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jamiefartt · 4 months ago

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richmond's receptionist; part three

part 1, part 2

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, whole cast is mentioned

summary: with Rebecca's charity gala rapidly approaching, Jamie tries to get you to be his date, so why not take you dress shopping?

words: 19 458

warnings: no smut but hot n steamy descriptions and def some thirsting, alcohol (pls don't mix ur drinks).

outfit references: x your dress x Keeley's dress x Rebecca's dress

———

standing in front of the small mirror hanging above your bathroom sink, you brush your fingers through your damp hair. you're dressed in your work clothes, chic pleated trousers paired with a billowy blue blouse tucked into the waistband. you sigh as you lean on the sink, the porcelain cool to the touch. you pick up your mascara from next to the sink, leaning close to the mirror and carefully brushing it onto your eyelashes. once applied, you admire the way your eyes pop, accentuated by the makeup.

normally, you would dot some blush across your cheeks, but expecting you'll be seeing Jamie at work all day, you know you won't need the added flush of colour.

adding a tint of red to your lips, you begin doing your hair, masterfully tying it up into a half-up half-down hairstyle. you pucker your lips in the mirror, turning your head side to side to make sure everything is in place. a smile appears on your face, your confidence surging as you look at yourself.

as much as you're getting ready for yourself, you can't help but imagine the look on Jamie's face when he sees you today, especially after the teasing trick you pulled on him yesterday evening. of course you always try to look good at work, but the added effort is worth it for the potential to make the Jamie Tartt even a little bit flustered.

the music playing through your cozy apartment is interrupted by your phone ringing, and you rush from the bathroom to turn it off, toothbrush still in your mouth. seeing Keeley's name written across your screen, you answer, and the call opens onto her sitting at her vanity doing her own makeup.

"hey babe," she says, mouth agape in an O-shape as she curls her eyelashes. she's wrapped in her fluffy pink dressing gown and has matching coloured hair curlers wrapped in her locks.

"good morning, y/n." Roy speaks from the plush sofa behind her. in contrast to Keeley, he's fully dressed, leather jacket and all.

you wave at the couple, walking back to the bathroom to rinse your mouth. once the toothbrush and suds are down the drain, you can finally say: "hey guys! how are things?"

Roy says nothing, only giving you a thumbs up as he keeps his eyes on the book he's reading. back in your bedroom, you place your phone on the bed as you begin sliding on your staple jewellery.

"great! now, listen y/n, Rebecca's charity gala is this weekend and we need to get you a dress," Keeley says sternly, now putting on mascara.

"oh– I'm sure I have a dress in my closet somewhere," you say, turning and opening your cupboard to see if you have anything adequate.

Keeley bursts into a cackle, catching you off guard; "no, no, you need something new... something expensive and rich that will blow Jamie's socks off! or, you know, you could do that."

"oh my God, Keeley!" you shriek, your mouth flying open at her words. her laugh echoes loudly through your phone and you can't help but giggle along with her. picking up your phone, you head to your living room, grabbing your handbag from the sofa before heading to the front door.

Keeley continues explaining as you struggle to slip on your shoes with your free hand whilst holding your phone and your bag in the other; "I've booked you an appointment for tomorrow at a dress boutique in town. I can go with you if you'd like, just let me know."

"oh wow, that's amazing. thank you so so much!" with your flats slipped on, you pick up your work heels and shove them in your bag. you pant a breath before clicking open your door and heading out to your hallway. your voice echoes as you head into the stairwell of your apartment building; "are you sure, Keeley? I mean, it seems a bit excessive and I doubt I could afford anything too exp–"

"where the fuck are you?" Keeley interrupts you, peering at her phone screen with squinted eyes.

"I'm leaving my place, I like taking the stairs." you shrug in response.

"ooh, is that how you keep your glutes so tight then?" she sticks her tongue out at you playfully, and you laugh at her words.

"shut up," you reply and playfully roll your eyes.

"anyway," Keeley continues, "don't worry about the price, Rebecca said she'd cover it."

your eyes blow wide open, and you almost tumble down the stairs in shock; "what?! no, absolutely not!"

"hush, y/n, I don't wanna hear it. we're gonna make you look the sexiest you ever have in your life!"

finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, having descended 4 whole floors, you push through the double doors leading to the small car park outside. passing straight past your beaten-up old car, you walk onto the footpath.

"Keeley, I really don't think I can accept that,"

"are you walking to work?" she says, ignoring your sentiment. you shake your head a little, surprised by her question.

"yeah?"

"why?"

"because I like to walk."

"Keeley–" Roy begins, but Keeley interrupts him, "okay, y/n, gotta go. see you at work!"

before you can say bye, your phone beeps, and the screen goes black. you stop in your tracks, staring down at your phone. quickly typing in your password, you go to check your texts.

"oi!" someone shouts to you, and the fright almost makes you drop your phone. a hand flies to your chest as you look up, not at all expecting who you see.

"Isaac?" you ask, leaning down to look through his car window.

"get in. lemme give you a lift." he says before pressing a button on his dashboard. the passenger door suddenly opens, and your eyebrows raise at his evidently very expensive sports car.

without a word, you drop your phone into your handbag and walk around the car, slipping into the passenger seat.

"thanks, Isaac." you smile at him, and surprisingly, he cracks a wide, toothy one back at you. the sight makes you smile even more, and you wonder if you're bond with the Richmond players is going beyond just Jamie.

"were you walking to work?" he asks you, pushing his foot to the gas pedal and continuing down the road.

"yeah?"

"why?"

"because I like– why is that so shocking?"

your frustration evident in your voice, Isaac glances at you with a scared expression. "I was just asking," he mutters, and you sigh in exaggerated annoyance with a smile before turning your head to look out the car window. you settle into a few seconds of silence, just admiring the view of Richmond's greenery as you drive. music plays quietly through Isaac's speakers, and you enjoy the peaceful company.

"Isaac?" you ask, still staring out the window.

"yeah?" he replies gently.

"has Jamie ever mentioned me at training or anything?"

Isaac chuckles to himself, thinking for a moment before replying: "he doesn't talk about you really, but he does ask about you."

"what do you mean?" you turn to look at him, placing your elbow on the door and playing with your hair.

"like, when Keeley comes in to do promo with us, he'll hang back to ask her questions about you."

"like what?" you feel a blush appear on your face as you get shy at the thought.

"a few weeks ago, when the sign-in thing started, he asked her how long you'd worked at Richmond. then a few days later, he asked her if you were single."

"really?" you laugh, "what a slag."

Isaac laughs with you, shaking his head; "truer words have never been spoken,"

a few beats pass as your laughter dies down, and the thought of Jamie being so curious about you surprises you. he always acts so cool and unbothered, and you've only seen him soften a few times, so knowing he still thought about you before you'd even properly spoken warms something in your chest.

"but, y/n, I do wanna say..." Isaac keeps his eyes on the road as his voice softens, "whatever it is Jamie feels towards you, it's clearly something real. since you two have been doing this thing, he's been kinder, not just to us but also himself. I don't know how you got through to him, but whatever it is please don't stop. we've all seen the way he looks at you, he really likes you, mate."

lips parted and eyes wide, your gaze is fixed on the road in front of you. you're speechless, and all that's going through your mind is Jamie; how he looks at you, how he touches you, his scent and the feeling of his lips brushing past yours. before you can think of anything to say, Isaac pulls into the Richmond car park. he parks his car smoothly, slotting it next to Colin's dented Lamborghini.

"look, you don't have to tell me how you feel about him, but try not to break his heart too much if you have to." Isaac says, turning to look at you.

you nod a few times, clicking open your seatbelt before looking up at him through your eyelashes; "Isaac," you say, "I'm way too into him to break his heart."

he squints at you, obviously suppressing a smile, and he presses the buttons to open your doors.

"cheers, bruv." he nods at you.

"thanks for the lift, Isaac." you nod at him too.

both of you exit the car without another word, and you hurry in the door so you can get started with your day. unsurprisingly, Colin is already inside standing at your desk.

"good morning, y/n." he smiles at you.

"hey, Colin. sorry I'm late!" you hop behind the desk and sit in your chair, quickly changing your flats into your heels. you take the sign-in clipboard from atop the desk, only to notice you don't need to change its pages at all.

"oh," you say before putting it back in its place, "can I help you with anything Colin?"

you expect Colin to answer, but he stays silent as Isaac squeezes past him and signs in. you stare at him expectantly, and Colin just looks at you nervously until Isaac is walking down the hallway.

"are you okay?" you ask him quietly, leaning closer to him. he glances around suspiciously, making sure the coast is clear and Isaac is out of earshot.

"yeah, I just need your advice on something."

"hit me," you smile.

"I've been seeing this guy for maybe... two or three months? and I'm not sure if it's too soon to invite him to the gala this weekend."

"oh my God, Colin! that's so exciting! I'd say go for it, it's definitely not too soon." you assure him, smiling wide. his face mirrors yours and a blush appears on his cheeks.

"okay, great, thanks y/n!" he says before jogging down the hallway and to the locker room.

you smile to yourself, wondering when you became his go-to for advice. you won't complain, you're happy to make friends with the Richmond players.

"what's he so happy about?" Jamie's voice pipes up beside you as he places a coffee cup on your desk, watching as Colin borderline skips his way through the building.

you smile at him, picking up the cup. before it reaches your lips you look up at him with a sceptical look; "this isn't gonna be fucking green tea again is it?"

"don't worry, love." he assures you, sending you a wink as he finishes signing in. placing his elbow on your desk, he leans against it casually, smirking down at you. you furrow your brows, slightly suspicious of his intentions after the morning before. taking a sip, you're pleasantly delighted at the taste, although he didn't bring you a latte.

"hot chocolate?" you smile up at Jamie.

"yeah..." he says, eyes soft and smile genuine, "with a shot of whiskey."

your face drops suddenly as the aloholic aftertaste hits your throat. your nostrils flare as hot anger fills your veins, and you stand up from your seat in shock; "Jamie! what the fuck?!"

Jamie sticks his tongue out and cackles, slapping a hand to your desk before running backwards down the hallway. as you stand behind your desk, breath heaving, he blows you a kiss.

frustrated, you roll your eyes and grunt, sitting down again. you pick up your cup, lifting the lid and bringing it to your face. you inhale, instantly smelling the whiskey in the drink. with a gag, you push the lid back on, putting the cup far away from you on your desk. a grimace paints your face as you try to swallow the flavour away, but the gross liquid feels coated down your throat.

"y/n!" Keeley exclaims, excitement painted on her face as if you hadn't been speaking just this morning, "what's wrong with your face?"

"Jamie put whiskey in my fucking hot chocolate." you whine, rolling your eyes again.

"oooh, lemme have a sip," she says, holding her palms together as a plea.

"I don't think he'll ever bring me an actual latte ever again," your lips pout as you slump back in your chair.

Keeley ignores your complaint, quickly scribbling down her name before saying: "your fitting appointment is tomorrow at 6:30 after work. let me know if you'd like me to join!"

"thank you so much Keeley but I don't want to take Rebecca's money just for a dress,"

"it's not just a dress, y/n, it's a gown." she presses.

Rebecca's heels click into the building as if on cue, and she smiles wide at the two of you as she approaches.

"Rebecca! please tell y/n you don't mind buying her a dress for the gala." Keeley sighs.

"I thought you just said it was a gown, not a dress." you tease, and she rolls her eyes at you in response.

"oh, don't be silly! of course I don't care – in fact, I actively want to. can't have my employees looking cheap, now can I?" Rebecca states in a cocky tone, picking up the pen and signing in.

you look at her with an grateful look; "thank you, Rebecca, seriously."

she shoots you a wink before saying: "don't worry about it. we need you looking good for Jamie, don't we?" you can't help but blush at her words, overwhelmed by the gracious gift.

"my hair stylist and the girl who does my makeup is coming over to mine after work on Friday, we should all get ready together!" Keeley says, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

"that sounds lovely!" you say.

"I'll be there." Rebecca adds.

Keeley squeals as she waves; "see you later, girls!"

Rebecca smiles at you with a nod before walking to her office, and your excitement for the gala has finally kicked in. you think to yourself; an event where everyone is dressed up to the nines, with music and an open bar? what could go wrong?

—

the next day, as you make yourself a latte in the staff room, you're surprised by two strong hands suddenly gripping your shoulders. two thumbs dig into your skin, massaging the taught muscles.

"Jesus woman, why are you so tense?" Jamie whispers in your ear, lips grazing your skin.

your eyes flutter as you struggle to keep them open, the pressure of his fingers instantly relaxing you. you smile to yourself, dropping your head back, leaning against his shoulder.

"I would be a lot more relaxed if my morning coffee wasn't such a fucking gamble every day," you joke, looking up at him through your eyelashes, "mouthwash, Jamie... really?"

Jamie chuckles to himself, smiling at his own prank. using his grip on your shoulders, he lifts you off his shoulder, spinning you around to face him. his hands rest on your hips, pulling you close to him. standing chest to chest, you can smell his cologne, woody and rich on your senses.

"you smell nice," you say absentmindedly, not thinking before speaking the thought out loud.

"ya think so? cheers, it's Tom Ford." he says with a cheeky wink, clearly bragging.

rolling your eyes, you cock your head to the side. when you look up at him again, his face holds an expression you haven't seen before. his pupils are blown wide and a small smile sits on his pouty lips.

"what?" you ask, a smile creeping onto your face too.

"nothin'" Jamie mumbles, and you can feel his thumbs rubbing up and down your sides. his eyes move to your lips, and you blush in response. nervously, you fill your cheeks with air and purse your lips as he stares at them. he chuckles at your funny face, quickly leaning down and pecking your lips. the kiss makes you drop the expression, and his eyes finally meet yours again. you raise your eyebrows and pull your head back, and his grin grows at your surprised eyes.

"what?" he says nonchalantly.

"nothin'" you say with a fake deep voice, mocking him.

as he laughs, Jamie moves one of the hands from your waist to your back, sliding it up your spine. when he gets to your hair, he wraps his fingers around the long strands and tugs lightly, tilting your chin up. your eyes threaten to close again, and your heartbeat quickens as Jamie's eyes darken.

"wanna kiss me properly Tartt?" you whisper, teasing him with a smile.

taking a few painfully long seconds to drag his eyes over every inch of your face, he eventually drops the hand from your hair. his other hand leaves your waist as he takes a step away from you. as he spins on his heel to leave he says: "you wish."

you tsk at him, rolling your eyes while shaking your head. turning to the beeping coffee machine, your mouth speaks before your brain thinks; "Jamie," you call after him, turning back around. he reappears in the doorway in merely a split second, hand resting on the doorframe as he looks at you with raised eyebrows. "I have to go buy a dress for the gala after work and I need a lift... would you mind coming with me?"

Jamie's eyebrows relax, but his eyes widen as he stares at you, blank expression on his face. you can't read what he's thinking, immediately regretting your question: "if you can't, that's fine, I just–".

"yes." he breathes, "yes, yeah, course I'll go with ya,"

you smile at him shyly, and his straight face turns into a smiling one as he mirrors you. you nod at him as a silent thanks, and he nods back before making his way back to training. taking your cup from the machine, you smile to yourself. as you pour a sugar packet into it, you shake your head, wondering how you got into this game with Jamie in the first place.

as the time approaches six o'clock, you wait impatiently for the Richmond team to sign out. as your colleagues say goodbye and sign their names, you politely smile and chat to them, and by the time the players make their way through the hallway, you're halfway out of your chair. standing up, you pick up your handbag and shove your things into it.

"you in a hurry, y/n?" Sam laughs.

"going on another date with Tartt?" Colin adds.

"leave the two love birds alone, bruv." Isaac says, picking up a pen and signing himself out. Sam takes the pen next and does the same before passing it to Colin.

from behind the large group of players all waiting to leave, Jamie appears in his regular clothes. wearing a blue hoodie with grey jeans, you admire how simple his outfit is.

"Hughes, sign me out there would ya?" Jamie calls, heading straight for the door. he brings the pendant of his gold chain to sit between his teeth as he grins at you, eyes lingering on your white top.

he cocks his head towards the door with a curt nod; "shall we?"

the players all erupt in teasing oohs and cheers at Jamie's shameless flirting, and the excitement makes you laugh. you step down from the desk, pushing your bag onto your shoulder. Jamie walks through the door ahead of you, holding it open for you to walk through. before you go, you turn back to the group of players and blow them a kiss, making them shout even louder, jumping up and down and slapping each other's shoulders. you cackle at the dramatics, following Jamie outside.

continuing your laughter as he leads you to his car you ask him: "are they always like this?"

"sadly," he pulls open the passenger side door for you, "yes."

you drop into the seat, the plush and expensive leather comfortable beneath you. as Jamie gets into the car, you look around. there's a football shaped air freshener hanging from the mirror, and there's a small rubber duck wearing a bow tie stuck to his dashboard. his gearshift has a bracelet wrapped around the base of it, colourful wooden beads with a small heart adding a pop of colour to the black leather interior.

"didn't think I could be so intrigued by car decor," you say, and Jamie chuckles shyly as he looks around at his car.

"yeah, it's just things me mum's given me... for good luck, ya'know." the look he gives you is sincere, and you smile at the sentiment of it all.

"that's really sweet, Jamie."

he dips his head down and smiles, and you're sure you spot a blush cover his face. turning the keys in the cognition, his BMW roars to life, and you both buckle your seatbelts. you tap the address into the car's gps, grateful Keeley texted it to you without you even having to ask. as he drives out of the car park's gates, Jamie asks: "if you need a lift to this shop, how did you get to work?"

"I usually walk to work, but Isaac gave me a spontaneous lift yesterday and then picked me up again this morning," you explain, looking at the side of his face as his eyes stay fixed on the road. you watch his face morph into a confused pout.

"you walk to work?"

"yeah?"

"why?"

"what the fuck?!" you exclaim, throwing your hands in the air in frustration.

"what?!" Jamie yells back, matching your tone.

you groan, dropping your head into your hands before raking your fingers through your hair, "nothing, sorry, that's just the third time someone's asked me that."

"it's a bit weird, to be fair," Jamie shrugs.

"what? no it isn't! I swear you're all such snobs," you joke, "it's a good way to get your steps in,"

Jamie snorts, and your head snaps to the side to look at him again.

"you're such a loser," he says, shaking his head.

"as if! my phone tracks them and then I get little messages every time I do 1000 steps," you explain proudly. Jamie says nothing else, just smiles before glancing at the screen showing the directions.

the two of you sit in a comfortable silence as you watch other cars go by. sitting in Jamie's car, you can almost feel how expensive it was just by the way it glides so smoothly across the road. you try to spot similar cars at stop lights and crossroads, but somehow Jamie seems to be the only one with this fancy of a car.

"y/n?" his soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

"mhm?" you hum, looking to him.

he doesn't as much as glimpse at you, keeping his eyes forward; "how come Isaac gave you a lift?" his voice is quiet and shy when he asks. with an amused smile, you stare at him, wondering if you've imagined his reserved tone.

"Jamie?" you start, "are you... jealous?"

"pfft, what? no, why would I be?" he sputters.

"are you serious?" you ask with a giggle, and his silence speaks volumes. "Jamie..." you sigh, "the only reason Isaac gave me a lift yesterday was because he saw me walking and offered me one. this morning, he passed me again, so he stopped. it's polite to accept and, to be completely honest, I just wanted to sit in a sports car." you shrug, reassuring him.

he exhales and nods, trying to disguise his worry as a joke when he forces a chuckle; "oh, right, yeah,"

you lean closer to him, leaning your chin on his shoulder. finally, he glances down at you, smiling softly. "don't worry, Jamie. from now on, I'll only take lifts from you in your sports car."

he rolls his eyes but can't help but huff a small laugh, and you smile up at him, biting your lip. "can I turn on some music?" you ask sweetly, fluttering your eyelashes at him dramatically.

"go on then."

you squeal in excitement as you tap the screen on his dashboard, admiring the high-tech of it all. connecting your phone to his car, you press play on one of your playlists. soft music falls from the speakers, and you don't think you've ever heard your favourite songs in such good quality before. pressing a hand to the speaker on your door, you close your eyes, feeling the vibrations of the music. you fall back against the head rest, completely relaxing into Jamie's presence. he doesn't speak, letting you feel the sound in peace.

humming along to the song playing, you smile to yourself. you feel like you're floating as the car drives smoothly over the roads to the boutique. Jamie's a surprisingly gentle driver, never hitting his brake too hard and not swerving around bends. dropping your hand from the speaker, you start picking up on the sound of Jamie's movements. his breathing is steady, and you can hear him absentmindedly sigh every so often. you hear his hands run over the steering wheel when he takes a turn, and the sound soothes you. driving with Jamie makes him feel so human. usually only seeing him in the context of football, you feel like you know athlete Jamie more than person Jamie, despite your date last weekend. the date was amazing, and you learnt so much about him, but sitting in silence with him is a big difference to your usual constant banter.

after the car drives over a bump, you feel the car slow to a halt and the music stop, presuming you've arrived.

"y/n?" Jamie whispers gently, and you've never heard his voice so quiet. the other times he's whispered to you it was definitely not this sweet and soft, and the sound warms your heart.

when you turn your head towards him and open your eyes, he's unexpectedly close to you. with his elbow on the armrest between you, Jamie holds himself a few inches away from you. his gaze softens when you look at him, your eyes wide and amused.

"we're here," he whispers in the same gentle tone, nodding his head towards the windshield. your eyes don't leave each other's as you breathe in deeply. the smell of his cologne fills your sense again, now mixed with fresh conditioner and a slight hint of lavender. you yearn to be closer to him, and you have to fight the urge to wrap an arm around his neck and pull him into you.

instead, you let your eyes drop to his lips before quickly looking away, staring out the window at the shop in front of you. you feel Jamie's eyes on you for a few more seconds before he peels them off of your face, looking down at his hands awkwardly. facing him again, you smile nervously before leaning over the center console and pressing a quick kiss to his soft cheek. his head snaps up at the feeling and when he turns to you, he's blushing a deep pink.

"let's go then," you say, sighing and picking up your bag from between your legs, placing it on your lap. Jamie jumps out of the car, rushing over to the passenger side to open your door for you. one hand holding the door out of your way, his other hand reaches out for you to take. you place your hand in his, and he helps you stand up from the car – not that you need it, but you'll never say to no to some princess treatment.

"thank you, Jamie." you smiled at him.

"you're welcome, y/n." he says as he closes the car door behind you.

you approach the small shop, stopping by its window to admire some of the dresses on display; "oh my goodness," you breathe, "these are gorgeous!" your excitement doubles as you look back at Jamie.

his eyes are fixed on you as he breathes: "yeah... gorgeous,"

your heart rate speeds up suddenly, noticing the way his pupils are wide again, just like in the staff room earlier. your mouth opens, desperately trying to breathe in more air, but you get lost in his gaze. he definitely isn't talking about the dresses.

you swallow and try to snap out of it; "okay, Jamie, I'll see you tomorrow."

"what?" he says quickly, expression faltering and you can almost see his heart break in his face. you furrow your brows and repeat after him; "what?"

he stands up straight, suddenly acting uncharacteristically awkward as he fidgets with his car keys. attempting nonchalance, he shakes his head and looks away from you.

"I mean, I just thought I'd go in with you, ya'know... you might need a second opinion or something," he says quickly, scratching the back of his neck while he looks anywhere but at you.

you chuckle at his silly sheepishness, saying nothing before reaching out for his hand, taking it in yours. a blush appears on your face, and you turn and pull him into the boutique with you.

"good evening!" a squeaky voice chirps, and you can't see the person it came from. your hand still clutches Jamie's, and he holds yours tighter as you both look around. you're overwhelmed by the amount of gowns strung along racks against each wall, and your mouth hangs open as you run your free hand along the fabrics.

"phew! sorry about that, I'm here!" the voice speaks again, and when you turn around, a small blonde woman appears from behind an equally small counter.

"hiya," you speak politely, "uhm, my name is y/n. I think my friend Keeley made an appointment for me."

"ah! Keeley Jones! she's one amazing firecracker, isn't she?" the woman says with a smile, "now, where are my glasses?" she thinks to herself. her curly blonde hair is half pinned up, and her bright red glasses sit on top of her head. you're not sure whether to say something or not, watching her pick up and move stacks of paper on the counter as she searches. Jamie squeezes your hand, and you turn around to look at him. he lifts his pointer finger to his mouth and shakes his head, smiling at you. you smile up at him, taking note of what he means, but decide to do the right thing.

"sorry, I think they're on your head?" you say as politely as possible.

