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worksby-d · 2 years

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A Great Mentor: Tattoos

A One Shot

Summary: Your daughter likes hearing about her daddy’s tattoos but doesn't understand why he doesn't have one for her. Partly inspired by an idea a lovely anon gave me 🥰

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader, Andy Barber x Daughter

Warnings: None

Word count: ~1,200

Series masterlist

*Flashback in italics

“What about this one, daddy?”

You faintly hear your daughter’s voice as you begin to wake up. If you had to guess, it's probably the rustling of the bed that woke you up. Andy tries to contain Evie to his side of the bed in the mornings, but her inability to sit still usually overpowers his efforts.

“Umm,” you hear your husband hum after her question. That one means daddy was young and drunk and let his equally-drunk friend choose his tattoo, is what he wants to say. “I just thought that would look pretty on my shoulder. What do you think?”

“It’s ok,” she shrugs, tracing the dark black lines with her small finger.

By now, you’ve caught on that she's asking about his tattoos, and you almost laugh out loud at her blunt indifference. You want to speak up and agree with her knowing exactly which one that was about, but you always enjoy listening to their morning conversations, so you keep your back toward them and let them think you're still asleep.

“This one?” She moves on to a different one, pointing to some seemingly random numbers separated by a few dashes. “One… One… Two…”

“Good job, peanut,” he nods, giving her a reassuring look as she reads the numbers. “Keep going.” Waiting for her to be done, he tells her what it is. “That's a date–a day very important to your mama and I.”

The day of your first date. You knew that's the one she was on as soon as she started naming the numbers. You can vividly remember him proposing the idea for that one to you… mostly because that wasn't his first choice.

“Of course,” you laughed a little, shaking your head at the question he asked. He'd been getting tattoos long before he even met you; you weren't sure why he was asking if he should this time–basically asking for your permission. “I think they're hot. Why would I say no?”

“Because…” He drew the word out and you gave him a go-on look. “I'm thinking about getting your initials or something.”

You couldn't help the sudden laugh that escaped you, stopping what you were doing to look at him for a sign he was fucking with you. He just scoffed, letting out a confused laugh of his own.

“You're an idiot. Why would you do that?”

“Honey–” He found how appalled you were amusing if he was being honest. “What's wrong with that?”

“Don't you think it's bad luck or something?”

“Not really,” he shrugged, but his eyes narrowed on you. “You planning on leaving me or something?”

That got you to crack a smile again. “Shut up.”

“If you don't want me to, I won't.” He held his hands up in defeat. “That's why I asked.”

“Decide on something that isn't my name, and I might go with you,” you offered. “There's something I've been wanting to get too.”

He waited for you to elaborate, but instead you moved to leave the room.

“Okay,” he laughed. “You're not going to run yours by me?”

“No because it's not something stupid like a name,” you called out as you kept walking.

Since that's how it was going to be, he kept his new idea a secret too. Until the day you actually went to get them done. He could feel you staring at him as he parked in front of the studio, an expectant glare.

“The date of our first date,” he said, knowing exactly what you wanted him to answer.

Your gaze instantly softened when he looked over at you.

“Really?”

He jokingly cringed. “You're not going to veto this one too, are you?”

“No,” you laughed, reaching over to give him a reassuring pat on the leg. “No, I’m not. Why that date though? Don't people usually wait and do their wedding date or something?”

“I don't know.” He shifted a bit in his seat so he could face you better. “By then we’d been together basically six months, but it was a really weird six months without a label, and we'd been through a lot. I feel like things kind of fell into place for us come our first date.”

“You sap,” you smirked. “That's really nice.”

“So I have your permission for this one?”

You answered by leaning over to give him a quick kiss. “You have my permission.”

“Mom was with me when I got this one,” he tells her. “She got a tattoo that day too. On her arm.”

Before he can stop her, she's crawling over to you to look. He asks her not to wake you, but your laugh cuts him off.

“I’ve been awake,” you chuckle, rolling over to face them. “You guys are loud.”

He mouths a quick Sorry before Evie’s resting a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. “Daddy said you have one too!” She points at his chest, telling you she means a tattoo.

“Right here.” You hold your arm out for her to see the small outline on the inside of your upper arm. “Angel wings. ‘Cause of the nickname daddy calls me.”

“Pretty,” she gasps, running her fingers over the dainty lines.

You can't suppress the urge to stick your tongue out at Andy. At least she thinks one of you has a pretty tattoo.

The expression on Evie’s face abruptly falls though as she turns back to her dad. “None for me?”

“No what for you, princess?” You both share a look, not sure what she's talking about.

“Ta-do.” Her lip quivers as she answers. “One for mama, but not me.”

Oh. He quickly gathers that she doesn't understand why he has one that symbolizes you but not her. Neither of you want a full meltdown this early in the day, so he quickly, but gently, pulls her back against his side while he reaches for his phone. “C’mere, I’ll show you something, sweetie.”

It takes him a second to find it amongst all the random pictures and videos he has of her in his phone, but he finally taps on it for her to see–a draft of a new tattoo.

“This is gonna go right next to brother’s,” he points to the left side of his chest where he has Jacob’s name. “That's your foot print from when you were a baby.”

She giggles at that, reaching out to touch the screen trying to make the picture bigger. Andy helps her so she can attempt to read her full name. She struggles because of the fancy typeface though, so he reads it for her.

Her eyes flicker to the spot he pointed to next to Jacob’s name as if she's trying to envision it.

“Do you think that'll be a good place for it?”

“Uh-huh,” she sniffles, snuggling closer against him. “Pretty, daddy.”

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#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #andy barber imagine #chris evans imagine #requested #a great mentor series

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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Painting By Numbers (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer is still a little worried about his pregnant wife painting the house. A/N: This follows great from Impromptu and Fairytales flows well from this one! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: Pregnancy Word Count: 1.9k

MASTERLIST

There was something relaxing about painting. As much hard labor as it was to tape, prime, and paint a room, I never grew tired of it. I'd have changed the color of my childhood bedroom a hundred times if I could have.

That being said, it was a lot harder when you were nearly six months pregnant.

I still tried to enjoy it. I tried not to let myself get too focused on the ache in every inch of my body. Instead, I focused on how the lavender smeared over the white primer. The color alone sent butterflies through my stomach, a smile spreading across my face at the first line on a new wall.

"Someone's been busy while I've been gone..."

Spencer's voice shook me from my reverie, and I jumped with a shout as I dropped the roller that I was holding.

"You weren't supposed to be home yet!" I quickly explained, leaving the roller on the plastic lining below me. I couldn't pick it up even if I wanted to in my current state.

That was okay, though. My husband carefully navigated the buckets of paint, making his way over to me and picking it up for me.

"And you aren't supposed to be painting by yourself," he chastised. Spencer placed a gentle kiss on my forehead after a cluck of his tongue, but nonetheless handed me back the tool I'd been using.

"I stayed ground level!" I pointed out with a wave of my hand to demonstrate what I meant. About halfway up the wall, the paint had abruptly stopped. Cocking my hip to the side, I proudly proclaimed, "There's not even a ladder in here."

The sneaky smile on his face told me I wasn't out of the doghouse yet. He nodded, noting the absence of ladders and the very obvious cutoff where my arms could no longer reach.

"Hmmm," he hummed, reaching for a clean roller on one of the chairs in the middle of the room. "I also see a very interesting color on our walls..."

There it was.

We'd spent hours talking about what color to paint the nursery. After the conversation ended, we hadn't actually made a final decision. Spencer had gotten whisked away to work and I was just sitting at home bored.

So, I'd made an executive decision. It just happened to also be one he'd argued against a few days prior.

Oops?

"Okay, I know you said babies can't really see colors for the first five months but— get this," I started, waving the still wet roller around. I was already practically covered in paint, so it was pointless to even bother trying to stop the few speckles that shook off. "They said that cool tones like purples can both energize and calm the baby. It's the best of both worlds, right? It'll lower their blood pressure and heart rate, and it's supposed to even help them sleep! Plus, it's gender neutral and it's your favorite color."

Spencer had patiently waited until I finished my mini rant, a strange pride in his eyes at the way I'd taken on his mannerisms.

"Oh really? My favorite?"

He said it sarcastically, but then he actually took a minute to stare into the bucket beside him. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth puckered up like they always did when he was trying to recall a memory.

"Is this...?"

He didn't need to finish the question. I'd already been caught.

"... Alright, fine. I took your shirt to the store when I mixed the paint."

It sounded so silly when I said it, and Spencer clearly agreed, because he broke out into a full, lighthearted laughter.

"What? Seriously?" he asked through the chuckles, "Why?"

A blush bloomed over my cheeks, and I hoped that the paint smeared over my face might cool the pink hue enough to hide my embarrassment. Spencer had dipped the roller in the paint, starting to work beside me while he waited for my answer.

"I just... I also kind of thought that it'd be nice since you have so many clothes this color and..." I mumbled, trying to hide the words, "it's stupid, forget it."

He seemed a little concerned, but mostly curious.

"No, tell me." It was still a request, although worded like a demand.

I kept my eyes affixed on the wall in front of me, enjoying the catharsis that came with covering any hint of white behind a wall of cool toned colors. Whether it was some psychological phenomenon or just a result of my husband's comforting voice, I quickly built up the courage to finish my train of thought.

"I thought it might be nice for when you're away, you know? Like they're surrounded by the color they see you wearing the most..." I trailed off, my mind drifting off to thoughts of the coming future.

I could see it so clearly in my mind. Spencer, curled up on the rocking chair in the nursery on those nights where he would come home past midnight. The image was so vivid and bright, with a tiny hand holding tightly to his finger. But he would be the one wrapped around the finger of an eight pound human.

A shaky breath beside me brought me back to the current reality, and I turned to see tears already streaking down his cheeks.

"Ah! Please don't cry!" I yelled, putting down the roller and waddling over to grab his hand. I should have known better than to bring up the fact he'd miss so much time that his child might need help to remember to think of him. I shouldn't have brought it up at all.

"I didn't mean to—" I started, but he cut me off before I could get too far.

"I don't think that's stupid."

He used the back of his free hand to wipe away the tears, even though more continued to fall. He bent down to give me a quick but passionate kiss, caressing my face while his thumb grazed over dried paint marks on my cheeks.

"I missed you so much," he muttered, bringing our connected hands up to rest on the large bump resting between the two of us. "I missed them, too."

We stayed just like that for a long while, listening to the soft sounds of the city. Spencer's hands roamed over my belly, a clear warmth in each motion. But then his eyes lifted, his nose twitching from the strong scent of paint covering the walls, floor, and myself.

"You kept this area well ventilated, right?"

Ah, I thought, there was the romantic I knew and loved. I glared at him before motioning around the room once again. For all his brains, he seemed unable to accept the very obvious answer.

"Spencer there are two fans on and the window is open in June." He kept staring, and so I continued in an even more exasperated tone, "It's ninety five degrees outside. And I'm pregnant."

"Got it," he said with a nervous chuckle, recognizing that he was being just a little bit overprotective. That realization lasted a good thirty seconds before he glanced down at the unfamiliar label on the bucket.

"And you checked the ingredients in the paint?"

I sighed, dipping the roller while I spoke with a sickly sweet sarcasm, "Ah, yes. Only 100% lead and asbestos for our offspring."

When he didn't answer, I looked up to find one of my favorites of the many faces of Spencer Reid. His bottom lip stuck out in an overdramatic pout, his golden-brown eyes looking absolutely pathetic.

"You worry too much, dear," I said with a real smile this time, gathering paint on my nail and flicking it in his direction.

He nearly tripped over the chair behind him when he jumped out of the way of the purple liquid that came nowhere near him. I laughed at his complete lack of coordination before turning back to the wall.

"Worry less and paint more!" I demanded.

And luckily, Spencer took pity in the fact that I'd basically finished two thirds of the room by myself while he'd been traveling.

I found that painting could be fun, even when I was six months pregnant. I just needed the right person to do it with. The time passed quickly, and soon enough the sun was setting and the temperature was reaching manageable levels again. Spencer took a seat on one of the chairs, dropping his head back and letting his arms fall to the side.

I laughed, greatly aware of the fact that I still had better upper body strength than the goddamn FBI agent. With both hands on my stomach, I leaned against the windowsill to breathe in the fresh air.

"God, I'm so ready to not be pregnant anymore," I groaned, my back and I aching from the weight.

"You realize you'll have a baby then?"

Slowly turning to the man who clearly had a death wish, I grinned.

"Yeah, but then I can just hand them to you."

With a shy smile, he lifted his arms to make grabbing motions with his hands in my direction.

"Bring them to me now."

It was such a cute display that I had to comply, making my way over the crinkly plastic until Spencer could reach me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, his face resting against the bump.

I didn't complain about the added weight, running a hand through his sweaty hair and just being grateful that I had a husband who clearly loved us so much.

"I'm sorry I changed the color without asking you."

Spencer lifted his head to look up at me with a tender expression before he pressed a kiss against the dirty jumper covering my bump.

"I don't care what color the room is," he said quietly, the truth evident in his voice, "All that matters to me is that you're safe and happy. Everything else is secondary."

In a desperate attempt not to cry, I shifted to sit down in the chair next to him. We both scooted over so that we could be closer, his arm wrapping around my shoulder and my head falling against his.

We stared at the now lavender wall in front of us, picturing what it would look like in three months' time. Soon the crib would be ready, and then even sooner after it would be filled.

"Hey Spencer?"

"Yeah?" he responded, already on the verge of falling asleep in the horribly uncomfortable plastic folding chair.

"I kind of hate it."

