiracy." Jaycee replies as she grabs her chopsticks.

"Conspiracy theories are fun. Once Bradley and I get elected, I can't wait to learn all the secrets they keep locked in the Library of Congress. After the inauguration, I'm heading straight for the JFK file." Jake says without missing a beat. "Why JFK? Is it because he was assassinated in Texas and you're from there, or is it because he was a Navy man, too?" She asks him with a mouthful of noodles.

"Both." Jake confirms

Jaycee snorts out a laugh. "You know that secret section of the Library or Congress is a myth, right?" She tells him. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see. Maybe you and I can look for it together after the election." Jake tells her with a bright smile.

"Yeah, maybe," Jaycee shifts uncomfortably.

"So, other than run for office and fly planes, what do you do for fun?" She asks, changing the subject.

"I like to hike. If I am back home, I love riding horses on my family ranch. A pickup game of football or basketball is fun every now and then. I'm a great bowler, but even better at darts and pool, and I'm a sucker for a good musical or theater performance. My sisters were in drama and dance in school, so I always went to their shows and then started seeing a few shows on my own." Jake tells her.

"Oh, so you have culture?" Jaycee teases him. "What's your favorite show?" She asks him. "Hamilton, obviously." Jaycee can't help but laugh. "Basic." She teases him. "But it could be worse. I figured you would have said something like Oklahoma." She says.

"No self-respecting Texan would ever say their favorite show is Oklahoma." Jake says in a serious tone.

"So what about you, other than grilling potential vice presidents, what do you do for fun?" Jake asks her.

"Um, I like hiking too, I've never rode a horse, I like yoga, and reading, and mini-golf, and kickboxing. And I, too, enjoy the theater."

"So, what's your favorite show then?" Jake asks her. She can tell he's waiting to tease her.

"Wicked." She admits sheepishly. "Oh, and I'm the basic one." Jake rolls his eyes dramatically. "Hey it's a great story about fighting for what you think is right and denying social norms!" Jaycee defends herself.

"If you say so. I've never seen it." Jake shrugs. "What!" Jaycee shrieks. "You said you have sisters. How have you never seen it?!" She asks him. "I tried once. The flying monkeys creeped me out." He admits.

"Okay, okay. I get that." She tells him. "So, I had a really good time with you last night." Jake tells her.

"So did I. Three really good times." Jaycee admits. "I was talking about at the bar. Like, don't get me wrong, the other stuff was great too, but I enjoyed getting to know you." He tells her.

Before Jaycee can answer, she hears keys in the door, and your voice calling out to her. "Jaycee, I'm home!"

"Oh, shit, Jake, I've gotta go!" Jaycee says before quickly ending the call.

"Hey! I thought you said you wouldn't be back until after midnight?" Jaycee asks you. "Yeah, Bradley and I finished up early. Who was that on the phone?" You ask her.

"Um, no one." Jaycee says quickly. "Wait—was that Mr. Tongue Tricks? You gave him your number? Where you guys having phone sex?" You ask her.

"No, no, and ew, no." Jaycee says as she cleans up her mess in the living room. "Okay, whatever you say." You sing-song back to her.

"Hey, do have plans Monday night? Candice and Talia are going to be in town and want to get drinks." You tell her.

"Actually, I do have dinner plans. Sorry." Jaycee tells you. "No worries." You respond before heading to your room.

All of Jaycee's Sunday is spent texting Jake. The two of them talk about everything under the sun. He makes her feel good— happy even, something she haven't felt from a relationship in quite a long time. But then—

Jake had brought up the topic of dumb things he did as a teen and told her about the scar on his ass from a bull. Jaycce laughed at him. Then, he texted, saying how he loved how she had turned her surgical scar into something beautiful. She asked him what he meant. And then he replied, "The one on your side, that's the quill tattoo. Did you have your appendix or something removed?"

Her heart sank, and she dropped your phone. The scar he was talking about wasn't from surgery. It was from the worst moment of her life. She quickly got up and went to the mirror in her room. Jaycce lifted her shirt and traced the jagged lines that ran across her right side.

You had convinced her to get the markings tattooed as a way to reclaim them, but even though she had tried to make them beautiful, they still carried ugly memories.

Flashes of that night flooded her brain, the yelling, the glass, the blood —so much blood. She shook the thoughts from her mind.

Jaycee quickly changed the subject, but suddenly, her heart wasn't in it anymore. Who was she kidding? She couldn't date Jake, she had too much baggage for a guy like him.

On Monday, she barely texted him. And that evening, just as you were able to leave to meet up with your friends, she came out of her room dressed to go out. "Hey, wait up!" She called to you. "You're coming? I thought you had plans?" You ask her skeptically.

"They got canceled. Let's go get drinks!" Jaycee cheered as the two of you walked out the door.

At 7:10, Jaycee, you, and your college friends got a table at the bar right across from Marcel's

At 7:15, she watched Jake enter with a bundle of flowers.

At 7:25, he texted her that he was there.

At 7:30, he asked if she was on her way, and if she was running late, that was fine.

At 7:40, he tried calling her, and she immediately sent it to voicemail.

At 7:45, she stopped checking her texts.

At 8 p.m., she watched a deflated Jake Seresin leave the restaurant. Jaycee finished her drink and excused herself to the restroom.

Once she was alone, she turned off her phone and allowed a single tear to slip down her cheek.

"This is for the best." She told herself in the mirror." But she knew she was lying to herself.

Okay! Here we go yall! Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @princess76179 @bradshawseresinbabe @sunlightmurdock @lewmagoo @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @mj-l4 @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @dakotakazansky @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis @bradshawsbaby

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ereardon · 1 year ago

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Golden Hour || Ch. 1

A Bob Floyd & Bradley Bradshaw AU [Hart of Dixie inspired]

Synopsis: Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Pairing: Bob Floyd x OC; Bradley Bradshaw x OC

Tropes: Love triangle, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, illusion to cheating

Chapter summary: Dr. Olive James arrives in Willow, Georgia, and Dr. Bob Floyd immediately has his feathers ruffled; Olive meets Phoenix, the neighborhood bar owner, who offers her a place to live; Bradley and Olive crash into each other together, literally.

WC: 3.5K

Masterlist here; next chapter here

Willow, Georgia. It looked exactly like you thought it would. You had spent approximately forty minutes Googling the town before booking a one-way ticket from JFK.

Everyone looked straight out of a Normal Rockwell painting. Couples walking hand-in-hand down the flower-lined street. Kids playing in the town square near a white painted gazebo. Neighbors waving at each other as they crossed paths on the sidewalk. A shop owner sticking his head out the door to chat with a customer.

You shook your head and inched the rental car down a tree-lined road off the main circle in town, double checking the GPS to make sure it was correct as you stopped the car in front of a small house on a suburban street.

This was the a doctor’s office?

The only thing that made you think it could be was the small metal sign hanging, lopsided, on a pole near the front of the house.

Dr. Robert Floyd Sr. and Dr. Bob Floyd.

You turned off the car, sitting back for a moment with the air conditioning blasting your face, closing your eyes. What were you doing here? You should be on Madison Avenue, drinking an overpriced iced latte and heading to your job at Mount Sinai.

Except that wasn’t your job anymore. Your job was inside, past the impossibly charming front door of the two-story house that apparently doubled as a physician’s office in what you could only describe as a hamlet, not a town, not a city. Not even a village. A hamlet. In the middle of Georgia. A state that, up until two hours ago, you had never stepped foot in.

A knock on the glass window to your left made you jump, eyes flying open wide. A woman with a large grin stood, pearly white teeth on full display, only a foot or so from your door.

Cautiously, you rolled down the window.

“Well hello there,” she said, too chipper for the morning. Too chipper for any time of day, in your opinion. You liked your people sulky. Salty. like a good New York bagel. LIke a good New Yorker. “I’m Macy Goodwell. Are you lost?”

You frowned. “I don’t think so? Is this the doctor’s office?”

She smiled. “Yes, it is! Are you here to see Dr. Floyd?”

You shook your head. “I’m not a patient.”

Macy cocked her head to the side. “Are you a tax collector?”

You laughed. “What? God, no. I’m a doctor.”

Her face relaxed. “Oh! You’re the new doctor. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

They had? You had accepted Dr. Robert Floyd’s job offer less than twenty-four hours before. How could people already know who you were?

She scooped her hand through the air in a welcoming manner. “Well let me show you inside.”

You rolled up the window, stepping out of the car, ankle wobbling in your stiletto on the uneven pathway in front of the house.

Macy eyed your shoes. “Bit impractical, no?”

“I wore heels on the subway,” you told her. “I think I can handle the sidewalk.”

She tutted quickly, so quickly you almost missed it. “Bless your heart,” Macy said as you followed her up the stone steps toward the house. “You really can walk in those.”

Hiking your Chanel purse higher on your shoulder, you shook out your hair, walking through the door. It was an older house, probably from the twenties, with dark wood trim running along the ceiling edges and wooden paneling in the foyer. The door led straight into a hallway that was lined with chairs, a desk at the far end. It was early, not even ten, and the desk was empty. In fact, the entire house was quiet.

Macy looked at you. “Dr. Floyd is probably already in, but they don’t open until eleven.”

“Eleven?” You tried to hide your shock. By eleven in New York you would have done rounds on patients, assisted in at least two surgeries and done your post-op charting. There was probably even time in there to pop out for an overpriced Sweetgreen salad, or a croissant at Sant Ambroeus if you really hauled ass.

She nodded. “At least, on Thursdays. Come on, let’s check in the offices. Dr. Floyd?”

Macy knocked on one solid wooden door. Inside, you heard rustling, before the door squeaked open.

A tall blond with glasses loomed in the doorway. He wore a blue button up shirt with a white doctor’s coat over it, a pair of tan trousers and cowboy boots hidden below the hem of his pants. When he looked at you, he scowled, and you felt his gaze searing over your skin and dark hair. It made you want to turn away from the intensity, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze and smile.

“Dr. Olive James,” you said, holding out one hand, bangles bashing together as you waited with the hand outstretched. “You can call me Olive or Liv.”

After a beat, he reached out and enveloped your hand in his. His fingers were long and beautiful, like a piano player’s. “Dr. Bob Floyd,” he said.

You nodded, your hand still trapped in his. Finally, Bob let his gaze slip from yours and you let your hand fall.

Macy looked between the two of you and blushed. The air was thick with tension. “I’ll be on my way then.” She nodded at you. “Dr. James. Dr. Floyd.” There was a way that she said Bob’s name. A sort of reverie. Macy scampered away and you heard the front door shut behind her, leaving you and Bob alone. He made no move to show you around.

You realized you had never even asked Macy what she did or who she was. Perhaps that was the charm of a small town. It didn't actually matter. Everyone was a friend or a neighbor or a relative. Everyone felt entitled to interaction.

You cleared your throat. “Is, um, is Dr. Floyd Sr. around?”

“My father is quite elderly,” Bob said and his voice was deep, gruff, but velvety. “He’s retired.”

You nodded. “That’s why I’m here. He hired me as his replacement.”

Bob squinted. “And what exactly are your credentials?”

Anger bubbled inside of you. He doubted your credentials? This small-town doctor who probably graduated bottom of his class was asking about your credentials. You straightened your shoulders. “Columbia medical. I did my surgical residency at Mount Sinai where I was chief resident, and I just completed a fellowship in obstetrics.”

Bob brushed past you without a response. You frowned, trailing after him as he made his way into the back behind the desk to a small kitchen at the back of the house. He poured himself a cup of coffee and then turned around. “Why the hell would you want to come here?” he demanded. “You’re a surgeon.”

You didn’t know how to tell him that New York was dead to you. Perhaps not the whole city, but there was no going back. Not when Peter had come home three nights before and ended a five-year relationship and engagement with five words.

I slept with someone else.

There was no going back. Your apartment, your perfect Upper East Side apartment, the one you had searched high and low for three years before finding, was getting packed up as you spoke. The walls you had painstakingly painted were being stripped of all of the artwork and photographs that dotted it so carefully. The kitchen where you had spent countless hours trying to learn how to properly saute green beans and how to roast a whole chicken that would make Ina Garten proud, was standing empty like a skeleton on a gurney. The bedroom that you and Peter had shared was just a shell that had once housed whimpers and soft declarations of love.

How could you tell a stranger that the largest city in the US was still too small to go back to? So you had done the only rational thing. You had fled. Somewhere far. Somewhere small where you could hide in plain sight. Somewhere he would never come looking for you. Not that you expected him to come searching. Peter Mulligan was the head of fetal surgery at Mount Sinai. He also, not so coincidentally, was your former boss. He had better things to do than to trudge through backwater Georgia looking for a woman he had once loved, but no longer did.

“I’m still a board certified surgeon,” you replied tartly. “I’m just going to be a internal medicine physician, too.” For now, you added in your head.

Bob frowned, taking a sip of black coffee. “He didn’t tell me he hired you until yesterday,” he said.

“He only hired me yesterday.”

“You’re telling me you packed up and left your life in less than a day?”

Your ears burned. You needed to change the subject. “Who thought opening at eleven was a good idea?” you asked. “How do you even conduct business?”

Bob set his cup down. “You might be the other doctor here,” he said, “but this is my practice. I know how it should be run. I know these people. They’re my friends, they’re family.”

You rolled your eyes. “What, like Olive Garden? When you’re here, you’re family.”

Bob stepped closer. You could smell him. Musky, with a light hint of mint. He was attractive, despite the fact that he hadn’t stopped scowling the entire time you’d been in the same room as him. He towered over you, even if that wasn’t his intention. “This is a small town, Dr. James,” he whispered. “It’ll do you good to remember that.”

“You can call me Olive.”

“Dr. James,” he repeated. “Molly will be in shortly. She’s the receptionist. She’ll get things set up for you.”