"oh! thank you, darling." she smiles at you before reaching out a hand and introducing herself; "I'm Sarah, it's so lovely to meet you, y/n,"

you drop Jamie's hand to shake Sarah's, which makes her notice his presence.

"and you are?" she asks, holding a hand out for him too.

"I'm Jamie," he smiles, shaking her hand with his right and covering the back of her hand with his left.

"such a sweet thing," Sarah smiles, "you're a lucky girl." she says, looking at you.

Jamie turns to you, letting go of her hand, raising his eyebrows at you with a teasing grin. you roll your eyes at him, ignoring Sarah's comment.

"right–", she says, pushing her glasses back into her hair and moving across the boutique towards a rack of dresses, "what are you looking for today?"

"well, I'm going to this big fancy gala on Friday and I need–"

"something blue." Jamie interrupts, hands politely held behind his back as he smiles at Sarah, avoiding your confused face.

"perfect! let me take some measurements and I'll get you set up. follow me, love. Jamie, you can wait here, take a seat." Sarah's excited, and completely oblivious to your surprise at Jamie's words, as she leads you through a curtain at the back of the shop. you glance back at Jamie over your shoulder, and he winks at you as he sits down on a velvet purple sofa.

the room you walk in is small, but tidy and chic. there's a large mirror covering one of the walls, and the carpet is white and shaggy. it seems to be one big dressing room, and it looks completely different to where Jamie is waiting for you. there's an iced window opposite you, allowing for natural light to flood the cream walls.

"he said something blue, is that right?" Sarah asks, handing you some kind of unitard which matches your skin tone.

"uhm, I guess, yeah," you say, agreeing to Jamie's suggestion. you're not sure why he said it, but it gives you more inspiration than you had when you arrived to the boutique.

"okay, darling. go slip on this little bodysuit behind the curtain over there and I'll be back to measure you whenever you're ready." Sarah smiles politely, guiding you towards a small but tall booth in the corner of the room.

once you've changed, wearing nothing but the skin tight playsuit, you call for Sarah. the carpet is soft under your bare feet as you admire yourself in the mirror. you run your fingers through your hair, adding some volume into it as you smile at your reflection. soon after, Sarah pushes a rack of dresses into the room.

"you haven't even measured me yet?" you laugh at the amount of fabric hiding her small frame.

"don't worry, angel, I've got a good eye for this stuff," she says with a strained voice, struggling to push the wheels over the carpet. you rush over to help her, pulling the opposite side further into the room. there's a variety of different shades of blue and fabrics on the rack; there's silk, satin, and chiffon, and you admire the way some of the rhinestones sparkle under the light.

"these are beautiful, woah..." you say, looking through the dresses.

"we have plenty of time to play dress-up later! let's get you measured," Sarah says, slipping on her glasses and taking the measuring tape from around her neck.

as you move to stand on a small platform in front of the mirror, music starts playing from the shop's speakers. you instantly recognise it as one of the songs you played in the car ride with Jamie. you blush, chuckling to yourself.

"did Jamie turn this music on?" you ask, looking at Sarah in the mirror.

"he did," she says, quickly scribbling down the length of your leg into her notebook, "he asked if he could connect his phone. he's a very nice man, very charming,"

you huff, a smile creeping up your face, "hmpf, isn't he?"

"how long have you two been together?" she asks you absentmindedly. the question makes you shake your head and sputter out your words; "oh, no, no, we're not together,"

"really?" she asks, "I thought I saw you two holding hands when you walked in,"

"it's complicated," you explain vaguely.

"oh sweetheart, there's nothing complicated about the way he looks at you," Sarah says quietly, and her statement stuns you, "he helped me choose these dresses for you by the way, I already know his favourite one."

not sure how to process her words, you turn your head to the rack of dresses, trying to guess which one he likes the most. your chest grows warm at the thought of Jamie's waiting for you in the next room, listening to a song you like, picking out dresses for you. with a blush on your face, you start to realise what Isaac meant; Jamie can be exceptionally kind.

"all done, my love! now, pick whichever ones you want to try on and if they need any tailoring, I can get that done for you before Friday." Sarah brushes strands of hair out of her face, standing up straight and pointing to the rack of gowns.

you look at her with kind eyes and smile; "thank you, Sarah,"

"now, I'll be just out there taking care of your friend, but just gimme a shout if you need help with a zip or anything." she winks at you before heading through the curtain into the boutique.

you take a deep breath, trying to focus on the sound of the music playing through the room. either Jamie has exceptionally good taste, or he's found your spotify account and has turned on the same playlist you played in his car.

trying on a navy dress, you spin around in the mirror. nice bodice, but ugly tule sleeves. you take a turquoise gown from the rack, deciding against it before even trying it on simply due to its big frilly skirt. next, you pull out a dress the brightest shade of blue, and try it on for fun, just to see Jamie's reaction. you pull aside the curtain into the shop before stepping through.

Jamie's hands fly to his mouth, biting back a laugh. you do the same, rolling your lips into your mouth to avoid a cackle from escaping. the dress is made of polyester, and is covered in sheer tule with big plastic diamonds.

"oh... babe," Sarah says awkwardly, grimacing.

"Jamie?" you say, still holding back a laugh.

"you look... absolutely stunnin'" he forces, face morphing into an almost painful expression.

a few beats of silence pass, before the three of you burst into loud and boisterous laughter. Jamie clutches his stomach in laughter, while Sarah covers her mouth the hide her amusement. you stop your laughing and pretend to look offended; "what? you don't like it?" you smile at Jamie. he digs his phone out of his pocket before holding it up proudly.

"go on, do a twirl," he says, filming you as you do what he asks. you laugh at the antics, holding up the skirt and curtsying. you blow a kiss to his camera and close your eyes, smiling sweetly.

"fuckin' beautiful," Jamie mutters, and he sounds more sincere than the jokey tone he had used before. you pretend you didn't hear it, taking a dramatic bow before disappearing into the changing room again.

laughing to yourself, you tug off the dress, appreciating the little ribbons Sarah has tied onto each dress' zip, allowing you to easily reach back and pull it down yourself. you take your time trying on three more dresses, and as much as you look like a princess, you don't feel like one just yet.

the final dress on the rack is a sequined baby blue one, and you're unsure of its boldness before you even put it on. you take it off the hanger, undoing the zip and stepping into it. pulling the skinny pink spaghetti straps over your shoulders, you feel the soft inner lining of the dress tickle your legs. all the dresses you had tried on were floor length, but this one falls three quarters down your legs, ending a few inches above your ankles.

reaching back, your hand searches for the ribbon in order to zip up the dress, but you can't seem to find it. turning around in the mirror, you stretch your neck to see it's missing.

"fuck," you whisper to yourself, desperately trying to fold your arm back and zip it up, but to no avail.

"Sarah?" you call, but she doesn't answer.

"eh, she's gone upstairs to her workshop for a minute. is everythin' alright?" Jamie replies. you hang your head, taking in a deep breath.

"could you come help me zip up my dress please?" you say, eyes to the ceiling as you dread Jamie's entrance. a knot grows in your stomach; you wanted Jamie to see the dress on Friday, after getting all dolled up, not when you're barefoot in a dressing room with your hair messy.

"yeah, sure, of course," he mutters, his voice coming closer through the curtain. pushing it open, he covers his eyes with his hand; "you decent?"

"yes, Jamie, just come in." you sigh, hand clutching the back of the dress as you stand on your tippy toes, mimicking the effect your heels will have on the outfit.

"alright, alright, just–" Jamie stops mid sentence. you look over at him, and his face bares a look of pure admiration. his pouty lips are parted, eyes wide and glossy under the light. eyebrows raised, his arms hang limp by his sides, and his chest rises and falls noticeably with his shallow breaths.

you don't speak, your face holding an embarrassed expression as you turn your back towards Jamie; "please," you squeak quietly.

he inhales a shaky breath before saying: "yeah, sorry, yeah,"

avoiding looking at him, you wait impatiently for the feeling of his body behind you. you hear his uneven breaths first as he stands behind you. fully aware he's blushing, you can't help but wish you had turned to the mirror, then you could at least see his expression as his hands carefully clutch the bottom of the zip, right above your ass. seeing the red tint on his face would make you feel a lot better about your half-assed appearance. his fingers brush the arch of your back as he pulls the zip up the length of your back, as his other hand rests on your waist. when he nears the top, his hand leaves your waist to brush your hair over your shoulder and out of the way. as the dress tightens around you, one of the straps slip from your shoulder.

as soon as the dress is secured, you turn towards the mirror again, lifting yourself onto your toes. the shiny fabric hugs your frame tightly, accentuating the curve of your hips and pushing up your chest ever so slightly. you hear Jamie gulp, and your eyes move to look at him in the reflection of the mirror. his eyes don't meet yours, however, as they're glued to your back and shoulders. he carries his gaze across your shoulder blades, slowly lifting a hand to your arm, gently sliding the thin strap up to your shoulder again. his breathing still sounds heavy in your ear, and his fingers linger on the exposed nape of your neck.

Jamie finally lets his eyes glance up to meet yours, and your breath hitches in your throat. his eyes are dark, not with lust or intoxication the way you've seen before, but with something else – something indecipherable. he holds your eye contact while his fingers continue their path over your skin. he brings them down to your shoulder before dragging them back up to your neck. trailing them down your spine, he follows the shape of your shoulder blades, drawing absentminded shapes on them. goosebumps appear on your skin, and you bring your hands up your torso nervously. the slight scratch of the sequins on your palms grounds you, and your eyes trail over your body. Jamie settles both hands on your waist again, and you drag your hands up over your stomach, to your ribcage, before sliding over your chest. you bring them back down, fingers smoothing the sparkles on your thighs.

when your eyes flick up to look at Jamie, you're surprised to see him staring at your eyes already. his cheeks are flushed, but he's managed to close his mouth for the first time since he opened the dressing room curtain. his hands drop from your waist, and he reaches up to bring your hair back off your shoulder before taking a step away from you. Jamie's eyes are sincere as he finally speaks: "y/n..."

"mhm?" you hum, turning to the side to admire the back of the dress in the tall mirror.

"I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you in my entire life." he says firmly, face unwavering as he looks you dead in the eye in the mirror.

you soften at his words, sighing as you tilt your head. he flashes you a small smile as you stare at his reflection. looking at you sheepishly, it's almost like he doesn't know the words he just spoke went straight to your heart – as if the look in his eyes didn't scream love.

turning around quickly, your breath is shallow as you hold his eye contact. his eyes drop to your lips and yours do the same, and soon enough you're stepping closer to him. peering up at him through your eyelashes, your eyes stay wide, and he looks at you expectantly. his eyes flick down to glance at your lips once more, but this time, your eyes stay fixed on his. the longer you stare at him, the more you feel your eyes gloss over. the sweet smile on his face doesn't fall, and you shake your head as you finally grin back.

standing up on your tippy toes, you throw your arms around his neck and hold him tightly. his strong arms wrap around your waist, placing one of his palms flat on the middle of your back. you sigh as you press your face into his neck, and you hear him exhale deeply as he holds you impossibly closer.

you breathe in his skin, feeling his hair tickle your cheek. Jamie groans into your neck, squeezing you so tight your feet lift an inch off the ground. you giggle into his neck, lifting your head up and back to look at him. he moves his head off your shoulder too, keeping your feet off the ground.

"is this your favourite dress then?" you tease him with a smile.

"definitely." he nods his head eagerly, eyes focused on your mouth. you bite your lip nervously, the way you always do when you notice him staring at them.

"what?" you ask sweetly, moving your head to the side in an attempt to get him to look you in the eye again.

"will you be my date to the gala?" he says quickly, eyes back on yours. his face breaks out in a large grin as you raise your eyebrows at him.

you look up, as if deep in thought, before furrowing your brows and pouting; "uuuhm... no." you state. Jamie's happy face immediately drops into a pouty, confused expression.

before he can contest your answer, you quickly peck his frowning lips, taking him aback all over again. kicking your feet, you laugh out loud; "okay, put me down now. I need to go pay for this dress."

—

looking at your reflection in Keeley's vanity mirror, you absolutely adore who's staring back at you. your hair is curled to perfection, pinned up in the classier version of a messy bun. loose strands frame your face and make the hairstyle look naturally effortless, despite it having taken 40 minutes to perfect. your eyelids sparkle with a slight dusty pink colour. skin looking filter smooth, you admire the way the light bounces off your cheekbones after Keeley's makeup artist fanned some highlighter on them.

she's behind you on the pink sofa, painting her toe nails, whilst Rebecca is next to her on her phone. you had agreed to all get ready together but Rebecca, picky as ever, arrived completely dressed up, having already had her stylist get her ready.

leaning close to the mirror, you screw open your shiny pink lip gloss before lathering it on your lips. you pop them together before puckering them in the mirror, making a kissy noise. Keeley laughs at the sound, and when you turn around, a mischievous grin grows on her face; "look at you with your lip gloss! Jamie and y/n sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!"

the three of you share a big laugh as you stand up from the chair, the pink robe Keeley lent you keeping you cosy as you get ready.

"okay, time for my dress!" you sing, and Keeley squeals.

"I can't wait to see it," Rebecca says sweetly. you tilt your head, looking at her with kind eyes;

"thanks again, Rebecca, I don't think I can ever repay you for this favour,"

"shut up and get dressed!" Rebecca shouts, waving a hand to dismiss you.

"aah! okay!" you shout back, running into Keeley's bedroom, dress bag folded over your arm.

putting it on is easier this time, having tied your own ribbon onto the zip. you look at your reflection in the bedroom mirror, and you can't believe this is you. the dress fits you like a glove, and is still the most comfortable thing you've ever worn. the fabric is flowy around your legs, and tightens to hug your body around your hips. your pinned up hair shows off your clavicle, and the framing front pieces make your face look chiseled as ever. sitting on the bed, you slip your feet into your light pink heels, the platform pumps adding an extra two inches to your height. as you buckle them up, you can finally say you truly do feel like a princess.

"ready?" you call, cracking open the door out of the bedroom.

"yes!" Keeley and Rebecca both say at the same time, excitement evident in their voices.

you step out of the room, letting out a deep breath. there's no reason to be, but you're nervous. you hold your head up, imagining Jamie sitting in that room, and you're suddenly filled with a newfound confidence. taking long strides, you walk into the next room. stepping in front of Keeley and Rebecca, you smile wide. both of them are dead silent, staring at you with blank expressions. you do a twirl, hoping to pull a reaction from them, but when you face them again, you still get nothing. smile slowly fading, your brows furrow.

"is there something wrong?" you say, holding out your hands in confusion.

Keeley and Rebecca shake their heads in sync, and the latter finally speaks up; "not at all, y/n, wow,"

"Jamie-" Keeley starts, life re-entering her eyes, "is... going to..." she jumps up in the air as she screams "DIE!"

she runs over to you and hugs you as you cackle at their theatrics; "you look fucking amazing!" Keeley squeals.

you look at Rebecca as you squeeze Keeley's arm, and the smile she gives you feels warm and sincere. she doesn't need to tell you what she thinks, you can read it in her face. you mouth the words 'thank you' to her one last time, and she blows you a kiss.

"let's get going!" letting go of you, Keeley runs to the mirror to quickly check her makeup. you move towards the sofa, picking up your clutch bag and slipping your phone and lip gloss into it. Rebecca stands up, brushing down her outfit. her red dress highlights her long legs, and her pinned up hair makes her look even taller than she is. turning your back to her, she kindly helps you take the ribbon off your zip. Keeley's hair cascades over her shoulder in waves, and her black corset fits perfectly over a big pink silk skirt.

"we look so good," you turn to them, smiling wide before heading for the front door.

you all slip into the back of the slick black limousine Rebecca organised for the three of you, and you waste no time in popping open the complimentary champagne.

each of you have a flute in hand as you sing along to the music playing. Keeley holds up her phone to take selfies and pictures of all of you, together as well as posing on your own. laughing and cheering, you hype each other up as you show the camera your best faces. three champagne flutes down and your cheeks feel hot, the alcohol rushing through your veins.

"oh by the way, y/n, you'll be sitting at a table with me and Keeley tonight." Rebecca smiles as she takes a sip of her drink. your eyebrows arch in surprise, and you mirror her as you bring the glass flute to your lips.

"yeah, we didn't want you sitting with random staff," Keeley adds.

"I'm surprised you didn't put me at a table with Jamie," you say.

Rebecca wags her pointer finger at you; "hm, no, see that wouldn't really be playing the game, would it?"

"if you're sitting at the same table, there's no longing, no yearning, no sexual tension!" Keeley explains, grunting the last words as she balls her fists in front of her and shakes them.

"exactly!" Rebecca continues, "our table is in front of his, which means that each time he looks at the stage, his eyes have to pass you, which they obviously won't and he'll probably sit there all night staring at you until you notice him" she states matter of factly.

"you guys..." you drawl, "this is so lovely, but at this point I'll just want jump his bones the minute I see him. I've been holding off for so long!"

"I promise it's worth it... believe me, it's all about the wait." Keeley says, placing a firm hand on your knee and squeezing it in reassurance. "Rebecca knows all about it," she continues, "she's put Sam behind us as well, at the same table as Jamie."

gasping at her, you let out a small scream; "Rebecca! you're going to try pick things up with him again?!" she rolls her eyes at you and Keeley, but still smirks slyly. the three of you holler and laugh, drowning out the music with your noise. your stomach twists in nerves and excitement, not at all knowing what to expect from tonight. whatever happens, you have to try to resist the one thing you've been thinking about for weeks; let's see how hard he's going to make that.

—

the limousine finally comes to a halt at the Richmond Theatre, and the flashing cameras already catch your eye. the driver steps out, walking over and opening the car door for you, Keeley, and Rebecca. one by one, you exit the stretch, giving each other hands to help the other up.

the red carpet is rolled out from the end of the stoop, all the way up over the stairs into the venue. there's a backdrop set up for photographs displaying an array of sponsors including bantr and KBPR. Sam and Isaac pose in front of the cameras, standing a few feet from one another.

"Jerry! Dave! it's so good to see you guys again! make sure to get my good side this year," Sam points at the group of photographers, choosing for a simple wide smile. Isaac on the other hand, has his hands together in a prayer pose, face emotionless. "don't forget the shoes," Isaac says to the cameras, "make sure you get the shoes, bruv." he reiterates bluntly, pointing a finger down at the ground.

shaking your head, you laugh at their antics. looking at the people around you, you can't help but think about Jamie; is he inside already? what is he wearing? will he still like your dress? oh my God what if he doesn't show up just because you said no to being his date-

"y/n, it's your turn babe," Keeley whispers in your ear, and she places a hand on your back to guide you onto the red carpet. eyes widening in panic, you turn to grab her hand; "Keeley, I have no idea what to do, please come with me,"

she giggles, running in front of the photographers, still holding your hand. she flicks her hair aside, placing a hand on her hip and smiling wide. through her teeth she tells you: "just copy me, you're gorgeous."

as the two of you stand and pose together, Rebecca steps onto the carpet at its far end, smiling on her own. you reach over, taking her hand and pulling her between you and Keeley, and the three of you laugh and pose together in front of the cameras. slowly but surely, you get more comfortable, stepping aside to get a few photos on your own. Dani, Colin, and a number of other Richmond players stand next to the photographers, whistling and whooping in encouragement. your laugh is big and genuine as the cameras continue to flash, and the adrenaline running through your veins reignites the excitement you've had all week.

"thank you!" you say to the photographers as an event organiser beckons you off the carpet. she leads you, Rebecca, and Keeley towards the steps into the theatre. the three of you laugh at the rush caused by the attention of the cameras, and your words are filled with disbelief; "I've never done anything like that before! that was so much fucking fun!"

"I know right?!" Keeley cackles.

"ladies, I have to go in and sort some things so I'm going to go ahead. I'll see you at the table," Rebecca speaks quickly, blowing a kiss before rushing off.

"she's so sexy when she's all in charge and shit," Keeley says, watching as Rebecca struts up the rest of the stairs and into the venue. she turns to face you, looking you up and down. with an inquisitive expression, she reaches her hands up and twists your necklace around, hiding the clasp behind your neck.

"perfect," she says, "how do I look?"

"absolutely amazing," you reply to her, pulling some fluff from her lace corset.

"let's fucking do this," Keeley says with a determined expression, and the two of you hold hands again as you walk up the stairs. at the door, a server holds a silver platter with champagne flutes filled to the brim. Keeley immediately drops your hand, taking one glass in each hand. you struggle holding back a laugh as you take one for yourself, thanking the server quietly.

approaching the double doors into the theatre, you reach out your free hand to pull the handle, holding it open for Keeley. "thanks, babe," she says, taking a quick sip of her drink. the second she enters, she squeals "Barbara!" and rushes over to her friend nearby.

left to fend for yourself, you blink and widen your eyes at the sheer size of the ballroom. at the far end is a large stage, and the walls are covered in red velvet. you look up at the ginormous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the chatter from the large amount of guests bounces against all sides of the room. you can't discern any of the voices despite recognising almost every face. everyone is dressed up to the Gods, mingling and chatting in small groups. some people are sitting at their tables, whilst some are simply standing around.

you spot Ted and Beard talking to Trent Crimm to your left, and as you're about to move towards them to say hello, a recognisable voice finally breaks through your thoughts; "holy fuck."

snapping your head towards the sound of the voice, your eyes immediately notice Jamie standing next to the bar to your right. he stands up straight when your eyes meet, sliding his elbow from the counter and placing down his beer bottle.

your jaw slacks as you move your eyes down his body, noticing his suit. it's a smooth navy, tailored to fit him perfectly. his signet ring shines beneath the bright lights, and his tattoos peek out from under his sleeve. the tie he's wearing has a light blue pattern you can't quite make out from your distance, but when your eyes drift to his suit jacket, your mouth snaps closed.

Jamie's eyes are wider than you've ever seen them, and he doesn't seem to blink at all as you walk over to him. you stand close to him, nostrils flaring as you clench your jaw; "Jamie," you say flatly, trying to keep your breathing steady, "what the fuck is that?" you tuck your clutch under your arm, moving your hand up to his chest and poking a finger against the pocket of his jacket.

his mouth opens and closes a few times, but no words come out. avoiding your eyes, he frowns his lips and shrugs; "what's... what?"

you tsk at him, moving your head to the side in an attempt to catch his gaze again. your finger digs into his chest harder, finally making him look at you as he pulls away in pain.

"ow, what was that for?"

"where did you get that pocket square?" you ask, making your question clear. you glance down at the sequinned blue fabric folded in his pocket, and your ears start ringing as your heart rate increases rapidly.

"Sarah made it for me to match your dress," Jamie admits sheepishly, shoulders slumping as he looks down at his fidgeting hands.

"come with me." you say, turning around and walking across the ballroom. Jamie follows you like a lost puppy as you walk past the other guests. "hey guys, I'll see you in a bit!" you chirp as you pass the coaches and their resident writer. they wave at you and Jamie with confused faces, but you ignore them. pushing through another set of double doors, you walk into a hallway.

looking side to side, you spot what you're looking for down the hallway and on the left. you don't look behind you, sure Jamie is right there, as you strut past another bar and some couched booths. stopping to chug your champagne, you discard the glass one of the tables. when you finally reach the door labelled 'ladies, you push open the door, hoping nobody's inside.

Jamie's suddenly stops as you head into the bathroom, brows furrowed, and you roll your eyes before pulling him in with you. when you walk in, you thank God there's no one in there to see you drag in the man trailing behind you. pushing open the first stall you see, you yank Jamie's arm to pull him inside.

you drop his hand, pressing your hands against his chest and pushing his back into the door, making it shut. you waste no time in slotting your feet between his and leaning forward, connecting your lips together. his hands find your waist as he realises what's happening. your clutch drops to the floor and you grab his biceps, keeping yourself steady.

hunger sets into you as you kiss him deeply, already panting as you messily move your lips against each other. your tongue slips into his mouth with ease as your hand reaches for his hair, grabbing a handful and tugging it. he groans into your mouth as his hands move up your back, holding you impossibly closer. you struggle to suppress the moan in the back of your throat as his tongue dips into your mouth, and your knees buckle at the feeling. Jamie uses this as his chance to spin you around, pressing your back against the cold door and quickly locking it without even having to look. with one hand placed firmly on the arch of your back, the other comes up to your face, tilting your jaw up as he kisses you even harder. your heads move side to side quickly, not once pulling away for breath as you move against each other vigorously. your fingers are still tangled in his hair whilst your other hand grips his arm tight, feeling the way the muscle flexes as he holds your body against his.

your mind goes completely blank, and your senses heighten as Jamie feels warm - no - hot. your heart hammers against your chest as you feel yourself start to sweat, your shared body heat starting to become overwhelming as your ears ring. all you can see, feel, and smell is Jamie; his cologne, his cold rings, his smooth skin on yours. both of your lips are sticky with lipgloss, and the noises your mouths make together make you blush. Jamie slides his hand from your face to your neck, running his thumb down your throat as he continues to tangle your tongues together. the touch pulls a low whine from your throat, and you completely lose the strength to hold yourself up.

your hand leaves his hair and quickly finds his tie, wrapping it around your fist and tugging it. you use the leverage to pull your back from the door before pressing the same hand into his chest.