He burst out laughing, pulling me closer and kissing my temple to try and offer some sympathy. We were both so utterly exhausted. It was that level of tired where even the most mundane thing seemed hysterical.

"I knew you would!" he bragged, all while ignoring the pout on my face.

Scrunching up my face with a devious smirk, I turned to whisper in his ear, "Do you think we can trick the team into doing most of the repaint by promising them pizza and baby pictures?"

Spencer thought about it for a second, his eyebrows raising before nodding in approval.

"And they call me a genius..."

"I'll call them tomorrow," I said with a pat on his leg. "Although, I kind of have a feeling our nursery is going to be rainbow colored if we let Penelope come."

He chuckled nervously, shaking his head tiredly.

"Whatever makes you happy," he promised. "Everything else is secondary."

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fluff #fluff #spencer reid request #reid request #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spence reid

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hotchscvm · 3 years

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love me, hate me - part one

Warnings: swearing, angst if you squint, mild violence

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Who knew Ransom would get so worked up about a few stolen beers?

Or: In which he's a sucker for you but those were his favorite beers.

He didn't know why he put up with your shit. If you had been anyone else, you'd be working at a dead end job that barely covered your bills instead of walking around the mansion in your brand new Lois Vuitton purse, Jimmy Choo heels that screamed for him to fuck you, and a tight dress he wanted to tear off.

You even had the balls to call him Hugh, a name he specifically reserved for the help. When he informed you, you had rolled your pretty powdered eyes, sneering at him for being an inconsiderate asshole before asking why he wasn't calling himself Hugh due to the massive help sign that was disguised as his cashmere sweater.

Ransom didn't know if he wanted to hurt you or make you his. He preferred the latter but with the way you were pushing him, he wouldn't be surprised with himself if you somehow found yourself in the backseat of his car, tied up and awaiting for him to fuck you senseless. If you had been anyone else, he would ruin your life without hesitation.

He tried to hate you, he really did and usually, it wouldn't be hard for him to hate someone. Most of the time it barely took him a glance for him to decide to loathe the person. But as he tried harder to hate you, forget you, and ignore you, the more you wiggled your way into his every thought. Even then he couldn't hate you. It made part of him want to ditch family gatherings where he knew you would show, being Meg's best friend, and another part of him was exhilarated.

You on the other hand dreaded being dragged into another Thrombey's family gathering where it all ended in arguments and racists comments. The only people you were able to stomach were Harlan, his adorable nurse, Martha, and of course, your best friend Meg. Whenever the conversation began to look like a shouting match, the two of you would sneak away to get high with the maid, Fran.

Ransom was an asshole, a hot, smoldering asshole with enough snarky remarks that would make any sane person hang themselves. You knew he wasn't a fan of yours, which was only good news for you; you hated him, too. The expression "there's a little bit of good in everyone." applied to everyone except him, not that you weren't surprised. Truth to be told, you wouldn't put it past him to kill a family member if they pissed him off enough.

With the number of jabs you made at his expense, you were shocked he hadn't ruined your life yet. Maybe you had a death wish dangling over you, or maybe you just liked pushing him but you made it your little mission to ruin his evening since yours would be the second he stepped in the room.

Meg nudged you with her elbow, leaving a sore spot on your ribs. You gave her a dirty glare, looking up from your Instagram feed. She motioned to the large mansion ahead, the car slowing. "Okay, the plan is to get drunk, but not enough for my drunk relatives to notice and once they're having one of their dumb-ass debates, we sneak off to Fran's room and smoke a few. That sound good?"

Stretching, you nodded, tucking your phone away. "Yeah, that's fine. Remind me how I ended up spending Thanksgiving break with you, again? What did I ever do to deserve such a punishment?"

"You crushed your parent's wishes on becoming a lawyer, instead became an Instagram model, and the holidays with them are too long for you to hear how their daughter could've convicted criminals instead of posting bikini pics," Meg replied, grinning at your sarcastic pout. She stopped the car right beside her mom's. "Come on, it won't be that bad."

"That's what you said last time. Do you not remember how that little reunion ended?" you asked, opening the car door and getting out. The little gravel on the cemented driveway crunched under your new heels, making you grimace.

Meg shut her door, grabbing her purse. She waited at her side of the car and you both walked up to the door. "Actually, I don't. I'm surprised you can especially with all the weed you smoked."

Rolling your eyes, your mind wandered to the man who had killed your buzz. "Your asshole of a cousin ruined my buzz just by opening his mouth. He could be so much hotter if he never utters a single word ever again."

"Please stop talking about Ransom, it's making my lunch come back up." Meg whined, her feet trudging up the steps. Your heels clicked on the wooden porch. "Which reminds me, he kept asking if you were going to be here. Be careful, he might have a little trap to humiliate you in front of my family. If that happens, just knee him in the balls, and we can go to Cabo or something."

You made a face, cringing just thinking of Ransom asking about you, let alone imagining some kind of plan to embarrass you. "Ugh, what a dick. It's time like this that I regret not going back to my crazy family for holidays."

"You'll be fine. Hopefully. Let's go see Harlan." she opened the door, taking off the lush coat draped over her shoulders before placing it on the spacious coat closet by the entrance. She held her hand out for yours and you slid it off handing it over for her to hang up.

Martha greeted you before you could take another step, the Latina smiling at both of you. "I'm so glad both of you are here. The rest came in before you and they've been bickering since."

You both gave her knowing smiles, the loud discussion so heated you could hear it from all the way across the house. Meg sighed, snaking an arm around yours and Martha, pulling you towards Fran's quarters. "Looks like Harlan will have to wait. I'm not going in there sober."

Martha shook her head, slipping her arm out from Meg's grasp. "Sorry, I don't drink and I have to serve them before they get any rowdier. Between the three of us, I'd rather not see another fist brawl this holiday."

You let out a dry chuckle, fixing the hem of your dress. What were you thinking wearing such a tight dress to a party where Richard Drysdale would mentally undress you with his beady eyes. "We'll come with you, now won't we, Meg?"

She groaned, getting pulled by you, her feet dragging on the hard floor. "We're spending Christmas at your parents' house. You can suffer the family drama because I've had it up to here with mine."

"Oh, you big baby." you teased, following Martha to the living room with Meg in tow. You'd think with all the drama she endured from her crazy mother she'd be able to handle a little more from her crazy relatives. "Wanna mess with that racist, whiney troll?"

Meg's lips lifted into a smile. "That's why you're my best friend."

Martha took a turn towards the kitchen instead of the living room, leaving you and Meg to enter the roomful of crazies alone. Some heads turned but not enough to stop the little debate happening.

Jacob sat at the uncomfortable seat in the corner of the room, watching and tapping the screen in front of him, his eyes never tearing from the device. Linda and Donna sat side by side while their husbands had a screaming match with the other. Joni stood by the fireplace, sipping her wine, and occasionally input some random Pinterest inspirational shit. Your eyes landed on the man you thought would take his sweet time arriving.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale sat at his self-proclaimed seat, eating his Biscoff butter cookies, a smirk evident on his face as he watched you walk into the room. He tried to ignore the way his heart raced, blaming it on the cookies and his seven-month dry spell.

You broke free from Meg's arm, pouring yourself a flute full of champagne, swallowing every last drop before making your way to the plush couch, sitting beside your best friend. Your perfume whiffed in the air as you passed Ransom, making him sit up in his chair. You sat close enough for him to reach over and touch you, but he didn't.

Linda gave you the warmest smile she could muster, interrupting the men's argument to greet you. "Hello, darling. Glad you could make it. At least now there's someone in the room with half a brain."

Walt sneered at his sister before giving you a half-hearted smile. "Hey, kid. Your dad still adamant you become a lawyer?"

"Yup," you answered, pulling out your phone, seeing a bunch of notifications from said person. "Why else do you think I let Meg kidnap me, Walt? No offense, but Thanksgiving at the Thrombey's doesn't classify as peaceful or relaxing."

Ransom guffawed, earning glares from his family members. He smirked at you, biting off a piece from his cookies. "Finally, someone who speaks the truth. No wonder she's his favorite."

That subject launched another debate: deciding who was Harlan's favorite. It was no doubt, Martha was but you did come at a close second. Ransom knew, and he didn't want to miss an opportunity to watch his relatives fight. He was a dick that way. He glanced at you, seeing your phone light up as you whispered a secret to Meg. You ignored the phone call, turning over the phone.

While the rest of the family argued, you left Meg's side, getting up from the uncomfortable couch, and walked out of the room. Ransom watched you, licking his lips at the sight of sashaying, hips swaying, and heels clicking. The crotch of his pants grew uncomfortably tight.

Meg watched him watch you with narrowed eyes, suspicious by her cousin's behavior. He may be 33 but he still acted like a teen, and with her best friend pushing him, there was no telling what he'd do. "If you do anything stupid or remotely offensive to her, I'll make sure to send her your head for her next birthday. Maybe she'll have it taxidermied, and hang it up."

Ransom smirked, tossing the last of his cookie in his mouth, chewing as he looked down at his cousin. "That'll only give me a view of a lifetime. My, this college you go to doesn't seem to teach manners does it? Charming as ever, Meg."

She scowled at him, getting up in the middle of the argument. She couldn't stop whatever he was planning if she didn't know what he had in mind but she wasn't going to ruin this holiday for her best friend. Meg followed you to the kitchen, seeing you take a shot glass from Martha. "Drinking already?"

"Don't judge me. Lemme wallow in the warmth and love of the alcohol that your family isn't capable of," you replied, drinking the clear liquid, grimacing as it burned your throat. Martha handed you the chaser, her timid personality making her put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Thanks, Martha."

Meg took the bottle of vodka, pouring herself a shot before offering it to Martha who had shaken her head. "You sure?"

She nodded, placing the bottle back in its place. "Yeah, I don't need to be drunk when serving those people. It seems like it's even worse out there than before."

"Thank Ransom. That bastard decided to start another fight just by opening his mouth," you said, sipping on a glass of water. Sniffing the room, you smelt the Thanksgiving dinner Martha had to cook by herself. You knew she had to make a special meal for Ransom since he wouldn't dare put the traditional food in his mouth. Too bad, it'd shut him up. "Why is he here, anyway? Isn't he usually the last one to get here?"

"Usually, but he came with Linda and Richard. Don't worry, you're not the only confused." Martha answered. The oven timer beeped and she opened it, taking out the pumpkin pie. She held it out. "What do you guys think?"

"Looks delicious," Meg replied, looking around the room. The sun was setting and soon you would have to face Ransom again, for dinner. "Do you need any help, Martha? We could help you set up the table or something."

"No, it's fine. I have everything taken care of," she said, nearly dropping the big turkey. Meg helped her, carrying it to the counter. Martha smiled sheepishly. "I guess I could use some help. Meg, do you mind stirring the gravy? And [Y/N], would you please place some knives at the table?"

Both you and Meg nodded, helping the poor nurse. Harlan must've let Fran have the day off or else she'd be all over this. Meg grabbed a plastic ladle from the drawers while you took a handful of knives, leaving the kitchen and walking to the dining room. The long table had been filled with plates, glasses, and napkins, the only thing missing was silverwares. Harlan would have to give Martha a raise.

You had just placed the first knife down when Ransom came in the room, leaning against the arch, arms crossed as he took you in. Watching you, he realized he might have a knife kink, only when it comes to you. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to make some kind of remark.

When he didn't, you sighed, tossing a knife onto a clothed napkin. "Yes, you pretentious asshole?"

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wood and walking towards you. "Hello to you, too. Why exactly are you doing that? Shouldn't that Mary girl be taking care of everything?"

Oh, the urge to stab a knife in his face--it was almost too much to resist. "It's Martha and unlike you, I'm nice enough to offer help rather than be a lazy prick who no one loves. Karma's gonna bite you in the ass one day, baby."

Ransom snorts, walking up next to you, so close you could feel the heat coming off of him. "You know, my dear cousin mentioned something about some prank she thinks I'm going to pull on you. Do you know what's going on in that stoned brain of hers?"

"Ransom?" you asked, making your way around the large table, placing knives where they belonged. Gritting your teeth into a smile, you turned to him. "I mean this in the best way possible: fuck off."

He would never dare admit it, to himself even, but that hurt him a little. Not enough to break his smug exterior. "Aw, I like you, too, sweetheart. Hurts when you don't admit you do, too. Want some help on the other silverware?"

Your jaw dropped, the knife slipping through your fingers and Ransom caught it quickly. He placed the knife on the empty, designated napkin. "You're fucking with me."

"No, but I sure would like to fuck you." he grinned, the hidden objective twinkling in his eyes. You rolled your eyes, returning back to the kitchen with Ransom following. "Can't a guy help out around here?"

Ransom grabbed your hand before you could push the kitchen door open. He gently led you to the dark, almost hidden hallway beside the dining room. You snatched your hand back, your elbow grazing the wall behind you. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Spending time with my favorite person," Ransom answered, the smirk gone as he backed you to the wall behind you, leaving you no room to escape. Not that you wanted to. His eyes dropped to your lips, only to darken when yours flashed to his. "Why're you so special? Why do you keep invading my thoughts, my dreams, huh? What're you doing to me?"

That made you smile, amused he couldn't stop thinking about your body. You drag your manicured finger down his blue sweater, earning a shaky breath from him. "Glad to know you have wet dreams about me, Hugh. Hmm, what do you get off to, anyway? Degradation? BDSM? Or are you vanilla in bed? With the way you act, it makes me wonder if you even have a dick."

He growled, slamming you into the wall so hard your head made a loud thud. You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on a bit. You did like it rough. "Your a guest here, act with respect, [Y/N]. Close that mouth before you say something you'll regret."