He turned to leave and you shot out one hand, grabbing his wrist. Bob turned to you with wide eyes. “Sorry,” you murmured, dropping his hand. “I just, do you know a good place to get a coffee around here? While I wait for Molly, that is.”

“Breakers Cafe,” he said. “Only restaurant in town.”

“You’re kidding.”

Bob shook his head, wandering back toward his office. “Like I said, Dr. James. Small town.” The sound of his wooden door shutting firmly signaled that the conversation was done.

You looked around the empty office and sighed, pulling out your phone and typing Breakers Cafe into Google maps.

Half a mile. That was ten city blocks North and South. You could do that without the car. You’d covered more ground in a pair of Jimmy Choos on an average day.

***

You regretted the decision to walk to the cafe the moment you turned down the street.

There was something about the sickly Georgia heat that made your hair puff, your skin slick with sweat, your eyes burn from the sun.

By the time you showed up at Breakers, there was sweat on your hairline and your ankles hurt. New York walking was different. Smooth sidewalks, an aggressive pace set by strangers with their elbows seemingly dug into your sides. Here, in Willow, there was no one to keep pace with. Just tangles of vines and scraggly sidewalks and overgrown lawns that dipped over the cracked brick. No yellow cabs and black Suburbans vying for lane space, honking so loud your ears might burst. Here, in Willow, it was just the sound of your heartbeat raging on in your ears as you trudged toward salvation in the form of a two-star restaurant.

Breakers Cafe, for being the only restaurant and bar in town, wasn’t much to write home about. Not that you’d be writing anyone in New York. They would all side with Peter, for God knows what reason.

A one-story structure out on the edge of town, directly across the square from the medical office, Breakers had another tilted sign out front, in Carolina blue writing. There were a dozen cars parked in the parking lot, and a slew of outdoor tables that sat empty, sweating in the sun.

You took a deep breath and pushed in the door, relishing in the feeling of air conditioning wafting over your sun-drenched skin.

By the time your eyes adjusted to the darkness after spending fifteen minutes in direct sun, you realized all eyes were on you. Literally every table with patrons had stopped talking, their eyes turned toward where you stood at the door.

“Can I help you, darlin’?” A woman, maybe thirty, around your age, stood behind the wide wooden bar on your left, wearing a pair of overalls and a thin tank top, her dark hair pulled back into a bun, face makeup free but stunning nonetheless. “You look lost.”

You stepped further inside, letting the door shut behind you, drawn to her. “I, uh, I was hoping to get a cup of coffee. Dr. Floyd said this is the spot.”

Her face lit up. “Oh you know Bob? Sure, honey, come on in. Have a seat wherever.”

You nodded, choosing a table off to one side, sitting down on the metal chair and pulling a sticky, laminated menu toward you. Everything was either deep fried or smothered in butter. No wonder they needed another doctor in town.

“What can I get you?” The brunette stood next to your table, head cocked to the side. Out from behind the bar she was even more stunning. Tall and lithe with a perfect complexion.

You smiled. “Do you make a cappuccino?”

She held back a laugh. “We have coffee and tea.”

You sighed. “Coffee. Let me guess, no oat milk?”

She smiled. “It’s half and half or cream. Where are you from?”

“New York.”

She nodded. “That explains it. Let me guess, you’re the new lady doctor we’ve been hearing about.”

“Guess so.”

She hesitated. “I’m Natasha, but people call me Phoenix.”

You held out a hand. “Olive James.”

Phoenix grinned. “Dr. James. Good to meet you. I’ll be right back with that coffee. Black, I assume?”

You nodded and Phoenix disappeared. There was a rustic charm about Breakers. From the worn wooden floor to the walls peppered with posters and framed photos of locals. It had absolutely nothing in common with The Breakers in Palm Beach, and you stuck out as bad here as someone from Willow would in Palm Beach.

Phoenix slid a cup of coffee over to you and took a seat at the table. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” You took a sip. It was hot and dark, a little bitter, but overall smooth. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

She eyed you. “How long you planning on staying?”

You were too embarrassed to admit you hadn’t thought that through. Instead, you shrugged. “Depends on a few things.”

“Well, are you renting or buying?” she asked.

Fuck. Another thing you hadn’t really thought much about. “I, uh, I’m going to stay at a hotel for a few days. Get my bearings.”

“Willow Inn,” she said. “Only place in town worth staying at.”

“Good tip, thanks,” you replied.

Phoenix leaned back against the chair, crossing her long legs. “Listen, I’m staying at my sister’s place and there’s a guest house out back if you’re interested. It needs some work. But it’s better than staying at the Inn, at least on your pocketbook.” Her gaze lingered on your Chanel flap bag on the table. “Or maybe your salary will allow it.”

You let out a breath. “Really? You don’t even know me. I could be a serial killer.”

“About time this town had something exciting happen.”

The sharp bark of a laugh that exited your mouth surprised you both.

“Here.” She pulled out a scrap of paper and jotted down a few lines. “My number and address. I’m off at six, so come by after? If Dr. Rob vouched for you at his practice, that’s as good as golden with me.”

You slipped the paper into your bag. “I’ll see you tonight after six.”

Phoenix stood up, ripping off a piece of paper from her pad and dropping it on the table. The receipt. She smiled. “Welcome to Willow.”

***

Back at the office, you stepped through the door to find the waiting room full. A cheerful blonde at the front desk greeted you. “Hi!” she said and her voice hit a sucrose register that nearly made your ears bleed. “Do you have an appointment?”

You shook your head. “No. Let me guess, you’re Molly.”

“Sure am.” She grinned. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“I’m Dr. Olive James.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Oh, Dr. James. Yes, Dr. Floyd told me to expect you. Give me five minutes and I can show you around.”

Your eyes scanned the room. “I think the tour can wait. Pretty packed in here, I can take whoever is next.”

She laughed, a thin hiccup really. You squinted at her. “Oh, honey,” Molly drawled. She couldn’t be more than twenty-four years old. “These patients aren’t here to see you. They’re here to see Dr. Floyd.”

“Does it matter?” you asked. Looking around, you raised your voice. “Hi, everyone. I know you’re all here to see Dr. Floyd, but I’m Dr. James and I would be happy to help treat you today.”

Molly opened her mouth, but a woman sitting near the window beat her to it. “We ain’t here to see you, honey. Dr. Floyd is our doctor.” There was a collective round of nods and hums.

You frowned. “I understand, but like I said, I am also a doctor, and I would love to help.”

“You can help by not making a scene in my waiting room.” Bob entered the room through a side door. He had taken off his white jacket, and his shirt was one button looser than it had been this morning. He smiled at the woman who had just spoken up. “Mrs. Whitaker. How are you, ma’am?”

She stood, patting his arm. “Just fine, dear, just fine.” She paused in the door frame and looked back at you. “She’s trying to steal your patients, Dr. Floyd.”

His face softened and he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, ma’am. Head on back, I’ll be right in.”

Mrs. Whitaker nodded, and Bob lingered in the doorway. He looked up at you.

“A word?”

You followed him down the hall, curving into the front office. It had a series of dark built-in bookshelves lining one wall, a large wooden desk in the middle. Through a pocket door you spotted an empty exam room.

“I know my father hired you,” Bob said quietly, his voice low and slow, practically rumbling from inside of him. You were struck with the sudden urge to reach out and trace over his Adam’s apple as it bobbed in his thick neck. “But you are an outsider. Don’t go stepping on my toes. You won’t like where it leads you.”

Before you could respond, he was gone.

You rushed out the door the two of you had slipped through, but instead of meeting empty air in the hallway, you crashed against something hard and soft at the same time. It wasn’t until the two of you were stumbling to the ground that you realized it was another person, their arms scrambling for purchase on you as the two of you tumbled to the floor.

“Shit!” Your voice echoed through the hallway as the definitive sounds of smacking limbs hit the wood and you grunted, as did your partner-in-crime.

You sat up, mentally calculating if there were any injuries. Everything seemed fine. As you made your way to your knees, you heard a voice over your shoulder. “You alright, ma’am?”

The voice was decidedly sexy. That’s the first thing you noticed. The second was the warm set of chocolatey eyes that met yours as you whipped around, hair getting caught in your mouth.

“Here.” He held out one impossibly large hand, visible veins running up and down his forearm, and helped you gently to your feet.

You smoothed your hands over your hair, hoping the fall hadn’t pushed everything too out of order. “Thank you,” you murmured.

He smiled, bright white teeth. There was a small set of scars along his left jawline against tanned skin, soft brown hair curling up at the edges. He went on for miles and miles and you found yourself looking up, despite your four inch heels. “I’m Bradley Bradshaw,” he said confidently. “Don’t think we’ve met before.”

Your fingers were still resting in his hand. “Dr. Olive James.”

Bradley’s eyes widened slightly. Your reputation might have preceded you. “Nice to meet you, Doctor.”

“Call me Olive,” you said.

“Olive,” he replied and your name had never sounded sweeter than it did in that moment. Down the hall, in the waiting room, someone coughed and it pulled you from your daze. Your hand slipped from Bradley’s and his eyes flickered down to where your hand landed at your side before trailing up, back to meet yours. “I, um, I have to go speak with Bob about something,” Bradley said. “But I’ll see you soon I hope?”

You grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure you will.”

Bradley bent down and collected his folder that had fallen on the ground when the two of you collided. A single piece of paper stuck out the top. You caught two words.

Partnership agreement.

Bradley righted himself and smiled. At the end of the hall, Bob Floyd opened his door and ushered Mrs. Whittaker into the waiting area. He caught sight of Bradley and waved one hand. “Bradshaw,” he called out. “I’ve got a minute between patients.”

Bradley looked at you once more, tipping his head slightly. “Duty calls. See you soon, Olive.”

You watched as Bradley sauntered over to where Bob was standing, a frown plastered on his face as he looked at you. Bradley gazed over as well, his smile a complete contrast to Bob’s displeasure. A strange sentiment gathered in the bottom of your stomach.

Willow was turning out to be a more complex place than you had originally thought.

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countrymusiclover · 10 months ago

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10 - Erik and JFK

Part 11

Battle of Heart and Mind

Tag list - ask to be added (in my ask box please) @aintinacage @hiraethrhapsody @mostlymarvelgirl @importantgalaxyrunaway

Leaving from the place I was moments ago I heard the three make voices now in the office downstairs. Entering the room Hank stood by the desk, Logan remained near the doorway and Charles was laying on the couch drink in his hands. “We need your help, Charles.”

“Need his help how exactly?” I came and sat down beside him on the couch seeing him finish what content he had in that glass.

Logan turns his head to me. “Bring the X-Men together. Stop Raven from killing Trask which starts the war.”

“So you’re saying they took her power and what…weaponized it?” Charles got up from the couch pouring himself another drink.

Logan nodded. “Yup.”

Charles plopped down in his desk chair downing some alcohol. His demeanor and physical appearance wasn't what I recalled it to be. Hank and I had tried our best to pull him out of the dark but he's just fallen over the edge now. "Now what exactly does Raven and Addi have to do with all this...saying that I...that we choose to believe what you are saying is true."

"In the beginning, the sentinels were just targeting mutants. Then they began targeting everyone. They began identifying the genetics in non-mutants...who would eventually have mutant children and grandchildren. Many of the humans tried to help us but it was a slaughter. Leaving only the worst of humanity in charge. I've been in a lot of wars but I've never seen anything like this. And it all starts with her and Raven." Logan began explaining looking between the three of us where I could see his whole body stiften at the horrible memories he must have been having.

“Raven won't listen to me.” Charles chuckled dryly looking over in my direction thinking back on Cuba. “Her heart and soul belong to someone else now.”

Logan put a hand on his hip throwing his other hand away from his side. “I know. That's why we're gonna need Magneto too.”

“Erik, you know where he is right?” Hank asked the man from the future who said nothing.

Charles got up from the chair stomping around the table and out the door. “He's where he belongs!”

“Charles!” I called his name forcing myself to my feet regaining my balance for a moment.

Logan tilted his head. “What the hell happened to him? Am I going crazy or are you two together or something?”

“We were…until the day I found out I was pregnant.” Looking over my shoulder I explained softly. “The war in Vietnam destroyed everything. Teachers and students were drafted. Hank attempted to help with his legs but…I'm gonna go find him. Charles!”

Moving towards his bedroom he had the door only cracked open slightly. Pushing it opened he lifted his head up sniffing through tears. “Charles, can we talk?”

“What do you still see in that man, Addi?” He sniffed through tears, wiping them away with his sleeve.

Coming to sit on the edge of the bed with the former telepath professor I laid my head on his shoulder. “Because of what he did the day JFK was assassinated. The part of the story you choose to forget.”

“He's not right for you or the baby, Addi.” Charles weakly responded, reaching down, intertwining my hand in his. “I just don't want you to get hurt. Even if you never truly love me the way I love you. I still want to keep you safe.”

Touching his face with my freehand he leans into my palm. “I know how you feel about him after what happened in Cuba. But this means helping Raven…and apparently saving humanity and mutants from an all out war. If you won’t do it for Logan’s tall tail then do it for Raven…do it for me.”

“I'll do it for the both of you.” He whispered, laying his head against my chest and I kissed his forehead just holding him for a moment. The relationship that Charles and I had was comfortable for sure. He was there for me throughout the pregnancy and with my mother. I did love him but it would never compare to my feelings for Erik.

November 22, 1963 - Dallas

Erik and I made our way through the abandoned building that was on the same street that the president was supposed to be driving down since he was visiting for something. Erik peaked his head out the window with me leaning against the wall beside where he stood. “I got word that the assassin is somewhere in this building with a gun. I can feel it somewhere.”

“Do you want me to go looking for it?” I questioned him, figuring that I should help him in some way.