Jamie reluctantly pulls his lips off of yours as you push against him. you're both breathless, panting with open mouths as you stare at each other. his pupils are dark and blown wide, breathing jagged, and his lips are even more plump than usual. yours feel equally as swollen, cheeks hot and hair messy.

without a word, you bend down, picking up your long discarded purse from the floor. turning your back to Jamie, you unlock the stall door and walk towards the sinks. dropping your purse on top of the marble, you run cold water over your hands in an attempt to cool yourself down before digging through your clutch. pulling out a bobby pin, you fix a rogue strand of hair which has fallen out of your updo. as you do so, Jamie appears from the stall, hair no longer messy. he catches your eyes in the mirror and smirks at you. as he passes you by, he brings his palm up to slap your ass, making your disheveled expression form into a smile.

you watch his back as he leaves the bathroom, and the fact he doesn't turn to glance at you makes you part your lips and huff, impressed by his sudden composure. turning back to the mirror, you stare at yourself. your cheeks are flushed, lips red and swollen, and your legs shake beneath you. holding the sink for support, you lean forward, fanning your face with your hand in an attempt to cool your skin. the door squeaks open, and you quickly stand up straight and pretend to fix the hair around your face.

a brunette woman you don't recognise walks in, and you send her a polite smile through the mirror's reflection. "having a good night are we?" she grins knowingly, scrunching up her nose and raising her eyebrows. you let out a surprised cackle, quickly shaking your head and shrugging; "just fixing my makeup, you know how it goes."

"right..." she drawls, winking at you before she disappears into a stall. you sigh out a breath, glad it wasn't Keeley or Rebecca walking in on you, even though they would probably have a few tips to make yourself look less sloppy after you and Jamie's heated make out.

sure, you weren't exactly playing the game of tension they were talking about, but your kiss with Jamie was worth every second. you wouldn't have lasted flirting with him all evening without knowing what he tasted like. the feeling of his lips on yours, hands pressed against your back while you clawed at his hair, is going to replay in your mind all evening, and you hope you won't be going home alone.

pulling your lipgloss from your bag, you quickly dab some more on your still-puffy lips. hoping all traces of Jamie are gone, you clip your clutch closed and head for the door. as you push through into the hallway, the loud chatter of the event reverberates through the walls, and adrenaline sets in again. you decide against returning to the ballroom just yet, walking down the hallway and to the small bar at the end of it.

"y/n!" Sam beams as you meet him at the bar. you get the attention of the bartender.

"I'll try the peachy keen, please," turning to face Sam you say: "how are you, Samuel?"

"I'm doing good, what about you?" he laughs at your use of his full name.

"hungry! I'm so excited for the meal and the auction and everything," you say, accepting your cocktail from the bartender with a "thank you so much."

"ah, really? are you going to bid on Jamie?" Sam asks with a grin.

"ha!" you cackle, "Jamie wishes I'd bid on him! but... I don't really think I can afford the auction anyways. Keeley said it goes into the tens of thousands!"

"I think Jamie would do it for free if it was you bidding on him, he's obsessed with you." Sam takes a sip of his drink, and you arch your eyebrows; "really?" you ask.

"oh yes, for sure... but I don't think I need to tell you that," he says with a smirk on his face.

"what do you mean?" you shrug nervously, already picturing Jamie's dark eyes when you pulled away from him in the bathroom stall. you bring your sweet drink to your lips in attempt to distract yourself.

"well, I saw him stumble out of the women's restrooms a few minutes ago. he's not very good at hiding his certain excitement, if you know what I mean,"

Sam's words take you aback, and you snort into your drink and cough as you place the glass down. you wipe the splatters from your face and look up at him with a shocked look.

he continues, the smirk on his face growing even more devilish; "and then I see you walking out of the same bathroom a few minutes later... which makes me think that maybe... you were in there together?"

you inhale deeply, raising you eyebrows and smiling at him. picking up your glass from the bar, you turn to walk away. "I will speak to you later, Sam. enjoy your meal." you say politely, and he laughs at you as you turn and head through the doors and back into the large ballroom.

contrary to when you arrived, the carpeted room is now bustling with people. you stand still in front of the door, stunned by the crowds. you can hear the familiar laughter and shouts of the Richmond players, but you can't see them. you look over to the stage to see Rebecca standing beside it, nervously discussing something with Higgins. glancing back towards the bar you had previously found Jamie at, his place is now taken by Roy and Keeley as they stand close together. her hand holds his arms as he looks down at her lovingly, a content smile resting on his face. you smile at their interaction, the gentle side of both of them is a rare sight at work, and it's as if they're all alone in this room full of people.

"excuse me ladies and gentlemen," Rebecca's voice sounds through speakers around the room. chatter dies down as everyone turns their attention to the stage, where Rebecca is standing behind a microphone.

"thank you so very much for coming," she pauses as the chatter dies down quickly, "dinner is going to be served soon, so if everybody could please find their seats, that would be delightful." everyone applauds Rebecca as she smiles and walks off the stage. you beeline towards her, awkwardly smiling at people as you push past them. standing next to the stage, Rebecca is flattening non-existent creases in her dress as she now talks to Ted.

"it's gonna be amazing, boss, don't you worry!" you hear Ted chirp as you approach the two. sensing your presence, Rebecca turns her head and smiles at you.

"oh, y/n, thank goodness you're here." she breathes.

your face contorts into a puzzled look as you glance at Ted whose face is still in his classic closed mouth smile; "we arrived together," you chuckle to yourself, and her face of realisation makes the three of you laugh. "let's go find our seats." you say, and you look back to Ted, "will you be sitting with us, coach?"

the three of you move towards the tables, and Rebecca guides you to table nine, smack down in the middle of the ballroom.

"that's right! I can't wait to tell Roy about my new uniform designs,"

"it's called a kit, coach," Beard suddenly appears next to Ted, Jane beside him.

"well we'll have to make them thermal then... winter is coming!" Ted says proudly, snapping his fingers with a chuckle.

you look up at Beard, completely confused. "Game of Thrones," he says in a flat tone. from beside him, Jane also speaks up in the same way; "Kit Harington."

"ah," you say, the awkward smile on your face fading as you turn away from the encounter, shaking your head as you walk to the other side of the table. pulling out the chair directly across from Ted, you're facing the stage with your back to the rest of the tables. as you move to sit down, however, Rebecca stops you.

"wait, okay, hold on," she circles the table, stopping at each chair and crouching down. your brows furrow as you watch her, clueless as to what she was doing. she brings her hands up in front of her face, holding her fingers in an L-shape as she frames her vision. "perfect..." she stands up straight and pulls out the chair in front of her, "this is your seat."

the antics make you laugh, giving in and moving two seats to the left and sitting down; "thanks?"

"you're so very welcome," her tone is sincere, as if she didn't just dance around the table choosing you a chair. she sits down in the seat to your right, immediately grabbing for one of the complimentary bottles of white wine set in the centre of the table. screwing open the top, she fills your glass first, all the way up to the brim. she does the same for her glass, almost making it overflow, before putting the wine bottle back into its ice bucket.

"Rebecca, oh my God," you widen your eyes at her with a smile, and her mischievous smirk makes you laugh. "I've already paid for it! we might as well drink it." as the two of you giggle, you raise your glasses and clink them together, some wine spilling over the rim as you cheers.

"hey! wait for me!" Keeley runs over, Roy trailing behind her, before lifting her cocktail up to join your toast, "here's to y/n shagging Jamie tonight!"

your hand flies to your mouth in shock and you shush her, glancing around to see if anyone heard her vulgar words. the only other guest who heard her comment was Roy, who smiles at you sympathetically before muttering "fucking gross," under his breath as he sits down. Keeley playfully sticks her tongue out at you before moving to sit beside between Rebecca and Roy. she leans over closer to you and Rebecca as Roy fills their glasses with wine; "have you seen Jamie's pocket square, by the way?"

you don't need to be looking in the mirror to know the intense blush that just set across your cheeks as you avoid looking at her. Rebecca furrows her brows and shakes her head, looking between you and Keeley. you suck in your lips and close your eyes, knowing what Keeley is about to say.

"it's the same as y/n's dress!" she whisper yells, and you reluctantly open one eye to see Rebecca's reaction.

"what the fuck?!" her eyes shoot open wide as her head snaps to look at you. you stay quiet, opening your other eye and bearing your teeth in a wide grimace. "how did he get a piece of your dress?" Rebecca says to you in a hushed tone before her face drops, "oh my God, y/n, don't tell me you've already slept with him."

now it's your turn to widen your eyes in a shocked expression; "Jesus, no!" you say, slightly offended by Rebecca's assumption. she, Keeley, and Roy stare at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue.

"what?" you ask them, nervously chugging the rest of your peach cocktail. none of them speak as they watch you drink, and you roll your eyes before explaining: "he went dress shopping with me and I guess the tailor made him a pocket square for tonight. I swear I had no idea he was going to do that! he did it behind my back."

Keeley squints at you, clearly not believing a word you say. when you look at Rebecca, she pouts her lips and nods, but you can't decipher whether it's in reassurance or mockery. "I believe you," Roy suddenly says, "he's a possessive little bitch, he would definitely pull this shit."

you chuckle at his words, and he sends you a quick wink with a small smile. as you look past Roy, your smile drops, not giving you the chance to return the wink, and Rebecca says what you're thinking: "speak of the devil,"

"you talkin' bout me?" Jamie says, firmly placing his hands on Roy's shoulders as he stands behind him. a cocky grin plasters his face as he stares down at you, quickly winking at you as your mouth falls slightly open.

"let go of me." Roy states, face stone cold as he stares ahead. Jamie doesn't follow his order, simply squeezing Roy's shoulders and shaking him side to side. "I'll kill you." Roy says again, but Jamie ignores him.

"Rebecca?" he asks sweetly, taking his time to drag his eyes off of you and look at the woman next to you, "why can't I sit at this table?"

"oooh..." Ted says, watching intently as Rebecca folds her arms on the table. Jamie's tight-lipped smile is sweet, but fake, and Rebecca mirrors his expression. she inhales deeply, tilting her head to the side as she looks up at him.

"because I said so, Jamie." she says, and your eyebrows arch as you bite back a smile when he glances at you, his cocky expression now cracking slightly. his grin turns into a pout as he gasps for a response. "but-" he starts, but Rebecca interrupts his rebuttal: "because I pay you to play football for me, Jamie, not to accompany me to dinner."

Roy bursts into a loud laugh, gaining everyone's attention as the table goes completely silent. Jamie slides his hands from his shoulders, startled by the sound of his laughter. Keeley giggles from beside Roy, covering her mouth to hide it. the whole table looks at him, amused smiles creeping up your faces. Jamie, on the other hand, looks defeated, eyes finding yours again. he sends you a sad look, pouting his lips. silently, you lift your shoulders in a shrug, smiling at him. your smile is sincere and warm, despite his opposite expression. still, since your encounter in the bathrooms not too long ago, your heart is finding it hard not to be fond of Jamie as you look at him. you'd like to keep up the tension-filled flirtatious banter, but since feeling the pressure of his mouth on yours, you can't help but long for the next time you'll get to taste him.

"good one, Rebecca," Roy finally speaks, falling back into his blunt normality as he brings his drink to his mouth.

Jamie composes himself, rolling his eyes before glancing at everyone at the table; "whatever," he mutters, looking straight at you again, "see you during the auction, y/n," he winks before turning and walking away, clearly quickly recovering from the embarrassment.

Rebecca and Keeley slowly turn towards you, mouths agape, and the three of you wait a few seconds before squealing in excitement.

"holy shit!" Keeley says, reaching across Rebecca to grab your hand, "he wants you!" she growls, and you all share another screech as you process Jamie's parting words.

"who wants who?!" a voice interjects your noise, matching your excitement with an amused tone and a wide smile. you look to your left as the same brunette from the bathroom sits down in the free seat next to you. your expression drops as you feel the blood drain from your face, contrasting the deep blush Jamie had just given you. she catches your eye and smiles wide; "hey! we're at the same table, what a coincidence!"

"Sassy Smurf?!" Ted hangs his head to the side to try and see her face. she immediately turns to him, opening her arms wide as they match each other's wide smiles. "Marlboro Man!" she shouts, and they embrace in a quick hug. the interaction both warms your heart and confuses you, turning to give Rebecca a questioning look. you're overwhelmed by all of the interactions you've had since sitting down at the table, and at this point you have no idea how the evening is going to pan out.

Rebecca smiles at you, interrupting Ted and the mystery woman's conversation to introduce you; "y/n, this is Flo, my best friend,"

"since childhood," she includes, "and you can just call me Sassy, it makes me feel more interesting," she smiles and winks at you as she holds out a hand for you to shake. you take it, repeating Rebecca by saying "I'm y/n, it's so lovely to meet you."

"y/n is our receptionist at Richmond, and she's really good," Keeley says, "she gets along with literally everyone, especially Jamie Tartt." she smirks at Sassy and raises her eyebrows suggestively.

Sassy turns to look at you wide eyes, an intrigued smile spreading across her face as she looks at you. you can almost see the cogs turning in her mind, and your face falls as you try to shake your head as subtly as possible. panic starts setting in as you realise she's connecting the dots between you in the bathroom and the conversation at the table, and you hope your wide eyes tell her not to mention your post-Jamie run in.

"ooh," she drawls, elongating the vowels as she nods her head. you hold your breath, hoping she understood your silent plea. "yeah, he's not really my type but, go get it babe," she sends you a cheeky grin and raises her brows at you. you feel the back of her hand tap the side of your thigh in reassurance as she turns her back to you; "so Ted, how have you been?" you hear her say, and you sigh in relief before drinking as much wine as you can in one gulp.

everyone quickly moves on, diving into their own conversations. Ted and Sassy seem to know each other quite well, Sassy leaning close to him as he speaks, making him blush. Rebecca must notice your confused expression, interrupting her own chat with Keeley and Roy to lean in to your ear; "they've slept together a few times." your eyes widen as you dramatically scoop your head to the side to look at Rebecca. you exchange knowing smiles, and her eyes soften as she looks at you. furrowing your brows as you notice her expression change, you're about to ask her if everything's okay, but she beats you to it.

"as much as we tease you about it," she starts, "Keeley and I think you and Jamie are perfect for each other. I can see how much you like him and -- not that he's hiding it very well -- but I can tell he is utterly in love with you."

you open your mouth to contest, but Rebecca holds a hand up to stop you; "I promise, y/n. now, during the auction, I want you to bid whatever amount needed to win him. don't worry about the cost, I'll cover it."

"oh- absolutely not!" you gawk at Rebecca, "you can't buy me a dress and a man!"

"of course I can. I'm the boss, remember?" her voice is stern as she pats your thigh.

"please, I'm begging you, just take the dress out of my paycheck." your eyes are pleading as you clasp your hands together. she shakes her head at you and tsks; "none of it. now, let's eat."

as if on cue, dozens of waiters appear out of nowhere, carrying platters of plates. first they bring the chicken, then the steak. you all dig into your dinner, and the food is delicious - not surprising, Rebecca would never settle for less than perfect. you eat, drink, and laugh, especially with Sassy beside you, her numerous offhand comments making you laugh louder than you normally would if you didn't have this much alcohol running through your veins. you notice the way Ted looks at her, even when she's speaking to someone else, and you recognise it as similar to the way Jamie looked at you in the dress boutique earlier this week. his eyes are soft and features relaxed, a small smile resting comfortably on his lips. his pupils are big, and his chest moves up and down slowly as he breathes -- he seems completely at ease, despite the hustle and bustle of the room. it makes you think of seeing Keeley and Roy earlier, looking at each other as if they were the only ones here, not a care in the world about who's around them. you smile to yourself before turning your attention back to the story Sassy is telling, some retelling of a funny memory she shares with Rebecca.

Keeley laughs at her words, and the sound is just infectious, making you laugh more than the story itself. your eyes move to look at Roy, who looks at Keeley with soft eyes identical to Ted's. you huff a small laugh to yourself, it going unnoticed by those around you as they're all engrossed in the conversation. Roy stares at Keeley with such adoration that it tugs at your heartstrings. their chairs are pulled close together, and his arm is draped over the back of her chair as she leans into him ever so slightly. her wine glass sits in her hand as she laughs, and each time she does, Roy smiles to himself. you doubt he's even listening to Sassy's tale, completely distracted by Keeley's joy. he's infatuated with her, and you can tell by the way she continues to crack his hard exterior. you wonder what he's like with her behind closed doors; you bet she has him walking around wearing her signature pink robe.

you look down at your hands, admiring the manicure you got in preparation for the event. the glossy light pink colour matches the details of your outfit, and you're still surprised at how comfortable your dress is. you run your fingers over the blue sequins, seeing how they reflect the chandeliers above you. you can't believe Jamie's little stunt he pulled -- when did he even ask Sarah to make him that pocket square? you look over your left shoulder, trying to find him at the table behind you, but he's not there. when you look to your right and past Rebecca, you see a table with Richmond staff, but no still no Jamie. scanning the countless people at the event, you can't seem to spot him.

it seems you were looking too far, however, as when you look at the table diagonal to yours, also in the middle of the room, your eyes land on him immediately. he's already looking at you, lids low on his eyes as he stares. you quickly glance away, trying to hide the fact you were looking for him, but you can feel his eyes burning into the side of your face. he's sitting with other Richmond players, but doesn't seem engaged with them at all as he stares at you. you have no idea of knowing how long he's been staring at you, but decide to meet his eyes again. as predicted, he's still looking in your direction. unlike usually, his face isn't cocky or teasing. instead, his eyes are soft and dark, and his mouth is closed in a small and subtle smile, probably unaware of its presence on his face. your gentle smile morphs into a shy one as he doesn't break away from your stare.

looking back to your lap, you touch your fingertips up to brush your lips, replaying every second of your kiss with Jamie in the bathroom. your skin recalls each goosebump as you imagine the way his hands ran up your spine. as you remember the taste of his tongue against yours, a blush takes over your face and your vision blurs. days of tension and patient waiting were interrupted by that first kiss, and you hope that wasn't your last.

—

the evening continues smoothly; you all finish your meals and continue emptying the wine bottles. warmth runs through your veins as alcohol mixes with contentment, and you fight the urge to blurt out something stupid about Jamie in your conversations. this proves to be made extra hard with him in your peripheral vision, and you can feel his eyes on you every time you laugh. you get more flustered the more wine you drink, and it's a true struggle not to stand up, take Jamie's hand, and take him home.

your engrossed in conversation with Sassy and Ted when Rebecca speaks into the microphone on the stage. you hadn't even noticed her leaving the table, a testament to your tunnel vision after a few drinks. Keeley shuffles over to sit next to you, and you see Roy standing up from the table. he buttons his suit jacket swiftly as he slides past the other tables and towards the stage. Keeley grabs your hand and squeals; "time for the auction! I will literally kill anyone that bids on Roy."

"ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming to support this year's annual Benefit for Underprivileged Children gala!"

the room breaks into a loud applause at Rebecca's words, and you take the opportunity to glance at Jamie. this time, to your surprise, he's not looking at you. his eyes are focused on the stage, and you use his distraction to look him up and down, eyes lingering on his pocket square. dragging your eyes upwards again, you notice Sam looking at you. he's sitting right next to Jamie, and is clapping absentmindedly as he stares at you with a challenging look, eyes squinting. you ignore him, quickly facing the stage again.

"now for the part you've all been waiting for," Rebecca continues, "the auction for a chance to spend an all-expenses paid evening with one of Richmond FC's very own football players!" everyone claps again, and the cheers get louder as Roy makes his way onto the stage. you jump at the sound of Keeley screaming beside you, her arms in the air as she claps for her boyfriend. his face remains expressionless as he lifts a hand up to salute to Keeley, and she does the same. she grabs your arm with one hand as the other holds her bidding paddle at the ready.

"I love it when he acts all 'I'm Roy and I don't smile'" she puts on a gruff voice as she smiles, "I just keep trying to make him crack!"

"first up, Roy Kent." Rebecca says, gesturing as Roy steps up to the microphone.

he takes a deep breath before using his best deadpan voice to say: "if any of you, other than Keeley Jones, put up your hand, I'll have you escorted out of here." the crowd laugh at his words, but his face stays cold as Keeley throws her paddle up into the air; "twenty-five thousand!" she shouts with a beaming smile, standing up from her seat with a small jump. "sold to the lovely lady in the puffy skirt!" Roy says into the mic before Rebecca even has the chance. Keeley squeals as Roy immediately exits the stage, making his way back over to the table. when he reaches Keeley, she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him sweetly. Ted coos at the gesture, and the players behind you cheer and ooh at the couple obnoxiously. Roy flips them off as he keeps his lips on Keeley's, and it makes you think of Jamie again.

when you flick your eyes over to his seat, you find it empty, but Sam still manages to catch your eyes again. you curse under your breath before forcing a smile. he points to the stage and when you turn your head, you see Jamie standing on the stage next to Rebecca. the spotlights make his pocket square sparkle, and the sight makes your heart beat faster than it should. "he's a possessive little bitch" Roy's words run circles around your head, and you can't help but admit you don't mind his possessiveness -- only when it comes to you.

"next we have a free meal with unlimited wine at the luxurious Richmond Hill Hotel with the one and only Jamie Tartt!" Rebecca exclaims, "and if the lucky bidder gets even luckier, she can have one night's stay in the hotel included!"

your cheeks flush a deep crimson as your mouth drops open wide. Sassy turns to you with a loud gasp, and Keeley cackles as she grabs your hand, bouncing up and down in her seat. your hands cover your mouth as you duck your head shyly, your entire table encouraging you to reach for your paddle. you finally make eye contact with Jamie, who is biting his lip with a teethy grin. he shoots you one of his classic winks and you sigh, picking up the paddle.

"let's start at five thousand for Jamie," Rebecca says.

you're about to put your number in the air, but someone else beats you to it. you look to the right, following the voice repeating the number, only to see Roy with his paddle in the air. the room erupts in laughter, including Jamie. Roy looks at you and winks; "we could get some extra training in," and he cracks you a smile.

"five thousand for Roy Kent? okay," Rebecca says as she holds back a laugh. her eyes are on you as she continues; "six thousand?"

finally lifting your paddle, you call out: "six thousand!"

Jamie smiles as Rebecca says your name into the microphone. unlike at the table earlier, his face is back to a cocky grin. strong arms crossed in front of his chest, his chin is held high as he runs his tongue across his teeth. his eyes are glued to yours, so you take it upon yourself to drag them up and down his body, enjoying the view. his trousers are tight around his thighs, and his arms practically bulge out of the suit jacket. how had you not noticed this earlier? how big he looks in the fitted outfit, and how much you like his blonde hair, and how the button up shirt he's wearing isn't white, but is actually the same shade of dusty pink as your shoes. your lips part as you realise just how much you two are matching, and your brows furrow in feigned anger. Jamie smirks as he sees you looking him up and down, but you decide to tease him just a bit more.

"do I hear seven thousand?"

eyes on his, you refuse to lift your paddle, despite Sassy trying to lift your hand. keeping it tucked under your crossed legs, you don't make any move to bid on him.

"seven thousand pounds!" you hear from behind you, and you turn to see Sam's hand in the air. everyone laughs again, and his joke starts a ripple effect amongst the football players.

"ten thousand." Isaac says bluntly, and when Jamie blows him a kiss from the stage he says: "love you, bruv!"

the bidding goes through a number of players dotted throughout the room until finally, the number reaches nineteen thousand.

"any more for any more?" Rebecca hopes, glaring at you.

Keeley drums on the table suddenly, and Sassy is quick to join in. soon, Roy, Ted, Beard, and even Jane are all tapping the table, giving you a drum roll.

"twenty thousand!" you shout, shaking your head as you throw your eyes to the sky. Rebecca doesn't give the chance for any more bids, immediately saying: "sold for twenty thousand to y/n y/l/n!"

Jamie laughs as he looks down at you, and you bite your lip as he mouths to you; "you're mine."