"Wouldn't you like it if I used my mouth for something useful?" you breathed, hands resting on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. His eyes drifted to your lips, tongue darting out to moisten his own. "Yeah, you would."

"What that mouth do, sweetheart?"

You heard the oven timer ding and you smiled, moving your lips to his ear. "Eat."

—

His thigh brushed against yours, a hand "accidentally" landing on your bare thigh, his fingers wrapping around the leg. You flashed him a hard smile before moving your thigh away, almost kicking his wife across the table. You scooted closer to Ransom, hoping to avoid his father's uncomfortable advances. If it wasn't for Linda, you would've stabbed the knife you were holding in his hand.

Apparently, you scooted a bit too close to Ransom for him to raise an eyebrow at you, the hint of a soft grin appearing. You glared at him. "Don't."

Ransom chuckled softly, moving closer, close enough for your shoulders to touch. "Now who likes my company?"

"I do like your company... said no one ever." you snapped, keeping enough distance from Richard's wandering hands. If you could, you would've rip his fingers off, but the Thrombey's were too powerful. Ransom threw you a glance, looking between you and the gap between your chairs. You grit your teeth. "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

You pushed away from the table, frustrated with everything about your situation. Tossing your napkin on your plate, you stood up, catching everyone's eye. "Excuse me."

Meg was in the middle of eating her share of the turkey, looking up with a piece of the skin hanging from her mouth. If you hadn't felt so uncomfortable, you would've laughed. She sat up, tilting her head in question as she covered her mouth. You shook you head, assuring her you'd be fine.

Ransom's eyes followed you as you walked by Harlan, giving him a gentle peck on the cheek and a hug before walking out of the dining room. He didn't think he'd ever be jealous of his grandfather. He waited a few seconds before following you, Meg's narrowed eyes watching him as he walked with purpose—he just didn't know what that was yet.

He heard your door slam before he could take a step up the stairs, leaving him confused on what to do. Ransom knew you would reject his company, not that he would blame you. Yet, he felt a little pang in his chest that he ignored, blaming it on the salty turkey. He'd have to go to the doctor soon, check out what was going on with his heart. It might be something serious like palpitations.

Sighing, he went to the kitchen, grabbing a beer and dragged his feet back to his room, trying to forget about the effect you had on him.

It didn't work.

—

Crawling out of bed, you tiptoed down the hall, careful not make a sound as you made your way downstairs. The stairs were loud and you cringed, hoping everyone was deep asleep. Meg had passed out after smoking Fran's stash, plopping down on her bed in your shared bedroom. She reeked of weed and that hadn't help you sleep at all.

You snuck into the kitchen, the soft counter lights bright in the dark room. Walking over to the fridge, you pulled it open, seeing Ransom's alleged "best" beer right at the front. Rolling your eyes, you grab one, popping the cap off. You took a sip, agreeing with the asshole; it was great beer.

Unfortunately, he chose that right moment to have a midnight snack. The kitchen door opened and Ransom was greeted by the sight of you drinking his beer in your tight tank top and booty shorts. It was enough for him to lose it.

Angrily, he walked up to you, snatching the beer from your hand, some of it dripping on the floor. He held it up in front of you with a sneer on his face. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my beer?"

You flinched when he threw it across the room, the shards sprinkling out on the floor. If his yelling hadn't woken up anyone, that certainly would've. Rolling your eyes, you sighed, crossing your arms. "Don't you mean Harlan's beer? It's not like you bought that beer from your own pocket since you don't do shit."

"Oh, I don't do shit? Unlike you I don't depend on horny men and lesbians for likes in order to keep a roof over my head." he spits, pushing you back against the counter.

"No, you just take money from mommy and daddy." you fired back, amused by his anger. You decided then you had a death wish. Or maybe it was just hot seeing Ransom so riled up. Either way, you weren't complaining.

Ransom growled, hands gripping your waist so tightly you were sure it would leave bruises. "Shut up."

Smirking, you lean towards him, lips hovering his. "Make me."

Before he could kiss you, you shoved him away, took another beer from the fridge and walked away without giving him a second look. Ransom stared after you, gripping the kitchen counter.

This wasn't over.

part two

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans masterlist #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #steve rogers #captain america

214 notes · View notes

hopelessromantic727 · 3 years

Text

Michael Clifford- Forever and Always

Author’s Note: Double post for my birthday <3

Word Count: 2296

Pairing: Michael Clifford x Reader

Warnings: None

Genre: Pure fluff

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

Michael's POV

She was my reason to live. Even after all this time, she could still make my heart race and make me feel butterflies. I loved her more than I loved anyone else. She makes me feel things I've never experienced before. She's my whole world. I only felt safe when I was around her. Heaven was anything involving her. She helped me restore my faith and made me believe again.

I remember the first time we met. I was at a party with the boys, celebrating the release of our debut album. I was talking with Calum when I heard her laugh. I turned around and felt chills run down my spine when our eyes met. I was starstruck. She was so beautiful. She had this look in her eyes that made me want to get to know her. I felt such a connection to her it was hard to look away as Calum tried to get my attention. I never believed in love at first sight, but I knew I had found it when I looked at her.

I got her number afterward. Our relationship progressed since then and my feelings for her grew even more. We had made things official after going on a few dates and confessing our feelings for each other. I knew we were meant to be together when, after four months of dating, I took her to Sydney to meet my parents.

Me and Y/N were outside my parent's home. She hugged both of my parents, thanking them for the dinner they made. They smiled at her, telling her that it was lovely to meet her. She looked at me and smiled, walking away from us, giving me some space to talk to my parents.

I looked towards my mom. She smiled and said, "can I give you some advice?" I nodded.

"Please don't let her go," my mom said. I smiled, leaning down, giving her a hug.

"I won't mom, I'm planning on keeping her forever," I said while hugging her.

"I know she's the one," I said, pulling away, looking at both of my parents.

"I'm happy for you Mike," my dad said, looking over my shoulder, "you deserve to be happy."

I looked over my shoulder, seeing Y/N standing a few feet from the car, looking at us while smiling.

I felt my mom nudge my arm, and I turned back around. She smiled at me before saying, "go after her."

I nodded while smiling. I hugged both of them again, promising them that I'll be coming back soon.

I walked towards Y/N, grabbing her hand and intertwining our fingers together.

"You ready?" she asked, looking at me with adoration in her eyes.

"Yeah," I said, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek.

* * * * * *

After almost five years of dating, I knew it was time to propose to her. I spent many weeks looking for the perfect ring for her. Many of those days, I was with the boys who were there to help me find the ring and for moral support.

We found the ring on a Sunday evening.

"This is probably like the fifth store we've gone to today," Calum complained.

Luke and Ashton scolded him as Ashton smacked Calum on the shoulder.

"Don't pressure him," Ashton said.

Calum rubbed his shoulder, muttering a small "sorry."

I felt Luke put his hand on my back while I looked at all the engagement rings.

"Found anything yet?" Luke asked, looking at the rings with me.

"Not yet," I muttered.

"Can I help you guys with something?" We looked up, seeing a girl that looked to be in her 20s.

"I don't know, maybe," I said, looking back down at the rings.

"He's looking for an engagement ring for his girlfriend," Luke replied, looking at the younger girl.

"Do you want a silver or a gold band for the ring?" she asked, looking with us.

"I think silver. She's always preferred silver over gold."

"Okay, come with me."

We walked with her towards the end of the counter.

"Here they are," she said, pointing at them.

I looked at each ring closely. I stopped my search when one particular ring caught my eye.

"Can I see that ring?" I asked the employee.

"This one?" She asked, pointing at it. I nodded.

She slid the glass door and grabbed the ring, handing it to me.

"This is a vintage-inspired ring," the girl said while I looked at the ring more closely in awe.

"Instead of having a traditional diamond, it has a sapphire stone."

I continued looking at the ring. It was perfect. Y/N loved anything vintage-inspired, and she's always loved the color blue because it was the color of the diamond in the necklace, The Heart Of The Ocean, from one of her favorite movies, Titanic. She'd always tell me how much she loved the necklace every time we watched the movie.

I smiled, "this is the one."

* * * * * *

After buying the ring, I asked Y/N’s brother for his approval of our marriage when he and his family came to visit.

"Hey Y/B/N, can we talk for a second?" He nodded, kissing his mother's head and joining me outside.

"What's up, Mike?"

"I want to ask you your opinion on something," I said, turning to look at him.

"Sure," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"What would you think about me marrying your sister?"

He looked at me in shock, "wait, really?" I nodded, getting nervous.

He looked away for a second, whispering "wow."

I was about to speak when he turned towards me again.

"You want my honest opinion?" I nodded again.

"I think that'd be great," he smiled at me, "you would have all of my support."

I let out a breath of relief as he patted me on the back.

"When are you proposing?"

"After I ask for your parent's blessing," I replied.

"Good luck with that."

I chuckled nervously, "thanks."

"Don't worry, they'll give it to you."

* * * * * * *

A few days after getting Y/B/N's approval, I asked her parents for their blessing.

Y/N's phone buzzed, disrupting our conversation.

"I'll be back Mikey, I'm gonna go answer this call," Y/N said, kissing me on the cheek before going outside.

I faced the kitchen where Y/N's family was. I entered and looked at them.

"Hey, umm, can I speak with you guys for a second?" I say, scratching the back of my neck.

They all looked at each other for a moment before Y/N's mother turned towards me.

"Sure," Y/N's mother said, signaling her husband and son to sit down before sitting down herself.

Y/B/N gave me a knowing look. I nodded at him, and he nodded back understandingly, giving me a small encouraging smile.

I sat down while the three of them looked at me.

"What do you want to talk to us about?" She asked.

"Well as you know, me and Y/N have been dating for five years now." They all nodded, urging me to go on.

"And I respect you guys a lot, and I consider you all family by now-"

"Okay, cut to the chase Michael," Y/N's father said, cutting me off, "what do you really want to talk to us about?"

I tried looking for the right words to say. "I..." I sighed, going for it.

"Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, may have your permission and blessing to marry your daughter?" I asked, looking at them nervously.

They looked at each other for a moment. Y/N's mother looked at Y/B/N, who nodded at her.

She looked at me, nodding, "you have my permission. I wouldn't want anyone else to marry Y/N but you." She stood up, opening her arms for a hug.

I let out a short breath of relief while standing up to hug her.

"You know you can call me Y/M/N no need to be fancy here," She said while hugging me.

I laughed, nodding my head, "okay."

I sat down again and looked towards Y/N's father, "Mr. Y/L/N?"

He looked at me for a second before leaning towards me from across the table, "you know I actually like you."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised. He nodded, continuing, "you're a great person Michael, and you've proven that as time passed by."

"So..." I began.

"So you have our blessing," he said before smiling.

I felt my heart leap with joy. I stood up, extending my hand for him to shake, "thank you so much Mr. Y/L/N, I won't let you down."

"You can call me Y/D/N," he said, standing up, hugging me instead of shaking my hand.

I nodded, hugging him back before sitting down with them.

"Have you gotten the ring yet?" Y/M/N asked.

I nodded, smiling, getting the velvet box out. I opened it, turning it around so they could see.

I saw Y/M/N gasp in shock, tears welling up in her eyes as she took the box into her hands.

"Oh my god, it's beautiful," she said softly, "she's going to love it."

"I hope so," I said, smiling at them.

She handed me the box back when we heard the front door open.

I put it back in my pocket as Y/N entered the kitchen.

"Hey, sorry I took so long, Y/F/N was freaking out for no reason, you know how she is." We all laughed.

"Well, now you're here," I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, smiling.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her parents exchange a glance while smiling.

* * * * * * *

Everything was ready for the proposal. We were on a beach in Greece.

Y/N was standing in front of me, looking at the sun that was starting to set while smiling. Y/N had always told me how much she loved sunsets. Every year on our anniversary, I took her to Greece, knowing how much she loved that place, to celebrate our anniversary, and every day we saw the sunset.

I looked around at all the people with us, each of them giving me a small smile while my bandmates, my family, and hers gave me a thumbs up.

I saw Calum mouth "good luck" to me. I nodded, silently thanking him for his words of encouragement.

The box in the pocket of my pants started feeling heavy as I approached her.

"It looks so beautiful," she said, looking at the sky, while I wrapped my arms around her.

"Not as beautiful as you," I said.

She smiled, turning to look at me, "thank you for bringing my family out here with us."

"No problem, besides, I know how much they mean to you. I had to bring them out here for our fifth anniversary," I said, kissing her bare shoulder, nuzzling my face in her neck.

"Also, I love them like I love my family."

"It seems like my family loves you too," she said, looking over my shoulder seeing her family. I turned, seeing them looking at us.

"Yeah, your dad too," I chuckled.

"Shockingly," she said while giggling.

"Hey, look," I said while turning her to face the front, "the sun is about to set."

We looked at the sunset in awe.

After a while, I saw the sky darkened, and I knew it was time.

I gently turned her around to face me. She looked at me a bit confused as I grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes.

"Y/N, I love you more than words can describe, but I'll try. You're the only girl who can put a smile on my face even when I don't want to. You can make me laugh even in my lowest moments. You've been there for me during my ups and downs, my highs and lows. I'm kind of surprised you've still stuck around," I said, laughing softly.

"The last five years have been the best years of my life because I spent them all with you. I want to be with you forever and for the rest of our lives. I want to grow old with you and have kids that look like us, running around our home. I want us to be together through all that life has us face. I want to love you every single day like I have for the past five years. There's so much more that I could say, but we have more than enough time for me to tell you. So Y/N, " I said, grabbing the blue velvet box from my pocket. I got down on one knee, looking up seeing tears in her eyes, with her hand over her mouth in shock as I opened the blue box, "will you marry me?"