He shook his head no, focusing his attention back towards the busy street. The president’s car came around the corner following the secret service cars that were behind it and in front of them. A gunfire sound blasted through the air where Erik raised his hand about to stop the bullet but the door downstairs got busted open. “Search the entire building!”

“Erik.” I called his name while watching the commotion from the streets below us. The bullet that had been fired hit the president in the back of the head and his wife reached back trying to help but he was already dead. Everyone in the cars and on the streets surrounded the car and I knew the men in the building must be service men.

He moved away from the wall grabbing me by my shoulders with a serious look in his eyes. “You have to go now before they find me up here.”

“Are you crazy? I am not leaving you here to be captured. How could you even consider such a thing?” I spat at him wearing a dark orange coat with some black jeans and combat boots. I had put my hair in a braid.

He was wearing a green turtleneck underneath a brown coat. His gaze remained on mine and I felt him pressing his fingers into my shoulder blades. “Addison, this isn’t a joke. Those men are looking for the man who just killed the president and they most likely will blame it on me if they can’t find the guy who actually fired the shot.”

“So we run and get out of here before they do. We stick together like we promised.” I snapped at him not wanting to leave him here like this.

He threw his head back, sighing in frustration where we heard a bunch of boots coming up the stairs meaning we were running out of time if we were going to run like I wanted him to. “We don’t have time to discuss this, Addi. I can’t let them capture you too.”

“So what am I supposed to do while you’re stuck in the pentagon…besides coming to visit you if that’s even possible.” I asked, gripping the material of his jacket almost closing the gap completely between us.

Erik pressed his forehead against mine and we just stood holding onto each other till he whispered. “You go see your mother or go find Charles. I need you to promise me.”

“There’s voices upstairs!” One of the men downstairs said to his fellow men and they started to be heard coming up onto the floor we were on.

Erik turned his head back, pouring his attention down to me. “Promise me, Addi.”

“I promise….and I love you.” I blurted out having the elevator door opened and the men started running towards us.

Erik grabbed my arm and we ran towards the old staircase that we had used to get up here. He holds my face in his hands, kissing me quickly. “Don’t get caught while I’m gone, Addison.” He rounded the corner holding his hands up in surrender while I peaked my head around the corner watching the officers arrest him on the spot.

“I'll help you get her.” Charles and I had left his bedroom seeing Logan was still talking with Hank. “But not for any of your future shits but for her.”

Logan nodded. “Fair enough.”

“Tell you this, you don't know Erik, that man is a monster, a murder. You think you can convince Raven to change, to come home.” Charles gave him a half smile. “But what makes you think you can change him?”

Logan admitted. “Because you and Erik sent me back here together.”

“The room they're holding him in was built during the...2nd World war when there was a shortage of steel. So the foundation is pure concrete and sand, no metal.” Hank had unrolled a map onto the large table in the library that revealed the inside layout of the pentagon from what he could find.

Charles rested his hands on the table. “And he's being held a 100 floors beneath the most heavily guarded building on the planet.”

Logan raised a brow. “Why is he in there?”

“What, he forgot to mention?” Charles couldn’t contain his laughter while I just stood back biting my tongue.

Hank said. “Uh JFK.”

Logan finally figured it out. “He killed.”

“What else would explain the bullet miraculously curving through the air.” Charles shakes his head glancing over at me silently for a moment knowing how I felt about what he had just said. “Erik's always had a way with guns.”

Leaning my back against the wall I rested one hand on my growing stomach looking between the three men in the room. “Never thought I'd say this but let's go break into the Pentagon.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year ago

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Got You: Cyrus Lupo x Reader

Tagging: @darqchilddaydreamz @words-and-seeds @infinity-mars @malindacath @tkappi @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond

Cyrus doesn’t expect to see you waiting for him at JFK, the same airport the two of you said goodbye in four years ago. It gives him a sense of déjà vu, because you were wearing the same expression back then too. A mix of sadness and propriety. You don’t like to wear your emotions on your sleeve, he knows that he’s to blame for that.

“Hey.” He says quietly before his eyes flicker to Detective Green who stands alongside of you.

He doesn’t know what you’ve told your partner, so he hangs back because things like this have the tendency to get awkward and he doesn’t want that for you. He’s done enough damage over the years.

It doesn’t matter that he wants to embrace you, that he wants to bury his face in the curve of your throat and take comfort in your presence. He lost the right to that when he took up his posting with the Intelligence Division.

You let Green take the lead while you buy the three of you coffee. The truth is you don’t know what to say because the Tommy that you knew wouldn’t have gotten involved with hookers and dope, he was a family man through and through. You see the blow land, the disbelief in his features. Cyrus looks to you for confirmation, and you incline your head just enough for him to read it as a nod.

“That’s not my brother.” He reiterates, shaking his head. “He wouldn’t cheat on his wife; he wasn’t a weak person. He beat cancer five years ago.”

“When was the last time you talked to him?” You ask him, your fingertips toying with a sachet of sugar. You don’t take it, but you need something to do with your hands because this situation feels like it’s devolving. The more information you give, the more you can see Cyrus withdrawing into himself.

“I don’t know.” He hesitates before taking a sip from his coffee. “He called me a few weeks ago but I was seeing to a situation, I couldn’t ring back.”

There’s guilt there, you can sense it under the surface. He looks at you and then looks away, swallowing hard. You suspect that he did the same thing to Tommy that he did to you four years ago. One phone call when he got to Morocco and then it was like he disappeared off the face of the earth.

“If it wasn’t a paid date or a girlfriend who else would have wanted your brother dead?” Ed asks him and Cyrus purses his lips together into a grim line. You can see the cogs turning in his brain, that steely glint in his eyes as the mood starts to shift.

“Hey.” You say tapping the back of his hand with your fingertip to draw his attention to you. He tilts his head; his jaw clenching and you fix him with a fierce look of your own. “Do not even think about it. They won’t let you work on this case Cyrus.”

He says nothing, he simply picks up his cup of coffee stares straight ahead. You already know that your words have fallen on deaf ears. Nothing is going to stop Cyrus Lupo finding out what happened to his brother.

***

Cyrus causes problems from the outset. It starts with using Green’s name at the M.E’s office to confirm his theory regarding Tommy’s cancer and continues to him challenging Van Buren regarding the classification of the death. He practically begs the Lieutenant to work the case.

When you hear the details of what he’s been up to abroad, you feel your heart stutter in your chest because you can see his self-destructive tendencies playing out in an international arena.

Lupo broke some big cases in some unfriendly parts of the world, and he did it with no back up, no warrants, no weapon, Van Buren tells you. Your gaze strays to your ex-lover on the other side of the glass and part of you wants to strangle him. The police officer in you wants to commend him. He’s still managing to cause conflict in you, even after all this time.

His persistence and stubbornness pays off. With the additional death it’s decided he’ll work that part of the case alongside the two of you. Green resents it and you pinch the bridge of your nose because already you’re getting a migraine from the potential ramifications of having Cyrus back in your life.

When the videos show up, you see the moment that he starts to fall apart. The bullpen is empty, there’s just the two of you seated at the same desk watching Driscol’s suicide as Nolan interviews him. When the cursor hovers over the next file, you place your hand on his arm to stop him. He looks at you, and you already know that no matter what you say, he’s going to watch Tommy’s video.

You watch it with him. Tommy as he sits there, hooked up to the machine, the moment he presses the button, the second the light dies in his eyes. You tilt your head towards Cyrus as the devastation hits him, his shoulders start to quake, and he sucks in deep shaky breath and then another trying to compose himself.

“Come here.” You say softly and he complies burying his face into the hollow of your shoulder as he clutches onto you like a lifeline.

The first sob vibrates through your entire body, you can feel his anguish as his hands grip your shirt the emotion forcing it’s way through his system. There’s no protocol for grief, it’s violent and gut wrenching, it tears at your insides, eviscerating you and leaves your guts spilling out all over the floor. Your fingertips run through his curls, a soothing motion from a time he used to wake up beside in the throes of a nightmare, tears staining his cheeks and his heart pounding in his chest.

“I’ve got you.” You whisper as you cradle him close. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

Love Lupo? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#cyrus lupo x you #cyrus lupo x reader #detective cyrus lupo #cyrus lupo #lupo x reader #lupo #law & order #law and order

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hannahssimblr · 9 months ago

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Chapter Eleven

The birthday boy, Elias, and his boyfriend Leon live in an apartment block in the Charlottenburg district of the city. It belongs to Leon’s father, whose job has something to do with the automotive industry, and is the type of wealthy man who prefers to have his properties blurred out in Google Maps. Jude assured us that their place is massive. “Like, unreal, insane, massive”, and offers to travel there with us, only our dinner runs late and we need time to rush back to the hostel and change our clothes, so we agree to meet at the penthouse instead.

The apartment, thankfully, has a lift, and it has even more than that. It has a concierge that glances up from his neat little desk as we push through the heavy doors and with a small sigh says “Du bist wegen der Geburtstagsfeier hier.”

“Um. Ja.” I say, and he waves us towards the elevator. “Zehnter stock.”

“Danke schon!” We shuffle inside it and hit the button for the tenth floor. My stomach seems to lurch more than usual as I stand there and wait to be carried all the way up the building. I smooth my hands over the front of my trousers and take a deep breath, somewhat surprised to find it shuddering. I’m anxious. Something feels charged tonight, but it must be the energy in the air from the looming thunderstorm. Huge, black clouds started rolling in over us as soon as we alighted the train, and now, outside of this apartment block, the great, fat raindrops that narrowly missed us have begun to hammer the pavement.

Our plastic heels clack across the tile as we make our way towards the huge double doors to knock. There is muffled music coming from within, and it suddenly amplifies when the door swings open, and a man dressed as Neil Armstrong stands there. “Hallo.” He says, and stands aside to let us into the apartment, flooded by the sounds of dreamy, psychedelic rock.

I try not to let my jaw hit the floor as I look around us. It really is massive. Unreal, insane, and whatever other adjectives one could use in an attempt describe a place that is beyond description. It is a marriage of concrete and glass and steel, with floor to ceiling windows that provide a perfect view of the glittering city beneath us. A sunken living room with leather furniture is decorated by the beautiful people who sit in it, and the television, although off, is the biggest one I’ve ever seen. There are paintings, and books, and plants, and stunning decor and everything, down to the door handles and the throws on the couches is like a piece of art. I barely even look at the people around me, I just stare, and stare at the pendant lights and the rugs and the bespoke kitchen table, littered with bottles of wine and loose cups that should certainly all be sitting on coasters and wonder how I’ll be expected to do anything else that evening but stare at this place and its ostentatious display of wealth.

“Come on.” Claire tugs at my arm. “Let’s go say hello to the guys.” She leads me into the kitchen, when Jonas and Jude are sitting on a pair of barstools. They stand up when they spot us, and I can’t help but grin. “Hey, we made it.”

“You did.” Says Jude. “Priscilla Presley?”

“Yes!”

He makes me spin around. “You’ve done a great job, my God. Your hair.”

“I’m trying not to think about how I’m going to get it to sit back down straight again after this. I tortured it with a comb.” I take a moment to take in his costume, which to my immense disappointment is a 60s style brown suit. That’s it. “Who are you meant to be?”

“JFK.” He smirks. “Is it not obvious?”

“I can’t believe this. You could just be some guy!”

“Well I’m not just some guy, I’m JFK.”

“Well, groovy, I suppose.” I say, throwing up a peace sign in the spirit of it all, and he chuckles. “I’m pretty sure Priscilla didn’t say things like ‘groovy’.”

“Fine, it’s not groovy, then.”

“Yeah that sounds more like her.” We turn to our friends, in conversation with one another and I do a double take when I realise who Jonas is dressed as. “Charles Manson?” I splutter, and he looks at me with amusement and says “Yes, didn’t I do a good job?”

“A great job.” I agree, “Only it’s a bit awkward, seeing as Claire is dressed as Sharon Tate.” He looks at her and bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, I didn’t know who you were supposed to be! This is terrible!”

She curtseys for him. “Only because people tell me that I look like her. It’s not very obvious, I suppose. She really did dress quite normally.” We make them pose together for at least a dozen photographs on Claire’s new polaroid camera, and then Jude and I grin for Claire when she turns it on us, and Jude puts his arm around me while we pull the ugliest faces we can. Then he pretends to kiss my cheek, lips hovering just a few tantalising centimetres from my cheek and I try my best to act like it doesn’t phase me.

After he swivels around to grab a pair of beers from the counter for us, I ask him “Where’s Jackie O?” He peers around us. “I don’t think anybody came as her, which, honestly, now feels like a bit of a waste. It’s a pity that you and I didn’t think of collaborating or something. You could have been my first lady.”

“Or you could have collaborated with me and been my 60’s Elvis, which would have been way more interesting than your dusty old suit.” I say, but he doesn’t seem to have been listening. Instead his eyes are somewhere over my head. I glance behind me to see Astrid enter the kitchen, and her presence in this space makes my skin prickle, like she’s instantly sucked all of the energy out of the room. The last time I saw her her hair was cascading down to the small of her back in perfect, white blonde waves, and now it’s gone. Lopped off into the shortest of short pixie cuts imaginable. For a brief moment I wonder if it’s a wig to suit her Twiggy costume, but as she gets closer to us I realise that it isn’t, it couldn’t be. It’s her real hair. She’s really cut it all off, displaying a drastically different, sharper, more severe and angular look than before. When her light blue eyes meet mine, I swear she almost rolls them.

“Hello.” I say sheepishly. “Your costume is nice.”

Her expression doesn’t budge. “Can I speak with Jude, please?”

I heat up with shame and embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry.” I say. Maybe she saw us taking those photos. Maybe she heard what I said about Elvis. Unable to meet her eyes, I excuse myself to go wandering around the party, somewhere, anywhere away from her boyfriend, who I certainly shouldn’t have been retroactively planning a couples costume with. What was I thinking? But he’s so confusing, sometimes I don’t know where his boundaries are.