—

with the auction finished, and some of the Richmond players paired up with new potential wags, most of the tables are empty. although Rebecca couldn't hire the real ABBA, Higgins managed to find a more-than-decent cover band to take the stage as musical guest. you bounce up and down to the rhythm of the music, hand-in-hand with Rebecca. you spin her around, and she does the same to you as you sing along to the classic 'Dancing Queen', and you point to her every time the chorus plays. you laugh and cackle as you scream along to the songs, dancing with Rebecca and Keeley, and sometimes Sassy. allegedly, Roy doesn't dance, so Keeley has resorted to dancing on her own. she has long discarded her heels, and you wish you had the balls to do the same.

when the song switches to 'Chiquitita', Keeley collapses against Rebecca's chest, clutching her tightly in a hug. Sassy whispers something to Ted, who has been krumping the whole time, before they both disappear through the double doors into the hallway you had pulled Jamie through earlier. you smile as you watch them walk away, hand-in-hand. when you turn back to Keeley and Rebecca, you're surprised to see Sam standing in front of you, hand outstretched. you take it with a shy smile, and he pulls you close. you put a hand on his shoulder as he leans down, but he keeps the hand not holding yours to himself; how respectful. together, you move side to side as he has to shout in your ear to be heard above the music.

"where's Jamie?" he asks.

"I don't know," you reply, standing cheek to cheek so he can hear you.

"you look stunning tonight, y/n."

"thank you, Sam! you look great!" when you saw him at the bar earlier, you hadn't completely recovered from Jamie, so you hadn't noticed his sophisticated look for the night.

"I know you and Jamie were in the bathroom together," he says, ignoring your compliment, "and I noticed your matching outfits."

you roll your eyes, pulling him close to you so you can explain yourself; "I didn't know how was going to do that! Roy said he was being possessive."

"and Roy is right...," he says, twirling you around using your entwined hands, and he stops your spin halfway, allowing your eyes to fall on a sulking Jamie, "now go talk to Jamie. I've gotten him all jealous and bothered, now you have to handle the rest while I try to talk to Rebecca."

turning to face Sam again, you laugh wildly, slapping his arm as you pretend to be upset at his antics. he matches your expression, cackling as shakes his hips. you hold your pointer finger up to him, quickly grabbing his hand again and pulling him towards Rebecca, who is still holding Keeley in her arms. their height difference is exacerbated by Keeley's missing shoes, and her eyes are closed as she rests her head on Rebecca's chest. your boss looks at you, pursing her lips as she holds back her laughter. you move closer to her; "Sam has no one to dance with, maybe you can lend him a hand?" you say before leaning down to whisper in Keeley's ear. "Sam is here." you say, and she doesn't need any more information before standing up straight and dancing through the crowd and out of sight.

pushing Sam towards Rebecca, you let go of his hand, quickly fixing the twisted strap on your pumps before stepping back onto the carpet. fittingly so, the band starts singing 'Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!', and you smirk to myself as you walk towards Jamie. his jacket is unbuttoned, pockets hanging loosely at his side. with his head down, he has one hand in his pocket and the other fidgeting with a toothpick on top of the table. he doesn't notice you approach, so you move to stand behind him. you bend over slightly, folding your arms over his shoulders as you hold your face next to his. Jamie, stubborn as always, doesn't react to your presence, so you flatten your palms against his midriff, feeling his hard abs beneath his shirt. this makes him sit up slightly, taking a hand out of his pocket and placing it over your hands.

"isn't it funny you're at table six, and I was at table nine..." you say in his ear, but he ignores your silly comment.

your fingers drag up painfully slowly, reaching his chest before he drops his hand down. his chest moves up and down rapidly as he borderline pants at your touch. separating your hands, you bring them across his chest firmly before pulling them up to his shoulders. you squeeze his solid muscles, secretly admiring his strength.

"there's not a soul out there," you whisper along to the song, lips brushing his ear, "no one to hear my prayer,"

"Jamie," your voice is sultry in his ear, knowing exactly what you want from him right now. the song isn't helping your heated state, the bass pumping in your flushed chest. he tips his head back as you continue to massage his shoulders, resting it in the crook of your neck. you can see every inch of the soft skin on his throat, and you drag your eyes over his adam's apple as it bobs with his nervous gulp. stopping the movement of your fingers, Jamie stands up abruptly, buttoning his jacket with shaky hands.

smirking as you look up at him, he clenches his jaw and shakes his head as if telling you not to say anything. without another word, he takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers tightly, and walks towards the door. he pushes through the first set of double doors, you in tow, before suddenly coming to a halt. you stand beside him, both of you silent for a few seconds. torrential rain slaps the pavement outside of the venue, and you look at your clothes with wide eyes. he does the same, and when your eyes meet again, you both laugh. his hand comes up to brush his air back as he looks out at the rain, but your eyes are glued to his bicep. the seams of jacket look like they're about to burst as he flexes his muscles, and your smile fades into an O-shape as your jaw slacks. yes, he's a professional footballer, but he's so big, and so muscular. your eyes drop down as you lean back, taking a glimpse of his backside, and that is definitely a rugby ass.

"fuck it," he mumbles, pulling you from your trance, and before you know it he's pulling you outside. you rush down the steps, squeezing his hand tight so you don't slip, before running to the street corner. there's a line of black cabs picking up guests, and Jamie pulls open the door to one. holding open the door for you, he lets you crawl in first, before ducking down.

"hi!" you chirp to the driver as Jamie climbs in next to you, "sorry you have to drive in this weather," you apologise before giving him your address through the plastic privacy partition. the driver closes it, so you buckle your seatbelt, and once Jamie's shut the door, he does the same.

"we're going to yours?" he asks, pushing his dripping wet hair out of his eyes.

"yeah." you say simply, smiling at him. you're sure you look like a drowned rat, and you hope your makeup isn't running down your face. despite only being in the rain for a minute or so, you're both completely soaked.

you look at each other for a few seconds as the driver takes off, and you can't help but laugh at each other's appearance.

"you look like you do after training, but... worse," you giggle, pushing a misplaced strand of his hair over.

"and you look... just a little bit melted," he laughs, "but still gorgeous." while you laugh, your lip quivers as you shiver from the cold rain, so he shrugs off his wet jacket, laying it over your legs in a poor attempt to keep you warm, but it's the thought that counts.

turning to look through the window, the air suddenly grows a little bit awkward. five minutes ago you were ready to let him do whatever he wanted to you, and now you're sitting next to each other in a silent cab completely drenched from the rain. you sigh, thinking about your next move. you want to reach over the middle seat and take his hand in his -- quite frankly, you'd prefer to straddle him and make out with him right here and now. but you stick with your first option, glancing down at your lap before sliding your hand over and taking his. as you fold your fingers together you bring his hand up, brushing your lips over the back of it as you kiss each of his knuckles. you don't look at him, just hold his hand in your lap as you continue staring out the window.

the drive continues in silence for a few more minutes, before Jamie clears his throat. eyes glued to the street, you don't look at him when he speaks; "aren't you happy you won me in the auction?" you can hear the smirk in his voice as he says it, and you roll your eyes with a smile.

"is this our free date night, then? because I was actually going to give it to my dad as a birthday gift, he loves you." you reply, still avoiding turning to him.

"I'll make sure he tells you how good I am in the bedroom," this makes you snap your head towards him, mouth agape, and he laughs at your expression as he tosses his head back against the car seat. you laugh along with him, staring at his bright smile. your eyes drop down and look at how his wet button up clings to his skin, and suddenly your heart beat speeds up again.

attempting to calm yourself, you look at the jacket draped over your lap. reaching for its pocket, you pull the folded blue fabric out of it. you hold it up to Jamie, raising your eyebrows in silent question. his expression falls sheepish again, smile fading. he glances out the window briefly before turning to you again, concerned look on his face.

"y/n, I just wanna say -- I'm sorry if me wearin' that pocket square made you uncomfortable. I guess I was so wrapped up in all of the flirting and everythin' that I didn't think about how it would look wearin' that tonight," his words are sincere as he looks at you with furrowed brows.

"Jamie," you whisper, eyes softening as you process his worry, "thank you for apologising, but don't worry. sure, it was surprising, but honestly I think it's really fit..."

his worried look turns to confusion as he puckers his lips; "what? are you serious?" he asks you, eyebrows arched.

"yes, Jamie, I'm being very serious. why do you think I took you to the bathroom and made out with you?" you say, absentmindedly playing with the fingers wrapped around your hand.

his eyes look to the ceiling of the car, and he licks his lips as he thinks hard. sighing, he starts slowly nodding his yet; "yeah... I guess so... well-played." he says, winking at you, and suddenly he's back to his regular, teasing self.

"so, why aren't we going to my superstar footballer mansion?" he asks, lips frowning in a grimace.

"because my penthouse flat is right here," you say, ducking your head down and pointing out of his window. the cab stops right in front of the small car park of your apartment. it's not a big building by any means, so it's more like a drive way that have a few cars parked on it. Jamie looks up at the four-storey building before looking at you with a bored expression.

"penthouse?" he repeats, pointing his thumb out the window, "how luxurious." he rolls his eyes before digging through his trouser pocket, pulling out a money clip.

"a money clip?" your tone now matches his, "what are you? fifty?"

"here ya go, sir," he hands a wad of cash to the taxi driver without even knowing how much the ride was. he ignores your comment, opening the door and holding it for you. you pass him his jacket, and when you step out of the car, he throws it over your shoulders. the rain is still lashing, and you make a run for the front door as Jamie closes the cab door and thanks the driver.

you hold your clutch over your head as you try to shield your hair from any more rain, but you doubt it helps at all. you knock on the double doors to the entrance, and the doorkeeper sitting in his small booth inside buzzes you in. Jamie catches up with you and places a hand on the small of your back as you walk inside. you shrug his jacket off, handing it to him as you make your way to the lift. he folds it over his arm, and smiles at the doorkeeper as you walk past his desk. you press the button to call the lift, and the doors immediately open.

"Jamie Tartt?" he asks out loud, completely bewildered.

the two of you step inside the lift, and when Jamie turns to face him with a friendly face, he holds a finger to his lips as if to shush him. the door slides closed, and the doorkeeper remains in shock the entire time. leaning against the wall, you stare up at Jamie with an amused grin, but the second the lift starts its ascent, Jamie turns to you. he grabs your face and crashes his lips onto yours. your hand flies up to clutch his wrist as you lose yourself to his touch. you waste no time slipping your tongue into his mouth again, and you feel like you can finally breathe. all evening you imagined doing this again, and now your body shivers as the anticipation comes to an end.

the lift stops, and Jamie stands up instantly, clearing his throat. you're left panting against the mirrored wall of the lift as it dings and the doors open. Jamie stands aside, holding out a hand as he beckons for you to walk in front of him. pushing yourself up, you pop open your clutch to dig for your keys. when you walk past Jamie he, of course, gives you a small slap to your ass. you squeak at the noise, but don't say anything else, pulling your housekeys from your bag. Jamie follows you around the corner and towards your door, and when you unlock it and push it open, the warmth of your apartment feels like heaven on your wet skin.

"it's small, but it's all I need really," you explain to Jamie as you walk towards your sofa. "nah, it's nice," he smiles at you sweetly, the opposite to the way he looked at you in the lift.

your living room and kitchen are conjoined, and the space definitely isn't the biggest, but its coziness welcomes you. dropping yourself onto the plush couch, you sink into the pillows, staring at Jamie. he clicks the door shut behind him before slipping off his dress shoes and placing them next to your doormat, right beside your work shoes. he turns and walks towards you, unbuttoning his jacket and throwing it over the arm of your grey sofa. you expect him to sit down next to you, but instead, he crouches down, kneeling on the ground proposal-style. quickly sitting up, you stare down at him skeptically, wondering what his next move is. his eyes hold yours as he slides his hands up your calves, and goosebumps raise on the smooth skin instantly. leaning forward, Jamie pushes your dress an inch over your knees before gently kissing them. you can't help but laugh at the feeling, it tickling slightly due to your damp skin. his thumbs slide over the divots in your knees, and graze over some scar you've had since childhood.

his hands slide down your legs before he focuses his fingers on the clasp of your heels. lifting your right foot up slightly, he brings his lips to your ankle, kissing gently before sliding the pump off. he does the same to the your other foot, and the relief of having your shoes off makes you sigh as you hang your head back. Jamie presses his thumbs into the sole of your left foot, easily rubbing the knot out of the arch of your foot. a small whine slips from your lips at the feeling, and Jamie lets a low chuckle slip as he moves on to your other foot, doing the exact same thing. this time, you manage to hold back your groans, biting down on your bottom lip with your eyes screwed shut.

moving his lips back to your ankle, Jamie straightens out your leg, running kisses up the side of your calf. when he reaches your knee, he brings your leg back down before sliding his hands up to your thighs, one hand on each leg. you lift your head to look down at him, and his eyes hold a pleading look as he stares up at you. your lips part, completely invigorated by the sight of Jamie on his knee in front of you, hands hidden under your dress, practically begging to touch you. leaning forward, you take control, wrapping his tie around your fist as you pull up, helping him back to his feet. he holds his hands out for you, and you take them as he lifts you from the sofa. staring up at him, hands resting in his, your flutter your lashes.

"you okay?" Jamie whispers, a crooked smile appearing on your face.

you nod and hum in response, letting go of one of his hands and stepping past him. he follows you as you pull his hand, walking down the hallway. you pass the bathroom, heading straight for your bedroom. leaving the door open behind you, you push Jamie into the room ahead of you, letting go of his hand. he sits down at the end of your bed, legs spread. you slot between them, back turned to him. reaching up, his fingers delicately pull at the zip on the back of the dress as you pull down the straps, and you think back to the boutique; you knew you wanted tonight to end this way, but never in a million years had you actually thought it would.

as the dress drops from your frame, you hear Jamie's breath hitch at the sight of your pink lingerie. his hands immediately come to your waist, spinning you to face him. straddling his lap, your hands come up to his neck as his hold your back to keep you up. a smile creeps onto your face as your cheeks go hot, and Jamie mirrors you. moving to look down to avoid your gaze, his eyes snap up again immediately, flustered by the lace covering your body. a giggle escapes your lips as you pulls his face to yours, pressing kisses to each cheek before moving up to his forehead, then down to his nose, before finally reconnecting your lips.

deepening the kiss, your lips move against his with a hasty hunger, and as you're about to slip your tongue into his mouth again, Jamie pulls back; "oh shit," he says, and you shake your head in confusion.

"what?" you ask, embarrassment beginning to cloud your mind as you stare at him expectantly.

he avoids your eyes, shaking his head with his lips parted in thought; "I forgot to sign out after work today."

———

i told u this would be long x_x

thank u so so much for reading richmond's receptionist! i've had the most fun writing this and will probs write an epilogue asap (i'm not ready to move on yet)! any feedback is welcomed and appreciated, thank u! <3

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #ted lasso #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt x y/n #imagine #jamie fartt #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt x you #richmond's receptionist

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fictionadventurer · 2 months ago

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Thoughts about A Biltmore Christmas that could drive me to write fanfiction (spoilers for everything):

The story of his death was a plan "we" concocted just in case. "We" suggests there were multiple people involved. My best guess is that Ava also saw Lucy disappear, and so she was primed to buy it when Jack told her this wild story of time travel.

Maybe the prop guy was involved, too? Repairing a magical time travel artifact has got to give you some insight into the existence of magical time travel.

I still thing that one bearded guy in the crew is a time traveler. He seems more casual about it. Time traveling to help a classic Hollywood film crew just for fun. He could help arrange things, too.

The story of how Jack managed not to get fired after helping a criminal escape against direct orders from the head of the studio.

About five minutes after Jack decides to stay in the future, Margaret stumbles upon them. Her shrieks of joy can be heard from space.

Lucy: Okay, Jack, time to fly back to Santa Monica....oh, wait, you have no ID. /Margaret, somehow making a facial expression that is the equivalent of fifty-seven ecstatic emojis all at once: ROAD TRIP!!!!!!!!!

Lucy: Excuse me, Mr. Tour Guide Riker, sir, I have a film star from 1948 here what do I do with him, please?/ Mr. Tour Guide Riker, handing her a manila envelope: Here are all necessary identification documents to set him up in a modern life. Please ask no questions.

(I know what Tour Guide Riker's name is. Tour Guide Riker is funnier).

Alternately, the thrilling legal battle of trying to get Jack some documentation, the same way that kids whose parents don't get them birth certificates have to.

Lucy comes home to her sister, trailed by the 1948 actor from the film they've watched multiple times a year since they were kids. Lots of freaking out happens.

Jack, who has trained as an actor in an extremely outdated style, struggles to find a job not only because of his dubious legal documentation, but also because he has zero marketable skills. With the same happy-go-lucky pluck that led him to travel eighty years into the future for the sake of a girl he'd known for a couple days, he makes the best of it and becomes an amazing house husband.

Jack watching the remake of His Merry Wife!, and having a lot of opinions about the comparative skills of the new actors. Is either extremely amused at the new Charlie actor or offended by his very existence. (I can't imagine the Hallmark actors would favorably compare to the original).

Jack: Honey, I'm sure you're an amazing writer, but I can't even begin to wrap my head around the new style of movies.

Lucy: Puts Jack through a months-long training course of classic movies to catch up on the history of cinema.

Jack Huston is an obvious stage name. Jack starts going by his original name in the future. It takes a while for Lucy to adjust.

Jack has to catch up on all of history for the past seventy-odd years. Too much amusement potential to even know where to start.

Did Jack fight in WWII? Does this affect his life at all?

Semi-regular encounters with classic Christmas movie fans: "You look just like Jack Huston." "Yeah, I get that a lot."

Jack cosplaying at Biltmore at Christmastime and having the time of his life quoting the film and getting pictures from people who are amazed that the staff found such a good impersonator.

#hallmark #a biltmore christmas #hopefully writing it out like this will get rid of the urge to actually write any of it #i'd be more ashamed that i'm even feeling the desire to write something about it #but look: stories about celebrities time-traveled to the future are kind of my thing #and this one has the added bonus of an imaginary movie #of course my imagination was going to seize on every detail

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tsukimara · 5 months ago

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-ˏˋ⋆➔ Hanako!Venti x gn!reader ⭒

-ˏˋ⋆➔ Genres: Hcs, fluff ⭒

-ˏˋ⋆➔ Hanako From Jshk/tbhk

-ˏˋ⋆➔ Warnings: None! ⭒

-ˏˋ⋆➔ A/N: I need to read tbhk again, last time I read it was 3 years ago. Maybe I will do part 2, hm?

• Surely your first meeting was in the bathroom of the old school building.

• He will scratch his neck awkwardly when he accidentally scares you (He didn't do it on purpose).

• It was hard for you to tell at first whether he was a girl or a boy but later you could tell from the voice.

• "Hey, am I that scary?"

• "...You are a boy?!"

• He will forgive you if you make him apple donuts.

• True, he grants wishes but it also depends on what kind of wish you make. If it's quite simple it will probably work, if not it will be a little problem but he will try to help you anyway.

• If you are quite close he may tell you little bits of his past but not in detail or things he doesn't want to talk about (Still an achievement).

• PLEASE make him apple donuts, they don't even have to be donuts, it can be something else related to apples, however apple donuts would be the best choice.

• This boy will be happy all day long, even though he would rather eat them all, he will give them to you too because after all you made them for HIM.

• Privacy? What's that? Venti loves affection so expect hugs! The good thing is that he's a ghost so people in your class won't see him sticking up to you.

• Of course he will let you go when he sees that you feel uncomfortable and he will apologize to you. Next time he will remember to ask you.

• Be careful because Venti may disturb you a bit during the lesson, for example by trying to make you laugh. This boy loves your smile!

• Even if you keep your head down, he will find a way to make you look at him. It might cause you to start laughing in the middle of the lesson and everyone will look at you strangely. During the break he will start flying away from you, laughing when you try to catch up with him.

• Don't be surprised if you come back home and find in your notebooks his poems or song lyrics special to you. They are so cute and lovely that sometimes you think they are not for you.

• "Is this really for me?"

• "Who else is it for, silly? Of course it's for you! Awww did you like it??"

• He'll love to hear about your interests and even tell you about his own! You will certainly be talking on the school rooftop or in the bathroom.

• Okay, okay but do you guys remember when Hanako kissed Yashiro on the cheek to cast a protection spell on her? OMGGG Imagine Venti doing that on you!!!

• I'm sure that when you finish all your classes or cleaning the bathroom, he will walk you to the school gate and blow you a kiss once you're out of the school grounds.

• When you enter the bathroom you can see him on the floor defeated by Mokke in a card game. He claims they are invincible because they cheat, but he whispered it to you so that Mokke's army wouldn't suddenly attack him.

• If you have any questions he will be happy to answer them but not all of them about his life, he will try to keep you busy with something else.

• "So... What were you like when you were alive?"

• "Y/N it's time to clean the bathroom! I'd love to sing to you while you work!"

• He saw the dissatisfaction on your face, but what could he do?

• If by some miracle you meet his twin, and let's be honest, you definitely will, whether you want to or not, Venti's behavior will become more serious.

• He didn't want you to meet his twin, especially on such a quiet and amazing day. You could see how Venti was uncomfortable around him and kept you away.

• Even if you were to ask about his brother, that's a topic he won't tell you about (yet) and he doesn't know if he ever wants to tell you. He will most likely hide it with a smile and distract you.

• He may be jealous! But he doesn't really show it, although you can still tell he is. He will pull you away from that person by saying he wants to show you something or that he has a gift for you. He will also start teasing you to get your attention.

• "Come on Y/N. I'm sure your friend won't mind if I steal you away for a while!"

-ˏˋ⋆➔ Genshin Impact Masterlist

-ˏˋ⋆➔ Masterlist

-ˏˋ⋆➔ Rules request

#⁀➴tsukimara #⁀➴Genshin Impact #venti x reader #venti x you #venti x y/n #hanako!venti #venti #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #x reader #x gn reader #gn!reader #genshin impact #genshin #tbhk #jshk

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vodika-vibes · 5 months ago

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Love Is Kind

Summary: When your father moved your family to Mandalore in an attempt to court the various clans on behalf of the Republic, you were obligated to go with him, even though you were in your twenties. You really should have known that you were brought along in the hopes that one of the warriors of Mandalore would pick you as their bride. Too bad for your father that you’ve always known your own mind.

Pairing: Jaster Mereel x F!Reader

Word Count: 1182

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, also Montross is a creep

Tagging: @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97

@falconfeather23435 @etod @bb8-99 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I'm in a Jaster mood and I'm making it all of your problems. Sorry, not sorry. Also, I'm not sure why but tumblr isn't letting me tag some of you. I'm sorry.

Click HERE to join my taglist!

“Good morning, Princess,”

You stifle your eye-roll with the ease of long practice when the familiar, and grating, voice of Montross reaches your ears. The shudder is a lot harder to hide, as his hand slides across your shoulders, but you manage it.

“Good morning, Montross,” You greet as you turn on your stool to regard the much larger man. “I wasn’t aware that you had returned to Mandalore.”

His smile makes your skin crawl, “Did you miss me?”

You smile and neatly side-step his question, “How was your mission?”

He drops onto the stool next to you, his arm still thrown over your shoulder, and he leans into your personal space. “It was amazing. I came face to face with a Jedi.” He boasts, “Killed him too.”

“Hm. Is that right?”

“Oh yeah. Wasn’t even a challenge.” He pushes his hand through his hair, in a movement that was probably supposed to be attractive, but really wasn’t.

You flash a close-mouthed smile, “If it wasn’t hard, Montross, then how can you know it was a Jedi?”

“He had a lightsaber.”

“Those aren’t Jedi specific,” You point out, “Anyone can use a lightsaber. Jedi just use them well.”

“Aw, come on, Princess. You don’t think I could do it?”

“I think if you came face-to-face with a Jedi, we’d be having a funeral right now.” You reply before you duck under his arm.

“Sometimes, Princess, you are so very Republic.”

“What can I say? I like Jedi.”

“You’re a Mandalorian now, sweetheart. You should start thinking like one.” Montross says as he leans a little closer, close enough that you can feel the heat from his skin against yours.

“I think you’ll find that I’m not.”

“You will be when you marry me.”

At that, you turn to look at him. “Not even if you were the last man in the galaxy.” You really should be polite, but you’re done with him and you’re done being polite to him. So you flick your fingers in his direction, “Shoo fly, you’re bothering me.”

You’re aware, vaguely, of offense crossing his face, and you grimace as he stands up so sharply that his stool goes flying.