She looked down at the box for a moment and looked back at me. She looked into my eyes.

"Yes, a million times yes," she said, tears leaving her eyes.

I let out a breath of relief, standing up, hearing our friends and family cheer as I placed the ring on her ring finger before kissing her.

"I can't wait to make you happy forever," I whispered against her lips after pulling away.

"You already have love," she said, looking into my eyes.

I pressed my forehead against hers, smiling while looking into her eyes.

"I love you," she whispered lovingly.

My smile widened, "I love you too, forever and always."

and they lived happily ever after

~the end~

-----------

this is what I was thinking of for the ring

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50 notes · View notes

xxkellsvixen19xx · 3 years

Text

Spotlight: A Life Of A Troubled Celebrity Heartthrob Ch 8

Word Count: 3,940

"Y/N, I need you in your dressing room now," Michelle grabbed mt arm as soon as we stepped out of the limo, "we don't have much time." She hurried them along, security surrounding them at every turn.

"I'll see you in a bit sweets," Colson called out and blew her a kiss as they separated.

Y/N blew one back and he caught it, causing her to blush furiously.

"I see your husband has beefed up your shadows," Michelle said wryly.

"Yeah, yeah he has. I don't have a say in the matter unfortunately," Y/N shrugged.

"Can't blame him though. You and Colson have been the entertainment headline news ever since he announced your wedding on social media," Michelle opened the door of the dressing room and Y/N followed behind.

"Please remove your clothes and wear this gown," Michelle handed her a short black silk gown

"Really? We've been on the news?" Y/N furrowed her brows, wanting to continue the previous conversation.

"Sweetheart, which planet have you been living on? Anything to do with Colson Baker is news. Sit," Michelle commanded as she pulled out a chair.

"I kinda went of the grid after..you know?"

"I know," Michelle gave her a knowing look and laughed, "I can tell by the marks he left on your body sweetie."

"Oh," Y/N covered her face, embarrassed.

"No need to be ashamed," Michelle laughed, "if I wasn't already married to Byron I would gladly stand in line to jump Colson's bones," she joked, "so does he live up to his rep or nah?" she pried.

"What?" Y/N blushed again.

"Sorry. I don't mean to pry," she pursed her lips.

"No, no. It's okay. I'd like to think we're friends?" Y/N asked.

"Of course! I should be hurt that you'd even-" she held the make-up brush mid-air.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Y/N squeezed Michelle's hand, "but he was more than I ever thought or imagined!" she gushed.

"I knew it!" They giggled like a pair of giddy school girls. They were interrupted when someone knocked at the door.

"Michelle," Colson cleared his throat as he stood at the door, "can you excuse us for a minute?"

"Make it quick and don't even think of spoiling her hair and make-up," Michelle glared at him before leaving the room.

"Well.. you heard the lady Bambi.." Colson locked the door and discarded his t-shirt at the door. He flexed his muscles like he had just entered a boxing ring.

"Colson..noo," Y/N held out her hands in a futile attempt to stop him from getting to her.

"I prefer it when you scream out yes.." he lifted her off the chair and switched places with her. She straddled him as he trailed hot kisses on her neck, causing her to lose herself in him.

"Michelle.."

"Can wait.." he claimed her mouth possessively and all resistance crumbled..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Good Evening Brussels!! How's everyone doing toniiight???!" Colson bounced onto the stage like he owned the world and everything in it.

The crowd went ballistic and he reveled in their screams and shouts. "Colson! Colson! Colson!"

He smiled and made a turn round the stage, psyching himself up for his performance. He ran from one end of the stage to the other touching and high-fiving as many fans as possible. Some fangirls passed out as soon as he made contact with them and guys ran around in circles. The crowd was in a frenzy and Colson hadn't even started performing yet!

"COLSON BAKER WE LOVE YOU!" the fans chanted over and over again.

"I LOVE YOU ALL! I LOVE YOU BRUSSELS!" Colson shouted over the screams and shouts as he sprinted from one end to the other one last time. More screams, crying and fainting ensued. The paramedics would be busy tonight.

"Tonight we have a very special guest on the ones and twos-please give it up for my one and only doe-eyed beauty-my wife Y/N Baker!!" Colson swept his hand towards Y/N as she stood behind the sound engineers desk. She waved shyly and slipped on her headphones. She was going to be taking Slim's place as sound engineer and DJ for the night. Michelle had dressed her up in a short Saint Laurent sequin embellished cocktail dress, epitomizing the band's statement sex appeal. She looked daring and fearless and it was a head-turning number, She completed the look with studded leather boots and her hair was a 80s messy look .

"You're looking hooot baby!" He winked at her and walked back to the edge of the stage. "I just want to give a shout out to my wife for taking care of me when I was sick. I don't know many people that would wipe puke off my face -for free-but you did it babe. I'm so grateful for you. This first song is for you sweets," he winked at her and positioned himself on a high-stool, "The song is called "Hangover Cure ," Colson strummed his guitar and his angelic voice resounded all over the stadium.

The audience was undoubtedly entranced and mesmerized by Colson. He had a commanding stage presence that sucked everyone in and all they could do was be fixated on him and him alone. Girls in the crowd were openly crying like he was singing the song to them and when he hit his signature high notes they were in a state of delirium. Banners and placards went up everywhere with words expressing how much his fans loved him. And he was truly loved by all of them.

Colson continued the next several songs on a mellow vibe and the crowd was falling more and more in love with this side of him. At one point he removed his baseball jacket and gave it to an adoring fan; who ran around the stage like a headless chicken. Of course the paramedics had to be called in to remove her from the stage after she had passed out.

"So tonight we're going to switch things up a bit," Colson carefully laid his guitar down and stood up again, "I'm going to get a few fans from the crowd to come up here and we're going to sing some of your favorite songs together. Can we do that?" The fans roared in agreement.

"I hope you all still have your ticket stubs cos' I'm just going to randomly call out a ticket number and if it belongs to you then you get to do a duet with me. That okay?" Colson grinned and the fans went wild.

"For the purpose of time and logistics, I'll call them out all at once and I hope you can make it to the front..if not then we will have to pick out someone else okay? Ready? Here goes..Drum roll please!" Colson said dramatically.

"Ticket number 2005, 5721; uhh-3688; 1012, 4562 and last one-6000? Please make your way to the front and produce your ticket to protocol otherwise..you all know the drill," Colson drank some water and a crew member rushed forward to wipe down his body. He wasn't feeling well but he pushed himself, he had to. "Music please," he called out to his band before hurrying over to Y/N.

"Sweets, I don't feel one hundred. Can we please go backstage for a few minutes?" he whispered in her ear and she nodded.

"Bathroom-" he ran to the restroom, clutching his stomach and Y/N asked security to wait outside while she checked on him.

"Are you okay babe?" she tapped on the door lightly.

"Yeah..noo-" he grunted before she heard him spilling his guts into the lavatory again.

"I'm coming in," Y/N announced, his meds and a bottle of water in her hand. She found him seated on the floor, with his back against the wall. His face was pale and his forehead had beads of sweat. Y/N handed the pills and water to him; then started to wipe him down with his face towel.

"Sorry," Colson held her against him.

"It's okay," Y/N gave him a weak smile, "I need to rinse out your towel, I'll be right back okay?"

"Hey! Are you guys okay?" Jax called out from outside, "Can I come in?"

"Come inside Jax," Y/N swung the door open and walked back to Colson, Jax close on her heels.

"Hey, are you okay kid?" Jax crouched next to Colson's slouched frame.

"Yeah, please get Byron to get a supporting act to cover for me for a while. I'll go and lie down in my dressing room for a bit. Help me up?" Jax pulled him off the floor effortlessly.

"I've already told Byron to take care of it. You sure you want to continue?" Jax asked skeptically.

"I will have to manage somehow..can't let the fans down. Beside I just have fan-dues and then I'll be done," Colson said as he put his arm around Y/N for support.

"If you're sure.." Y/N looked at him with concern.

"I'll be okay sweets; stop stressing," Colson leaned forward and kissed her temple.

"Fine," Y/N muttered.

"Okay, I'll leave you two to rest then. Will half-an-hour be enough?" Jax asked as they stopped in front of the dressing room?

"Yeah," Colson nodded.

"Okay, I'll be here to escort you back on stage," Jax replied.

Y/N opened the door for him and helped him lie down on the soft couch.

"Stay with me?" He pleaded. Y/N lay down next to him and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Your body is so hot," Y/N said in alarm.

"Ooh, tell me more baby.." he drawled and buried his nose in her neck.

"Colson, I'm serious..you're burning up," she turned to face him.

"Shh..stop worrying," he kissed her forehead, "I've taken my medication so I'll be fine in a minute. Go to sleep baby."

"You go to sleep Baker," she replied, "I'll be right here," she said softly.

"Thank you baby," he said before he drifted off to sleep.

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

"Are we really going to the after party?" Y/N frowned at her husband.

"Yes WE are!" Colson laced his hands with hers. They were standing in the foyer at the hotel where the after party was already in full swing.

"But you're not well?" she raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, courtesy of Michelle.

"We won't stay for long. Promise," he kissed her chastely, "I have to make an appearance you know that right? Plus I really need to get you home so I can finish off what we started in the dressing room.." he nuzzled her neck

"Hmm..and no drinking tonight? Agreed," she looked at him with her pretty E/C eyes.

"Sweets, come on!" he whined, "can we just go and have fun please? I could really use it," he massaged his temple with one hand.

"Why are you avoiding my question?? I'm watching you Baker," she eyed him suspiciously.

"I don't mind baby," he hugged her and gave her a long kiss.

"That's blackmail," she said, breathless.

"Is it working?" His breath danced on her lips.

"Let's go," she pushed him away playfully, "I really need to get this over and done with so I can go home and rest. I'm overdue on sleep."

"Sorry, that's my fault, I know," he said sheepishly.

"Just remember that when partying the night away and I have to drag you home," she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that Mrs Baker," he laughed softly as he hugged her waist.

"Good," she replied.

"What's he doing here?" Colson froze and Y/N followed his gaze. It landed on Slim. Jax and Byron were arguing with him in a corner.

"Let Jax handle it okay?" Y/N put her hands against his chest and pushed him back gently, "Let it go. Please?"

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth and walked away.

"Hey Colson! Hi Colson! Great show Colson!" was all Y/N heard as Colson held her hand all night.

"I need the bathroom," Y/N whispered in Colson's ear.

"Let me come with you," he stood up with her.

"No. Stay with your friends," she said with a wave of her hand, "I just spotted Ash so I'll go with her," Y/N pointed over to where Ashleigh was standing.

"You're sure? Slim is lurking about so I'm a bit uneasy," he confessed.

"I'll be fine okay"" she kissed the side of his mouth and he smiled.

"If you're going to kiss me then you should make it count Bambi," he crushed his lips against hers and kissed her breathless.

"Hurry back before I start missing you," he said as a parting shot.

"Hey there stranger!" Ashleigh practically jumped on her.

"Hey! Careful," Y/N giggled.

"How have you been? How are you handling having your face and relationship splashed all over the tabloids?" Ashleigh asked.

"Colson prefers it if I don't see that," Y/N replied, "probably doesn't want me to get worked up I guess,"

"So you've already become the little submissive wife have you? You consummated the marriage yet?" she smiled and nudged Y/N with her elbow.

"Something like that.." She laughed.

"I want all the deets but let's go and get something to drink first," Ashleigh pulled her over to the bar.

"I really didn't want to drink today Ash.." Y/N said hesitantly.

"Just have one with me?? We haven't hung out for a while..please?" Ashleigh coaxed.

"Okay fine," Y/N sighed in defeat, "just one," she held up her index finger for emphasis. They went to the bar and Ashleigh ordered two cosmos.

"Can we go to the bathroom?" Y/N shifted around in agitation, "otherwise I will pee on myself," Ashleigh laughed as she handed Y/N her drink.

"Let's just go up and use the one in my room?" Ashleigh suggested and Y/N nodded, "I-uh-need to get my phone. Need to take pics you know. It's our last week on tour," she said as the stepped into the elevator.

"Sommer!" they cried out in shock. Sommer was curled up in a ball, whimpering in the corner of the elevator. Her face was badly bruised, her nose was bleeding and she was a mess. Usually she was well dressed, without a hair out of place but tonight she looked like a junkie.

"Who did this to you?" Y/N demanded as she crouched next to Sommer.

"Just leave me alone okay!?!" Sommer snapped, "you and your perfect little life! Just leave me alone! Go away!" she yelled.

"I want to help you!" Y/N said, forlorn, "please allow me to help you?"

"Let's take her to her room, Maybe she needs to clean up a bit and sleep it off," Ashleigh looked around, nervous.

"If you're sure..?" Y/N said hesitantly.

"Look, why don't you go use the bathroom in my room and I will take care of Sommer? I'm sure Slim must already be looking for her of something," Ashleigh babbled.

"No! No Slim!" Sommer backed away in fear, "don't call him. Please?" she grabbed my arm.

"Okay, I won't," Y/N assured her. Something strange was going on here but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Come on Sommer let's get you cleaned up. You'll need a change of clothes as well," Y/N steered her in towards her hotel room.

"Let me do it!" Ashleigh said too quickly, "well..since you needed the bathroom so badly-I can help Sommer. You go ahead-I got this," she said with a tight smile.