There’s a nice group of pretty girls in the lounge who switch to english as soon as they realise I can’t understand them, and I sit and talk with them for a while, learning all of the gossip about Leon’s rich dad, and what he allegedly does with all of his big heaping mounds of cash. They say that Leon takes photographs of models in his studio upstairs for work, while Elias, five years younger and still in college, studies painting and has a dedicated studio in one of the rooms too. I’m curious about it, and vow to sneak up there later to see if I can get a look at it.

On the whole, people here are very friendly and inviting, and after talking to the nice girls in the lounge I dance to some psychedelic rock with another group of people, whose goofy moves make me laugh so much that I think I might throw up. Everyone is cool, but everyone is kind to me in a way that makes me think that they believe I am cool too, and none of them has even thought to question it. I like this place, I like the version of me that these people are meeting tonight, and think about how if I could erase all of my history, and everybody’s memory of who I used to be, I’d probably be this cool, laidback girl all of the time.

“It’s so interesting that you’re an illustrator.” The American girl dressed as Cher says as she spins me around on the floor to Season of the Witch. “I should follow you on Instagram. Do you share your work on there?”

“Yes!” I say, and explain to her about how I’m doing my first mural, and how I’ve done window art and cards for a while now. It’s all on my page, and when she nods along with interest I really believe that she cares, she wants to know, and she isn’t just pretending to. As soon as I walk away to get another drink I get a notification that she’s followed me. When I enter the kitchen to find Claire I spot her giggling with Jonas. He says something to her that makes her snort and thump him in the arm, and I kind of feel like I shouldn’t be witnessing them. If they’re flirting with each other, I’m not sure I want to deal with it now. The concept of her having eyes for anybody but Shane is depressing to me. In the corner of the room Jude and Astrid are still talking, but neither of them looks particularly pleased about it. I find myself thinking about what Jen said about her, and how she’s never been any fun, and as I watch them for a brief moment I consider whether Jude is any fun around her either. They look far too intense for that, huddled like that with drooping shoulders and miserable expressions like they’re gathering for a friend’s untimely death rather than his fabulous birthday party. I just take another beer and wander away.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 3 #tw: alcohol

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nancypullen · 1 month ago

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This Time Tomorrow...

I'll be slogging through airport security. But shortly after that I'll be flying through the sky in a chair (doesn't that sound magical?) and eventually landing in Paris.

We'll leave Baltimore around 5pm, connect at JFK, and fly overnight into beautiful Paris. Not going to lie, that first day will be rough. It will be noonish in France when we land. Once we get through passport control and claim our luggage we're catching a 3pm train to Strasbourg. The train ride is about an hour and 45 minutes. Once we arrive in Strasbourg our AirBnB is about a 4 minute walk from the train station...if you're not a 61-year-old zombie. So we'll be arriving at our lodging around 5 o'clock. I promise you that I'll be finished with the day by then. Maybe, just maybe, this will be the trip where I sleep like a baby on the plane and arrive refreshed. There's always a chance, right? But I'm betting on pure exhaustion by the time we unlock the door to our little French abode. As excited as I am about this trip, getting that day out of the way is the first hurdle. So we depart on the evening of the 7th, and the 8th will just be arrival and sleep. Then the adventure begins. I'll take you along to enchanting Alsatian villages and whatever else we discover along the way. BUT...before any of that happens I'm puttering around the house, making sure everything is ready for the cat sitter and for our return. I need to mention that after 42 years of being the only one who did any of that, Mr. Pullen has decided that he will actively participate in all of that fun. He's been tidying, laying in kitty supplies, etc. I don't know what to do with myself when half my chore list is already checked off. This is fun. I've had time to even clean up garden areas for fall (even though it's 80 degrees, yuck!). Remember that German Pink tomato plant that gave me an ulcer this summer? I babied the heck out of that thing and it bloomed like crazy but never produced fruit. I finally just completely ignored it, and now it has eight beautiful tomatoes on it.

Of course. Maybe they'll be perfect in two weeks when we're home, maybe the whole plant will be dead. I waited all summer and now I don't care anymore. Stupid plant. Probably should have waited to take the photo until after I pulled that big ol' weed. Whatever.

Oh! Before I forget, I received an email asking how the clay ghosts turned out that I made in early September (I think?). Eh, mixed results. The candy corn ghost is okay, looks fine with a little battery-powered votive underneath. He's sitting out with some other Halloween decor, doing his job.

The little ghost that I decided to dress in a patchwork quilt is another story. The quilt squares were just okay, but I could live with it, but then I ruined the whole dang thing because I painted his eyes too close together. He has issues.

I kept him in my craft room because I felt bad for doing that to him. We're friends now.

In other news, I was clearing photos out of my phone (100 flower pictures...why??) because I anticipate taking loads of photos on this trip. I came across some fun snaps of birthday gifts...

look at these beautiful sterling silver Scottish thistle earrings, purchased with an Etsy gift card.

I love them! A nod to my heritage, but also just pretty.

Then there was this picture of a luggage tag that I'm tickled with and, yes, I'm just that boring.

It's heavy duty acrylic, and on a metal loop, so super durable - not likely to be torn off, and it's SO CUTE. I covered my phone number because I don't want any calls from weirdos. Another Etsy purchase.

With that same Etsy gift card I found mosaic supplies that I plan to experiment with this winter (I'm excited!) and even this adorable glass tumbler that makes me smile every morning when I drink my protein shake.

And wait until you see this duo!

Not only is that a treasure of a travel journal with perfect prompts...

...but that little pink case is a TINY PHOTO PRINTER!

I've got an app on my phone, so I can select a photo and send it to the little printer with one touch. It prints a picture of excellent quality, and I can peel the back off and stick it right into my travel journal! Holy cow! These were all birthday gifts from people that I love, so they're already special - but man, do they know me well or what? I'm still wallowing around in the birthday love and I've been 61 for 11 days already. I even received flowers. Isn't it always the loveliest surprise when the doorbell rings and there are flowers on the other side? They arrived before my birthday and at the end of the first week some of the most delicate blooms were fading. I always just start plucking out the dying blooms and shrink the bouquet until I have a single stem and some greenery left. I just snapped this - the bouquet is down to about half its original size, and I fear I'll have to say goodbye to it. I may reduce it to just a few flowers and leave a pretty bouquet for the cat sitter. I can't toss them.

When I receive flowers I always try to place them where I'll enjoy them/see them the most. Often I'll move them room to room. These started out on the dining room table, and moved to my craft room on the days I spent hours in there. I love fresh flowers in the house.

So I've rambled from tomatoes to bag tags and have probably bored you stiff. Take heart, I'll soon have beautiful photos to share from fairytale villages. The weather forecast concerns me - the temps look fantastic, but there are a handful of days where we may see rain. I don't want a repeat of my Irish hair.

I don't care about the 8th, that's mostly a travel day. I'm hoping that those other drizzly days clear off in a hurry.

There's not a thing I can do about the weather, so I'm not going to worry about it. Brace yourself, France.

Alrighty kids, I'm outta' here. I need to check my list and make sure I have everything ready before we make our escape. You won't hear from me before the 9th, unless I can't sleep at all on the 8th - then you may get a posting from the wee hours. Until then, sending you loads of love. Stay safe, stay well. Adieu! Au revoir! XOXO, Nancy P.S. I have discovered that our Paris AirBnB at the end of the trip is in the 7th arrondissement, the same as Ina Garten's apartment! I may have found out that her building is on Boulevard Raspail, right across from a fabulous fresh market. Stalker? Who, me? Hey, I just want to pose in front of her building, I don't think she's even there. I did download her autobiography, Be Ready When the Luck Happens, so she's already traveling with me.

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justice4billy · 10 months ago

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You're the worst-Part ten

Happy New Year you lovely lot! Sorry for the delay, I have had technical issues whilst writing this chapter so had to post it today rather than yesterday. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings; smut, mutual pining and angst

Billy x Fem reader/ enemies to lovers

December 31st 1991

New years eve came around quicker than Camille had expected. She had managed to get her allocated flight on the twenty-eighth and made it back home. Billy had been true to his word, he hadn't been around Mariah's house since that awkward morning they had shared, and Mariah had been busy taking down Christmas decorations and spring cleaning so hadn't been out of the house much. It appeared that Billy was either avoiding her, or he had gotten someone else to mess around with. She had replayed the phone call and wondered who the female voice was, but after a while she figured it was pointless since she wouldn't get an answer.

She was back in the harsh cold of New York, glad to be home and back to familiar territory. However, a part of her really missed having someone to talk too and coming back to an empty apartment had only emphasized just how lonely she felt.

That's why she was practically bouncing when she met up with Mariah and Danny at JFK airport, on the morning of New years Eve. Her grin was wide as she threw her arms around her best friend, the two girls falling into animated chatter as they hailed a taxi back to her apartment. A plan set in motion for the night ahead, they would have some drinks and get ready at hers and then try to get into a bar.

"Girl, you look amazing" Mariah had squealed handing her a drink. "And this apartment is insane" she gushed.

Camille giggled. "You've seen it before" she stated.

Mariah winked. "I know, but I always forget

how nice it is plus the views" she added.

"Thanks, and you look gorgeous too" Camille complimented back.

"I think you'll get alot of male attention" Mariah suggested taking a sip of her champagne.

Camille blanched slightly. She didn't want any other male attention, males just messed with her head, or in Billy's case her sexual desires.

"I don't want any" Camille replied flatly.

Mariah sighed. "Did you not see Billy before you left?" She asked gently. Camille shook her head. "Nope" she stated before waving her hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter anyways we will have a

good night" she smiled.

Mariah clicked her glasses. "Cheers to that hon" she replied just as her buzzer rang.

Camille rushed towards it placing her drink down and answering it. "Its the taxi!" She hollered over her shoulder, telling the driver she would be straight down.

Mariah widened her eyes downing her drink. "Danny, are you ready? Taxis here" she hollered.

Danny appeared in the door way. "Been ready for ages" he replied.

Mariah rolled her eyes, rushing over to grab his hand. "Come on" she urged as Camille grabbed her purse.

The trio exited the apartment, Camille ensuring it was locked before taking the elevator to the ground floor. The taxi awaiting to take them to a small bar called "Figs" located just outside Times Square.

The bar was rowdy and packed as they squeezed through the crowds gathering to celebrate their night. Mariah spotted a small booth at the back, telling Danny to order some drinks as they rushed to reserve the seats.

"Gosh, it's crazy" Mariah gushed as the girls sat down.

"Won't Danny need some help?" Camille asked.

Mariah waved her hand. "He'll be fine" she dismissed leaning forward. "So, do you see

any cute guys?" She asked.

Camille sighed. "I don't know and nor do I care" she stated. "The last thing I need is a guy complicating anything" she stated.

"Come on, it could just be sex" Mariah stated.

"Yeah, well look where 'just sex' got me last time" she stated mimicking quotations with her fingers.

Mariah bit her lip. "Yeah, well it's hard because you know Billy" she stated. "Whereas a random guy you wouldn't even need to get his number" she bargained.

"No, I'm good Mariah" Camille dismissed.

"Sorry hon, I just hate seeing you glum" Mariah apologised.

"It's okay, I know you're looking out for me" Camille replied just as Danny bustled over setting the drinks down.

"There you go ladies'" he stated ad the girls thanked him. He sat down before pulling out his pager and furrowing his brow.

"Why do you keep checking that?" Mariah enquired curious.

Danny sighed. "I haven't heard from Billy" he stated.

"And? He's a big boy" Mariah stated. "Are you guys in some secret relationship I don't know about?" She joked.

Danny rolled his eyes. "No, the dude likes girls" he dismissed.

Camille took a sip of her drink, yes he was a big boy her mind wondered with dirty thoughts. Her heart tried not to pang at the plural meaning to his words.

"When we fly he checks in with me" Danny replied.

Mariah furrowed her brow. "Why would he know we flew?" She enquired.

"Because I kind of told him our plans" Danny stated sheepish.

Mariah narrowed her eyes. "What the hell? Why would you do that?" She asked.

"He was talking about going to a party, he asked if we wanted to go and I told him we couldn't" Danny stated.

Mariah huffed. "Couldn't you make an excuse?" She asked.

Danny waved her off. "Relax, this is Billy who never leaves California" he stated. "He's hardly gonna follow us out here" he added.

"Room for two more?" A familiar voice sounded that filled Camille with dread

The trio spun around in their seats, Camille's mouth gaping open as she took in the sight of Billy standing in the bar, his arm around a petite blonde. What the fuck was he doing here.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing here?" Danny grinned reaching out to slap his

hand.

Billy shrugged. "Fancied a change this new year, and this one said she's always wanted to see the ball drop" he stated giving his dates arm a squeeze. The girl giggling as she fluttered her eyelashes at him, however Billy didn't pay her any attention his eyes slowly fluttering towards Camille who looked away and down at the table.

"Are you kidding me?" Mariah hissed. "You've never left California since you came back and now suddenly you want to come to New York" she fired at him.

Billy rose a brow at her bristly tone. "Like I said, this one wanted to see the ball drop" he repeated. "Who am I to deny?" He asked smirking as Camille finally looked up.

"Bullshit" Mariah scoffed.

"Babe".Danny muttered.

"Don't babe me, your full of shit Billy" she fired at him. "Since when did you make such an effort? Like I said you've never been out of California and now you wanna come here, after Danny stupidly told you our plans for new years" she accused.

"Mariah" Camille warned quietly not liking the sudden tension in the room. Plus, she didn't want his date to feel awkward.

Billy scoffed. "You don't own New York" he fired back. "I can go wherever I wanna go and if I want to treat a beautiful girl to a good time then why the fuck can't i" he threw back.

Camille baulked at that comment, it was like she hadn't been worth anything. It was just sex.