And then he leans over you, trapping you between the counter and his armor, “Your smart mouth is going to get you in trouble.” Montross warns.

You’re about to reply when another voice, a little deeper but much more welcome to your ears, interrupts, “Come on, verd. She said she’s not interested. This is just embarrassing.”

Montross straightens, “Jaster,” His lip curls, “If she’s not into me, she definitely won’t be into you.”

You turn on your stool again and catch Jaster’s eye, a real smile crossing your face as he winks at you. “I’m not so sure about that, Montross,” Jaster replies with a smug smirk.

You watch an ugly shade of red slide across Montross’ face, and then he stalks out of the restaurant. “He might actually try to hurt you one day, Jaster.” You warn.

“He can try.” Jaster picks up Montross’ abandoned stool, sets it back into place, and then slides it a little closer to you before he sits on it, twisting his body so that his armored knees are brushing against yours. “He didn’t hurt you?”

You rest your chin on the palm of your hand, your smile growing, “If he did, will you go defend my honor?”

“If you phrase it right,” Jaster replies with an answering grin, “I might do it even if he didn’t.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, “Are you sure you’re uninjured?” He asks, his voice soft and for your ears alone.

“I am.”

“I’m glad.” He closes his hand over yours, and keeps his gaze locked with yours, “Montross thinks you’re going to pick him. He feels entitled to your affection.”

“How sad for him,” You reply, your voice just as soft, “I have my eyes on someone else.”

“Oh? Do I know him?” Jaster teases.

You flip your hand and thread your fingers with his, “You might.”

His gaze drops to your joined hands, and then snaps back to your face, “Do you want to go for a walk?” Jaster asks, his gaze serious.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

He flashes a small smile and sets some credits on the counter to pay for your caf and cake, and then he gets to his feet and lightly tugs you to join him.

You, happily, press yourself against his side as you leave the restaurant together. Warmth runs down your spine as he lazily rubs circles on your hand with his thumb.

Whenever you’re with Jaster, you feel safe and warm. As though nothing in the galaxy can touch you so long as you’re with him.

It’s one of the many reasons that you love him.

And you do love him.

And, you’re pretty sure, he feels the same way.

Jaster leads you through the busy streets, only stopping when you reach a quiet area on the edge of the town. It’s just the two of you, surrounded by trees and flowers, and you can’t help but think that he could have brought you to an old warehouse, filled with broken droids, and it would still have been the most romantic thing ever.

He smiles at you and releases your hand, only so he’s able to lightly cup your face with his hands. Jaster tilts your head so you’re looking right at him, and his smile widens. “You know,” He murmurs, “In those old holofilms, where the male protagonist claims that his love interest is his whole world, they always sounded dramatic to me.”

You press your hands over his, “They’re supposed to be, I think.” You reply with a fond smile.

“Maybe so,” He slowly leans in and presses his forehead against yours, “But I really am holding my whole world in the palms of my hands.” Jaster sounds awed, as though he can’t believe what he’s feeling.

Your face burns with slightly flustered embarrassment and your heart swoops with excited joy, “Jaster—”

“I love you,” He whispers, and then a broad grin crosses his face, “I love you.”

You can’t help the delighted laugh that falls from your lips as you release his hands and fling your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a, slightly awkward, kiss.

Though it’s only awkward because he wasn’t expecting it.

Jaster’s arms wrap around you, holding you securely as he hovers his lips just over yours, “Does that mean you—?”

“I love you.” You breathe against his lips, “I love you, I love you, I love—” You’re not able to finish the phrase, as his lips seal over yours stealing your words and your breath.

You don’t mind. Both belong to him anyway.

Your parents aren’t going to be thrilled. Your stepmother had plans to marry you off to the son of an Alderaanian aristocrat. Your father would prefer that you pick a member from a larger clan than Clan Mereel.

But you’ve made your choice…and they’re just going to have to live with it.

#star wars #star wars legends #jaster mereel x reader #jaster x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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nellielsss · 6 months ago

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ɬɧɛ ცơყ ıʂ ɱıŋɛ… ℘ɬ ıı

Summary: A part two to The Boy Is Mine! Due to its massive success (over 400 likes!!), I decided to add two more chars who I thought could fit this trope w/ a yandere reader. I was also inspired to add more because of a lovely commenter on my pt. 1! (@ahoeindeedinneed) Note: I've been seeing sm heian era Sukuna fics and they're all so yummy... still hate Sukuna tho 💋 I also didn't proofread this so it might have a fewwwww grammatical errors Incl: cult leader!Suguru Geto & heian era!Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader CW: death, reader is a highly flawed person, mentions of sex, stockholm syndrome (esp. with Sukuna)

Sυɠυɾυ Gҽƚσ

╰┈➤ There comes a part in every parent's life when they must let their dear daughter spread their wings and fly out of the nest, so naturally your parents had some fears when they let you fly into the future. To make their fears even worse, you were rather naïve to the intentions of others, and your beauty made you all the more susceptible to the manipulations of other, dangerous people. One of those fears, although quite bizarre, is that their dearest daughter would somehow get wrapped up in a deadly & dangerous cult and end up beyond all salvation.

What they couldn't have predicted, though, was that their daughter would end up enamored with the leader of a cult who went by the name of Suguru Geto.

You still remember the first time you walked into the monk's temple.

You, much like him, were a Jujutsu sorcerer, only you were pretty weak, barely a 3rd-grade sorcerer. Your parents also never allowed you to explore the world of Jujutsu, saying that it only led to pain and suffering. Even the strongest of sorcerers were susceptible to falling victim to these curses. As a 3rd-grade sorcerer, you had enough power to defend yourself from curses that you could potentially encounter in your daily life, so, in their minds, that was all you needed to get by with.

That poor cat--if only it was able to withstand curiosity and go on to live a happy life... some would consider you a cat in this case, and they weren't wrong.

You had heard of a monk by the name of Suguru Geto who had a vast knowledge of curses and all things Jujutsu. So, when your friend had fallen victim to a pretty serious curse that left them in bad shape, and you weren't able to heal her, you set out for the monk's temple that was located just outside of Tokyo, hoping that this mysterious and enigmatic man would be able to help you somehow.

He also remembers the day in which you and him first met. He remembers the door opening and the sight of your frantic, borderline hysterical state of duress, as well as the woman who you were holding up.

"Are you Suguru Geto?!" your honeyed voice asked the moment you were able to catch your breath. He remembers catching a glimpse of your beautiful face for the very first time, and he also remembers the intensity of his heartbeat when he fully took in your appearance.

You were wearing a pink sweater on that day, and a few drops of blood that came from your friend's injuries had stained part of your sleeve.

You were in dire need of some assistance, and who was he to deny a beautiful woman such as yourself what you needed?

"Why yes, I am Suguru Geto," he said, sitting up from where he lounged. "Your friend looks to be in bad shape. Might I ask why you came to me instead of a hospital?"

"I went to a hospital yesterday, but all they could do was patch up her wounds on the outside--she won't stop bleeding!" You said, the panic evident in your normally sweet voice. Tears had already stained your face, and your relaxed eyes were shot open in worry. "A curse attacked her the day before yesterday, but I haven't been able to find anyone who could properly treat her, and I don't know how to treat her wounds with my own power! Please, sir, please just help her! I was told that you could do amazing things to those who were affected by curses, and I'm worried she's not gonna make it!!"

Oh? So you knew about & could see curses? This was perfect for him. A pretty lady who wasn't a filthy monkey... even though you were weak in terms of ability, it was better than nothing.

"Those bastards in jujutsu society were never good for anything, were they?" Geto muttered under his breath. He beckoned you closer with a hand and asked you to come closer. "Please, let me take a look, miss."

With a shaky, weak grip, you brought your friend over to where he laid, and he took a closer look at her. "I haven't eaten much since she was injured, so it took me a while to get up here."

"All that matters is that she's here, no?" he asked, still looking at your friend. "Hm... she is in pretty bad shape. Looks like the doing of a first grade curse... She was lucky to have survived this attack in her current condition."

With shaky hands clasped together, you looked up at him again. "So can you help her?"

"Of course I can, Miss...?"

"(L/N)."

"Of course I can, Miss (L/N). It's nothing a quick technique can't patch up," he said, offering you a reassuring smile. If you weren't in such a panicked state, you would've thought that he was flirting with you. "I can keep her here for a couple of days while she heals. Rest assured that she'll be good as new by the time you return."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, sir!" you exclaimed, a smile returning to your gorgeous features. "I can't thank you enough!"

He gave you a humble smile and nodded. "It's my duty to help those in need."

"So, is there gonna be some kind of payment required or...?"

"Hm?" he hummed. "What kind of a sorcerer would I be if I charged for my services? No, miss, this is free-of-charge."

"Really?!" you asked again, getting excited. "Oh my god, thank you so much! You really are a blessing, Mr. Geto!"

"Well, as a jujutsu sorcerer, it's my duty to ensure that our society is free of pain, and that includes curses." He stood up again, and so did you. While you were wearing heels in that moment, he was quite tall in comparison to you. His long, bountiful hair and the monk robes that he wore only added to his presence, and you couldn't help but feel a little small next to him. "She'll be able to go home within only 3 days time at the latest. You're welcome to stop by and check in on how she's doing in the meanwhile."

You nodded and continued to smile at Geto. "Okay, sounds good. Thank you so much again--she probably would've died without your help."

Because she's a monkey.

"Again, it's no problem," he reassured you kindly. "Have a good afternoon, Miss (L/N)."

"You too," you said, beginning to walk away from the monk.

He didn't know what possessed him to ask you this next question, but he thanks whoever's watching him for making him do so. "Miss (L/N)," he called out to you. "If you don't mind, there is something you could do in return for me."

You stopped in your tracks and looked behind at him. "What can I do for you?"

"You said you didn't have much power in you, correct?" he asked, making your happy expression turn into one of puzzle.

"Um... yeah. Why do you ask?"

He thought about how he could word this without coming across as weird. "How would you like to raise that power of yours?"

"What do you mean?"

"Become my protégé, (L/N)," he said, now extending his arms towards you. "With my help, I can make sure you're equipped to handle any future battles or curses with confidence. I'm told I'm a miracle worker, and I'm sure I could make something strong out of you, miss."

You were both starstruck and confused at the same time. Here you were, asking this man to heal your friend, and now he wanted you to become a student of his? "You wanna... mentor me?"

"Is that not what I asked?" he opened his eyes this time, his dark brown pupils staring right at you. "You have the capacity to do amazing things in the future, Miss (L/N). Although you may not think you do, there's a great power inside of you, and I think that I could help you unlock it. Would you do me the honor of letting me mentor you?"

Words couldn't describe how you were feeling in this very moment. All you've ever wanted was to be a strong, capable woman without the help of others, and your parents never let you do so growing up. In came a strong, handsome, capable & humble man who was asking to help better you? Although every part of you was telling you to leave and to forget about it, the pull you felt towards this charismatic man was trumping the logical part of you, and your feet began to move towards him.

His smile grew once he saw you coming towards you, and he said: "that's it, there we go." Once he had you in arm's reach, he pulled you into his arms and gave you a reassuring embrace.

"You won't regret this, Miss (L/N)."

You didn't expect that choice to make you the lover and right-hand woman of a cult leader, but you were glad you did--the new you was, anyway.

Honestly, you didn't even see the cult part coming. Sure, Geto was a monk who healed people with spiritual abilities (and taught you how to better yours), but by then you didn't even flinch when he told you he was a cult leader. He didn't outright say it until it was time for your initiation, anyway--he said that joining his "group" would only better your abilities.

It's not like you were some low-ranking member; you were actually Suguru's right-hand woman. Well, more like his pet, but he made you believe that you were his equal (even when you were a measly grade 2 & he was a special grade). Suguru made you believe that you were stronger, that you were better than everyone else in this filthy, disgusting, monkey-ridden world.

Like when you had your head in his lap & he was playing with your silky soft hair (one of the perks of being Suguru's girlfriend was you getting access to his incredible hair!). "You have such nice hair, y'know, (Y/N)?" he murmured, running his long fingers through your tresses. "It's so soft, so shiny--probably better than mine, if we're being honest."

"Now you know that that's a lie, Sugu," you prodded him, making him chuckle deeply in his chest.

"It's not a lie--at least, not a lie to me, and we both know that my opinion reigns supreme." Even when the two of you were just playing around, he always managed to slip in some of his ego every now and then. "Better than all those monkeys out there... such dirty, disgusting creatures, most of them probably have the greasiest and filthiest hair imaginable."

"Sugu..." you trailed off. Part of you wanted to defend those monkeys, but the other part of you agreed with him. Maybe it was all the sermons that he preached to his Jujutsu sorcerer followers, or maybe it was the conditioning that he'd put you through all these months, but you couldn't exactly refute his sentiment. While yes, there were some people with nice hair, the majority of the people out there had shitty, unwashed hair. Bleached, dead-ends, greasy strands, all kinds of hair existed in the "regular" world, the one that you were kept safe from by Suguru. What more could you need when you lived in his forest temple & had servants doing all your errands for you? What more could you need when you had the most loving, attentive & handsome boyfriend in the entire world?

"You're such a treat, (Y/N)," he remarked, now scratching your scalp. "I don't know what I'd do without you, not when I have to deal with all these disgusting monkeys praying at my feet & begging me for help. Can't they just learn how to get by on their own? The world would be-"

"Suguru," you said a bit firmly, planting your finger on his lips. "You're rambling again."

His slightly irritated expression softened up a bit & he smiled at you again. "My apologies, sweetheart," he said, reaching down to kiss your forehead. "You know how I get."

He was so grateful to have you there by his side, keeping him calm & grounding him. When he has to deal with so many monkeys, it's no wonder he can get ticked off by the slightest issue.

And those monkeys were no slight issue.

Which is why you deemed it alright to kill so many of his followers.

It's not like you wanted to kill those people... actually, no, you did. It's no secret that Suguru was one of the handsomest, most charismatic people out there. Not only did he possess formidable strength & intellect, but he also blessed with a kind of male beauty & a silver tongue to go along with it. Many of his followers joined his cult just so they could catch a glimpse of the infamous monk's graceful, elegant features and the shiny, silky, midnight hair that seemed to reflect the light of the lamps in his temple.

Not only that, but he was also quite good in bed. He made you feel so seen, so loved, so adored & worshipped like you were the cult leader that he couldn't get enough of. His strong, muscled form contrasted against your soft, squishy one was delicious, and it had you squirming all night long. Everything about him was just incredible!

Except for those stupidly horny followers.

Did they really think that they had a chance with him? That the very same man who called them trash (behind their backs) would tear his eyes from you & look their way?

If only they could all hear just how vile he speaks of them... well, if they did, then he wouldn't have a cult following.

Which is why you, the ever-loyal and ever-present girlfriend, had to do the dirty work for him. Did he ask you to kill them off? No, but it sure felt good to do something for him without needing to be asked.

None of them were memorable enough anyway. If they died or were maimed in a terrible accident, then he wouldn't bat an eyelash; he'd probably crack a smile and say "one less monkey in this world."

But, ugh, even the monkeys had their own beauty... sometimes.

Like the monkey whose beauty was so captivating that the other monkeys looked at her for a second before looking back at Suguru. How dare she disrupt his sermons like that; how dare she be such an annoying nuisance! Did she not know that she was in the presence of the great Suguru Geto?! The monk who they sought out in the first place?!

Monkeys really could be tainted by the most stupid of things. So what if she had red hair and a nice chest? Suguru was infinitely times more beautiful than her--that cretin was lucky to even be here when she should really be in a body bag off a shady highway!

It's not like Suguru even cared about the woman. If she had any cursed energy--which she didn't, then maybe he'd acknowledge her as one of his own, one of the chosen ones. But as long as she was a lowly monkey, none of that shit mattered. No amount of beauty or boobs could change what she was.

A monkey.

A monkey who needed to be disposed of.

As long as Suguru stood by your side, you'd do anything for him. Even if he didn't ask you to, you'd still do what was best for you both. How else was he supposed to recruit people to his great cause?

"Master Geto, that was truly a wonderful service," that redheaded monkey said once she finally had an opening. "I can't express how grateful I am to have become a member of your sect... you truly are a wonderful man--everything you stand for is just amazing!"

"You're just too kind," Geto replied in a fake-sincere tone. You could see the repulsion in his face & his body language, the way he stood slightly off to the side from her like he'd get a disease if he came too close. You were busy polishing a bowl that he used for his ceremonies, and you swore that if it wasn't fine china, you would've broken it into shards minutes ago.

'How dare that cunt come close to the great Suguru Geto--how dare she overstep her boundaries! Doesn't she know her place as a follower of his? A minion? She should speak when spoken to-'

"And you, miss, were also quite nice," the monkey said to you, breaking you out of your thoughts. Your grip on the bowl tightened, and a crack could be seen from where your thumb & index finger gripped it.

"Oh... well, thank you!" You replied in an equally fake tone. You were probably more disgusted at this moment than Geto, and that sure was a remarkable feat.

It was hard not to be disgusted when an ill-natured monkey made obvious advances towards your man.

"She sure is great, isn't she?" Geto said suddenly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "She volunteered to help me with my ceremonies, and who was I to say no? Things couldn't run so smoothly if not for her!"

"What a remarkable act of kindness!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Perhaps one day I'll be so lucky."

No she won't.

"Perhaps..." Geto trailed off, clearly trying to get out of this conversation quicker. The sooner you and him could get to his girls and take them out for crepes, the better--but monkeys like her have the audacity to ruin your planned days.

Maybe... maybe it'd be best to get rid of her today. That way, she wouldn't even have the chance to disrupt your outing.

"Come now, beloved," Geto said to you. "Mimiko and Nanako have been dying to try them out, even more so with their beloved surrogate mother."

"Suguru, don't call me that! We've only been together for a year, I couldn't possibly be their mother!"

"It's much too late for that, sweetheart. Mimi and Nana already view you as such--they're just begging me to make things official already. Would you be so cruel as to deny them what they want?"

You shook your head and leaned into his shoulder, letting him plant a kiss on the top of your head. "Well, they sure are well-behaved girls. Anyone would be lucky to be their mother."

Geto moved his hand to the small of your back and started guiding you out of the room. "Come now, dear, let's change out of these robes and into something more comfortable, hm?"

"Actually, I think I need to do something first. Don't wait up for me, though; I'll catch up with the three of you later."

"Hm? What do you-" for some reason, Geto stopped talking and instead let a knowing look pass over his face. "Alright, then. Don't be too long--the crepes will be eaten up before you know it."

"Okay, I won't! I promise," you giggled, reaching up to plant a kiss on his cheek. You patted his chest and he let you go, walking out of the room while smiling to himself.

Now, it was your turn to smile.

"Oh, miss!" You called out to the monkey before she left the room. "You said you wanted to become a ceremony helper one day, correct?"

Her face lit up with a big smile and she nodded enthusiastically. "I would love to!" You didn't even have to do any convincing, she was just that stupid. Your smiled grew in malice and you waved her over.

"Well, your training starts today," you said, guiding her over to where the bowl was. "Today, you're going to learn how to properly wash a ceremony bowl. Now, these things are quite delicate, and the things we put in them are difficult to wash out, but we must do so in order for the ceremony to be properly carried out."

You grabbed a thing of soap (it was some cheap shit you bought at the Konbini), poured some out into the fine china, and you washed it. It really wasn't difficult--there was nothing to pray for here--but it gave you an opening.

"Do you know what we worship here at this temple, miss?" You asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Of course I do! I.... uh, we worship..."

You sighed, shaking your head and tch-ing your tongue. "Bad little monkey," you said, your voice just dripping with mock sincerity.

"... what did you just call me?"

"Did your monkey ears fail you? I called you a bad little monkey," you spat, no longer feeling the need to put up a front. "I'll tell you what we believe in since we're so stupid: we believe in the eradication of monkeys like YOU!!"

Suddenly, you grabbed the bowl with both hands & smashed it over her head with enough force to make her fall to the floor. "P-Please, someone-" you had already made her cough up blood when she fell to the floor, the red liquid splashing and staining the paper walls.

"Nobody's gonna help you, you stupid chimp," you spat, grabbing her hair and throwing her around the room. "All the other monkeys have gone home, and you're the only one who stayed! Just your luck, huh? Well, this only makes it easier for me to do--less monkeys to kill!!"

She attempted to crawl away, only for you to kick her with your sandal, effectively breaking her nose. "I simply don't get it--why are you so stupid? Master Geto would never let you be in his ceremonies, you're much too disgusting and tainted to be in them. All you monkeys do is slaughter, taint, and ruin everything! At least, that's what Master Geto taught me." You shook your head and watched her crawl away with a sinister smile on her face. She was holding her broken nose with one hand and crawling with the other, the fear etched into her face like a scripture.

"Aren't monkeys supposed to swing and jump around? Why aren't you swinging--are you so weak that you can't even do what you were born to do?" You grabbed her arm and twisted it, making her screech in pain. You could already see the bone sticking out, and that delighted you to no end. You forcefully turned her over and got a good look at her face, the unbridled fear and terror in her gaze like a delicious dessert.

"I'm going to show you what happens when monkeys fly too close to the sun," you said ominously, bending down to her level. "You may be pretty for a monkey, but you're still nothing but an animal, a primitive thing that needs to be eradicated and put in its place. We already have enough of you running around and destroying shit; Master Geto certainly doesn't need you destroying his place."

"Please... I'll..."

"What, do anything?" You let out a cackle, throwing your head back and laughing. "Whatever you're offering, we're not interested. You got that? You got that through your silly little pea brain?" You then grabbed her hair and bent her head back, allowing you access to her neck and chest.

"It's too bad, you couldn't just do as you were told and stay away from him... the only way you'll learn is by an example, so this better be exemplary enough."

You grabbed the bowl shards from the floor and held it up in the air, a sadistic smile the last thing she saw before the porcelain struck her neck. You dug a deep gash into her neck & trailed it all the way down to her neck, the blood spewing everywhere and ruining your kimono. You didn't care, though; you were just having so much fun killing this stupid monkey!

With each stab, each thrust of your makeshift weapon, your smile grew in size & your laughs became more deranged. "Die... die... die, die, die, die, DIE, YOU STUPID MONKEY!!!" You screamed, leaving her body nothing but a bloodied, gash-ridden corpse. She was practically unrecognizable now, and if you continued, her entrails probably would've come out. Once you were sure she was bloodied enough, you stepped back, letting out a relieved sigh.

"One less annoying monkey in this world..."

"My apologies, I seem to have interrupted something," Geto's voice suddenly said from the hallway.

Your heart dropped into your stomach when you realized that he'd just watched you tear apart one of his followers. You were sure that he wouldn't care, that he'd reward you with a kiss and a hug...

... but right now, you were afraid that he'd toss you out as well.

After all, she was his follower, so he should've been the one to kill her. And... and you--you were supposed to be the untainted, pure-hearted girlfriend;

You were supposed to be the loving and motherly mother to his daughters;

You weren't supposed to be the one shedding blood for that was his job, not yours;

You were supposed to know where you stood.

"No... just ignore her, just-" your voice suddenly caught in your throat & you crawled away, a part of you fearing that he'd cast you out once again & leave you to the wolves.

You curled up into a ball and hid your bloodied hands & face from his eyes to see. After all, a man like him shouldn't bear witness to such carnage.

"(Y/N), you really can be quite silly sometimes... although, now you smell a bit." He reached into his pocket and took out monkey repellent, spraying you a little bit.

You looked at him in confusion as he sprayed you, your brow furrowed in how taken aback you were instead of how scared you were.

"Eh?"

"Did you not hear me? I said you smell like a monkey--you have its blood on you, after all." He took off your outer robe and threw it to the side of the room, covering her mangled corpse, further shielding the both of you from the sight of her. "And now we have to burn it... Couldn't you have at least worn something disposable?" the entire time, he was walking you over to the sink in order to rinse you of monkey blood.

You just stood there in silence, looking at him like he had now turned into a gorilla.

"What's with the look, darling?" he asked, "isn't it obvious?"

"... no, not really."

"Oh, my precious angel," he said, cradling you to his chest suddenly. "Don't you know that a being as precious as you shouldn't be so close to monkeys like her, much less touching her? I wouldn't want you to get infected with monkey-disease!" He exclaimed, acting like you had stage 4 brain cancer.

"But... aren't you mad at me for killing one of your followers?"

"Mad?" he scoffed, shaking his head at the notion of getting mad at you over getting rid of a monkey. "The only thing I'm mad about, dearest, is the fact that you felt the need to kill her with your own bare hands. You could've asked me to do it; I could've just killed her with a curse and went on my way."