"Okay.." Ashleigh was acting very strange today, maybe she was high on something, Y/N thought. Y/N looked walked into Ashleigh's hotel room and got a sense of foreboding but she just shrugged it off. She went into the bathroom and relieved herself and as he was washing her hands she heard hotel room door open.

She thought it was Ashleigh so she hurried out of the bathroom to find Slim standing at the doorway with a smug expression on his face.

"Hello Bambi..so glad you could make it," he slammed the door shut and locked it.

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

Y/N stared at Slim as he stood at the door, lazily leaning against it. He looked at her the was a lion on Animal Planet would eye it's prey before it moved in for the kill.. This was like déjà vu to Y/N but this time she wasn't going down without a fight. She had to think quickly before he had his way with her and by the way he was undressing her with his eyes, he was going to pounce on her any minute from now. Her short cocktail dress would make it so much easy for him.

"I've waited for this day for a very long time and I'm going to savor every inch of that delectable body.." he licked his lips and continued to trail his eyes down her body.

She was saved by a loud pounding on the door that startled both her and Slim.

"Slim!" Sommer called out from behind the door, "I know what you and Ashleigh planned-don't do it! Please! I'm begging you!" she said her voice breaking.

Y/N took this opportunity and dashed back into the bathroom and locked the door. If Sommer kept up the racket long enough then help would arrive soon. Slim snarled and he pounded on the door; Y/N searched around frantically for an opening but found none.

"You can try and run from me but you're only prolonging the inevitable," he taunted as he tried to beat the door down, "I'm going to have you and you're going to enjoy it my precious."

Y/N was wringing her hands, trying to figure a way out when her eyes fell on her Apple Watch that Colson had got her just last week. She quickly scrolled to the phone app and dialed Colson's number and he answered on the second ring.

"Hey I've been looking all over-"

"Help me please! I'm stuck in the bathroom in Ashleigh's room and Slim is outside-he tried to-he wants to-" Y/N's voice broke-.

" I'll be on my way. Hang tight okay?" Colson rang off.

The room was silent and she couldn't hear Slim moving around so she began to panic. What was he up to? Suddenly the bathroom door swung open and Slim stood with a self-satisfied smirk.

"I know how to pick locks my precious," he held a paper clip between his fingers. He threw the pin on the floor and locked the bathroom door again from the inside. Y/N tried to back away but the room was constricted. She started to hyperventilate and pressed redial on her phone, wishing and hoping that Colson would get here quicker.

"Told you..you can run but.." he trailed his finger along her cheekbone and she spat in his face.

"You're going to regret that," Slim gave her a dagger and pushed her against the tiled wall, "I'm sorry this is going to be quick and rough..I would have liked to take it slow but time is not on our side," he grabbed her roughly, lifted her up and placed her on top of the sink. Y/N began to scratch at his face and to kick and scream, but he grabbed her hands and tied them with his bandana.

"You're making this so hard for yourself precious..if you would just give in then we would enjoy the ride together but-I guess you like it rough," he tried to yank her dress further up her thighs but it was too tight and it was proving to be difficult. He pulled her off the sink and pushed her against the wall, "turn around," he said roughly. She faced the wall and started to cry.

"Save your tears for Colson. They're not going to work on me," he unbuckled his belt and she heard his pants fall to the floor.

"I'm not going to run like Scott. I'll just plead insanity due to drug addiction and they will let me go. I'm going to stick around so I can keep coming back for seconds," he pushed her face against the wall and whispered into her ear, "that's if you're good enough..hope I won't be disappointed Precious," he stuck his tongue in her ear and she cried out.

"Please don't!" she whimpered, her tears cascaded down her cheeks.

Suddenly, someone came crashing through the door and hurtled towards them. Slim had no time to register what was happening but a pair of hands grabbed his neck, threw him on the floor and started to strangle him. Y/N sank onto the floor and broke down. Sommer ran over to her and hugged her.

"I'm so sorry Y/N-I didn't know-" Sommer cried along with Y/N, "he and Ashleigh had planned it. I had nothing to do with it-I swear! Please believe me!"

"Colson!" Jax shouted, "You're going to kill him-let go!"

"Death is too good for this scum!" Colson screamed as Jax and the other body guards dragged him off Slim. His eyes fell on Y/N and he dashed over to her. She had passed out probably due to shock or relief or maybe both.

Slim took advantage of the distraction and made his escape, spluttering and fighting for breath. Jax eyed him warily and decided to let him go. He knew he would be back.

"It's okay sweets. I'm here now. You're safe. I got you baby." he lifted her limp form in his arms and carried her out of the room.

"Do you want me to go after him?" Jax walked beside them.

"No. I'll get him. One way or another, I'll get him," Colson narrowed his eyes, "I want you to get that spawn of Judas-Ashleigh. I want her to look me in the eye and explain why she did what she did to my wife," the elevator doors slid open and Jax held them back to allow Colson to step inside.

"She's already in a car and is on her way to the house," Jax reported, "I have a few things to say to her as well. I hope we're pressing charges? We can't let them walk-Y/N deserves justice," he said vehemently as he opened the car door.

"Oh we're going to make them pay..then we're going to hand them over to the police," Colson laid Y/N inside and jumped in beside her.

Colson clenched and unclenched his fist as he looked out the window. Ashleigh had messed with the wrong person. He was going to deal with her personally. Her career was officially over before it even began.

"Jax, can we make a quick stop at a hospital? I need to make sure she's okay," Colson caressed Y/N's face as she lay on his lap, "plus we need to gather evidence."

"Sure thing Boss," Jax nodded.

Colson hoped and prayed that he had got there on time but Slim's pants were down and Y/N's dress was-he shook his head and blinked his eyes rapidly. He couldn't-didn't want to even think about it. His heart bled a thousand times when he thought about what he saw when they crashed through the door. He shouldn't have allowed her to go with that snake-he should have listened to his gut; trusted his instinct.

Now Y/N was a wreck and it would take a while to piece her back together again.

#machine gun kelly #colson baker #mgk #colson baker x reader #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #fan fiction

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itsadamcole · 3 years

Text

christmas lights - pt. 4

fem!reader x drew mcintyre

Drew begins to make up for the six weeks him and reader were separated by making a nice romantic dinner on Valentine's Day, which leads to some serious conversations and rekindling their marriage ...

word count: 4.5k+

warnings: mentions of cheating, slight drinking, loads of fluff, smut (because it's time that we have nice things in this mini-series)

— part 4. enjoy loves —

masterlist || request an imagine here

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

Drew's POV

"Sheamus, I need t'know what t'make Y/N for Valentine's Day," I say as I drive to the grocery store. "I wanna make a perfect dinner."

Sheamus' voice comes over the BlueTooth in my car as he says, "Bro, pasta dishes work every time. What kind of pasta dish does Y/N like?"

She likes lasagna but she also likes ravioli dishes. I could never go wrong with spaghetti because everyone loves spaghetti, plus there's always that chance at a Lady and the Tramp moment with the pasta.

I say, "I don't fucking know, dude. I know she likes a lot of different pasta dishes. Maybe I should just make peanut butter and jelly or something."

"Don't ya dare," Sheamus warns. "Y/N would get so mad."

She's at work all day and I asked for today off from work. It's literally eight in the morning and I have until four to get everything ready.

I pull into the parking lot at the grocery store as I say, "Lemme call Candice. I'm sure she knows."

"Good luck," Sheamus says before hanging up.

Then I dial Candice LeRae's number. It rings a few times before she says, "Drew, it's eight in the morning. What could you possibly want?"

I ask, "Yer Y/N's best friend. What's her favorite pasta dish?"

Candice is quiet before she says, "Lasanga casserole. Meat sauce. She loves that. Can I go back to sleep?"

"Yeah," I say. "Sorry fer waking ya."

The line goes dead and I go into the grocery store after looking up a recipe for lasagna casserole.

My goal for tonight is to reignite the flame that is mine and Y/N's marriage. We've been sleeping in separate rooms, and we've been good about it. I've only joined her in her bed once because it was storming out and she wanted me to stay with her. Other than that, we've been obeying the boundaries we set.

Separate bedrooms at night, no sex, no touching of the private parts, and no sexting when I'm away. It helps that I've been away for wrestling for most of the three weeks since we cleared the air so the separate bedrooms, no sex, and no touchy touches were easy. The no sexting, not so much. I came home yesterday to spend Valentine's Day with Y/N so maybe there can be some touchy touches tonight since I'm making dinner and it's a romantic day.

Y/N has no idea of what I have planned. Her presents will be waiting in the living room for her when she walks into the house after work. A large, life-sized teddy bear sprayed with my cologne will sit on the couch with flowers and chocolates on his lap. The house will be lit with candles.

Then we'll enjoy a candlelit dinner and dessert. The dinner will be made by me. The dessert is a cake that I ordered the other day that's sitting in the back of the refrigerator, hidden away from Y/N. We'll probably watch some cheesy romance movie since it's Valentine's Day.

I can only hope everything goes to plan, as long as I find where the damn ricotta cheese is in this store.

***

Your POV

You mope around the office all day. You'd much rather be at home with your husband than here at work. The past three weeks have gone by quickly, and you miss Drew.

He seemed okay with you coming into work today, but you requested to leave at four so you can at least be home for dinner by five. You'll probably end up ordering takeout honestly. You don't have anything big planned for tonight except ice cream and a movie.

Drew texted you a 'good morning' and 'Happy Valentine's Day' this morning around ten in the morning when he probably woke up. It made you happy and motivated you to get through the day.

The day goes by slow. A minute feels like an hour and an hour feels like an eternity as you write out this six-page report on the last meeting you had.

As soon as four hits, you say goodbye to your co-workers and grab your jacket before leaving.

It's a warm day in Florida today as you walk down to your car in the parking garage. You text Drew to say that you're on your way home before you pull out of the parking garage.

You drive home, and it's about 4:30 when you get there. Florida traffic is terrible during rush hour and you had to take the long way home instead of the quick five-minute drive because of traffic.

Drew's car hasn't moved in the driveway since you left at six this morning. You get out of your own car and walk inside. You hang your car keys up on the hook and take your jacket off. You kick off your shoes and walk into the living room with a sigh.

You freeze where you stand when you see what's sitting on the couch when you walk into the room. On the couch sits a teddy bear, flowers, and chocolates. You smile widely at the sight before walking over.

There's a note on the couch next to the teddy bear that's folded with your name on it. You giggle and unfold it, reading it to yourself.

Happy Valentine's Day, my love. If the house is still standing when you see this then come check the dining room.

Smiling, you walk into the dining room. Candles light the room and Drew dressed up in a suit stands beside the food filled table. Lasagna casserole with meat sauce, a bowl of meatballs and sauce, and breadsticks sit on the table. There's a bucket with champagne and ice next to the food. The candles are in the middle of the table and all the food.

You gasp and say, "Drew! This is amazing! I feel so underdressed for this dinner."

Your husband greets you with a forehead kiss before he says, "There's time for ya t'get changed if ya want. I just took the food out of the oven so it'll still be warm when ya come back down."

Giggling, you say, "I need five minutes to change then I'll be right back."

"Take yer time, love," Drew says, a smile on his lips.

You quickly run up the stairs. You certainly weren't expecting Drew to go all out today, not after the last few months. He did, though, and it's making you fall more in love with the Scotsman.

Quickly, you strip out of your drab office clothes and get into the white dress you wore on your first date with Finn, almost nine years ago.

The top of the dress is lacy with thin spaghetti straps. The v-neck dips low but doesn't reveal a lot. The skirt is ruffled and has two layers, one short and the second layer reaches about halfway down your thighs. You wear a pair of silver heels to go with the dress. The heels are a light silver color. You brush out your naturally waving hair and walk downstairs.

Drew's face immediately lights up with a smile when he sees you. "Wow," he says. "Still as beautiful as ya were on our first date."

As he pulls out your chair, you say, "So you did remember that I wore this dress on our first date."

"How could I not?" he asks, pushing your chair in when you're sitting in it. "Ya were stunning and I was extremely nervous."

Laughing, you help yourself to some lasagna casserole and meatballs. You grab a breadstick.

Drew takes his serving as he says, "So, I physically made the lasagna casserole and meatballs. I bought the breadsticks as well as the cake that's in the fridge."

"There's a cake in the fridge?" you ask, looking up at Drew.

He smiles and says, "Uh, surprise? I wanted t'go all out today. I know how much ya love Valentine's Day and I definitely wanted t'make sure today was yer day."

You smile and take a bite of the lasagna. "Well, thank you, Drew," you say. "This is amazing and I don't think I deserve it."

Your husband says, "Ya deserve it, Y/N. Ya one hundred percent deserve it."

The two of you make small talk as you eat the dinner that Drew made. You ask him how he got all this together today.

"I bought the ingredients today and started making dinner by like nine in the morning," he explains to you. "I texted ya at ten so ya thought I just woke up because that's when I usually wake up. I didn't want ya thinking something was off with me waking up early."

You laugh as you eat the meal Drew prepared.

He asks you how your day at work went.

"Well, Tom had me write a whole report on our meeting about finances the other day," you tell him. "Six pages due before I left. This feels like he's punishing me for calling our indefinitely while we were separated."

Drew frowns and says, "I'm sorry. I know how hard ya work, and that's another reason I went all out for dinner."

The comment makes you smile.

After you're both done eating, Drew puts the leftovers in containers before putting them in the refrigerator. He washes the dishes and you sit at the kitchen island counter, watching him.

He's trying to make up for the six weeks you two were apart. You can tell because Drew McIntyre never cooks or does the dishes.

Drew hums quietly to himself as you watch him do the dishes. Your head is in your hands and you smile at the sight.