"Well be my guest, I won't ruin your new years eve" Mariah stated giving Camille a tap on her arm. "Come on, we'll go back and have a few drinks at yours" Mariah stared.

"Babe, don't go" Danny pleaded.

"Its fine, just meet us there before midnight" Mariah stated as she hopped off the bar stool. Camille followed suit her eyes remained in front of her, not sparing Billy a glance even when she felt him burning a hole in the side of her head.

The ride back to her apartment was silent,

Mariah sharing a concerned glance every so often as Camille mentally reeled from seeing Billy in the flesh again. It was like he was just trying to hurt her in purpose.

"How about we go to another bar instead? It's only 10.30" Mariah suggested.

"Won't Danny wonder where we are?" Camille enquired. "He can meet us at yours, we'll be back before midnight" she assured them telling the taxi to take them to a bar.

"Okay" Camille stated looking out the window at the New York streets, her mind wandering to what plans Billy had for the evening. Maybe, he had a hotel somewhere she thought then shook her head, it didn't matter she didn't care.

O'Malleys was a packed Irish bar located in downtown New York, the girls had to squeeze through growing crowd to get to the bar both ordering Sex on the beach before squeezing themselves into a booth.

"I cannot believe him" Mariah grumbled sipping her cocktail.

Camille shrugged. "Maybe he did want to do something different" she stated.

Mariah rolled her eyes. "Yeah right, he's so transparent it's unbelievable" she stared.

Camille furrowed her brow, a slither of hope flitted through her stomach. "What do you mean?" She enquired sipping her cocktail.

Mariah huffed. "Its obvious he came here

to see you, but he won't ever just admit it" she stated.

Camille felt butterflies tingling in her stomach. "Don't be silly" she dismissed with q wave of her hand.

Mariah raises a brow. "Hon, Danny literally told him yesterday about our plans" she states. "This is Billy who only left California against his will when he was a teenager, he used to harp on about going back to California and he is the same guy who doesn't believe in New years" she finished.

Camille widened her eyes. "So, he doesn't do anything for new years?" She enquired her eyes flitting to her glass, her finger glazing the rim.

Mariah shrugged. "We sometimes have drinks at ours and he shows up, but my point is he wouldn't come here if me or Danny suggested" she stated with a small smirk. "The boys infatuated" she nodded to Camille.

Camille felt the swarm of butterflies growing bigger, swarming her stomach. "It was only sex" she repeated his earlier statement.

"Sure and I'm the Pope" Mariah quipped.

Camille flitted her eyes to the table. "It doesn't matter anyways, he brought a date with him" she replied. "Which we were pretty rude too" Camille winced feeling bad for the mystery girl.

Mariah rolled her eyes. "She must know

what she's getting into, he is just doing that to make you feel bad" Mariah stated.

Camille's ears perked up. "He said that?" She enquired off handed, trying to to make herself sound desperate.

"No, but I can just tell" Mariah stated taking a gulp of her drink.

Camille groaned. "Why do guys play stupid games?" She asked.

Mariah shrugged, her eyes furrowing as her pager beeped. "Ugh great, Danny wants to know where we are" she groaned.

"And that's a bad thing?" Camille enquired.

"Well you know he will bring Billy along, he won't leave his best friend stranded in a

city he doesn't know" she replied.

"Oh" Camille stated. "I suppose you have to tell him" she stated taking a gulp of her drink. Lord knows she needed some Dutch courage right about now.

Mariah flashed her a sympathetic look. "I know but I'm pissed off, we had plans and Danny has opened his mouth and ruined them" she swore. "Like he has to know Billy being here will make you uncomfortable" she finished a sour look on her face.

Camille sighed. "I mean its a tad awkward, but you can't leave Danny on his own not on New Years" she suggested giving Mariah a weak smile when she clocked her facial expression. "I'll be okay I'm.a.big.girl" she reassured her reaching over to grab her hand. "Plus, I got myself into this mess

you guys shouldn't have to suffer, I'll be civil and play nice" she promised.

Mariah sighed. "Billy better play nice or else my foot is going so far up his ass" she swore typing back before pausing. "Are you sure? I don't mind going back to yours plus Billy is an adult, he can find his way around" she dismissed.

Camille wanted to say no, but she couldn't hide forever. Sooner or later she would need to face him. "Its fine, tell them where we are" Camille urged a lump forming in her throat. God, she needed another drink she thought. "I'll get us another" she stated nodding to the empty glasses.

Camille hopped off her stool, fighting her way through the crowded bar. She signed as she waited patiently in line before finally

getting her drinks cradling them in each hand as she tried not to spill them. She had just put them down on the table when an arm slinked around Mariah.

"Baby" a drunk Danny slurred as he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

Mariah grimaced. "How much have you had?" She asked wiping her face.

"A skinful" Camille heard Billy state.

Her head moved in his direction, noting he was standing at the end of the table with his arm slinked around his date. The girl snuggled up to him with a smile on her face, her eyes fluttering up at him. Billy clocked Camille's movements flashing her a smarmy grin as his eyes fluttered to hers. Camille looked away, her drink

suddenly becoming interesting as she took a gulp.

"God, I hope you make it to midnight we've got plans" Mariah stared annoyed.

"M' sorry baby, don't wanna make you mad" Danny stated with a hiccup making Camille giggle.

"OH, where are you going?" The girl spoke up for the first time.

Camille shifted her eyes to the girl. "Ermm..were going back to my place to watch the ball drop" she stated awkwardly.

"Wow that sounds exciting" she spoke up with glee.

Camille nodded, making awkward eye contact with Mariah before looking back at her. "You guys can come if you want" she cringed at herself before yelping when she felt Mariah kick her foot, a stern look on her face.

"Aww, ain't you so sweet" Billy cooed sarcasm lacing his tone, a smirk adorning his face as he looked at Camille.

Camille narrowed her eyes at his tone. "Just trying to be kind" she fired back at him.

Billy raised a brow. "Sure you are" he threw back at her.

Camille rolled her eyes. "Don't come then, see if I care" she stated flippantly.

Billy smirked. "There she is ladies and gents, feisty as ever" he replied taking a swig of his beer.

"Billy" Mariah warned, cradling a drunken Danny whose head was on her shoulder.

"What?" He spat back.

Camille cut in. "Well your date can come then" she stated giving the girl a smile. "Sorry I didn't catch your name" she stated polite.

The girl perked up. "Tammy" the girl answered. "I've always wanted to see the ball drop" she stared.

Camille smiled. "Well, great then you can come along with or without this brute" she stated flashing Billy a sickly sweet grin as he narrowed his eyes at her. "Excuse me, gotta go to the bathroom" she stated slipping off the bar.

"We can have one more then we better get going, it's after eleven" Mariah stated.

"Yeah, that's fine" Camille threw over her shoulder as she pushed her way through the crowd. She was surprised there wasn't a long queue for the toilets, and that there were only three single cubed toilets for such a big pub. She waited in line feeling proud of how she had dealt with Billy, judging by the look he flashed her she had won whatever stupid game he decided to play.

"Bet your pretty proud of yourself" Billy gritted in her ear.

Camille turned her head to see him

standing with a passive look on his face, his arms folded as he waited in line behind her.

"What are you even doing here?" She asked him.

Billy shrugged, a passive look on his face. But she could tell by how dark his eyes had gotten that he was annoyed. "Told you, wanted to treat my date" he replied.

Camille scoffed. "Yeah right, the guy who never leaves California wanted to come all the way out here" she stated rolling her eyes before turning around. She gasped slightly when she felt him tug on her arm bringing her round to face him.

"What are you insinuating?" He asked, his deep blues boring into hers.

Camille shrugged his arm off. "Did you come here to ruin my fun? Did I piss you off that much?" She accused.

Billy narrowed his eyes. "The fuck would I I that for? You really think so much of yourself don't you princess" he sneered.

A door unlocking had her wrenching her arm out of his grip. "This conversation is over" she stated pointedly before going to enter the cubicle.

"Like hell it is" Billy muttered before entering behind her, shutting the door and locking it for good measure.

"What the hell are you doing? I need to pee" Camille stated furiously as she glared at Billy.

Billy stood by the door. "I ain't finished plus it's not like I haven't seen your pussy before" he stated crudely.

Camille scrunched her nose up. "You're being gross!" She accused.

Billy let out a deep chuckle, slinking off the door and walking towards her. His hand brushing her hip as he cornered her against the wall. "Wasn't so disgusting when I buried my cock inside of you" he whispered hotly his other hand landing on tje wall beside her head, blocking a form of exit.

Camille felt ashamed at the wetness that pooled in her knickers, she hated the effect his filthy words had on her. "Yeah it wasn't, until you acted like a Jackass the next day"

she spat at him.

Billy flashed her a dangerous smirk, his eyes roaming her chest which was heaving up and down. Her breasts moving in sync giving him a view of her cleavage. "Yeah, and you couldn't wait to get out like a bat outta hell" he stated his voice taking on a low timbre, which made Camille clench her legs.

"Thought you would be used to that by now" she threw back.

Billy shook his head. "Yeah well, maybe I got sick of repeating old patterns" he stated. "Or maybe I wanted another round before tossing you out" he added with a nasty smirk.

Camille pushed at his chest. "You're

fucking impossible" she swore.

Billy gave her a devilish grin. "Well it ain't impossible to make you come undone" he stated trailing her exposed collarbone making her flush.

"I'm sure Tammy wonders where you are" Camille replied weakly, her head spinning at this confusing interaction.

Billy scoffed. "What she don't know won't hurt her" he replied.

Camille glowered. "I'm sure you say that about all the girls" she spat at him pushing at his chest. "But I'm not one of them, so if you could leave so I could pee in peace" she stated.

Billy smirked, his hand coming to cup her

jaw. "Or I could fuck you right here, show ya how much I've missed ya" he stated lowly his voice sending shivers down her spine.

"You're such a misogynist" Camille spat at him as she gripped onto his jacker, her legs feeling weak at the dirty thoughts that fluttered through her head. "There's a line so please just go" she begged weakly.

Billy shrugged. "Guess we'll have to make it quick" he muttered before flitting his hands to her hips, pulling her against him and crashing their lips together.

Camille let out a moan as she fell into the kiss, her hands threading through his curls as he picked her up and placed her on the sink. Her legs wrapped around his waist as they lost themselves in a heated kiss of

tongues meshing together.

Billy pulled his lips away, sucking on her bottom lip before moving to her exposed neck peppering kisses along her jawline. "Missed these damn lips" he muttered into her neck as Camille groaned her head flitting back against the mirror. "Missed you so fucking much" he stated sucking on the exposed skin.

"Billy" Camille moaned, her eyes opening as she came to her senses. "Billy" she called pushing at his chest.

He reluctantly moved his lips away. "What baby?" He panted his lips red and swollen.

"Tammy! What about Tammy?" She asked.

Billy flashed her a grin. "I'll let you in on a

little secret" he stated cupping her jaw. "She asked to come with me to make her ex jealous, wants us to take a picture so she can show him" he stated.

"OH, and you agreed?" Camille panted.

Billy nodded. "In a way, just wanted to come here because life got boring without your fiesty ass" he stated giving her a grin.

Camille felt her heart flutter, opening her mouth to agree, she had missed their back and forth arguing and the sex. A bang on the door interrupted the pair, her words dying on her tongue.

"I better go, you gotta use the loo anyways" Billy stated reaching down to land a quick kiss on her neck. "I'll see you later" he crooned sending her a quick wink before exiting the cubicle, the protests of other people dying off in the background when he shut the door. Fuck, things had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

…………………………………………………….. Camille adjusted herself before finishing up and exiting the cubicle, she gave the annoyed patrons an apologetic look before pushing passed them and back towards her table.

"Finally, you need to down this and then we have to go it's 11.30" Mariah cried shoving a shot into her hands.

Camille gripped it clumsily almost dropping it, before downing the shot her eyes flitting towards Billy who flashed her a flirty grin.

"So, we all heading back to yours?" Billy

asked looking over at Camille.

Camille nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, we can split a taxi" she suggested.

Mariah flashed her a knowing look. "Billy, will you help me with him?" She asked nodding towards Danny who was laying on jer shoulder.

Billy chuckled. "I got him" he stated grunting as he lifted Danny up, slinging his arm over his shoulder.

Mariah looker over at Camille. "What happened?" She asked.

Camille groaned. "I'll tell you later" she whispered nodding over to Tammy who was following behind Billy.

Mariah nodded. "You naughty girl" she winked as they made their way outside into the cool New York Air.

Flagging down a taxi proved to be a challenge. Eventually Billy managed to flag one down, the driver taking one look at Danny and shaking his head.

"I ain't taking him" he replied gruffly. "Only got room for two anyways" he stated nodding to the two vacant seats in the back.

"You two go, I'll find another taxi" Billy suggested nodding at the yellow cab.

"Are you sure? What about Tammy?" Camille added nodding towards the young girl who was hiding shyly behind Billy.

Billy sighed. "We'll find another taxi, you two just get home" he urged.

Camille nodded reeling off her address to Billy, before entering the cab the other seat occupied by another couple who spoke to them throughout the taxi ride. Camille hoped they would all get back safely to her apartment, her mind worrying over the possibility of things going wrong.

They bid a happy new year to the couple as the taxi pulled up to her apartment, it was 11.45 Camille noted as they exited the cab and into the building thankful they only had to go up one floor as they bundled into the lift.

"God, they better make it" Mariah muttered.

"I hope so too" Camille replied as they got

out of the lift, walking towards her apartment door.

"So, what happened?" She asked.

Camille sighed. "I need a drink" she stated opening her apartment door and going straight for the bottle of wine on the counter.

Mariah shut the door behind her. "Tell me I'm literally dying" she begged dramatic as ever.

"We kissed in the bathroom" Camille confessed.