"So, you're upset at me for touching her when you could've done it yourself."

"Bingo! My, you're such a smart girl," he exclaimed, a smiling returning to his features. "You're a sacred treasure, dear, a gift from whatever being sent you to me." He leaned down, nuzzling his nose against your neck in a display of affection. "I'll be damned if any of those monkeys taint you. From now on, if you ever feel the need to kill a monkey, I want you to come directly to me. No stalling or dilly-dallying; if anyone's going to be infected with monkey disease, I'd want it to be me."

"Suguru..." you burst out into laughter, shaking your head in amusement. "You really are something else!"

"I can't help it that I hate those monkeys."

Rყσɱҽɳ Sυƙυɳα

╰┈➤ Your entire life was filled with pity from the moment you were born, and probably to the moment you'd take your last breath, too. From the older courtesans of the pleasure house that you stayed in since your toddlerhood, to the moment you were taken away from them, everyone looked at you with nothing but pity. Even if people looked at you with disgust, they'd still somehow find a way to pity you.

'It's a pity that she has to resort to being such trash; she doesn't belong in a place like this,' one of the pedestrians of the Shibata Pleasure District said when she saw you posing for the pleasure house in which you resided in.

It truly was a pity how beautiful you looked, all dolled up with pins in your hair... only for some disgusting, wretched man to tear them out of your head & force you to do his bidding in one of the many rooms that the house had to offer. And what's worse is that you'd be forced to do the same task over & over again until you were deemed too old or sold off to some Samurai who'd no doubt make you do more disgusting, vile acts for his pleasure.

Every single day was the same. Every single day you'd wake up, get ready for your work (with one of your "sisters" helping you out), pose for the passersby, let them spend a couple hours making you do whatever lewd activities they were in the mood for, then rinse & repeat.

Every day was like dreaded clockwork. The only thing worse than this was homelessness & starvation which was your future if you ran away from the pleasure house.

Every night was spent dreaming over a handsome, noble Samurai who would swoop in and save you from this hellish nightmare. You knew that honorable noblemen were few and far in between--you'd heard the horrid tales of so-called "sorcerers" who did nothing but kill and maim each other--but was a girl not allowed to dream? Was a girl supposed to repeat this cycle without something to hold onto?

Who you didn't expect to be your savior, though, was the most horrid one of them all.

You still remember the look of pity your fellow courtesans gave you when you were taken, by carriage, to the most notorious warlord's compound for his own entertainment.

You still remember the fear in the eyes of the other girls who were chosen to attend this event.

You still remember the impending sense of doom you felt when you arrived at Ryomen Sukuna's estate.

You didn't remember the names of most of the warlords of your time, but the one that stuck out to you was the man who now had the ability to buy you off. Ryomen Sukuna was especially famous for his unabashed, unadulterated methods of killing. According to legend, the four-eyed, four-armed man would tear the heads of his enemies off their bodies & drink their blood like it was green tea. He had a throne of bones, and he was proud of who he was.

According to your sisters, if a concubine upset or made Sukuna mad, he'd kill them & drink their blood, much like how he treated his opponents on the battlefield. He wasn't a forgiving man, and he didn't pity those who showed signs of weakness.

But he'd be damned if he'd ever change his ways. He was Ryomen Sukuna, after all--who did he take orders from? The Emperor? That man should be lucky that he was even allowed to live.

You remembered the way you shook in fear when you saw the warlord for the very first time. He was as terrifying & menacing as the legends described him, but, you weren't allowed to leave or go home; no, you were expected to sing, dance & entertain the people at his party.

Unfortunately for you, when all four of Sukuna's eyes landed on you, you were now expected to directly entertain him.

He remembered the sense of intrigue he felt when he laid his eyes on you. You weren't one of the Oiran that usually served him--you were a mid-ranking courtesan, but to him, you might as well have been the madame herself.

The way you stood so composed despite the overwhelming sense of fear & nervousness that made you slightly tremble with each step you took; the way your kimono so perfectly complimented your appearance; that deliciously naïve and innocent demeanor of yours...

You were like a flower waiting to be plucked and thrown into a pit of debauchery. He'd be damned if any of his ignorant fellows got to do it first--he had to be the one to savor each drop of you.

It was a pity that you were only a mid-ranking courtesan, where had you been all this time? You should've already been made one of his personal concubines.

"That one," Sukuna's deep, rumbling voice said to Uraume, his right-hand person.

"The one in the red and pink kimono?"

"Yes, her. Bring her over to me at once, Uraume." Uraume was probably the only person he ever addressed by name.

"As you wish, Master Sukuna," they said with a bow. They got up from their seat and walked over to you, and now you could feel the dull feeling of fear expanding into a panicked alarm. The other courtesans there knew that Uraume did whatever Sukuna bid of them, so for them to approach you could only mean one thing: Sukuna had requested you.

Again, they all looked at you in pity as Uraume guided you to where the warlord sat.

The next morning, they watched in pity as the madame delivered the news that Sukuna had purchased you and was requesting you at once. Even the Oirans, the unfeeling, unforgiving bunch that they were, couldn't help but pity you in that moment.

"Please.... no, please--you can't let him take me!!" You screeched inside of your room, already in complete fear of what could potentially happen to you.

"It's too late. Lord Sukuna has already bought off your contract, and he's even paid handsomely so--he paid as much as he would've for an Oiran! I'm sorry, (L/N), but you need to go. The deal is already done."

All the fight left your body once she turned to walk away from you, and you felt the hot, silent tears stream down your face. There was no point in fighting when the deal was finalized, right?

The next morning, all of your sisters helped you pack up your belongings. Out of all 20 courtesans who had gone to the estate, you were the only one personally chosen by him. You were the only one who he felt was captivating enough to become one of his concubines, and you felt like the unluckiest girl in the entire world.

You sobbed the entire time you packed your belongings; you sobbed the entire carriage ride there; and you sobbed when his servants unloaded your things.

You had always dreamed of being rescued from this place, so why did it feel like you were being transferred to maximum security?

It might've been your need to please everyone around you and act as a doormat, and it also might've been the fact that you'd been trapped here for so long that you couldn't remember what life was like, but you were actually starting to like being one of Sukuna's concubines.

No... it wasn't either of the aforementioned reasons; it was the fact that when he looked at you, he didn't see pity. For the first time in your life, you weren't pitied for stuff that was beyond your control. All the other estate workers, the generals, and even Sukuna's righthand person, Uraume, they had all looked upon you in pity, pity that this bloodthirsty barbarian of a warlord had chosen you to be his concubine.

Make no mistake--Sukuna wasn't a nice person at all, nor did he treat you with a normal sense of decency, but he didn't look at you as some pitiful creature that needed saving. No; he looked at you and saw what he could turn your pretty face into: his own personal plaything.

Little by little, Sukuna started breaking you in. He had you dressed in the finest of kimonos, had you and the other girls attend Kabuki theatre shows, and put on the grandest of parties just for the fun of it. Though he only had 5 concubines at a time, you 5 were spoiled and fed more than enough to keep yourselves satisfied.

But there was something about you that made him personally notice you. The other 4 concubines were just toys that were kept around because they were able to take what he dished out, girls that he could just interchange with other girls. He made no effort to remember their names, only calling them by different types of flowers. To him, they were literally property, ornaments to be displayed whenever he had guests. Truth be told, that very same treatment and classification was why he was so feared, especially considering the fact that he didn't care about getting rid of property that didn't suit his needs anymore.

For instance, one of the girls, Suzuran, had been caught sleeping with one of his generals. His solution? Cutting off their heads and feeding them to the wolves, and making sure that the four remaining girls watched the entire spectacle so as to remind you that you were all just as disposable as she was. By next week, he had a replacement already lined up to take her place.

You lived those first few months in his grand estate in nothing but fear, making extra sure that you didn't piss him off enough to end up like Suzuran. Sukuna's estate might've been hell, but you didn't actually wanna go to Hell itself.

But when Sukuna started showing you special treatment, that was when you lived your life with less fear.

"(Y/N)," Uraume, Sukuna's righthand person, called out to you when you were in the garden. You were watching the koi fish when you heard the white-haired person say your name, and you immediately stood up. "Master Sukuna requests your presence at once."

This was bad, you thought. Uraume was only ever sent out when things were important, so for them to do this? It could only spell trouble.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded. "Lead me to Master Sukuna."

With you following close behind, Uraume led you all the way to his living quarters on the other side of his palatial estate, your wooden sandals clicking on the floor. The entire time, you were going through the motions of what could possibly happen to you. Maybe you'd slipped up when you dropped your bowl of soup the other day & embarrassed yourself, or maybe he was just tired of your presence and wanted to get rid of you.

It wouldn't be the first time or the last time.

Finally, Uraume knocked on the grand doors of Sukuna's room, and he ordered for the two of you to enter. Funnily enough, you've never actually been inside of his room, due to the fact that he's never once had sex with you or touched you in any sexual manner. He's never personally called for you like this, either--you didn't know why he chose you to be his concubine if you never made any sort of contact with the man.

"Leave," he said simply, telling whichever concubine was in his lap to go, along with Uraume. His four eyes watched the two of them leave, and as the door shut behind you, you felt as though your fate was sealed.

Sukuna's room was nothing short of grand. There was a huge set of armor set up against one of the paper walls, and there were lanterns all over his room. His silk bedsheets were red and pink, and that color scheme was spread throughout the room as well. There was also a huge painting depicting a rather brutal scene of a town being dragged to hell, one that you had to tear your eyes from.

"Come closer, (Y/N)." Now this was an odd request. He only ever referred to the others by their respective flowers, not by their first names (he didn't see any reason for attaching names to his property).

With a few, shaky steps, you made your way towards him. Even on the huge bed that was personally made for him, he still filled up half the mattress, his immense size commanding authority.

"Sit on the bed," he added to which you did. You felt his four eyes take in the sight of your beautiful form in that pink kimono. You were supposed to be the Chrysanthemum of Sukuna's collection, and as such you and your handmaidens dressed in shades of pink and yellow. "Must you avoid looking at me?"

Your eyes shot up when he asked that, and you, again, swallowed the lump in your throat. "A-Apologies, Master Sukuna," you said nervously, the sweat beading down your face.

He didn't say anything, instead reaching out to caress your hair, the long, silky locks like butter to his calloused hands. "All this time spent in my estate, and you still act as though you're a little fawn," he bemused, his finger now moving to your face. He ran one sharp, black fingernail across your cheek, now taking in your face. After some more silence, he asked: "do you know why I chose you to be my Chrysanthemum, (Y/N)?"

"N-No, Master Sukuna, but I assume it was for a wonderful reason," you replied shakily.

"Indeed it was," he hummed, not saying anything else. "Your performance skills. I took a liking to them," he said, now touching your chin with his fingernails.

"You did?"

"None of those other sad sacks of meat can play the Biwa nor dance as well as you do," he replied with a grin. "To me, they're just flowers I can put on display in pretty little vases until they wither and die. Now, answer me this: do you know why I chose you to be my Chrysanthemum?"

You looked at him in confusion, wondering why he put emphasis on the flower, and you furrowed your brow. "Unfortunately, I do not, Master Sukuna."

"It's because..." his finger trailed down to your neck, "chrysanthemums last the longest." His eyes suddenly flickered up to yours. "And I plan on keeping you here for a very, very long time."

The rest of that encounter was spent with you playing the Biwa for a couple hours before he ordered you to go to dinner. Not once did he ask you for a sexual favor, not once did he defile you; he simply wanted to listen to your playing the Biwa.

Perhaps Sukuna wasn't as bad as the stories made him out to be... perhaps, perhaps he was more than just a bloodthirsty barbarian.

He certainly looked at you as more than a mere flower for display.

As the months flew by and the seasons changed, and the girls were replaced as they withered and died, you remained the only constant thing in the estate outside of its employees. Even then, some of the servants were executed and disposed of. When one of the chefs cooked your fish incorrectly, Sukuna had him gutted like one.

Speaking of, the special treatment that Sukuna gave you increased in frequency. He was always giving you the best kimonos out of all the other girls, the hairpins that you received were made out of the shiniest jewels and silver, and the way he looked at you made you feel like the brightest flower in all the garden.

In exchange for his treatment, you were expected to play the Biwa for him whenever he was bored. Sometimes it'd be several hours during the day, other times it'd be for merely an hour. Usually, those were the days he spent planning attacks or wartime efforts.

In all these months of special treatment, he never once had sex or demanded that you perform any favors for him. It was merely the playing of the Biwa that he wanted. Sometimes, he'd even have you dance for him and a few of his generals.

"Lord Sukuna, I hear that you've never once had her in your bed," one of his drunken generals said to the warlord. "If it's not too much to ask, would you mind if I?-"

"Uraume, dispose of this man at once," Sukuna commanded of them, and they did as they were told. They hauled the man out of there and chopped off his arms before feeding him to the wolves.

A small smile cracked on your features when he performed that little act of kindness for you.

The other girls, the jealous flowers that they were, took note of your special treatment as well. They knew their places, and they knew that all they were good for was for decoration and getting him off, and the fact that you were Sukuna's precious little chrysanthemum pissed them off to no end.

It was never more than petty little squabbles or snide comments behind your back, and as a result you never paid them any mind.

Why would you when you're the only one who hasn't been executed in all the months you've spent time at the estate?

Whenever you walked by them beside Sukuna, you couldn't help the sly little smirk that etched itself onto your normally calm face. It felt so good to be envied after being pitied for so much time.

The downside of this inflated ego of yours was the resentment that the other girls harbored towards you. If they were to be executed so quickly and disposed of within mere months of their arrival, then they might as well act on their anger, right?

It was after the arrival of the newest concubine that things took a turn for the worse. The latest addition to his floral collection, the Orchid was a girl who hailed from the very city of Tokyo itself. She was dubbed the Queen of Pleasure, rumored to have serviced the Emperor himself on numerous occasions.

Rumor also had it that Sukuna was highly interested in her and her ways of pleasure. The other girls were also quite irritated by all the time he spent fucking her brains out in his quarters, meaning that not only did they have to compete with your skills of entertaining and playing the Biwa, but they also had to compete with her bedroom skills.

But, when it came down to picking someone to hate on, they still picked you.

"Well, at least it's not her getting every ounce of his attention. I mean, all we'd really have to do is play some kind of instrument, and then we'd be able to one-up her."

It seemed as though any concubine who set foot in Sukuna's estate was destined to hate you, and this Orchid girl was no different. She knew that nobody else derived the same sexual satisfaction from your beloved warlord that she did, and she made sure to rub it in your face. She didn't even refer to you by your flower name; she called you Biwa for the instrument that you played for Sukuna!

Still, you never let it get to you. Just because she was good in bed doesn't mean that she'd become his prized flower that easily; if he found a girl who was better at pleasuring him than she was, she'd no doubt be cast aside and executed.

Being seen as the flower you were and not a piece of meat was more important anyway, right?

But you couldn't help but worry when the staff, themselves, began to gossip amongst one another. Rumors fluttered about that she was going to become the heir to Sukuna's children, the one who would help carry on his bloodline.

When you heard that, you almost snapped the neck of your Biwa off. You had to get a replacement ordered ASAP.

But all hope wasn't lost, for the next time you ran into the Orchid was the last time you'd ever see her.

It was when you were delivering a bowl of soup to Uraume's room that you ran into her. Uraume had fallen ill, and you personally took it upon yourself to look after them in exchange for all the things they'd done for you in the past. She was with her servant, and the smirk on her face when she saw you meant trouble.

"Oh? What is this: the pure and chaste Chrysanthemum carrying a tray of food? Don't tell me you've been demoted to maidservant that quickly," she sneered, blocking your path.

"I'm no maidservant, you barbaric whore; I'm merely delivering some food to Uraume. They've fallen ill recently, and I wanted to show my gratitude by bringing this soup to them," you replied, turning your nose to her. "A brainless wonder like you wouldn't know the meaning of gratitude, anyway."

"How dare you speak so nastily towards me! I should have your head on a platter," she sneered, pointing a finger at you. Her servant also sneered in similar fashion, but the glare you gave her was enough to put her in her place. "My, if I didn't know any better, I'd assumed you were some sort of harlot meant to entertain one of the generals just by the way you speak."

"It's because I can't stand you, you village slut. Everyone knows that the only reason you're here is because you had oral sex with the Emperor, and everyone also knows that you did so by slipping sleeping medication into his tea."

She didn't know how to talk back to that, so she merely scrunched her nose in anger and seethed where she stood.

"Now, if you don't mind me, this soup's getting cold, and Uraume doesn't like their food cold."

Just as you were about to walk away from her, you felt a harsh push from behind, sending you toppling onto the ground, the soup flying out of the bowl and getting all over your kimono.

"Awww, oopsie! You must've slipped and fallen, how terrible!" the Orchid said with a sneer.

The look on your face was nothing short of diabolical and full of vitriol. How dare you be pushed around by sad sacks of meat, whores that got by using their bodies as forms of payment. Come to think of it... maybe this could be some sort of present for Sukuna, like a favor. Sure, she was pretty, but there were plenty of pretty girls who were only good for having sex; you were willing to bet that you could go into a pleasure district and find girls prettier than her. All she was known for was fucking the emperor, and if anyone could find their way into his estate, then it would've been easy for them to take advantage of him as well. It's not like she'd last in this damned estate anyway--the Emperor certainly wasn't Sukuna in any likeness.

Sad sacks of meat didn't have brains, nor did they have talent. They were just fresh meat that would turn rotten and wither away while the bugs and the maggots infested it.

"Maybe I should speed up the execution process," you muttered, grabbing the metal tray with enough force to turn your knuckles white. Just as the girl turned around to face you, you lunged at her with the bowl of soup in your hand, hitting her square in the jaw with the harsh porcelain. She was stunned for a second, allowing you to grab a nearby katana from the wall and unsheathe it. You then reached for the girl and grabbed her by the hair & threw her to the ground, your vision going red as you raised the blade above your head.

"All that meat's good for is cutting, isn't it?" You asked before sinking the blade into her chest. Her eyes widened, the blade falling right into the valley of her bosom. You raised it again & again, stabbing her with the katana as if you were a samurai on the battlefield. Again & again & again, you slashed the living shit out of that bitch, her face fading from your vision as you destroyed her body. By the time you were done with her, her jugular had been torn out & her breasts were hanging on by a thread. You could see the broken ribs protruding from how intensely you splintered them with the cold silver.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the girl's servant who was standing there frozen in fear from the whole ordeal. When your serpentine gaze landed on her, she broke into a run, trying to go get help, so you grabbed the katana and drove it back into her skull. You didn't know what possessed you, but you lifted her up by the head, ramming her face into the walls repeatedly until her skull was fractured and her face was demolished beyond all recognition. You then grabbed the katana again and sunk it bck into her spine, paralyzing her, and she coughed up blood the entire time you stabbed her.

"Sacks of meat... like you... don't deserve to be in Lord Sukuna's presence!!" you shouted, stabbing her until her spinal cord severed. Once you were sure that the two were dead, you stepped back, looking at the dead bodies of the two girls. The servant was slaughtered beyond all recognition, the only giveaway being the color of her kimono, and the tarnished appearance of the Orchid was like a scene painted straight from the battlefield. You made a huge mess in the middle of the hallway, but the murderous side of you didn't give a shit.

You wouldn't let anyone, much less worthless meat be around your Sukuna for as long as you stayed in this estate.

But just as quickly as you'd killed the two girls, you heard a chuckle from behind you. You whipped your head around, seeing none other than Sukuna himself standing there with his arms crossed over his bulky chest. He studied the scene for a few seconds, taking in the red stains on your pink kimono, and he found the color rather fitting of you.

Even though he was a man of carnage, you couldn't help but feel the tiniest hint of fear coursing through your veins. You knew the consequences of acting out of line, and a beheading was probably the best course of action. You had just destroyed his property, and the ramifications of this act of hatred and malice would be devastating to you. You might as well have sunk the katana into your chest and bled out onto the floor right about now.

Getting onto your knees and bowing before his feet, you pleaded with him to show mercy. "Forgive me, master, for I have made a huge mess. Allow me to... allow me to fix it. I humbly beg of you."

Sukuna stood there silently for a few seconds, his red eyes studying your bowing form still.

"Why would you fix it when you have servants at your disposal?"

Now this question made your head perk up in shock and confusion. Was he seriously not about to kill you? Why wasn't he yelling, why wasn't he dragging you out by the hair to end your life himself?

"Master, I... I don't understand. I laid a hand on your property, and that's unacceptable-"

"Would you be quiet already?" he asked, making you bow your head again in fear. "I must say, (Y/N), I didn't know you had such an act within that pretty head of yours," he remarked, still looking at the dead bodies. "Perhaps you're not so innocent after all. Rise, (Y/N)."

You did as you were told, raising your head to see him. He crouched down to your level, one of his big hands caressing your blood soaked face and your hair as well.

"Just look at you, a little pink Chrysanthemum stained red by the blood of her foes. Quite a fearsome look, (Y/N)," he hummed, still looking at you. Suddenly, a wide grin spread on his face, one that could only spell both trouble and excitement for you.

He had broken you at long last. After so many months of waiting for you to show your true side, to show that you could stand alongside Sukuna, you had finally shown your true potential. Your innocent, pitiful self had been cracked, and in its place stood a dark, evil thing that he couldn't get enough of.

Maybe now he could finally make you his bride, his queen of the dead & the future matriarch of the Sukuna clan.

"How would you like to be my Spider Lily? It's been a while since I've had one."

I suck at writing Sukuna omfg (I hate his ass regardless) also it's not proofread 🤞 I MIGHTTT do a Choso special but IDK how to write him either

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Bookmark my Heart

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Description: You're not the audiobook type. You much prefer reading over listening to books. It would just be your luck that an audiobook got you into this predicament. His eyes are piercing as you fumble with your phone to mute the volume, his voice blaring from the device.

Warnings: None! (Though I do believe Flirty!Rooster is a warning I should call out.)

Themes: Meet-Cute, Flirting, Coffee, Books, Smut Books

Word Count: 3456

A/N: So, if you all aren't aware, today is the lovely @roosterforme's birthday! I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate Em and all of the amazing things she does more than to write some Rooster for her. Happy Birthday! I hope your day is as wonderful as you are! So without further ado, I'm pleased to present you all with Bookmark my Heart, a fic where Bradley Bradshaw is an audiobook narrator and the reader, nicknamed Paper, runs right into him! All my thanks to @horseshoegirl and @desert-fern for beta-reading this fic and catching all of the places where I've missed commas as well as updating my phrasing!

My Masterlist

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

You’re not the audiobook type. Something about having someone read the pages, providing inflections and changes of tone to the otherwise inflectionless words tends to kill your imagination. So you much prefer reading over listening to the books you’re in the mood to peruse. It would just be your luck that an audiobook got you into this predicament. His eyes are piercing as you fumble with your phone to mute the volume, his voice blaring from the device. But maybe you should back up a little bit.

It all started, like it usually did for you, with a book. Unlike normally though, you aren’t talking about Keats, Byron, Shelley, or Austen. This time, the book that was your downfall was something you’d usually classify as chick-lit. Not that chick-lit is a bad thing. There are quite a few romance novels which are beautifully written and that you enjoy reading and re-reading. It’s just not normal that a romance novel, something smutty and provocative, would end up being talked about on podcasts and the news. That’s not considering how all of your female colleagues seem to be talking about the very same book. But that’s the other interesting thing. They’re not even discussing the book’s contents. More like they’re discussing the narrator’s voice in the audiobook edition - how deep and smooth and raspy it is.

It hadn’t even been a full day before the curiosity got the better of you and you purchased the book from Kindle Unlimited. It took you the better part of two weeks before you actually screwed up the courage to listen to it though. Maybe you shouldn’t have picked a Saturday morning when you were running errands to listen to the book. In your defense, there was no better time to listen to the book other than a day when you’d be spending quite a long time in the car with nothing else to do. You’d definitely miscalculated. Dear lord, this man’s voice?! It’s deep and raspy, something smooth and dark in how he voices the syllables. It’s the kind of voice you’ve once heard referred to as panty-wetting - an epithet you’ve never understood until now.

The book has you squirming as you walk through the grocery store. There’s sweat dripping down your spine as he talks about something involving fighter jets and the men (and women - you always feel like you have to correct) who fly them. You’d never have thought that flaps and ailerons could ever be that alluring. You have to take a minute as you leave the grocery store, sitting in your car in silence practically heaving just at the way the word “Doll” had dripped off of his lips. Maybe you can buy into the hype a little bit. It’s not often that you find a romance book in the male perspective after all. As far as finding the pilots sexy goes, though, what can you say? You’ve seen Top Gun - both movies - those boys in their dress whites are awfully sexy.