"So, what flavor is this cake?" you ask, curious.

Your husband laughs softly and says, "Vanilla and chocolate swirl with buttercream icing. I know that's yer favorite because that was the flavor of our wedding cake."

The fact that he's remembering the slightest details from your first date and from your wedding day makes you so happy. He's incorporating these things into making this Valentine's Day the best one yet, and that's the thing you love most about Drew.

As Drew finishes up doing the dishes, you get up and walk over to him. Slowly, you wrap your arms around his waist from behind him and you look up at him. Even with two-inch heels on, Drew is still about eight inches taller than you.

"Thank you for dinner," you say. "It means so much to me that you did this."

He turns the water off and dries his hands before he turns around in your arms. Drew looks down at you and smiles as he says, "I hope ya enjoyed yer presents in the living room."

You giggle, "I'll definitely be putting that teddy bear to use while you're on the road. As for the flowers and chocolates, thank you."

Your husband pushes your hair out of your face and he says, "Yer welcome, love."

Drew's hand lingers on your cheek a little longer than it probably should but you don't mind. As a matter of fact, you lean into his gentle touch so he knows it's okay.

It's been a while since he's touched you like this and you want to enjoy it.

"How about that cake?" Drew suggests. "I know yer just dying t'dig into that."

You giggle and let Drew go so he can get the cake out. "You definitely know me better than I know myself," you say, watching him take the cake out of the refrigerator and put it on the counter.

Drew cuts a piece for you and a piece for himself before he takes your hand and walks out into the living room. The couch is big enough for you, Drew, and the human-sized teddy bear so the two of you sit beside each other on the couch.

Your husband pulls up Netflix and turns on your favorite romance movie, After. Of course, Drew sits through After We Collided as well. He knows these are your favorite romance movies, and he knows how much you adore Hardin Scott's character. You do have a thing for accents.

Then you put on Drew's favorite romance movie, A Star Is Born. You're both a fan of this movie, and you both sing Shallow extremely off-key.

It's about one in the morning when you're done watching all three movies. The two After movies were about three and a half hours combined then A Star Is Born is just over two hours long, and you started watching the movies at about seven that night.

You're cuddled against Drew as he turns off Netflix. He looks down at you and asks, "Ya tired, love?"

Shaking your head, you say, "Nope. Are you?"

Drew shakes his head and says, "No."

You sigh and take his hand in yours, playing with his fingers. "We could, um, talk," you suggest. "About everything to see what we're both thinking."

Your husband says, "Okay. Tell me what's on yer mind."

Sighing, you meet Drew's eyes as you say, "I, uh, miss falling asleep in your arms and waking up beside you, like when your home and stuff." You continue playing with his fingers.

"Do ya want me back in our bedroom?" Drew asks slowly. "Or even just a few times a week? It doesn't have t'be every night if ya don't want."

Drew looks at you intently before you say, "When you're home, I'd like to sleep in the same bed as you. I feel like three weeks is long enough for you to be in a separate bedroom."

A small smile forms on Drew's lips as he says, "Then I'll sleep in our bed again if that's what ya want."

Nodding, you say, "That's what I want. Is that what you want?"

You don't understand why this is kind of awkward. You're just asking your husband to start sleeping in your shared bed again.

"It's what I want," Drew states. "Since we're on the topic of, uh, the boundaries we talked about. Since we're sleeping in the same bed again, do the no touching and no sex boundaries apply?"

You didn't think about that when you asked Drew to sleep in bed with you again.

Sighing and still playing with Drew's fingers, you say, "If the opportunity to have sex arises then I won't stop it. It's been a while since we've been, um, intimate with each other so I wouldn't mind."

Drew smiles as your face gets a little flustered. You've never been good at talking about sex, and it gets you all hot sometimes, like right now.

He pulls his fingers away from you and you pout. Drew says, "So we're basically saying no more boundaries." It wasn't formed like a question.

"Well I'm not saying we get naked right here on the couch and have sex right now," you say, suppressing a giggle. "But technically, yes. We're saying no more boundaries."

A sigh of relief leaves Drew's lips as he says, "Thank God because sleeping in the guest room is torture knowing ya're just down the hall."

You laugh and look up at Drew. You turn your body so you're facing him more. A smile lights up Drew's face.

He's happy that there aren't boundaries anymore. You never called them rules because rules are always tempting to break, and you wanted to make sure to move slow instead of rushing into your relationship like it was before Christmas.

Both of you are quiet before you say, "Thank you for respecting my wishes while we worked on our marriage, Drew. It shows me that you wanted to work on it too."

Drew says, "I woulda moved out if ya told me to. I wanted to do this right." He pushes a stray hair off your cheek. "If fixing our relationship while spending some time apart is what helps us in the end then I'm happy t'do it."

A smile forms on your face as you say, "I love you. Thank you for sticking around even though I've been difficult."

Your husband says, "And I love ya. I would do anything fer ya, Y/N. Ya know this."

"I do know this," you say as you lean your head up a bit, wanting a kiss.

Drew gets what you're trying to say and he slowly leans into you, his lips ghosting over yours lightly. A soft gasp leaves your lips as your heart races in your chest.

While you slept in separate bedrooms and didn't see much of each other, kisses between you and Drew were rare. Every kiss felt like the first kiss you ever had with him. This one especially feels like that.

Your eyes flutter closed as Drew finally presses a soft kiss to your lips. Butterflies form in your stomach as your lips move against Drew's. One of his hands rests on your waist and one of your hands is on the side of his neck.

The kiss slowly becomes more intense as Drew begins to kiss you with more passion. You welcome the passionate kiss as Drew's hand migrates from your waist to your back. He presses you against him as you throw one of your legs over one of his so you're closer to your husband.

In between kisses, Drew asks, "Are ya still not tired?"

You shake your head slightly and say, "No. You?"

"No," he replies. "Wide awake."

This moment has been building for a while. It started almost as he came back home. Now that it's started, you don't want it to stop.

The kiss intensifies more when Drew's tongue swipes across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You part your lips a bit and his tongue finds its way into your mouth. You sigh softly as the kiss turns into a make out session.

Drew's hands are both now on the small of your back as you now cup his face in your hands. Sighs leave both yours and Drew's lips, especially after you crawl onto his lap. You straddle his thighs to make it easier to kiss him.

You pull back, needing a second to breathe. You pant, "We lift all boundaries and now we're making out on the couch."

Your husband laughs and leaves soft kisses all over your face. "Is there something wrong with making out on the couch?" he asks, smiling.

"No," you giggle. "But have you met us? Making out usually turns into something more."

His kisses leave your face and migrate down to your jaw. He mumbles, "Would that be a bad thing though? It's been a long time since we've done anything. At least four months."

You sigh, "We just lifted the boundaries. It would be terrible timing."

Drew smiles as he kisses your neck before he says, "I've missed ya like this, Y/N. I've missed us like this."

It has been a long time since either of you have been intimate with each other.

"I've missed you like this too, Drew," you say, melting under his touch. "And it has been a long time since we've been like this. I don't care how bad the timing is anymore."

Your husband looks up at you and asks, "So, are we having sex tonight?"

Giggling, you say, "As long as we take it upstairs because I don't want to make a mess on the teddy bear."

"Done," is all Drew says before he scoops you up into his arms and takes you upstairs to your shared bedroom. He holds you bridal style in his arms as he walks up the stairs.

You leave kisses on his cheek and neck as he walks with you to the bedroom.

He walks into the bedroom and puts you down at the foot of the bed. You lean up and kiss him passionately. You hook your fingers into the belt loop of his suit pants and pull him against you.

Honestly, you don't hate the idea of having sex with Drew tonight. It's been so long since you have. You miss being intimate with him.

Slowly, you pull off Drew's jacket and let it fall to the floor. He undoes his tie, and all of this as his tongue finds its way into your mouth again. You sigh softly and your fingers begin to unbutton Drew's shirt after you untuck it from his pants.

His hands are on your back, near the zipper of the dress.

You pull his shirt off and it joins the jacket and now the tie on the floor. Drew unzips your dress and you pull the straps off your shoulders. The dress falls to the floor and pools at your feet, leaving you in only your panties.

Your fingers slide down Drew's chest as the kiss continues. You run your fingers down his stomach until they reach the button on his pants.

Both of you kick off your shoes before Drew pushes you onto your back on the bed, breaking the kiss. You move back a bit and watch as he pulls off his suit pants, leaving him in his boxer shorts.

"Ya have no idea how long I've waited just t'see ya and touch ya like this again," Drew tells you as he crawls up to you, kneeling between your legs.

You cup his face in your hands and say, "I've waited just as long as you have, Drew."

He smiles at you as his eyes roam your exposed upper body. You lay on your back and Drew leans down, kissing your chest down to your breasts. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking gently as his fingers play with the other. You gasp and sigh, arching your back slightly off the bed. You grasp onto the covers as Drew continues down your body, kissing down your belly until he gets to the waistband of your panties.

Drew looks up at you and asks, "May I?"

You nod, eager. He pulls off the panties you're wearing, and you may or may not be just a tiny bit wet. Hearing Drew talk about how much he's been waiting for this and wanting this has made you a little wet.

He bites his lip before diving in. Your back arches off the bed and you moan, "Drew." Your fingers find their way into his hair as his tongue swirls around your clit.

Your breathing soon becomes labored as Drew kisses and sucks on your core. He slips a finger into you and you moan a little louder.

It's been way too long since you've been with Drew like this, and you don't plan on ever going four months without sex ever again.

Drew's finger moves slowly and your back arches off the mattress. Your eyes are closed as your sense of touch takes over. Drew sucks on your clit and adds a second finger.

"Drew," you moan out. "Baby, please."

He looks up at you and asks, "'Please' what, love?"

You open your eyes and look at your husband as he licks your arousal off his lips. "I need you," you whine. "Please."

Drew pulls his fingers out of you and you let out a little whine. He pulls off his boxers and reaches over onto the bedside table to grab a condom out of the box that's in the drawer.

He's on his knees between your legs as he slides the contents of the tiny silver package he pulled out of the drawer onto himself. You watch as he crawls on top of you. You lean up and kiss Drew softly, pulling him down to you. His chest is pressed to yours and you wrap your legs around Drew's waist.

After a second, Drew pulls back and asks, "Is this what ya really want? I don't want t'continue if this isn't what ya want."

You push Drew's hair behind his ears and say, "I want this Drew. I've wanted this for months. I want this to happen."

A smile forms on Drew's lips as he kisses you again. You feel the tip of his member run through your folds and you sigh softly against his lips. Your hands are in his hair, gripping lightly as Drew begins to slide into you.

Moans pass through your lips into the kiss as Drew's length fills you up. Drew holds himself up above you as he begins to thrust slowly into you. Moans escape your lips as Drew moves.

Drew leaves kisses on your neck as he moves sweetly and passionately.

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping and your moans. Drew leaves marks on your neck and his thrusts begin to speed up.

"Oh, Drew," you moan softly. "Don't stop, please."

Your husband smirks against the skin on your neck and moves deeper into you. His tip grazes your g-spot and you cry out in pleasure.

He knows how to make you feel good. It's almost like he hasn't missed a beat since the last time you had sex.

Drew grunts above you as he begins to hit your g-spot over and over again. Your nails are digging into Drew's back as he moves.

Your husband takes one of your hands in his as he moves. He kisses you again.

You don't say anything before you orgasm. You release on Drew's member and he soon follows. Both of you moan each other's names and a bunch of profanities as you both come.

Drew pulls out and rolls off of you, pulling off the condom and tying it off before throwing it out. You crawl under the covers after Drew cleans you both up, a smile on your lips.

He joins you under the covers as you both catch your breath. You look up at your husband and say, "You have a lot to live up to next Valentine's Day."

"I think I already know what I can do," Drew says, leaning in and pecking your lips. You giggle and intertwine your fingers with his as you move onto your side so you're facing him.

Drew moves himself close to you and cups your face, looking at you. Your eyes meet his and you say, "I love you so much."

Your husband says, "I love ya more." A smile forms on his lips as you bury your face into his neck, closing your eyes.

You almost lost this. You almost lost laying in his arms at night when you were feeling upset or just to snuggle after sex. You almost lost him, and you're so glad that you heard him out. You didn't just let him go, because you love him and wanted to work on your relationship.

—

tags: @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

#drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre smut #drew mcintyre fluff #drew mcintyre x reader #wrestling imagine #wrestling fluff #wrestling smut #wwe imagine #wwe fluff #wwe smut #imagines #imagine #nswf imagine #smut #fluff imagine #fluff

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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

Text

i. biting down ✤ herald au

john/elliot + “he/she can’t make you feel the way i make you feel” set in pre-fc5 events herald!elliot au, like it can’t get anymore complicated i am SORRY

words: 1.2k

warnings: some SPICE, just a lil, mostly like. naughty words they’re saying in a room full of people. also jealous!elliot maybe should get her own warning i’m SORRY these two are in pUBLIC AND THEY NEED TO STOP

There are very few things in the world that make Elliot Honeysett-Seed jealous. In fact, there are so few that she can’t even count them on one hand—they don’t exist. The realm in which she would find herself feeling jealous or possessive over her husband is so slim, barely slipped between the veils of other realms that she doesn’t even walk, that she thinks maybe she’s never felt jealous in her entire life.

But something strange has happened: they’re at a party, celebrating the new offices he and Isolde had moved into, and there are a lot of women.

This isn’t normally a problem. Elliot likes eye-candy, and John knows this. But it seems odd, doesn’t it, she thinks, watching John greet a group of them, sparsely integrated with a few three-piece suits, that he knows so many of them?