"OH MY GOD" Mariah squealed. "I told you he had come to see you!" Mariah clapped in delight then paused. "What about Tammy?" She asked.

"That'd what I said!" Camille stated. "He said apparently Tammy wants to get back at her ex, the plan is to take a picture so he sees" Camille explained taking a gulp of jer wine.

"And Billy went along with it?" Mariah asked.

Camille nodded. "He said life got boring without my feistiness" she stated.

Mariah squealed. "He has it so bad!!!" She exclaimed pouring herself a glass of wine.

Camille rolled her eyes, though she could feel the butterflies swarming in her stomach at the repeat of his confession. The buzzer went off signaling someone was trying to get in, she shared a look with Mariah before answering the call.

"Hello" she slurred slightly.

"Its me" Billy grunted on the other end. "Mind opening up before I drop this dickwad on his head" he grunted.

Camille chuckled before buzzing them up. "Think Danny is in trouble" she grinned at Mariah who rolled her eyes.

"Yeah he will be when I stick my foot up his ass" she grumbled.

Camille giggled before a knock sounded on her door. She walked over to open it, holding back a giggle at the sight of Danny slumped over Billy's shoulders an annoyed look on the blondes face as he entered the apartment. She furrowed her brows in

confusion when Tammy didn't appear.

Billy sighed putting Danny on the couch. "You got any glasses?" He asked Camille.

"Top cupboard" she replied shutting the door.

Billy went over to get a glass, his shirt riding up slightly exposing a slither of tanned skin. Camille tried to hide the blush that crept onto her face, or the way his muscular hand gripped the glass as he filled it with water.

"Where's Tammy?" Mariah blurted as he turned the tap off.

Billy turned to the pair giving them a lazy shrug. "Funny enough, she bumped into her ex who got her tickets for the ball drop

so we mutually decided to part ways" he replied sending Camille a slight grin which Mariah clocked.

Billy moved from the sink and walked towards Danny holding a glass out for him. "Drink this" he commanded.

"I love you dude" Danny slurred taking the glass and downing the water.

"Yeah yeah" Billy dismissed before going back to fill it up. "Drink more" he commanded before looking over at the girls. "What time is it?" He asked.

Mariah looked at her watch. "11.55" she stated. "Oh my god position's!" She squeaked moving away from the counter top.

"Well see better in my room" Camille suggested.

Billy smirked at that. "Lead the way" he stated. "Come on dickhead" he stated to Danny who was a bit more sober, standing up on wobbly feet as Mariah linked arms with him and chastising him.

The foursome stood by the apartment window. Mariah holding on to Danny and marveling at how much of times square could be seen from her huge window.

"You got a nice view from here" Billy stated lowly as the clock flashed counting down till midnight. 4 minutes to go.

"Yeah, it's not bad for what I could afford" she agreed flashing him a smile. 3 minutes to go.

Billy nodded his hand brushing hers slightly, fingers reaching out to lightly graze hers. Camille shivered at the slight contact.

"OH MY GOD! 2 minutes to go" Mariah squealed as Danny flashed her a lazy smile.

"I love you baby" Danny stated gleefully.

"I love you too but y9u better be sober enough yo kiss me at midnight" she warned.

Camille blanched slightly at that remark, wishing she could have someone to kiss her mind reeling back yo earlier on.

"One more minute!" Mariah cried out.

Camille took another gulp of her wine, willing away her thoughts as Billy grazed her finger tips once more sensing electric bolts through her.

"You okay?" He whispered lowly.

Camille nodded. "Yeah, you?" She asked.

"Always, but even more now" he replied as the countdown to midnight began. Mariah and Camille chanted along with the crowd.

"Five" Camille counted gasping slightly when when felt a pair or fingers thread through her hand. She looked down noting the tanned fingers sitting nicely between hers a ring shining in the moonlight. She looked up to see Billy looking out the window with a slight smirk on his face.

"Four…three..two" the crowd chanted outside as the roars started to get louder.

"ONE" Mariah practically screamed grabbing Danny's face and giving him a kiss.

Camille stood awkwardly clutching the remnants of her wine in her hand, anticipation bubbling in her veins if she should make the first move. She risked a glance at Billy who was still looking out the window, Mariah had settled on dauntless shoulder watching the crowd go wild.

"Happy New year" she stated with a small smile.

Billy turned to her, giving her hand a squeeze. "You too" he replied.

Camille held her glass up lamely. "I'm gonna refill" she stated reluctantly loosing her hand from his warm calloused one, turning on her heel and walking back into the kitchen. A sigh leaving her lips as she filled her glass back up and took another gulp. Why the hell didn't she just kiss him she thought.

"You okay?" She heard Billy ask from behind her.

She turned around seeing him leaning against the counter opposite her, brows furrowed a concerned look on his face.

"Yeah, just feel overwhelmed not how I thought I'd end my year" she stated.

"How'd you mean?" He enquired

straightening up.

Camille sighed taking another gulp. "Well, I started the year kissing my boyfriend of three years not knowing he was cheating on me the whole time". she confessed feeling slightly stupid as she wiped a tear away.

She heard Billy shift on his feet, his boots stopping infront of her heels his hand reaching up to brush the aide of her jaw. His blue eyes stared into hers. "His loss is another man's gain" he stated shifting closer, so his breath cascaded along her face. "Now you get to end it kissing a different guy instead" he muttered his eyes flickered down to her lips, his head shifting closer as their lips connected softly.

The kiss quickly turned heated, Camille threading her fingers through Billy's locks. Tongues meshing against one another, a moan slipping past her lips as his hands landed on her waist, squeezing and palming her ass.

Footsteps shuffling into the room interrupted the pair, as they broke away with Billy coming to stand beside her.

Mariah's head popped around the corner. "Wow, that atmosphere is insane" she gushed.

Camille smiled. "You got your kiss then?" She enquired.

Mariah nodded. "Yep, and looks like someone else did too" she smirked.

"Mariah" Camille warned, her cheeks reddening as Billy let out a laugh.

Mariah smiled. "I'm going to go now anyways, need to get this idiot home" she stated nodding towards Danny who was splayed against the window. "Mind helping me?" She asked Billy.

Billy nodded. "Sure" he replied.

"Don't you need to call a taxi? You can wait up here" Camille suggested.

"I already called one whilst you were in here" she smirked. "But I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast" she stated.

Camille smiled. "See you then" she replied reaching out to give her a hug which Mariah returned. The sound of her apartment buzzer interrupted them as Camille went to answer it. "Taxi is here" she called over her shoulder.

"Come on dickhead" Billy stated draping Danny across his shoulder.

"Where are you staying? Wanna share a cab?" Mariah offered.

"Well, I had a hotel room got a last minute deal with Tammy for two single beds but she's probably off with her guy" he stated.

"You can stay here" Camille offered. She figured she owed him for helping her out. "I can have the couch" she offered.

"If you're sure" Billy replied. "I mean you ain't have the couch" he stated.

"We can sort it out" Camille shrugged.

"I'll see you in a bit" Billy winked moving towards her door, Mariah just in front of him as they exited.

Camille busied herself with getting pillows and blankets out of the linen closet. Chugging the last of her wine as the door opened. Billy entered the apartment, letting out a groan that had wetness pooling in her knickers.

"Danny is fucking heavy" he swore stretching his arms above his head, his limbs popping a slither of skin exposing itself .Camille looked away, cheeks reddened.

Camille flittered her eyes away from the exposed slither of skin. ‘’Do you want to stay? No pressure’’ she added.

Billy smiled. ‘’Sure, if you don’t mind’’ he stated.

‘’Course not’’ Camille added.

‘’You going to bed?’’ Billy asked nodding toward the blankets.

‘’I’m actually not tired’’ she replied. ‘’I was going to have another drink and people watch’’ she replied feeling slightly lame.

‘’Sound good’’ Billy agreed.

‘’There is beer in the fridge if you don’t want wine’’ she offered.

‘’Thanks’’ Billy stated walking over to the fridge.

Camille set her blanket on the rug in the view of Times Square, watching the copious amounts of people still celebrating the New Year.

‘’I reckon that chick wants to be more than friends’’ Billy stated plopping himself down beside her, taking a gulp of his beer.

Camille furrowed her brows in concentration, looking down at the younger girl who was hanging off every word the male in front of her was saying with an animated smile on her face. ‘’That woman seems to be getting broken up with’’ she pointed sadly to another lady, tears streaming down her face.

‘’Ouch’’ Billy stated noting the guy in front of her looked awkward.

‘’Gosh, that is horrid shall we invite her up here instead?’’ Camille asked solemnly.

Billy tusked. ‘’Why? So we can have a threesome?’’ he joked.

Camille scrunched her nose up. ‘’that’s a gross thought’’ she admitted.

Billy laughed. ‘’I don’t do things like that’’ he stated turning his head to her.

Camille met his stare. ‘’Do what?’’ she asked.

‘’Threesomes’’ he answered. ‘’I take care of my girl, don’t like to share her’’ he added pointedly staring her down.

Camille felt the butterflies sore in her stomach. ‘’I don’t do them either’’ she replied dumbly.

Billy grinned. ‘’Good girl’’ he praised.

Camille bit her lip, his praise having an effect on her before reaching up to toy with the necklace splayed against his chest. ‘’I can be a bad girl too’’ she whispered moving closer to him.

‘’Really?’’ Billy smirked his eyes roaming her body.

Camille nodded, reaching out to touch his shoulder whilst swinging her leg over his effectively straddling him. ‘’Want me to show you?’’ she asked sultry.

‘’Fuck, baby’’ Billy swore lowly his hands reaching to grip her hips.

Camille felt the wetness pool in her lacy underwear, reaching out to slowly unbutton Billy’s blue shirt leaving a trail of kisses on his exposed chest as he shrugged it off his shoulders. She bit her lip at the golden abs on display for her viewing pleasure only.

Billy reached forward sucking on the exposed column on her neck, drawing out a long moan from Camille as he fiddled with the zip on the her lacy top, flinging the garment off her.

Billy reached out taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud sending electric bolts through her body.

‘’Fuck’’ Camille moaned gripping his hair, her head lolling back. ‘’Wait’’ she called tapping on his shoulder.

Billy looked up, her nipple falling out of from between his plump lips. ‘’What?’’ he asked.

‘’Lay down’’ Camille ordered pushing at his shoulders.

‘’Really?’’ Billy grinned.

‘’Really’ she confirmed watching as he lay back.

Camille fiddled with his belt, unzipping his jeans pulling them down along with his boxers. Her mouth watered as his thick cock slapped against his exposed abdomen, her hands gripping the base as she licked a fat stripe down his shaft.

‘’Fuck’’ Billy grunted.

Camille took his entire length in her mouth, his cock hitting the back of her throat as she bobbed up and down his length.

‘’Oh, fuck baby’’ Billy groaned reaching out to thread his hand in her hair. ‘’Take me so well’’ he grunted bucking his hips.

Camille fluttered her eyelashes at him, pausing to suck on the tip whilst pre cum coated her tongue. Billy bucked his hips again as she sucked on his balls, before wrapping her lips around him. One of her hands reached down to push her knickers to the side, moaning as she plunged her fingers inside herself.

‘’Oh baby, that’s fucking hot you playing with yourself whilst sucking me off’’ Billy praised breathless. ‘’I’m gonna cum soon’’ he grunted bucking hips once more.

Camille moaned as he thrusted into her, spurting out hot thick cum into her mouth as she came on her fingers. His dick popped out of her mouth, as she stood up and shut the curtains whilst removing her skirt and knickers leaving her totally exposed.

‘’Get the fuck over here’’ Billy commanded his eyes roaming her naked body as he shrugged off his jeans and boxers.

Camille straddled him, the tip of his cock laying against her ass as he pulled her into a feverish kiss. She pulled away lining him up with her entrance, groaning when she sank onto him and he bottomed out.

‘’You going to take this cock?’’ Billy asked.

‘’Y-yes’’ Camille stuttered as she began a slow pace, groaning as she rocked against him. He felt so deep, like he was inside her stomach.

Billy landed a slap on her ass. ‘’Gonna ride me baby?’’ he asked bucking his hips up.

‘’Fucking yes!’’ Camille squealed, her nails digging into his shoulders as she rocked herself on his cock at a fast pace.

‘’Leave those marks baby’’ Billy grunted, his balls slapping against her bare ass as he gripped her hips. ‘’Missed these fucking pussy and those damn lips’’ he praised.

Camille groaned. ‘’S-so good’’ she babbled.

‘’No other man can fuck you like me’’ Billy bragged. ‘’Can he?’’ he asked fucking into her at a relentless pace. Camille responded with a moan. ‘’Use your words’’ he commanded giving her a sharp slap on her ass that had her clenching around him.

‘’N-no man can f-fuck me like t-this’’ she babbled feeling the coil in her abdomen snapping.

‘’You gonna cum?’’ Billy asked, sitting up so he was deeper inside. His pants becoming heavy, his chest coated in sweat.

‘’Yes, fucking yes’’ Camille screamed as her orgasm rippled through her.

Billy moaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he rutted his hips into her. ‘’Shit, I’m gonna blow’’ he warned as he let out a groan before shooting cum inside of her.

Camille panted, her legs cramping up slightly as she collapsed against him. ‘’I need to get off’’ she panted.

Billy let go of her hips, letting her roll off him and onto the soft blanket. ‘’Wow’’ she panted.

Billy collapsed beside her. ‘’Yeah, wow’’ he panted. ‘C’mere’’ he gestured patting his bare chest. Camille obliged, not wanting to mess up like last time before scooting over to him, laying her head against his bare chest. She could hear his heart beating steadily.

‘’You know when I said I was scared of clowns?’’ Billy blurted, his arm coming to rest over her waist.

‘’Yeah’’ Camille answered slightly confused.