You send a little prayer of thanks to Rooster Bradshaw, whoever he is, for narrating this book. Just his voice has already made your boring Saturday running errands a thousand times better. You don't even mind that you're melting in the San Diego heat without the air conditioning on as you collect yourself. At least there is only one thing you have left to do today. As a reward for finishing up your errands, including odious activities like going to the bank and post office and grocery shopping, you'd vowed to treat yourself with a romp through your favorite bookstore.

Like you mentioned earlier, it all started with a book. What can you say? You're nothing if not predictable. The Breezy Bean is your favorite coffee shop and bookstore. It's a small shop nestled right in the midst of cobblestone streets and overshadowed by apartment buildings on either side. It's always a zoo trying to get parking, but you can't regret the competition for parking when the books are as good as they are and the coffee is even better.

Lara's not at the counter, but her business partner and best friend, Emily is, and you wave at her absentmindedly as you tangle the cord of your headphones around your index finger. The entire shop smells like coffee beans, paper and ink. You could spend forever here, and you're sure you have, at the very least, spent the entire day in the shop before. The shelves tower over your head, creaking under the weight of everything they hold. You're not a woman on a mission today, content to just meander until a cover catches your fancy. The eyes eat first, after all, isn't that what they say? If only you knew how true that statement would be.

The whole time you're listening to the book, tasting the words on your tongue seconds after Rooster says them, teasing the syllables out like you're trying to snatch them from his lips. Is it any wonder that after about four hours of listening to his voice, you're starting to imagine what the main character of the book looks like based on how Rooster sounds? You're only human, after all. It's quiet and dim in the back of the store, the shelves lit only by the small lights shining from the wall sconces. This is your favorite section of the store. There's a squashy green armchair here with a small table, and this is where you usually sit and wile away the hours.

It's rare that anyone ever ventures into this corner of the store. So it's a surprise when you see a man standing right in front of your favorite chair. He's tall and ridiculously handsome, wearing an eye-wateringly bright Hawaiian shirt and slim-fitting jeans. Like everyone in California, he's got Ray-Bans flung into the neckline of his tank top. The truly unique part of his look is the mustache he's carefully cultivated on his upper lip. He’s holding a book in long-fingered hands, lips pursed as he scans the pages, leaning gently against one of the shelves.

You try your best to squeeze past him in the narrow aisle, wondering if Em and Lara have squeezed more shelves back here or if you've just gained weight when it happens — your headphone cord snags on the buttons on his open shirt. You try to untangle it, unsuccessfully, but then your phone falls out of your pocket and rips your headphones right out of the jack.

You were just getting to a good part, something filled with innuendo but not quite at the sex. That's your only silver lining. Because when your phone nosedives to the, thankfully, carpeted floor sans your headphones, the audio keeps playing way too loudly for the hushed environment. To add insult to injury, your phone is closer to him than it is to you, and well, you've embarrassed yourself enough. The last thing you need is to get eye-level with a stranger's dick while your phone is narrating smut in a bookstore.

“Good book?” There's a smile on his face, and you nod timidly as he hands you back your phone. You pause the app and turn the volume all the way down before his words, or well, you should say, the sound of his voice sinks in.

If you weren’t mortified before, you're even more so now. Obviously, your brain does not compute, so your brain-to-mouth filter isn't working as you blurt out, “You're Rooster Bradshaw.”

It doesn’t surprise you at all when he starts laughing - a full body, belly laugh which fills the stacks with the mellifluous sound. If you had any doubts before that you'd run into the Rooster Bradshaw at your favorite coffee shop before (which you didn’t - see your intimate knowledge of his voice from earlier), you wouldn’t have any now. His character had actually laughed not fifteen minutes ago in the book. Well, now what are you supposed to do? You feel hot, embarrassment crawling its way up your throat as you shift your weight back and forth. Rooster's smiling at you as he stands back, lounging against the shelf like he's waiting for you to get your shit together. You'd hate to break it to him, but you don't think that's possible.

“I'm sorry.” You try your best to hide your face because he does not need to see what your facial expressions are doing.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” You shrug a shoulder as you busy yourself by turning around and trying to force yourself to read the titles. “It's not every day I run into pretty girls in my favorite bookstore, listening to me narrate a book about US Naval Aviators.”

Flirting shouldn’t be the thing which puts you at ease in this situation. There really must be something wrong with you. You’ve never done anything like this before. What happened to the girl who would have run away the minute the phone fell? She might not be facing down the sexiest man she’s ever seen, but at least that version of her isn’t at risk of heart palpitations.

“I hate to break it to you, Rooster, but a lot of pretty women are listening to you right now. This book has made its way onto podcasts and PBS. The author herself has been interviewed gushing about your professionalism and how you say the word “aileron.” Despite your mortification, you find yourself mirroring his relaxed position against the shelves. “Though I do have to correct a part of your statement there. What about yoga pants, glasses, and a messy bun makes me pretty? Because I’d call myself a mess.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re a mess, pretty girl.” Rooster grins as he tugs the shoulder of your cami up from where it is sliding down your arm. “Don’t you know exactly how devastating you look in those yoga pants?”

You’re left dumbstruck, reeling as he leans even closer to you. All of a sudden, you’re inundated with the scent of his cologne as he crowds into your space, and you’re forced to tip your head up to keep eye contact. Of course, the motion makes your glasses tip on your face, and you can’t lift a hand up to resettle them on your face without brushing up against every inch of the man, nearly squishing you into the shelf. There’s a scant few centimeters between you as you try to string words together.

“What makes you think I don’t know how good these pants make my ass look?” You smirk just a little, screwing up all of your courage to peer up at him. “But really, this outfit is comfortable.”

“Comfortable is not how you’re making me feel, honey.” There’s a heat in his gaze as his voice rasps out the words. “But maybe we can both get a little more comfortable and have a cup of coffee together?”

Only two people will ever know if your hand strays right over the seam at the front of his jeans as you walk away. “I’d love to, but maybe you need to take a few minutes in seclusion, Mr. Chicken.”

You feel giddy as you walk away because things like this don’t just happen to girls like you. You don’t flirt with men you've just met. And you definitely do not brush over the dicks of men you've just met! The counter is nearly empty as you walk up, and you know Em has clocked onto the fact that your hands are surprisingly empty of books.

“Hiya, Paper!” You roll your eyes only a little. Buy a stack of paperbacks once a week from a bookstore for months, and this is exactly what you’ll be nicknamed. “No books today?”

“Hey, Em. Can I get a latte, please? And whatever the gentleman in the Hawaiian shirt orders is on me.” You grin at the sight of her eyebrows ticking up until they’re nearly in her hair.

“What has our sweet little Paper been doing today, huh?” You shrug just a little, grinning as she hands you your drink. “I’ve been reading, Em!”

“Of course you have!” You’re laughing as you make your way to a table for two in the corner.

You’re smiling outright when Rooster swaggers out of the shelves a few minutes later, and Em clocks the Hawaiian shirt on his broad frame. She’s half drooling when he orders an Americano. As she turns to make his drink, you get the messages in short order.

What the fuck, Paper!

This is the man you’re buying a coffee for?

Damn, girl! I’m going to need all of the details. STAT!

You put the device away only when the chair opposite yours slides out, and Rooster settles in. You'd promised a full detailing of the encounter to Em, and you wouldn't be surprised if Lara interrogates you the next time you see her as well.

“So, obviously, you come here often, then.” He’s smirking as he sips on his coffee.

“Yup!” You’re just as chipper as you blow over the surface of your own mug.

“You come here often enough that one of the owners just threatened me with the loss of my…” He pauses like he’s not sure if he should laugh or cry as he says the words, “...crown jewels…” and grimaces before continuing, “...if I hurt you.”

“She also called you Paper. Why’s that, Honey?”

You lean forward, feeling just a little more confident as he mirrors your position. “Tit for tat, Bradshaw, if that even is your last name. You tell me something about yourself, I tell you something about myself.”

“Deal?” You stretch your hand out and gasp when he takes it and sets it down to the side of the mugs.

“Deal.”

“I’ll start.” Your faces are inches apart from each other. He's whispering, and you have to lean forward even further so you don't miss a single word. “My name’s Bradley Bradshaw. I didn’t want to use my real name while narrating those books.”

“And Rooster was what you decided on?” His chuckle and yours rise into the air in perfect harmony.

“It was a nickname I got in college. I was always the only guy in the dorm up before 9 A.M.”

You take turns sharing your life stories and quite a few secrets until your coffees are long gone. You find yourself telling him all about how you got your nickname and how you’ve been feeling stuck for the longest time. With Bradley, it doesn’t feel like another boring first date. If it weren’t for the faint hiss of the espresso machine and the clank of mugs and cutlery you wouldn't think there was another person in the room but the two of you. There are butterflies in your stomach, and your entire body shudders when he hooks his ankle around yours and tugs you closer. That point of contact has your blood turning into molten lava in your veins as his hand trails gentle patterns across your upturned palm.

“Hey, Paper?” It takes an inhuman effort to drag your eyes away from the magic Bradley Bradshaw is committing just with your hands in his own.

“Hey, Em.” As you say her name, you realize how dark it is. “The store’s closing, isn’t it?”

“Yup. It actually closed an hour ago. You looked so cute together that I called Lara, and we made an executive decision to let the two of you keep talking for just a bit longer.”

Your face feels extra hot because Em’s looking at you like she’s liable to start laughing at any moment. You don’t want to know what your hair looks like now, not after hours of running your fingers through it. It’s probably even more of a mess than it was when you literally ran into Bradley hours ago. A great first impression, right?

“Let me settle up then, Em.” If your voice is hushed and a little more subdued, it’s because reality and panic are settling in.

“No, sweetheart.” Bradley’s voice is even firmer as he stands up and places a hand on your arm. “Today is on me, I insist.”

You know exactly when Em puts it together, because her eyes widen to a comical degree. She was the biggest reason why you bought the book in the first place. “You’re Rooster Bradshaw!”

For the second time today, you find yourself laughing along with Bradley, though the sounds of his laughter doesn’t put you at ease in quite the same way as it did earlier. Em’s laughing too, and she looks gorgeous in the golden light. At least she’s put together in a way you’re so obviously not. Maybe you should have taken your mother’s well-meant advice when you were younger - dress to impress, for you never know who you’re going to meet. But you haven’t taken that advice, choosing to dress simply and comfortably. It works when you can’t wear any makeup when you work in a laboratory and when all of your nice clothes would be at risk of chemical spills at worst and covered by a lab coat at best. So you walk through life in a swirl of well-worn jeans, tee-shirts, yoga pants, tank tops, camisoles, sneakers and sandals. There are a few dressier items in your closet, but they’re so far in the back that you haven’t worn them in probably a year and a half. Em’s cute outfit and wavy, non-greasy hair probably feel like a breath of fresh air to him. The same goes for the timber of her voice and how she sounds so elegant.

If you didn't know any better (because you know Em, you do), you'd think that the words the two of them are sharing by the counter now are flirtier than settling up a bill. It doesn’t help the green, envious monster sitting on your shoulder, though. Nor does it help when you run to the restroom and take a look at yourself in the mirror. You look worse than you thought you did. Your face is wan and pale, the bags under your eyes have bags, and your hair is so greasy that it lays limp when you release it from your bun. Your lips are chapped, and fuck, how did you manage to drip coffee onto yourself?! You only drank one cup! What's left to show you that you've made a huge fool of yourself?

Your hands shake as you splash water on your face and put your hair back in its sad bun again. Just a little longer and you'll be home, wallowing in peace at yet another failed potential relationship. At least the water has brought a blush to your cheeks and cleaned the worst of the smudges off your glasses. Bradley probably has Em's phone number by now, right? It's probably best not to get your hopes up too high, else you find yourself falling from a prodigious height.

Instead, you're pleasantly surprised to see him still in the shop.

“Hey!” His face lights up when he sees you, and you're sure your earlier pep-talk about managing your expectations hasn’t worked at all. This is going to hurt. “So, I know talking to a stranger for hours at a coffee shop probably isn't the best first date. So would you maybe want to go on a real one sometime soon?”

“Y-you're serious?” He smiles and hands you his phone, unlocked.

“Put your number in there, Paper.” Your mind's not working at all as you type the ten digits in.

“Why me?”

His smile is warm and fond as he takes the phone back, types something and hits send. Your notification tone goes off soon after.

“It's not every day I run into a pretty girl listening to me reading a romance novel who doesn't fawn all over me once they realize who I am. It's been nice talking to you. I feel like you're the first person in a long time to see Bradley, not Rooster.”

He holds the door open for you, a hand finding its way to the small of your back as he walks you out to your car. He even opens the door for you, a chivalrous action which has your heart flip-flopping in your chest. “Baby doll?”

“Yeah?” He takes advantage of the height difference between you to tip your face up as he feathers a kiss across the apple of your cheek.

“It helps that your ass looks damn good in those yoga pants!”

You're laughing despite yourself as you drive away. Maybe audiobooks aren't as bad as you think? Or, well, at least their narrators aren't.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @footprintsinthesxnd @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32 @thedroneranger @chaoticassidy @shanimallina87 @kmc1989

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bookmark my heart

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foli-vora · 2 years ago

Note

First of all

(I am sure I started following for the Dave/Marcus series)

With Javier Peña can I get F reader and

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.” and “You’re so fucking cute.”

A medium amount of filth if possible

Ah my love! Thank you so much! You're such an amazing light in this fandom, and we love and appreciate you so much! Thank you for sending in a request! I don't know what happened but it got a bit out of hand and super soft and a bit angsty lmao, but I hope you still enjoy and the medium amount of filth still hits right! ❤️

before my eyes

javier pena x f!reader

word count: 3k warnings: idk i feel like this is a mess but i'm going with it, neighbour!javi, swearing, smoking, SOFTNESS, smidgen of angst, mention of injury/gunshot wounds/surgery, SMUT 18+ ONLY: oral sex (f), unprotected p in v

“Shit,” you curse, watching the box in your hands give way to the contents within.

The bottom gives out, your belongings spilling down the stairway, and you heave a sigh of impatience. Sweat slicks your skin, causing the flow of your dress to cling to you as you bend to try and find some semblance of organisation to the unexpected chaos thrust upon you.

“Let me help,” a voice says from the top of the stairs, and you turn to watch the newcomer jog softly down the steps and duck to gather some of your things.

“Thanks,” you murmur, heat washing under your cheeks, “this is just what I need.”

Of course the attractive man living in your building has to catch you in a moment of mayhem. Javier, as he had previously introduced himself the day before, gives you a small smile, the yellow tinted sunglasses covering his eyes sliding down the curved bridge of his nose.

“Not having the best day?”

“It could be better,” you reply dryly.

The plumbing in your apartment is weak at best, with a few leaks springing from the pipes beneath the sink in your kitchen and bathroom. Not to mention the shot to shit AC unit, leaving the humid Colombian air to fill every inch of every room.

“I could come and take a look,” Javier says, making a neat pile of books before sweeping them up into his arms and following you the rest of the way to your door. “I’m no plumber, but I could fiddle around with the pipes at least. I know a guy who could come out for the AC.”

“You don’t seem like the type of guy to have a tool set laying around,” you tease lightly, shifting the barely fixed box onto your hip to push open your door.

Javier grins, “You’re right—I don’t, but I have been taught a thing or two. I’m sure the Hillbilly’ll have something I could use. I can come tonight, if you want?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble—”

“You’re not—I offered.”

It may not have been any trouble for him to come over, but he certainly was trouble himself, you had quickly come to learn. The feelings he invokes in you is something you hadn’t quite felt before. He makes his desire obvious, unashamed with his light flirtations that never fail to bring butterflies flying right up your throat.

As a thank you for fixing your leaky pipes, you cook. Your first proper meal in your new apartment, and in wonderful company, too. Who'd have thought your new move would bring you here?

Dinner is filled with easy conversation, and he expertly dodges any and all questions relating to his work. You know that he works with Steve, your new neighbour Connie’s husband, and you know by her that Steve works for the DEA.

You don’t mention work again for the night. He stays longer than you had originally expected, content to share a glass of bourbon on your couch and listen to the soft music falling from your record player.

The evening ends with no more than a kiss to your cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your lips, and your heart thunders in your chest when he remains close enough to feel his breath wash over your lips.

For a second, you find yourself wanting, hoping that he’d close those last few centimetres and grace you with the feeling of his lips over yours…

… but no.

Instead, he turns, leaving with a dangerously charming, almost teasing, smile and a quiet goodnight.

Trouble, indeed.

Weeks pass before you see him again for more than a few seconds alone or without the company of Steve and Connie, striding into the building late at night and running an anxious hand through his hair. A tough day, you assume. He would have plenty with his line of work.

You make your presence known and smile softly at him, still clad in your party dress from a night out with new friends.

“Not having the best day?” You ask gently, leaning against the railing of the stairs as the effects of the alcohol in your system bring a hazy swirl to the edges of your vision.

He stops, playing with his keys between his fingers before giving a shrug, “It could be better.”

Your stomach tightens and flips with his low rasp. The attraction is undeniable, and you’d been questioned viciously by Connie in regards to the looks you and Javier would share, or the energy that would fill the room whenever you two were close. You’d had no answers at the time, putting it down to merely a simple crush that would pass soon.

Something in your mind said differently though, that this felt like more, deeper than a silly little crush that would fade away after a few months. You hope he shares the same sentiment, but with the choices and certain circumstances he would put himself in for his job and gathering intel, you started to doubt more and more that that would happen.

“Want me to help with that?”

It’s the remnants of various fruity cocktails bringing forth a small wave of flirty confidence. Usually you would never be so upfront, but you don’t find yourself regretting the words as soon as they pierce the air. You want it, with every inch of you.

He thinks it over for a long moment, his eyes dragging over your body with an obvious shine of desire and admiring your flattering choice of attire, but instead a slight curl pulls at the corners of his lips and your heart thuds harder and faster in your chest.

“Maybe another night, when you can actually remember me in the morning,” he teases deeply, smiling wider when you give a breathy chuckle. “You need help getting in?”

“No, I’ve got it. Goodnight, Javier.”

“Goodnight, corazón.”

That's new.

You struggle to get rid of the smile curling your lips, even long after you wave him goodbye and tuck yourself into bed. His voice lingers, images flash behind your lids as you try to sleep.

He drives you crazy.

He fills your thoughts every moment of the day—his face, his eyes, his smile. His voice would linger in your ears, the low rasp of it keeping your nerves electrified.

You look for him in the entryway coming home, you listen out for his comings and goings through your thin front door. Sometimes you even catch yourself having a little peek through your peephole when you hear him and Steve, watching as he runs a hand through his hair and ever so slightly looks towards your door before vanishing.

It’s one night you both happen to arrive home at the same time, the humidity of Colombia sticking to your skin but relieved with the breeze that blows through the streets. He lingers, seemingly happy to chat while you fiddle with the straps of your handbag.

“You want a drink?”

The question is a welcome surprise, and you merely nod in answer, unable to quite force the words out your mouth.

His apartment is… Javier. It’s minimal, no signs of being truly lived in with photographs and knick knacks like the ones that fill your walls and tables, but the air filling it is comfortable and cosy, the music that falls from his record player familiar and calming.

Conversation flows easily.

He’s tired, the bags hanging softly beneath his eyes showing that work has been extra hard on him the last few weeks. You love that he looks relaxed with you, sinking into his couch with his head leaning comfortably on the back as it rolls to face you.

He smiles at your ramblings, laughs quietly at your stories, the crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes hitting somewhere deep in your chest.

You don’t even realise you fall asleep until later in the night.

You wake only a few hours later, hazy and slightly confused by your surroundings, but instantly soften at the heavy breaths that fall into your ears. He’s asleep next to you, still cradling the half nursed glass of whiskey in his hands. His head rests just beside yours, his lips barely parted and breath washing past your face as you watch him for a long minute.

He needs rest. Carefully, you extract yourself from the couch and gently place your own glass on the coffee table before draping him in the coloured crochet blanket hanging just beside him and pressing a tender kiss of goodnight to his forehead.

It wakes him, his eyes half open when you pull away to leave and the sheer force of his gaze keeps you from moving away any further. He watches you quietly, his dark sleep filled eyes roaming your face before he leans up and catches your lips with his own and steals the breath from your lungs.

He moves slowly, hands roaming your legs and hips before cupping your ass and pulling you down until your knees sink into the cushions beside his hips. You settle in his lap easily, muscles loosening with each curl of his tongue along yours until you’re practically melting at his touch.

Everything feels right.

Every moment, every kiss, every touch… God, he knows what he’s doing. He devotes his energy to you, uncaring about meeting his own end and instead selfish with the time he spends on your body. He studies it all—what makes your breath hitch, what makes your legs shake, what makes your fingers tighten and tug at his hair.

You savour every sharp exhale and groan that falls from his lips. It's not long until you're spread out on his couch, watching with wide eyes as he tugs at your underwear and throws the soaked cotton over his shoulder with a lazy smirk that radiates trouble.

He loses himself between your thighs, dress haphazardly shoved up and out of the way so he’s free to devour you as he wishes, his tongue rolling and circling over your clit and diving into the weeping entrance of your cunt until you’re breathless and incoherent.

He brings you up and over the edge again and again, until you physically think you can’t possibly give him any more, only to have him force yet another out of your system with his low rumble sinking into your ears.

So good for me, look at you. Let me feel you, so fucking good. Give it to me, come on now, corazón—

You’re bent over the arm of the couch when he finally gets sick of the dress still clinging to your frame, fingers unforgiving as they wrench the dress up and off your body, freeing your skin to his hungry touch.

They roam at their leisure, cupping the soft swell of your tits and pinching your hardened nipples until you squirm against the solid feel of him pressed up against your ass.

He ruts into you without abandon, cock hitting just that bit too far and blessing you with the sharp twinge of pain alongside the blissful feel of him dragging against your walls and you're seeing stars, clinging to the cushions as a means to keep your head straight and not lose yourself to the overwhelming ecstasy threatening to have you passing out.

He cums with his lips on your neck, mouth hot and heavy against your sweat slicked skin as he pants into the curve on your shoulder, before pressing one simple final kiss there. He lingers, pressed tightly against you and crowding you into the firm arm of the couch as he softens within you, his cum trailing a slow, hot path down the inside of your thigh.

You curl into the reassuring hand to rub along your back as you sink shakily back to sit down. You smile shyly when he reappears with a warm cloth, lazily sliding it across your skin and softly cupping it against your tender cunt to calm the ache there.

It’s intimate, the sheer closeness of the action bringing your heart to beat at the base of your throat.

Surprisingly, he asks you to stay, and your heart doesn’t calm until exhaustion claims you after your head meets his pillow, the familiar scent of his cologne and the faint traces of cigarettes clinging to the soft cotton.

It’s a slow development.

The next time, he comes to you, knocking on your door in the middle of the night and you let him in without a word. You cuddle into the leftover warmth on your bed long after he leaves for his own apartment to head to work, the ghost of his lips moving over your body following you for the rest of the day.

The time after, it’s his place again, but this time, he cooks. It’s the first time it feels like something more than sex, but it goes unaddressed.

You talk and talk, you learn about his father, his life before Colombia. You admit to finding your life lacking, forever wishing for something more than the mundane ‘find a husband and settle down’ expectations struck upon you.

There’s something there, lingering behind the way you take each other apart.

It follows his touch, oozes from the kisses you pepper each other with. It feels nice, it feels so right. You feel comfortable in his bed, completely nude and not at all bothering to hide any part of you. It feels normal, natural even, when he lays beside you and throws out random topics of conversation with his lips around a cigarette, occasionally offering it to you and chuckling warmly when you’d attempt to inhale the harsh tobacco. You’re both unperturbed by the silence that would sometimes follow.

And that feeling never disappears, it only grows as the weeks go on.

You know you have strong feelings for him one morning when you feel him press a tender kiss of goodbye to your forehead while you’re still half asleep. It has your heart quickening, something soft and sweet and warm curling around your chest. You bathe in the glow of it.

But it would be addressed later—you’d hate to potentially ruin whatever you have building with him by speaking on your feelings too quickly.

And then, one fateful day, it happens. It all comes crashing down around you and for the first time, you worry you'll never be able to speak the words to him.

The steady beep of the machine is somewhat comforting in the chill of the room. You barely notice it, too consumed with watching the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the light blanket covering his body. Steady, they had said, after the surgery they had rushed him into.