She’s not jealous. She can’t be. John is incredibly loyal to her, and they had literally just barely made it here because they’d been too busy with each other, and maybe he fucked every single woman in this room, and—

Oh, she thinks idly, when a spike of hot, angry emotion rushes straight up her spine. Maybe he did.

And then: I don’t like that at all.

John says something, and they titter, and she’s sure it’s very funny—her husband is practically a comedian, after all—and she sips her drink. She wonders if Isolde has invited all of these women for a particular reason, or if John has invited them for a particular reason, and what those reasons might be. She likes Isolde. Even if she’s in bed with the walking God-complex. So what gives?

“Penny for your thoughts?” John asks, having sidled up behind her. She’d been so engrossed in her thoughts, stewing, that she’d barely noticed him making a break for it and escaping the clutches of what is surely engrossing conversation.

Elliot brings the glass up to her mouth and takes a long drink, swallowing a mouthful of champagne even though it’s certainly not the way it’s intended to be had. Isolde does not buy champagne that gets gulped.

Her husband prompts, “Ah, more expensive thoughts, then?”

“How many of these women have you fucked?” Elliot poses the question lightly, as though it were nothing, as though this were not a business function but rather the comfort of their own home. It shouldn’t matter (and it doesn’t, it doesn’t matter,) but now the question has fixed itself in her brain and is running a track over and over again.

John slides an arm around her waist, nosing past her hair. “Hellcat.”

“John,” she replies, mimicking his cloying tone.

“Are you jealous, baby?”

“How many?” Elliot prompts again, turning in his arm to look at him now. But John’s grip doesn’t loosen, and she thinks a lesser man might have crumbled immediately, tried to come up with some story about how many of them he knows and that he’s just a friendly guy, that’s all.

“A few,” John admits, which could be anywhere from a handful to fifty, knowing him.

And then, unwilling to let go: “Are you jealous?”

She drags the pad of her thumb along the rim of her glass before she sets it aside on the nearby table. “No, honey,” she says innocently, liking the way his eyes are drawn to her mouth when she sucks the dredges of the champagne from it. “What do I have to be jealous about?”

It’s not true. She is jealous. But more than that, she’s covetous, and she thinks that the latter might be worse than the former; only by a little. But at least when she covets, she feels good, because John’s eyes darken when she winds his tie around her hand and she can feel eyes on them.

“Plenty,” he rumbles, voice low. “Plenty to be a little jealous about.”

“It’s a sin,” she intones dutifully. “For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice, and so on and so forth.”

John leans in close. She can tell that he wants her to be jealous; he wants to feel the sting of her reprimand, for entertaining women he’s fucked without her, women that still want him. But Elliot is nothing if not a reasonable, practical woman, and to act on such insecurity, she thinks, would be something close to hysteria.

“If I tell you an exact number,” he says, hands coming to her hips, “will you be jealous then?”

Elliot arches a brow loftily. Gotcha, she thinks, and it does feel good—a momentary lapse of control, but it’s good, now. She’s got it all perfectly where she wants it.

“Maybe. But every night, my sweet husband—” She tugs on the tie, pulling him down until their noses brush. “—you come home to me and you say, oh, Elliot, please let me fuck you, I've been so good. Isn't that right?”

"Yes," he says a little breathlessly, instinctively. He leans into her as she beckons him, no space between their bodies, nudging her legs apart to slide his thigh between them, and it’s easy to forget they’re in a public place—maybe the lighting is a little dim and ambient, and maybe they’re in a nice little corner by themselves, but still. "I do, just for you."

She murmurs, “They can’t make you feel the way I do.”

John makes a noise. It pitches low trapped right between them, and she supposes for a second that she might be fine if they did this right here, in a room full of people—if she really wanted to.

But she doesn’t.

“John?” she prompts, expectantly.

“You’re right,” he says. The expression is automatic, ingrained in him, a surefire way to get what he wants from her—he’s learned quickly, this husband of hers, the ways straight to her heart. You’re right sits at the very top. He grins, flashing his teeth at her, and leans in for a kiss. “I like when you get a little vicious—”

“I know,” Elliot replies, tilting her face just out of his reach. Her eyes narrow. “So who invited them?”

“Oh, Ell.” John sighs. “Does it really matter?”

“I’ve never asked you a question that didn’t matter.”

The brunette leans in and kisses the corner of her mouth, because this time she lets him; he cards his fingers through her hair, kisses the slope of her jaw, the hollow just beneath it, humming into her skin.

“Isolde.” He noses the spot just below her ear. “But it’s because she’s tired of them asking about me when I’m gone, and she knew you’d do this.”

“Do what?”

She feels him grin against the slope of her neck. “Mark your territory.”

“Fuck you,” she idles, but she feels a little pleased. It’s nice, to be recognized. To have someone know you well enough to predict something you’d do. Most people find it insulting, or frustrating, but in this instance, she finds it endearing.

Pulling away from John, she picks up her champagne glass, smoothing out his tie. What a fine man, this husband of hers—with a cloud of lovers trailing after him, and all hers, anyway. She’s not so prone to jealousy; it’s because in moments like this, she thinks, that’s mine, and look at how wanted he is.

“Well, it wasn’t necessary, anyway,” Elliot says, reaching up and thumbing a bruise welling on his neck, a remnant of their previous activity that John must have missed when he was hurrying to get ready. “You’ve been walking around with my mark the whole party.”

#cleaning house repost #john seed/female deputy #far cry 5 #fc5 fic #otp: everything in me is treacherous #herald!elliot #far cry 5 fic #my writing #fc5 oc #far cry 5 oc #john seed/original female character #q

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phoenixhalliwell · 4 years

Text

Well Helloooo Nurse

Pairings: Will Miller X Gender Neutral Reader ( Nurse Lark but goes by the name of Birdie)

Word count: 1887

Author's Note: Good Evening all, welcome to the Will Miller show. Please be gentle as it’s my first time writing for him. I also have no idea how the inside of an ER works, i’m just winging this whole thing lmao I hope whoever stumbles on this enjoys it :)

Hope you don’t mind the tags: @lilacyennefer @cinewhore @dignityneeded

Thanks to his idiotic brother, Will ends up in the ER. Benny in an attempt to make amends, tries to be his wingman.

Throwing yourself down into your chair, you let out a small cry at the relief at finally being off your feet. To say it's been a long week is an understatement. Your back is in agony, your stomach won't stop growling and there's a throbbing pain behind your eyes . The ER has finally quietened down after a disastrous morning and you're counting down the minutes until it's home time.

'Is it just me or is time moving slower?'

You glance at the clock. Another 20 minutes and you are free for the next two days to do absolutely nothing. Closing your eyes you smile at the thought of the large glass of wine, warm bath and take out that awaits you when you get home. Your happiness is short lived though when you hear your name being called out.

'Urghhh, just leave me alone'

"Birdie, my good friend. How are you? You are looking fiiinnneee today, is that a new pair of scrubs."

Opening your eyes, you glare at your friend Letti who is currently batting her eyes at you. You scoff. You know for a fact you look like shit. Your hair looks like a bird's nest ( no pun intended) and you're pretty sure that your scrubs have seen better days.

"What do you want?" you narrow your eyes at her.

"You know how you're my absolute best friend and you love me so much? Could you find it in that golden heart of yours to stay on just a little longer and cover the end of my shift. It's only a couple extra hours. I wouldn't normally ask but Scott has managed to ship the kids off to his mum's tonight and it's been so long since we've had adult time, if you catch my drift. Please. Help me out here Birdie I am dying" She begs.

'Pfft least you're getting the option for adult time' you think to yourself. You watch as she clasps her hands to her chest and starts to give you the sad puppy dog eyes .You can feel your resolve start to crumble. Groaning, you throw your head back in defeat.

"Fine, but you owe me one and you better believe I will collect" you sigh. Letti fist pumps the air before grabbing your face and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I fucking love you Birdie. I will name my next child in your honour" she promises.

"Yeah like I haven't heard that before" you snort, wiping your cheek. Letti suddenly thrusts a clipboard into your hand before rushing you through your next patient, eager to get home to her husband. You're not really listening to her, nodding along every so often as you try to decipher the chicken scratches on the paper in front of you.

' Did a child fill in this form?'

You hear snippets of what she is saying: "Hotter than sin..... If I wasn't married... wouldn't be able to walk straight"

You are finally able to pick out the important information:

Exam Room 3 - William Miller, 40, laceration to left arm.

'Ok I can work with that'

Calling out your goodbyes to Letti and telling her to have a good time, you make your way to exam room 3 to get started. Drawing back the curtain, you step into the room and call out

'Mr Miller?'

"Yes?" two voices answer at the same time.

" They are talking about me Dumbass, I'm the one that's currently bleeding no thanks to you. Please excuse my brother, he was dropped on his head a lot as a child" your patient apologises to you. You let out a snort at the quip. It's not until you get a proper look at his face that your laughter is quickly cut off.

'Oh' is all you can think before your mind goes blank. Sitting in front of you is a man you can only describe as an Adonis. Even though his face is twisted slightly in pain, you would gladly stare at him for the rest of eternity. Beautiful blue eyes, soft blond hair, a well groomed beard. Your mind takes you to some bad places when you think about that beard.

'Hotter than sin indeed...."

A choked out laugh causes you to tear gaze away from William and over to the other man in the room who waves at you looking far too amused.

'Oh god, he knows I was checking out his brother' You cringe internally.

"Hi I'm Benny in case you were interested" the other man jokes. He is also a fairly attractive man -you can see some similarities between the two. However, Benny has nothing on his brother. You shyly nod your head in greeting before making your way to Will's bedside.

"Ok Mr Miller, I am Nurse Lark. From what I could make out from your form, it says that you have a laceration on your left arm. Is this correct?" you ask the older Miller.

"Yes that's right. Sorry about the scrawl, Benny didn't make it past the 3rd grade." Will teases.

"Fuck you dickhead" Benny hisses back.

"Boys, settle down, this is an ER not a playground " you interject. Both men mumble their apologise and you try not to laugh. Gently picking up Will's arm, you turn his arm left to right to get an idea of the extent of his injury. He's lucky in the fact it's not too deep. Unfortunately it cuts directly through the tattoo on his lower arm. Potentially a future scar but that was out with your control. Raising your head, you notice how close you are to each other's faces. Will stares back at you and you lose yourself for a minute.

"For fuck sake, get a room" You hear Benny mutter behind you. You cough and busy yourself getting the equipment you need to start patching Will up.

"I'm sorry but this might hurt a little" you warn him in advance.

" Don't worry about me, I'm tough as nails " He smiles reassuring you.

You nod before getting started. So focused on your work, you didn't notice Will admiring you from where he sat. He liked the way your eyes never wavered from your task despite Benny blabbering on in the background. How your nimble fingers made quick work of his wound. He thought the way you stuck your tongue out slightly in concentration was the cutest thing.

Benny was quick to notice his brother's heart eyes and started snickering.

" You know what Will? Maybe if you're a good boy the nice nurse will kiss it better once they are done"

You glance up in time to see Will's face turn scarlet.

'Just when I thought he couldn't get any cuter'

"That's it, Benny get out now!" Will growled.

Benny sighs dramatically and sulks out the room but not without muttering "just trying to help you get laid dickhead". You glance back at Will who is now staring up at the ceiling, looking as though he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"It's days like these I really wish my parents had got me a puppy instead of a little brother"

"Well from what I've seen of him so far, the man is basically a gold retriever in human form" you joke back. The laugh he lets out catches you off guard.

'I could get used to that sound.'

You had to stop yourself from sighing and scolded yourself for acting like a love sick fool instead of the professional you are.

The conversation came easy for you both after that. You started by telling him your name before the both of you shared little tidbits about each other. Will seemed like an interesting man from what information he gave. He was funny and incredibly smart.

'He's perfect' is all you could think. However, it didn't take long after Benny got asked to leave to finish patching the rest of Will's arm up.

"Well Mr Miller, I guess that's you done. Please make sure to keep the area as clean as possible and have someone help you change your bandages"

You feel sad at the idea of him leaving. It is evident that he feels the same by the way he stalls collecting his things. He looks like he's debating with himself before he finally turns to you looking determined.

" Would you maybe like to go to dinner with me sometime? I know we haven't met under the best circumstances but I had a really great time talking with you. I'd end up hating myself if I didn't at least ask"

Your heart races at the question and you don't hesitate to tell him yes. His face lights up and you find yourself falling a little more for Will Miller. Grabbing a pen from your top pocket, you hastily write down your phone number and hand it to Will. You both wish each other goodnight before parting ways. You find yourself grinning and bite your lip to try and contain your glee.

" Guess I will be naming my first child Letti"

Outside the hospital

Benny leans against the wall (pouting like a child) and waits for his brother . He still can't believe he got thrown out of the room. It feels like forever and a day before Will finally makes his appearance with a smug grin on his face.

'He looks like the cat that got the cream'

' What's with the grin man? Did they give you the good shit for the pain or something?"

Will shakes his head before showing Benny the piece of paper in his hand. A set of digits.

"William, you sly dog" Benny laughs in delight before he slaps Will's arm. He's quick to realise his mistake when his brother grunts in pain clutching his bad arm. Benny panics and makes to touch him but is stopped in his tracks.

"Don't . Fucking . Touch me. Just get in the fucking car. " Will hisses. He marches off to the car park, swearing under his breath.

'Well that victory was short lived' Benny thinks, following his brother.

Bonus Scene - Date night

'Is it just me or is time moving slower?'