‘’I was also scared of my old man’’ Billy confessed quietly, that she almost didn’t hear him. ‘’Fucker used to beat me senseless, thought it taught me respect and responsibility’’ he scoffed.

Camille swallowed. "I'm sorry, he was wrong to do that" she stated feeling her eyes pricking, the memories of her own turbulent childhood coming back.

Billy nodded. "Was always told I was a pussy because I didn't fight back, I could have taken him down" he sighed. "But I could never bring myself too, he was my Dad even if he was an asshole" he finished. ‘’Ain’t spoke to the fucker in five years’’ he added.

Camille sighed, her fingers striking against his cheek. "My mom used to take me to festivals, get high and leave me with strange men" she confessed.

Billy grazed her jaw, tilting it so their eyes met. "You serious?" He asked.

"Yeah" Camille replied. "She also said I wasn't pretty, even tried to cut my hair off to make me look like a boy" she replied sadly tears pooling in her eyes.

"Hey" Billy stated wiping away a tear. "She was wrong, your god damn sexy even when you’re driving me insane" he replied.

The butterflies swirled again at the compliment; Not being used to receiving them from anyone in her life. "Thank you" she replied shyly before flashing him a smirk. "I'd compliment you but we know your ego doesn't need it" she winked.

Billy chuckled. "I know I'm good by the fact

I make you scream so loud" he fired back.

Camille burst into laughter. "Typical" she rolled her eyes breathing as their laughter died down.

"I didn't wash my sheets after that morning" Billy blurted. "For days after cos they smelt like you" he groaned.

Camille’s heart soared. "Really?" She asked.

"Yep" Billy replied with a sigh. "You got me all fucked up sweetheart" he confessed.

"Me too, I don't know what's happening to me" she replied her eyes slowly closing as he rubbed the soft spot behind her ear. She didn't hear his reply, slowly falling asleep with his confession on her mind.

#billy hargrove #billy stranger things #billy x reader #billy x fem reader

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dreamofstarlight · 2 years ago

Note

jfk looking at newborn baby caroline (or john jr i forgot) through the glass window and jfk asking lem who is the prettiest baby there and lem picks the wrong baby making jfk not speak to him for 3 days lmao.

lmao! I think it was Caroline because I remember reading how he kept telling Lem how beautiful Caroline was after she was born.

#anon #ask #answered #john f kennedy #jfk #caroline kennedy #lem billings #kennedy family #the kennedys

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ashandkatiewrite · 1 year ago

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FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL

Chapter 14

FIC SYNOPSIS: Maggie Hastings meets her dream man after a flight into New York City— Bucky Barnes, a pilot who seems to be everything she’s looking for. Except that she already has a boyfriend who never has time for her. After a near-tryst with her dream pilot, Maggie runs, only to find out he later meets her best friend and they’re now crazy about each other. Among their group of best friends, between Chicago and New York, and four weddings and a funeral, Maggie and Bucky struggle to keep their fiery chemistry a secret so they don’t hurt the ones they love.

WRITTEN BY: @if-you-onlyknew & @scherbatskybish

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OFC

Rating: M (Mature) & E (Explicit)

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

chapter preview…

"This is your Captain speaking.”

Maggie’s head snapped up from the scientific journal she was reading as the plane settled at 30,000 feet and a very familiar voice spoke over the intercom.

“Bucky?” She found herself whispering his name, in a state of shock. Had Maggie just hallucinated hearing him?

“We’re expecting a smooth flight into the Bahamas in about two hours. The temperature there is a balmy sixty seven degrees Fahrenheit so I hope you’ve all packed your swim gear.”

There were chuckles throughout the plane and a few that were very confused.

Maggie shook her head in amusement, her cheeks flushing as her stomach erupted with butterflies. Bucky was her pilot — for real this time. He had gotten his pilot's license!

“Oh, we’re not going to the Bahamas, unfortunately. Scratch that. We’re on our way to New York and will be there in forty five minutes,” the smooth voice said with some humor and joviality in his voice by the sound of it. “You can still expect a smooth flight with very little to no turbulence. And if anyone is in need of a very talented doctor on this flight, we’re lucky to have Doctor Hastings in seat 4A. Enjoy the flight.”

Maggie blinked, her face going red. He knew she was on his flight.

The intercom clicked off and the fasten seatbelt sign turned off.

Several people turned in their seats to look at Maggie. One man spoke up right away and began to pull his shoe off. “I got this problem with my foot,” he started to say.

“Do not take your shoe off, Carlos,” the woman next to him berated him. “I told you to take care of that bunion years ago.” Carlos pushed his foot back into the shoe with a grumpy look on his face and began quietly bickering with his companion.

Maggie was grinning, despite knowing she’d have people coming up to her throughout the duration of the flight looking for free medical advice, but she didn’t care. Bucky was her pilot. He had followed through with his dreams and Maggie could not be more proud.

The beverage service began and when the flight attendant stopped at Maggie’s row, a glass of tequila sour was offered to her and Maggie knew exactly who it came from . “From the Captain,” the flight attendant confirmed with a faint trace of a smile.

There was no first class section on this plane since it was such a short flight from Philadelphia into JFK, so the drink would have cost money normally.

Maggie grinned, taking the drink. “Please tell him thank you,” she told the flight attendant, who then gave Maggie a small, folded up piece of paper.

Her face flushed as she opened the note.

Drinks?

— Bucky

TAGLIST: @ocappreciationtag • @julieelliewrites • @arrthurpendragon • @darkwolf76 • @cas-verse • @victoriapedrcttis • @cjand10 • @acabecca • @seb-soph • @eddysocs • @darylandbethfanforever9 • @scarletwidoww

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cilldaracailin · 10 months ago

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I Was Born To Love You

Hello My Tumblr Lovely's,

I hope you are all well. This is the second last part of this story. Thanks so much for all the love and likes.

Suze xx

14 “The excitement of dreams coming true is beyond the description of words.”

Dropping her bag onto the floor, Robyn ignored the trees she could see from their hotel window and walked right over to Taron and pulled him in to hug him tight and close.

“Breathe.” She said into his neck. “In and out.”

“Robyn…”

“Just do it.” She replied firmly to him, hearing his sigh and then feeling his chest take some slow and easy breathes. “And more please.” Finally satisfied he had calmed his whole body down, she lifted her head from him and used her hand to tip his hat from his head so it fell backwards onto the carpeted floor. Kissing him lightly, she ran her hands through his flattened hair. “You really hate airports, don’t you?”

“So busy.”

“Yeah Taron, it’s an airport.” She saw him roll his eyes and tapped his nose. “We came out unscathed.”

“Until the papers tomorrow.”

“And they will say what? Taron Egerton seen with long-time friend Robyn in JFK?”

“Yeah…”

Robyn brushed his hair from his forehead, her hands going to his cheeks. “We are going to blend blend blend into the crowds here and walk around Central Park and look in the windows on Fifth Avenue and play the Big Piano in FAO Schwarz and look up at all the buildings until our necks hurt…”

“And be fussed about by Stella.” He added with a half-smile. “Sorry cariad. Airports just make me nervous.”

“Stella is going to make you shave.” Robyn said with a pout, her hands moving around to his neck, her thumbs rolling over his growing beard. “And I know they do but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and we got straight into the car and came here and…” Robyn turned around to finally look out the windows. “Are you freaking kidding me!” She walked over to the glass and stared out. “I know we agreed if the hotel was for a work thing for you, it was up to you but Taron, are you actually kidding me!” She leaned as far as could into the glass. “The Ritz Central Park?”

“Well you did say that you wanted to walk around Central Park. You can look out the window and plan your route.” He smiled coming to stand beside her. “And I didn’t book the hotel. My management team did. I just asked for two extra nights.” He shrugged. “But wow that is some view.”

“Taron that is the whole of Central Park out there.” She leaned back into him as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. “And it is still sunny.”

He chuckled. “Because we didn’t get enough of that in Florida?”

“I can feel my tan melting away.” Robyn replied dramatically.

“Not a chance.” Taron pressed his lips to her neck. “Tanned skin everywhere. So you want to go for a wander around?”

“Isn’t Stella coming here?”

“It has just gone eleven. Stella won’t be here for another few hours.”

“You sure? Because at your premier she was constantly telling me she didn’t have enough time so I was certain she would have already been in the room when we arrived.”

“Well, this isn’t my premier. It’s just a red carpet thing.”

“Because that will stop her? I don’t think so.”

Taron chuckled at her words. “Stella is coming around four to us and then we leave at six. That’s two hours to get ready.”

“For Stella?” Robyn turned around in his arms.

“Cariad, that was her suggestion. She will be here at four. So that means we can go explore for a while.”

“Then I say let’s go explore.” She agreed.

After a quick change and freshen up, they made their way out of the hotel, right onto the road opposite Central Park.

“Let’s leave the park for the way back.” Taron gripped her hand and gave it a little tug.

“You know I have to walk down Fifth Avenue and am going to have many many shopping bags for you to carry and you want to walk the park after?” Robyn grinned.

“Your shopping bag will more than likely be from FAO Schwarz and it will be a stuffed bear which will weigh nothing. We can do the park at the end. You still have to look out the window of our room and plan the way you want to go.” He gave her hand a harder pull “Now, let’s go this way. There is something I want to show you.”

“But Fifth Avenue is that way…” Robyn looked behind her as Taron started to walk to other way.

“I promise you tomorrow we will do every New York tourist thing that you want to do.” He said giving her hand a tug. “But for today, please let me take the lead.”

“Okie dokie but can we please go by FAO Schwarz cos I really want that bear you mentioned.”

Taron chuckled at her. “I will get you whatever you want tomorrow but for today, trust me.” He kept walking straight towards the Columbus Cir le and then took a left down eight avenue. The streets were busy but he knew he blended in with the others walking around, Robyn more so as she took picture after picture, insisting he got in for many selfies together. They continued their walk and as they entered Broadway and the theatre district, he could feel the increase in excitement in Robyn.

“I know we are going to see RENT this evening, but do you think we can try one of those red ticket booths to get some last-minute discounted ones for another show.”

“I am sure we could definitely have a look cariad.”

“Because I mean it’s Broadway and…”

“How could I even think about bringing you to New York and not bring you to more than one show? I mean you are miss musical theatre.” He felt the dig she gave him and took it with a smile. “We will get to another show Robyn. I promise. Now follow me.” He took a right but felt Robyn stop.

“Isn’t this where the musical is tonight?” She asked looking up at the famous exterior of the Gershwin Theatre, the black frame with the iconic white lights in the ceiling known to every musical theatre lover, RENT in large letters and lights on the outside.

“It is.” Taron confirmed.

“Ok so we come back here later. Not now. Now is time to explore.”

“Robyn…” Taron let go of her hand and stood behind her to give her a little push. “Will you just trust me and take my hand and come with me.”

“Ugh fine.”

He laughed at her reply and took her hand, walking under the lights and towards the entrance of the theatre. The security guard inside gave Taron a nod and unlocked the door, opening it for him.

“Mr Egerton. Come on in.” Once they inside, the guard locked the door again. “Head on through.”

“Thank you.”

With his hand locked in Robyn’s, Taron started to make his way across the green and gold diamond carpet towards an escalator.

“How does that security guard know your name?” Robyn asked.

“Just does.”

“Taron…”

“Shh trust me.” He chuckled again when Robyn made a similar sound to the one she had made previously. “I promise it will be worth it.”

Once off the escalator they walked into the wide-open lobby, Taron guiding the way towards a set of double doors in the middle of the lobby. He opened them and let Robyn through first, following her.

“Welcome to the Gershwin Theatre.” He said.

Robyn had never been in the Gershwin but walked past it many times and she was taken back by its beauty inside. Spacious and with a fantastic view from every seat, Robyn walked away from Taron and down the aisle to get a better look at the theatre as whole, turning around to see the seating in the upper circle.

“And what time do you call this?” Her head turned when she heard a voice call from the stage. “You told me twelve and its now near one. We have a schedule to keep to and an opening night to attend to!”

Robyn’s head whipped around to look to Taron and then back to the stage.

“Well, someone kept stopping to take photos along the way.” Taron called back coming to stand beside Robyn. “It delayed us a little.”

“Oh, she did, did she? Don’t you think it’s about time I get to meet the famous Robyn?”

“Sure. We will be right down.”

Taron grinned as he watched Robyn’s head flick back and forth between him and the stage and back to him again. “Want to go and meet him?”

“Taron!” Robyn threw her hands up in the air. “Are you joking me?”

“What?” She pointed to the stage.

“Oh that.”

“Oh that.” She repeated. “That is Hugh Jackman!” Her hand was still pointing to the stage. “Haven’t you learnt to stop surprising me with people?”

His whole face lit up with a grin. “But then cariad, I don’t get to see this wonderful look on your face which is a mix of awe, anger and excitement. It’s the most beautiful look.”

“Taron!”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “It is cariad but I also like to surprise you in the way you surprise me.”

“My surprises are usually cookies. Not Hugh Jackman. I don’t have a Hugh Jackman to surprise you with.”

“Robyn didn’t you know he was part of the team that brought RENT back to Broadway?”

“No Taron I didn’t.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You didn’t do any research about it?”

“Well no. I was told RENT was coming back, you were invited and we could go together and did you think I was going to refuse an invite to a Broadway musical! I was never told Hugh Jackman of THE Hugh Jackman was part of the production team.”

Taron gave her a half grin. “So wanna go and meet him?”

Robyn looked to the stage. “Well of course I do.”

“Keep the squeals in, ok?” He expected the dig and stepped out of her way.

“I don’t squeal.” She saw his look. “Ok sometimes but I will do my very very best.”

Hand in hand, they walked down the aisle to the stage, Taron letting her walk up the steps on the right-hand side first, Robyn waiting for him to join her before they walked together over to Hugh who was waiting in the middle of the stage for them.