It hadn’t been expected, the phone call during the morning of another seemingly normal work day. Steve had sounded nervous, a first for your neighbour. He hadn’t been able to give you all the details, all you knew was that it was bad.

Shot. A bullet in his side and one in his chest.

You had flown to the hospital, rushed in with his name falling in rushed pleas and they had shown you to the waiting room to await a doctor for more information. Steve was there, Connie, too. She had doted on you, guided you to a close seat and ordered her husband to get you a drink, a snack, anything.

Hours went by, and soon a man appeared, kindly reassuring you he had made it through with minimal issues, and was now in recovery. You were beside him within an hour.

He was warm to the touch, his pulse thrumming softly under your fingers as you had gently cradled his hand. He had remained motionless at the tender kiss you had pressed to his forehead, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he remained in the bliss of a hopefully painless sleep.

And you hadn’t moved since. Steve had left after some gentle pressing from Connie, and you had reassured him you’d call the moment he awoke. He had gripped Javi’s fingers softly, giving him one final look of worry, before turning and leaving under the arm of his wife.

Nurses come and go, checking his IV and doing their routine of observations, never worrying about their findings and erasing any of your lingering fear with a warm smile. They bring you coffee as the day bleeds into night, keeping you fed with cold hospital sandwiches and the occasional packet of sweet biscuits.

You just want him to wake.

It’s normal, they say. Just give him time.

“Javi,” you murmur softly, leaning forward to brush his hair back for the thousandth time, “I know you need some time to get your strength back, and that’s fine, but just so you know—if you don’t wake up, and you die? I will kill you.”

As you expected, he stays silent, but you still smile, lingering to brush your fingers down his cheek softly before settling back in your seat. Your hands wrap around the arm resting in front of you, and you rest to press your cheek on his warm skin, content to watch him sleeping and losing yourself to dreams sometime into the night, too.

It’s a slight pressure on your temple that gently pries you out of dreamy darkness. It moves, sliding along your skin softly before disappearing and returning to where you’d first felt it. Fingers, you realise hazily, recognising the feel of someone stroking your face.

Your eyes flutter open, immediately to be met with a pair of tired dark eyes seemingly content in watching you. Javi.

Startled, you sit up and reach to call for the nurse, only to stop at the raspy voice that tells you to calm down.

“They already know,” Javi says quietly, throat dry and raw. “They just didn’t want to wake you.”

You turn for the jug of water and pour some into the little plastic cup, carefully plucking the straw from the table and holding it at his lips. He drinks slowly, humming from the relief of the cool liquid filling his mouth.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” he replies dryly, lips twitching at the corners.

“Idiot,” you snark around a grin, returning the cup to the table and linking your fingers through his. “No, really, how are you?”

He sighs, head rolling on the pillow so he can look at you better, “I’m doing okay, corazón.”

You nod, tongue running along your lips as you take reassurance from his words. He’s okay.

You tighten your fingers through his and take a small breath to calm the anxiety in your system, unaware you’re crying until you hear him breathe your name. You mumble an apology, almost embarrassed by the stream of tears, but it’s soon muffled by his hospital gown as he gently pulls you to him.

Carefully, you rest your head on one side of his chest, mindful of the thick bandaging on the other and warm at the arms that come to rest over your back.

Admitting feelings can wait. For now, you’re content to just rest in his arms, listening to the steady beat of his heart under your ear.

“You know,” Javi murmurs against the top of your head, “you’re really fucking cute when you snore.”

“I do not snore!”

Yeah this was a mess but I'm into it nonetheless lmao.

I haven't updated my taglists yet soz x

taglist 1: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld

#foli's 3k #javier pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x you #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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helaelaemond · 1 year ago

Note

REQUEST TIME Because of your beautiful, beautiful mind, this idea came up after reading your amazing Billy fic (Only worth living if somebody loving you).

How about a Billy who, as you showed, is turned on by taking care of his SO, but turned on so much that he cannot help but cum from this?

I know it'll be great, as the idea mostly came from you and the EYE CONTACT will break me.

thank you for this wonderful prompt, and for trusting me with it! In @myfandomprompts I believe!!!!!!!

Title: This Is My Idea of Fun - part of the It’s All For You series but can be read as standalone

Pairing: Billy Washington x female reader

Summary: You've come back from a week long holiday with your friends, and your boyfriend Billy has missed you. He's missed taking care of you, touching you and tasting you, giving you everything you need. And in giving you everything you need, he finds his own satisfaction.

Cunnilingus, breast worship, nipple orgasm (female), hands-free orgasm (male), mild praise kink, pet names, established relationship, fluffy smut.

Rating: E

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: references to Lana Del Rey (this whole series is based on Video Games - the lyrics and the vibes. JUMPSCARE I GUESS)

Tag list: @sylasthegrim / @myfandomprompts/ @arcielee / @babyblue711 / i forget who else might want Billy tags <3

"Billy!"

He grins as he waits for you at Stansted arrivals with open arms, and you fly to him. "Hey!"

Catching you in his embrace, he peppers your face with kisses, not caring that you're feeling gross from your flight, not caring that you smell of the stale aeroplane air, not caring, not caring, not caring. Behind you, your friends meet their partners, too, although none are as welcomed so lovingly as you (not that it's a competition - but it still feels good).

"I missed you!"

His heart leaps when you say that, and he runs his fingers over your hair. "Hmm. I missed you too. Didn't know what to do with myself all week. God, you look good. Look at your tan!" The Mallorca sun has warmed your skin and left you glowing, and he kisses your forehead. "You wore sun cream, right?"

"Of course!" you laugh, batting away his worries. "Factor fifty, three times a day."

"Hmm. I'm not sure it counts if you're adding tanning oil on top of it."

"Shut up!"

He grins and grabs the handle of your suitcase, and although you protest, he takes the rucksack from your back, too. When you turn towards the train station within the airport, he grabs your hand. "Where you going?"

"Aren't we-?" you gesture to where your friends are meandering to head back to central London.

"Absolutely not. No public transport for my girl."

"For God's sake!" you laugh again. "It's only a half hour train! You didn't have to drive. Couldn't wait to get me alone, huh?"

Billy ducks his head but gives you a glance. "You joke, but..."

You shove him playfully. Leaving him for a moment, you hug your friends goodbye and promise to see them soon, and then you go back to him. Arm in arm, you walk out of the airport. It's only been a week away from him. But you're giddy being back with him.

After some convincing from your side, you'd agreed that you'd text every day, but not go into detail about what you're up to - that way, when you got home, you could tell him everything. At first, it made him nervous, but now that you're animatedly telling him everything as he drives down the M11, he's glad.

It's magic, seeing you like this. It's a beauty to listen to you talk about anything, let alone something that makes you so happy. He listens almost in a trance, and as he sits at a comfortable seventy-five in the outside lane, he rests his hand on your thigh. God, it's good to have you back.

By the time you've returned to the flat you rent together, you've told him all about your week-long holiday. Inside, it's clean and tidy, and on the living room windowsill is a fresh bouquet of lilac and lavender.

"Oh, Billy."

He smiles and kisses your temple. "Welcome home."

"Thank you."

You hug him for a long moment, just happy to be in his arms. But then his kisses move to your neck, and you squirm away. "No, stop. I need a shower. I feel gross."

Billy's nose scrunches as he beams at you. "Alright. Want me to unpack for you in the meantime?"

You think about telling him no, that he doesn't have to worry, but he strokes your cheek, and you're reminded how much he likes to take care of you, in his own way. "Could you?"

He nods.

"Thank you."

You take your time in the shower. You scrub every inch of yourself clean in an attempt to scourge travel from your skin and hair. By the time you've finished, Billy's unpacked your bags and stuck a wash on. It makes you feel all warm inside, the little gestures he performs that show he loves you. That you're his person to look after. You wrap yourself up in a towel and pad into the living room.

"All better?" he asks from where he's sitting on the sofa.

"Yeah. I need a proper brew, though. Want one?"

"Go on, then."

In the little kitchen, you pull out two mugs. They're ones you painted together on a date when you were still teenagers. He painted sprigs of lavender on his. It's what you smelled of on your first date. It's his favourite smell now, and your favourite flower. The memory makes you smile.

Strong arms encircle you as the kettle boils. A sharp chin finds its place on your bare shoulder. You put a tea bag in each mug, and a teaspoon of sugar in yours. Where Billy's mug has your signature lavender painted on it, yours has yours and his initials in a purple love heart.

"Shouldn't I be the one making you a drink?" he asks softly. His voice is low and smooth, every bit a comfort as a cup of tea.

"You've done plenty for me! But you can wash it up later, if it makes you feel better."

He laughs lowly, and kisses your neck. "Mmm. You smell nice now."

"Yeah, I didn't enjoy stinking of eau de Ryanair."

"Mm. Much better now. All clean. Just in time to make you dirty again."

You lean back against him as you cackle in delight. "That's a shit line, Billy! You'll have to try harder than that."

The kettle shakes as it comes to a loud boil, and you pour the hot water, followed by milk. The tea bags can stew for a few minutes.

"You want me to try different lines?"

"Hmm. Depends what lines you've got."

"I don't think I've got any."

You turn to face him and give him a smile. "You must have some. You know the right things to say in certain contexts."

He tilts his head down almost bashfully. "That's different."

"Yeah?"

"It's easy to say the right things when you're already half out your mind."

Heat flushes your cheeks, and you rest your hands on his shoulders to pull him down for a sweet kiss. "That's true. And you always know what to say then, anyway. How do you know what to say?"

Billy gently presses you back against the counter and places his hands on it either side of you. His gaze roams down your neck and to your exposed collarbones and shoulders. "Dunno. You just make me want to say them."

"Well, I'm glad that you do. You know, Sofia told us that Tom doesn't even talk during sex?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sometimes she has to even beg him to go down. He doesn't like doing it that much."

Billy meets your gaze with surprise in his eyes. "Really? Tommy?"

You nod.

"Huh. Maybe I need to get better friends."

That makes you laugh. "You should give him some tips!"

"I dunno. You think I've got anything worth sharing?"

You swallow. Butterflies have burst into your stomach. Just talking about it makes your skin tingle. And it's been a week. A week away from Billy might as well be a year. Yeah, a holiday with friends was really nice, but it had its drawbacks. On the second night you had cried because you missed him. Of course, your friends had laughed and rolled their eyes, and you'd got yourself together quick, but- but Billy.

"Yeah. You're alright at it, I guess."

His smile is so sweet as he leans closer to you. He tilts his head down and cocks it slightly to the side. "Only alright?"

You lick your lips. "Well. It's a better way for you to use your mouth than trying shit chat up lines."

"Wouldn't you prefer it was that way round, though?"

You try - and fail - to bite back your laughter. You're still blushing. "Yeah... when you put it like that."

"I missed it while you were away, you know?"

"'It'?"

He kisses your lips softly, nipping ever so slightly. "Your taste."

The power he holds over you is unreasonable. When he pulls away, your breath is still held. "My...?"

He watches your face for a moment, and then grabs the cups behind you. "C'mon. Let's go sit down."

Where he goes, you so happily follow. Back in the living room, you sit on the sofa next to him and cradle the mug in your hands. You blow on the top of the tea, and take a sip. Mm. Tastes like home.

"So what did you do with yourself while I was away?"

Billy positions himself on the cushions so that he's close to you, facing you, his knee touching yours. "Work. Saw Lana."

"How is she?"

"Settling in, I think. Mum and Dad are happy she's home."

"Bit of a different climate to the Middle East, though." You smile.

He sips his drink, too, as his fingers ghost along your shoulder. "Hmm."

"How's work?"

He doesn't answer. But his expression is soft. His sweet blue eyes follow the line his finger traces on your skin, up the side of your neck, and then down to where the towel is still wrapped under your arms and over your body.

"Billy?"

"Work's fine."

Another sip. And then he leans in and kisses your throat. The tea makes his mouth hot, and it draws a quiet noise from you. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Me too."

As he kisses your throat again, you take another sip. It's sweet, refreshing, soul-warming. The tea is nice, too. You smile softly.

When Billy's fingers carefully tug the towel open, you let it fall with a certain amount of relief. Since you came out of the bathroom in it, you've wanted him to do this. To welcome you home properly. From the moment he gripped your thigh in the car, actually, your heart has been quicker.

"Give me your cup." He takes it from your fingers, half empty, and rests it next to yours on the table. Another intimate gesture, a sign of him taking care of you.

Your body is dry now, clean and smooth and fresh. He runs his hand over your stomach and up your side, and his thumb caresses the swell of your breast. The other hand turns your face by the chin to look at him. He smiles slightly. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I missed you."

It never gets old, hearing that. "I missed you, too."

He kisses your mouth again. You close your eyes, and give into him.

How beautiful it is when you give into him, he thinks. You're clay under his hands, ready to be moulded, shaped, turned into something divine with the help of his touch. How you part your lips when he guides you makes his heart leap. He sighs when your tongues meet lazily. It's a hot and wet pressure that sends bolts of lighting down his spine.

He could kiss you all day and all night and never get bored, never need more. You're so soft and pliant under him. How sacred it is, to be wanted like this. Billy keeps hold of your chin as you share deep kisses, while his other hand spreads fingers wide and caresses your side. After a long moment, he guides you to lie back on the sofa.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes against your cheek.

You laugh breathlessly. "Even with these tan lines?"

Smiling, he traces the line over the top of your breast. Your skin is so supple here. "Yes."

"They look stupid."

"Better than there being no tan lines at all."

"I'd never sunbathe topless."

Just the thought makes his arms tingle. It makes him bite gently against the shell of your ear. His breath is hot against it. "You'd better not. Your body is for my eyes only."

That earns a soft sigh from you. "Says who?"

It's a poor attempt on your part to tease and challenge him, but already it's under his control that you've fallen. "You. Every time you give yourself to me like this, it's a promise that you're mine."

"You don't own me." But your voice is gentle, your smile wide.

"No? Then why have you stopped breathing?"

It's satisfying how you gasp under his touch. He kisses you deeply a final time before his lips find a path down your skin. He follows the curve of your jaw and the slope of your neck, and at your collarbone, he leaves careful bites to the bone. Between your breasts, he presses his nose and breathes hard.

Across your lower back, he splays his fingers and lifts you up slightly. You arch closer to him, and he hums lowly at the grasp on his sandy hair.

"So beautiful." He can't help telling you again and again. "You're so beautiful."

You laugh softly. "Stop being so sweet." But your eyes are closed, he sees as he glances up, and you're preening at his words.

"You want me to be cruel?"

Again, you laugh. "Alright. You can keep being sweet."

"That's my girl."

Billy kisses the underside of your breast, and brings one hand to the other to carefully massage it. He bites the delicate skin here and there, and makes a pattern of kisses around your flesh. As he neglects your nipple, you feel your areolas tighten at the stimulation and anticipation.

"Please," you whisper.

"There's no rush," he soothes.

"But I want you."

He kisses your sternum harder than before. "I know, baby. Just relax. I'll take care of you."

You whimper quietly. He's doing everything right, except this time he's being slow about it. He drags his pretty lips down your stomach and you tense, but then he returns back up to your neck.

"Relax," he whispers.

You try to let the tension go, but it's difficult when anticipation is coursing through you. You open your eyes to see him looking down at you. Against your waist, his thumb runs soothing circles.

"Take deep breaths for me," Billy murmurs. As he leans over you, his short hair falls over his eyes, and it makes you smile. You stroke his face affectionately. You do as you're told.

"That's it. In, and out, nice and slow. Good job, baby. Just like that."

As the tension slowly melts away from your body, Billy is satisfied. Barely holding back his hunger, he returns his attention to your breasts. As you lie comfortably on the sofa, focusing on your breathing, he strokes up and down your sides, fingers ghosting along the swell of your breasts. Circles replace strokes, the tips of all four fingers trailing wide over your flesh.

When his touch glides over your pebbled areolas, you sigh and smile. The expression on your face makes his stomach tense. God, he could come from that alone.

"Does that feel nice?"

The deep breathing you've been practising has you finally relaxed and almost in a haze of desire now, and you nod. Words are out of your grasp, but you give him an encouraging hum. The anticipation no longer feels like a burden - now, it's just a promise.

"It feels nice for me, too." Closer and closer, Billy's fingers get to where you want them. And then, with a careful grasp around the bottom of your breast, he licks over your nipple. The stimulation makes you whimper and arch up. He runs the tip of his tongue around it, watching your face carefully for your reaction. Against your other breast, his fingers mirror the action of his mouth.

Billy blows cool air over where his tongue has been. He smiles when you toss your head to the side in response. After taking a long sip of warm tea, he takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks. The heat and rush of blood is so good.

You try to rub your thighs together to relieve some of the tension, but his knees are between yours and you can't. Instead, as the tension at your chest makes your mind foggy, you clench and unclench, driving your pleasure higher.

He notices. He can read you. "Easy," he whispers. "Breathe." His eyes bear into yours, blue flame, and you nod, obeying him. He smiles. "Good girl."

Another whimper sounds in your throat. He rewards you with his mouth again.

"Oh, God," you sigh. "Yes. Please."

Not a single touch has drifted south of your navel yet, but that doesn't matter. The attention at your breasts is more than enough. Pleasure builds deep within your body at the touches Billy lavishes on you. Soon, your steady breaths are not so steady anymore. Your jaw is slack, your hands fists at your side.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

He pulls off your nipple only to latch onto your other one. His fingers replace his mouth quickly and between his finger and thumb he carefully twists and pulls on you. Teeth catch puckered skin, and the sensation sets your whole body aflame. It drives you higher and higher.

"P-please!"

His free hand is firm around your back and he holds you firmly in his strong arm. You're drunk on his attention, seeing stars, consumed by him, by your Billy. The attention on your nipples is everything you need, and it builds and builds and your vision blacks out, you lose all sense of the world, and, and-!

"Fuck! Fuck, Billy! Yes, yes-!"

"Good girl," he hisses with your nipple between his teeth. His eyes are fixed on your face. "Just like that, baby. You're doing so well-!"

"Oh, shit-!"

As your orgasm erupts within you, you swear and writhe, burning. You twist and turn and arch, pleasure washing over you and making you cry out. It's overwhelming. It rips through every cell until you're shaking and mewling.

Billy's attentions slow, and after a long moment of taking you through your long peak, he presses his forehead over your heart. Hands stroke your sides soothingly, down your hips and thighs, and back up to your arms.

Silence follows. It's only punctuated by your heavy breathing, his quiet noises of encouragement.

"That was so good," he praises softly. "You're so pretty when you come."

You sling an arm over your eyes, but laugh softly at the praise. With your orgasm, some tension has been relieved from your body, but the haze in your mind remains. "Billy..."

"You want more?"

With flushed cheeks, you nod.

"Where do you want me?"

You trace your skin and drag a long line down your chest, your stomach, your hip. You spread your thighs and rest one foot on the floor for balance. The other is thrown onto the back of the sofa.

Billy lets out a shaking breath. "Oh, baby. You're so generous. All for me?"

The arm that was over your eyes now reaches for him, and you hold his hand. Lacing your fingers together feels as intimate as anything else. The butterflies in your stomach take flight again. "You."

"I missed your taste so much." He slinks down your body and kneels in front of the sofa. Strong arms twist you so that your legs come to rest on his shoulders. "Look how ready you are for me. Oh, you're so pretty."

His mouth is watering at the sight of you. Glistening, swollen, hot. His toes curl.

"Please," you whisper.

"What do you want me to do, baby?"

The pet name makes your thighs twitch. You used to cringe when you heard people call their partners 'baby', but in the most intimate moments with Billy, it feels so right. You're his. "Your mouth."

"Should I use it for 'shit chat up lines'?" And despite the overwhelming desire that shrouds you both, he grins.

God, it's so pretty the way his lips pull up like that. It makes his eyes sparkle, brings out smile lines on his cheeks. He's so loveable. "No. The other thing."

"What other thing?"

"You know."

He kisses the inside of your knee where it rests on his shoulder. "I know. But I want to hear you say it."

You blush - you hear your heartbeat in your ears. You feel it rush between your legs. "Please, Billy. Eat me out."

He almost growls in relief. "God, you're such a good girl. Thank you for using your words for me."

The praise makes you whimper. He's so good at it.

Between your thighs, Billy bites his lip. And then he closes the distance, and he's home. There's no home without you, not really, and this is the hearth. Warmth, fire, comfort. He loves your soul - but it's your cunt he worships.

His fingers make a 'v' shape at the apex of your thighs to spread you wide for him. The sight of your swollen clit, red and wet, makes him groan quietly. He tilts your hips slightly and presses his tongue first to your entrance, and the briny saltness of your readiness makes his eyes close. Your taste. Your fucking taste.

"Look at me." Your voice floats in the air like a song. His eyes open quickly and meet yours. It sends bolts of pleasure through him to hold your gaze as he runs his tongue up your length. Beneath it, your pulse rushes. A testament to how much you need him. How desperate he makes you. It's a love letter, every beat.

His tongue is soft while he pries at your entrance. The nerves there are stimulated in response, and your stomach tenses and relaxes in a familiar rhythm. Like he did around your nipple, here, he circles in a steady pace until you're arching closer for something more. As he sucks on your soft folds, you throw your head back and whine.

"Billy," you moan. "That feels so fucking good."

You're rewarded with a long lick up to your bud. He can't resist ghosting his teeth over it, and when you squeal, he smiles against your cunt. Each time you glance down at him, you meet his gaze. He can't take his eyes off your face.

Between his legs, his cock is neglected and aching. There is no stimulation for him, no relief. But it's like he's sharing in your physical pleasure now. He applies pressure with the flat of his tongue to your clit and rubs it back and forth, and the pleasure that builds for you also does for him.

Then, he pulls back.

"Shit, Billy-!" You glance down at him, panting, and see how wet his chin and lips and nose are. It makes you proud. All for him.

He can't keep away from you for long, though. Only a few seconds of respite are given to you before his tongue finds its place back on you. You're so warm and silky against his mouth, it's heaven. So slick and wet, too, impossibly ready. Billy nods his head up and down - still holding your gaze like his life depends on it - and lets his tongue pry against your entrance. Just a little angle change, and his nose catches the underside of your clit.

"Yes!" you beg. "Just like that, right there!"

But he can do more for you. He can be better, always better. With your thick scent filling his nose, your salty taste filling his mouth, he nips at your folds and then finally, finally, seals his lips around your clit.

Stars pop in his eyes now, not just yours. His cheeks hollow out as he sucks on you. Arms clamp around your thighs, biceps straining to hold you fast. Your own hands bury into his sandy hair to stop him from moving, too. You're locked together, bodies and souls.

"Yes!" you encourage again. "Billy, I'm so close, I'm so close, keep going, please, pl-!"

His mouth fills with your taste, with his own saliva, and he keeps suckling on you. Pressure is building in your stomach and his, and your cries and moans and begs push him, push him, push him. It's too much, he'll crack soon, he can't last much longer, not with your own climax imminent-

"Billy! Billy! Oh my God, oh my God! Billy! Bill-"

The lips around your clit wrench an orgasm from you that makes you scream. Your knees tighten against his ears and your whole body shakes. It washes over you for five seconds, ten, fifteen-! Your throat is raw from the gutteral cries, your cunt is throbbing from the tension and release, tension and release.

And then Billy is moaning between your thighs. His blue eyes are fixed on yours. But they're blown wide, and his hands are trembling, and then his jaw is slack, and his whole body jerks once. You whimper when you realise what's happened. It's the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen.

He’s come just from eating you out alone. No touch, no stimulation. Just making you finish has him spilling in his fucking trousers.

After a while, you both go limp. He barely has the strength left to climb on top of you on the sofa, but somehow he manages.

Minutes go by. Your breathing steadies. It matches up. Your hearts beat in tandem.

Peace reigns in your home.

After a while - minutes, hours, who knows? - you return to your body. The weight of Billy on top of you helps. Your hands find their way back into his hair, and you slowly massage his scalp.

"Mmm."

You smile at the noise he makes. "You're brilliant. You know that, right?"

His face is tucked into your neck, sweaty and sticky. "For that?"

"For everything."

"Mmm?"

"Yeah. I mean, you're good at that." You laugh quietly. It makes him shake a little on top of you. "But everything else, too. You picked me up from the airport. You made sure the flat was spotless. You bought me lavender."

He kisses your neck softly. "This is all I think of."

"Mm?"

"It's you, all for you. Everything I do."

You pull him closer and smile, letting your eyes close in bliss. "You're my heaven."

Billy strokes your sides. "You're my home."

#Billy Washington x female reader #billy washington x reader #billy washington x you #billy washington #ewan mitchell #trigger point #mine #billy multi

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