“Robyn…” He held out his hand towards her. “It is very nice to finally meet you.”

Robyn shook his hand, trying her very best not to squeal and keep her voice steady. “It is, well amazing to meet you. Big fan.” She stopped mid shake, squeezed her eyes shut and whispered under her breathe. Opening her eyes, she looked to Hugh. “So, we are going to pretend I didn’t say that ok?”

Hugh laughed at her words. “Sure, but I already know you are a big fan. Taron may have let it slip.”

“Of course he did.” She looked over her shoulder to him. “Anything else I need to be aware of?”

“Hmmm nope.” She looked back to Hugh with a raised eyebrow. “Well only that you were in your own local production of RENT and won an award for it.”

“And this is where I take my exit. Hugh it was lovely to meet you but there is a big piano nearby that needs to be played.” She dropped his hand and started to walk off the stage but Taron grabbed her hand to pull her back. “You give away all my secrets.”

“To be fair to Taron…” Hugh interrupted. “I saw his Instagram post and asked him about it. He didn’t tell me exactly and a love for musical theatre should be celebrated and I am sure you know how much I love it.”

“Well kinda.” Robyn admitted.

“And you…” He stepped past Robyn to greet Taron with a hug. “Might be a good idea to give your girlfriend a heads up every now and again.” He gave him a strong pat on the back. “It’s good to see you again too.”

As Hugh greeted Taron, Robyn couldn’t help but take a few steps further onto the stage and stare out into the seats. The theatre was huge, and from the stage, every seat and box could be seen clearly.

“Now imagine it with a full audience.” Hugh suggested as he stood beside her.

“I can’t even. So many people.”

“You are a performer. You have performed in front of people.”

“Yeah a couple of hundred. Not this many.” She jumped a little when the orchestra sounded from the pit below them. “And not had a full orchestra either.”

Hugh looked to Taron and then back to Robyn who was still captivated by the theatre. “Never this big, eh?”

“Nope”

“Well, why don’t you give us a song?” Hugh stood beside her. “There might be no one here but you can say you performed at the Gershwin.”

Robyn chuckled and shook her head. “Yeah, because you have time for that. Doesn’t your cast need to warm up before the show?”

“The cast are not due for another while and the orchestra are warming up and could easily play a full song for you.”

Robyn looked at Taron who shrugged his shoulders. “Up to you cariad but ya know, it’s a Broadway stage and you are being given the opportunity to sing on one and I don’t know if I will have Hugh Jackman on a Broadway stage to surprise you with again.” He grinned, his eyes twinkling in the stage lights.

“You planned this.” Robyn turned to him. “This was your idea the whole time.”

“Well not quite. I wanted to introduce you to Hugh because I know you are a huge fan and also get you onto a Broadway stage but this is all Hugh’s idea to sing. Not mine but Robyn, do it.” He encouraged. “You know the show inside out and it is Broadway in New York and you were Mimi and may have won a teeny tiny award for that performance. I think you can handle this big stage too.”

“Hey Dan!” Hugh called out, a man popping up from the orchestra pit. “These are some friends of mine and Robyn here would tick a serious bucket list item if she got to sing on Broadway stage.” Robyn saw the look of doubt on the conductor’s face. “Trust me when I say she can sing.”

“Yeah?”

“Hmm. She has won an award for playing Mimi in her local musical society.” He echoed Taron’s words, Robyn biting her lip as he said them, her eyes on the conductor.

“Really?” Dan looked to Robyn. “Mimi?”

“Yup.” She confirmed.

“What award?” He asked, his tone a little snooty as he stood with his arms crossed.

“Best female lead, I believe Robyn, right?” Hugh said standing beside her.

“Female lead?” Dan questioned.

“Hmmm.”

“And wasn’t that from the best five performances in Ireland cariad?” Taron called out. “Won over everyone.” He said proudly.

“Amateur musical society?” Dan asked, leaning forward a little.

“Everyone starts somewhere.” Hugh replied, his own arms folded. “And the orchestra always warms up with a full song before the cast comes on.”

Dan sighed with a grunt. “We could play Out Tonight as a warm up I guess but we have no mics.”

“She won’t need a mic.” Taron pipped up walking over to take Robyn’s hand. “You got this cariad.” He lifted her hand to kiss it. “Not a bother to you.”

“Taron…” Robyn looked to him, still biting her lower lip. “This really is not a great idea. That conductor is not…”

“When will you ever get the chance to sing on a Broadway stage and you know you killed it as Mimi.” He interrupted brushing her hair behind her ear. “Show that snotty conductor what you got. I have every belief in you.”

“You just want to see me sing.”

“And those dance moves!” He winked

“Hugh!” Dan called out, seeing the producer walking away towards the wing. “If she can’t sing, I swear. We won’t have time to do it twice Hugh or start and stop.” The musical conductor raised an eyebrow. “And we do have an opening night to be concerned about. Hugh?”

Robyn and Taron looked to their left, Hugh having walked away but he was on his way back. “One microphone.” He grinned handing it Robyn. “Wanna test it for me?” He winked.

“Sure.” Robyn took the microphone and spoke into it, testing the sound system, hearing her voice echoing back. “All good.”

“Hugh, we need to get going. The cast will be out soon.”

“Robyn you happy to go ahead?” Hugh stood beside her, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I don’t think you need a warm up.”

She looked to the conductor whose face was clearly not happy at having to go along with Hugh, his smirk hitting a nerve with her and with the microphone in her right hand, nodded to Hugh. “I don’t think I will ever get the chance to sing on a Broadway stage again, so I say let’s just go for it.” She ignored Taron’s little dance beside her and kept her eyes on the conductor.

“Great. It will be good warm up for you Dan. Give the team a chance to have some fun before the show tonight.”

As soon as Hugh finished speaking, Dan moved into position and with a tap of his baton, the orchestra turned up and within seconds, the music for Out Tonight started to play. Taron slipped Robyn’s bag from over her shoulder and gave her a wink. “Kill it, dance moves and all cariad.” His voice could only be heard by Robyn and as he stepped to the side, Robyn gave herself a quick one second pep talk before she had to start singing. There was no time for nerves and even though it was Hugh Jackman standing on a Broadway stage with her, she would never ever back down when someone tried to pass her off with a smirk. She channelled all the emotion she felt into the song and knowing it was going to be her only chance to ever sing on such a stage, she closed her eyes imagining she was back in Kilcreen on stage and was determined to hit every note to make Taron proud of her and prove she could sing the shit out of Mimi’s song.

Taron could only grin as he watched Robyn literally get into her groove and giving a nod towards the seats, himself and Hugh made their way off the stage and took a seat in the third row to watch the performance. Last time he watched Robyn sing this song, he had been a bundle of emotion but now he could sit back and relax and feel nothing but pride for her.

It was a much bigger stage then she was used too and she didn’t have a fireman’s pole to slide down and her voice wasn’t warmed up, but Robyn used the opportunity to sing her heart out and pretend she was Mimi, giving her all to the song. It was strange to hear the full orchestra behind her and before she knew it the song was over and she looked to where she heard the clapping and wolf whistling, her smile growing as she saw Taron clapping his hands above his head.

“Yes cariad!” She heard him shout, another whistle coming from his lips, Robyn taking a pretend curtesy, her eyes drifting to the conductor whose smirk has completely changed, giving her nod of approval.

“Well call me impressed.” Dan said to her. “Didn’t think you had that in it.”

“Best female lead.” Robyn grinned. “And thank you for doing that for me. A moment I will remember for a very long time.” She looked to Taron. “Jane is gonna be jealous!”

“I will sign something else for her.” Taron shouted up to her.

“It is gonna have to be a piece of clothing.”

Taron chuckled. “We will work up to that.”

“We will.” Robyn agreed and her head turned to the left, when she heard more clapping, some of the cast standing in the wing of the stage.

“Hugh, you are not trying to replace us, are you?” One of them asked as they walked on stage. “Because as the understudy for Mimi, I am feeling a little threatened right now.”

“Not at all.” Hugh shouted up towards the stage. “Just a friend ticking an item off a bucket list.”

“You sure?” She asked again, coming to stand beside Robyn. “Because as much as I loved singing at the diner, I am not going back there.” She turned to Robyn. “No offence.”

Robyn grinned and held out her hand. “None taken and Hugh is right. Just a bucket list thing. I’m Robyn.”

“Emilia.” They shook hands with a chuckle. “And I mean, join our chorus by all means but…”

“Don’t worry.” Robyn assured her. “As much as I would love to be in a chorus on Broadway, I already have another role lined up.”

Emilia smiled. “Ok good, again no offence.”

Robyn laughed. “None taken.”

Hugh joined the two and other cast members who had walked onto the stage, Taron strolling behind with his hands in his pockets, his eyes stuck on Robyn. “Well, well, well.” The Australian stood with his arms folded. “I guess no warm up was needed.”

Robyn shrugged. “First and only time getting to sing on a Broadway stage.”

“Killed it cariad.” Taron stood beside her. “And excuse me, but another role lined up?” He questioned. “Want to fill me in?”

“Well, I haven’t got one yet but ya know, optimism and auditions open at the end of September for the next musical.”

“Musical?” Emilia asked. “You have my interest peaked.”

“Our local musical society, back home.” Robyn explained. “They are holding auditions for Legally Blonde at the end of month.”

Emilia’s eyes lit up. “That is a fun musical.”

“One of my favourites.”

“Ok gang. Let’s get this warm up going. Then I want to just run La Vie Boheme one more time.” The musical director appeared on stage. “Hugh, your friends are more than welcome to stay but we just gotta get going.”

Emilia looked to Robyn. “Want to join in our warm up?” She asked. “Get some tip and tricks for your audition.”

Robyn turned to Taron with a hopeful look. “Go and have fun. I am gonna catch up with Hugh.” He chuckled at her reaction. “You promised me you wouldn’t squeal.” He stepped out of her swipe towards him and with Hugh headed back down the stairs to the seats.

“So that is Robyn.” Hugh said to Taron as they sat down together, letting the cast warm up, Robyn quickly catching on to the stretches too.

“Hmm yup.”

“She can sing.”

“Yup.” Taron said again.

“You are whipped mate.”

“What?” His head turned to his friend.

“You heard me.” Hugh threw his arm around his shoulder. “Your eyes haven’t left her.”

Taron tried to shrug off Hugh’s arm, but he gave in with a sigh. “I love her.”

“She look after you?”

“In every way possible.”

“You look after her?” Hugh asked.

“In every way I can.”

“Good. She is a fire cracker.” Hugh chuckled; hearing Taron laugh too. “I like her.”

“Me too.”

“So, what are you plans then for the rest of the day.”

“Well, if I can ever drag Robyn off the stage, she would like to get a bear from FAQ Schwarz and walk around Central Park.”

Hugh laughed hard at his words. “You can bring her back tomorrow if you want. I would love to hear her sing again plus to get the smirk off Dan’s face is worth another visit.”

“Still being an ass?”

“Yeah, a bit of one but it’s just until the end of the week and Julian is back, thank goodness. Dan is great conductor but Julian cracks a joke and smiles and is a much more supportive conductor.”

“Thanks for the invite back but me and Robyn are gonna do some New York stuff tomorrow.”

“Of course. I know you want to spend your time with her.”

“When Robyn is happy, I am happy but we only have a week left together and the time is starting to go to fast now. I want to spend it all with her.”

“I get it Taron, I do.” Hugh patted his shoulder.

Both turned back to the stage listening to the warm up, Taron grinning as Robyn was right in the middle looking as if she was part of the cast. “I am never going to get her off the stage.” He chuckled.

It was easier to get Robyn off the Broadway stage then he thought it would be and as they wandered their way back towards their hotel, they walked up Fifth Avenue, taking a quick look in the FAQ Schwartz, Taron treating her to a brown furry teddy bear, both taking a turn on the large piano before heading back to their hotel.

As they turned the corner to head down the corridor for their room, Robyn took a quick glance left and right and with no one around, she gently pushed Taron against the wall beside their door, and kissed him hard, hearing his surprise at the sudden kiss.

“Thank you so much for doing that for me.” She said against his lips. “That was an unbelievable experience Taron and you know I never expect you to do anything like that for me and you know you don’t have to.”

Taron kissed her back, his hands wrapping around her waist. “I know I don’t have to and I know, that sometimes I can do those kinds of things for you because of my job but Robyn, I also do them because I know you don’t expect it or ask for it but you always appreciate it more than anything. You have never once ever even thought about using my name or fame for any kind of reward so if I can give you the opportunity to do something like sing on a Broadway stage because it will make you smile and kiss me like that, then I am going to do it plus Hugh really wanted to meet you. I know for you these are huge things and I am sure you feel that cookies are so underrated compared to that but Robyn the cookies, the corner of your couch and a head massage is the same for me as singing in the Gershwin is for you.” His hands slid into the pockets of her shorts. The weather in New York was warm and clammy, their holiday attire still getting use and he pulled her closer into him. “Me watching you sing and smile and feel what it is like to sing in New York was just as much for me as it is for you.”

Robyn cupped his cheeks and kissed him slowly. “No more mad surprises though?”

“No more.” He promised. “But I know you loved every minute of it.”

Robyn nodded. “It was amazing.”

“And it gives you all the inspiration you need now for your audition for the next musical.” He kissed her cheek, making his way around towards the right side of her neck.

“It really does.” She agreed titling her head back.

“Maybe you can audition for me?” He asked with a smirk. “Isn’t there a part in Legally Blonde where the lead character wears a bunny costume?”

Robyn giggled and was ready to answer but a loud ‘ahem’ made them both turn their heads.

“Good God is this what I am going to have to put up now that you two are together because this is really going to interrupt my red carpet preparation’s.”

#Robyn and Taron #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Fanfic #Taron Fanfiction #Love #Relationship #Dreams

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