You glance at the clock for what feels like the millionth time. Another 10 minutes before Will is suppose to arrive. It's been so long since you were last on a date and you can't remember being this nervous. You look down at your outfit and run a hand over it to make sure there wasn't any creases. Will had text earlier to let you know to dress casual for your evening out but wouldn't give you any more information. The sound of the doorbell interrupts your thoughts and you let out a nervous giggle. Trying not to seem too eager, you give yourself a beat before opening the door. You feel yourself go weak in the knees. Will is dressed to impress - A black leather jacket over a soft grey t-shirt with a nice pair of black jeans that does wonders for him. He lets out a soft laugh at the way you are blatantly eyeing him up before doing the same to you. He lets out a low whistle.

"Well hellooo nurse"

#Will Miller #william ironhead miller #will miller x reader #Triple Frontier #Benny Miller #ben miller #william ironhead miller x reader #hello nurse

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renee-writer · 4 years

Text

Hitman Chapter 7 A Date?

The next morning, he exits the lift to find Claire sitting in his waiting room.

‘’Good morning Mr. Fraser.’’ She stands when he walks in.

‘’Good morning Miss Beauchamp. How may I help you?’’ He hopes treating her like any other person who comes in his office and not like the lass that haunted his dreams, would cover what she is doing to him.

‘’I thought I would save you the postage and just pick up Frank's, or should I say Uncle Lamb’s book, as I have discovered that Frank stole the research from him. I wish to return it to him.’’

‘’Of course,’’ he leads her back into his office, ‘’ in that case I wouldn’t publish anyway. I've high standards.’’ He invites her to sit. ‘’Can I get you anything?’’

‘’A coffee please.’’ He nods and rings for his assistant, ‘’ Milk and sugar.’’ His assistant enters and he hands him a five pound note.

‘’Go get Miss Beauchamp a cup of coffee with milk and brown sugar.’’ He nods and heads out. ‘’So Miss, err Claire, Frank stole your Uncle’s research?’’

‘’Yes, Uncle Lamb, gave Frank some of his research to look over but he used it without crediting him. He just used it as his own.’’

Jamie’s assistant came in and handed Claire the coffee. They continue the conversation and she tells him he wasn’t only cheating with the book. She tells him about discovering his many girlfriends. Jamie is careful too keep his face a mask. He knew all this. It was part of the reason the bloke had to die. But she is just finding out.

‘’And, a strange thing happened that night, the call wasn’t from the hospital. I stayed because they got busy. Oh, I need to apologize to you Jamie. I wasn’t at my best the first day we meet. Frank had forced me to come along. I didn’t wish to, nothing against you, I just don’t like to be forced into things.’’

‘’I understand. Don’t worry about it. I knew something was wrong but it wasn’t my place to inquire about it.’’

‘’You are a true gentleman. Unlike, ‘’ she sighs and fingers the manuscript he had handed back to her. ‘’well, I must be off. Thank you for the coffee and for listening.’’ She stands up to leave and he stands with her, habits his parents had long instilled coming back in her presence.

‘’Claire, when will you be back?’’ He knows she is heading to Oxford to return her uncle’s work.

‘’In two days, but then working until the weekend, why?’’

‘’I just thought you might want to see the rights of London with me.’’

‘’That would be lovely. I really haven't taken the time with everything else going on.’’ She gives him her number and he walks her to the lift. ‘Thanks for everything Jamie.’’ He stands and watch’s the numbers count down to the ground floor before walking back into his office. Why had he did that, asking her out. He doesn’t take women out. He just pays to take them as a brute when he has need. Shaking his head at himself, he enters her number in his phone. Later in the day, he text her and made sure she had made it to Oxford okay. She had and thanks him again.

Later he looks on the dark web for any other jobs. Oh, that is interesting. He was being hired to take out himself! Hired by his crazy stalker. Well, that will never do. He copies the information, removing any trace of where it came from and sends it to the Yard. The next day he finds out she had been arrested. His sister calls in a panic.

‘’Jamie, oh God, I didn’t know she was that crazy! Are you alright lad?’’

‘’I am fine,, Dinna fash. You couldn’t have ken'd. She is locked safely away now.’’ He reassures her even as he thinks of the lass his heart yearns for. It makes no sense but even as he talks to Jenny, he is texting Claire to make sure she is okay. His relief at her, ‘ yes. Home now. See you this weekend.’ Is more then he feels for his own safety. It is crazy. He is a killer, the killer of her husband.

That Saturday, they meet at the London Eye. They walk towards Waterloo bridge and the Convent garden and some bistro's Jamie knew there. It is close enough to the hospital that if she gets called in, she can easily head back.

‘Do you like living in London?’’ He asks after they are seated. It is a bit cold to be seating outside but it is so pretty.

‘’Yes and no. I lived in Oxford before Frank and I meet,’’ she runs her hand over her left hand, bare now where her wedding ring used to be, ‘’we then moved to Boston. But, after his death, well I needed to be near family. Uncle Lamb helped me see, or is helping me see that Frank's death wasn’t my fault.’’

He is shocked that she would blame herself. ‘’Why would you think it was?’’

‘’I am a doctor Jamie. A doctor and my husband passes of a coronary and I am not there to help.’’

‘’You were at the hospital, aye?’’

‘’Yes just.. The police checked, especially with his parents deaths. Yes. I was. I found out about his adultery later. It wasn’t a motive. We weren’t fully happy. He would say I was working to much. Wanted to start a family. Oh, and then I find out he already has. One of his mistresses is expecting.’’ She starts to cry as she continue, ‘’ I was embarrassed, the wronged women everyone was whispering about. I needed to be where people didn’t know me.’’ Her tears are freely falling now. Jamie feels helpless. He longs to comfort her but taking her in his arms would be his undoing.

‘’Dinna cry lass.’’ He softly says. ,’’He was in the wrong not you.’’ She pulls herself together and her phone rings. A deep breath and a wiping of her eyes before she answers.

‘’Yes. I see. I will be right there.’’ She rings off. ‘’I am sorry but I must go.’’

‘’I will see you to a cab. Text me later if you wish.’’

‘’I will. You are a wonderful listener Jamie.’’

He places her in a cab and pays the driver. He then stands routed to the spot watching her ride off. Now what? He is uncomfortable. He feels strange, at lose ends. He, when he has felt this needy, he knew how to handle it. But the thought of another woman made him feel a bit nauseous. He hurries back to his flat and changes into workout clothes. He runs to the gym and has a brutal workout. He is trying and failing to exercise her out of his brain.

She is beautiful, smart, and sassy. Vulnerable and needy. He is the darkness that should stay away from her light. But he is drawn to it like a moth to the flame. Now what? He has never been here before. He wants her and can’t take her. She is a new widow and he is such bad news.

His phone binged with a text message alert.

‘’I am off. Would you like some dinner with me. I will cook.’’

The smart thing to do would be to run the opposite direction but. ‘Can I bring anything?’

‘Whisky and wine.’

That he can do. A bottle of Fraser's special and a good bottle of wine from his uncle's collection. A shower and shave and he heads to her house.

She comes to the door with a huge smile. It lights up his world. Christ, he is in trouble.

‘’Hello there. Come in.’’ he follows her in. Her home is simple but elegant. Her. He knows what their Boston home looked like from photos he found on the dark web. This was lighter with more her. ‘’Let me get you oriented. Bedrooms upstairs,’’ she says as she places the bottles he had handed her on the counter, ‘’ there is a bathroom on this floor.’’

‘’You have a big home.’’

‘’Well, my uncle and his wife have a 10 year old son, Fergus. I wanted him to have room and space here. He will be coming up next weekend to see the sights. I will take him to winter wonderland.’’

‘’I would be happy to come with you, to keep you and the lad safe.’’ He offers before he thinks. She laughs and he feels it soul deep. That laugh! He knows he would do anything to hear it again.

‘’He is ten and has a ton of energy. Another adult would help.’’

A timer rang in the kitchen and he follows her that direction. She pulls out a roast with potatoes and carrots.

‘’Wow! You made that?’’ She laughs again. She is determined to kill him.

‘’No. My housekeeper did. But, I did cook it. She worries that I don't eat enough.’’

‘’Do you?’’ She shrugs

‘’Come, let's eat and talk.’’

She tells him she had been working hard to keep her marriage and career together. That since his death she had slowed down.

‘’Still a surgeon but went from trauma surgery to consultant in general surgery. Less insane hours. I hardly every have to work weekends now. The irony is Frank would be pleased.’’

He tells her about the publishing world. That it wasn’t near as glamorous as it seems. ‘’A lot of reading bad manuscripts. Oh, there was one about a woman traveling through time to meet the love of her life.’’

That giggle again. ‘’Did you publish it?’’

‘’Nae it wouldn’t have sold.’’

The clean up together after they meal. ‘’I will get some glasses for the whisky.’’

‘’I pray you like it. It is from Lallybroch, my family's estate. It isn’t on the market. Made by my da for our family.’’

‘’Oh nice.’’

They take seats on her couch. Jamie is careful to seat far away from her as the couch allows. But as they drink they move closer. Before he can react, she is pressed close to him and is kissing him. It is just a peak but it is enough to fire his blood. It also throws him into a panic. He freezes for a minute. Now what? His body reacts as his mind struggles. He takes her lips in a frenzy. Now what?!

#my writing #modern au #hitman #a date?#anti hero #outlander fanfic #outlander fandom

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umccall71 · 5 years

Text

Chapter 16

Characters: Prince Liam and MC Lady Sexy

Rating:Mature content includes profanity, sexual content,talks about depression.

Word Count:5789

Disclaimer:All characters are property of Pixelberry except my OC Lady Saige. The use of these characters are for entertainment only and i am only borrowing them.

Summary:After a summer of a lifetime,Prince Liam thought he could have it all.He was carefree, free, and sharing time with the woman of his dreams.When life was easy, a balancing act between love and duty, he realizes his truths are lies, wrong is right, and decisions do have consequences. Lady Saige never imagined she would be one of his consequences.When an utter act horror throws her world into a tailspin.

Warning: This series contains subject matter of depression and hopelessness.The story may trigger certain individuals. Please be advised. If you are reading this series you are acknowledging you are 18+.

A/N:Sorry for the long delay.Things have been hectic in my life for a bit.I had to take some time to focus on my health. Thanks for your understanding and support.

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It was finally here … Coronation day for the newly crowned king. Liam effortlessly moved about the palace signing off on every detail that had been planned for weeks. As much as he knew this would be a huge responsibility for him, the crown, he was more anxious what the transition would mean to his queen. Saige was already apprehensive about her new role and the pregnancy, but she was also spending more nights tossing and turning in her sleep. She hardly slept nights with this underlying fear for her boogeyman… his father and visiting the bathroom several times a night from becoming sick. He would feel her trying not to disturb him as she slowly slid out of bed making her way for her nightly ritual. Some nights Liam would lie in bed with his eyes silently listening to Saige talking to their unborn child. He did not want to encroach upon those private moments hearing the promises and hopes she had for the baby.

“Hello my little wish.. I hope that I am the mommy that you need. You are so lucky to have Liam as your daddy.”, she softly smiled while rubbing her barely there belly. “I never imagined being anyone’s mommy until I met your daddy. He makes any girl wish and dream a little bigger. He loves us so much and we can’t wait to meet you. I can imagine you being placed in his arms for the first time… the pride will be undeniable. He cannot wait to introduce you to the world.”she sighed , “I just want to keep you nestled in our arms only for us , as long as I can love.”

Liam couldn't help but feel the weight of her fears as he listened to her sniffle before drifting off to sleep.

Liam bought his thoughts back to the present day, preparing for the coronation and the grand announcement of his marriage and the next heir. He mulled around pointing and correcting the tiniest detail… everything had to be flawless… going off without a hitch. He wanted Saige’s official welcome to be seamless, the perfect welcome home. She would be spending this night … her first of many hopefully in the royal quarters. He looked forward to carrying her over the threshold to their home within the palace. He made certain that Constantine and Regina were no longer residing under the same roof. Bastien had worked around the clock with the guards and staff to get them setup in a distant property belonging to the royals, but also insuring him some distance from the former king and queen. He needed no reminders to Saige of what his father had done to her peace of mind , and stealing more of her dream state.

Liam had made arrangements for The royal Phantom Rolls Royce in White to be sent ahead to carry his queen to be and Duchess Olivia to the palace from Lythikos. Inside waiting were two dozen sterling roses wrapped in royal blue and gold , and tied with an ornate gold ribbon. He also made certain there was small spread of royal blue roses representing the royal family inside.

“Liam really went all out for you Saige. He wanted nothing but the best for his wife… his soon to be queen.”,Olivia grinned like a proud mama. “You certainly have our soon to be king head over heels in love and .. loving every minute of it. Once Cordonia learns that you are queen … it won't be long before the press and the people are hounding you both about how long until the royal heir.”,she giggled.

Saige sat silently tracing the rose closest to her.She did not respond… that caused Olivia to pause. “Wait a minute.. Your rather reserved for such a big expectation.I would think you would chewing your right arm to get away from such a pressure.” Saige looked out of the window as the Rolls Royce made its way closer to the palace.

“I wonder what time Liam wants me to start getting dressed? This is a big night for him… for us.”Her voice grew quiet thinking about the big announcement. “I just hope his father stays as far away from me as possible. Would it be too much to expect to avoid him all together?”, she spoke her private thoughts aloud, deflecting on the conversation OLivia had started about expectations of an heir. She and Liam had not shared with anyone that they were expecting a child , not even her best friend. The number of people that knew , she could count on one hand.

Olivia arched her brow staring daggers at Saige, “No comment about what i've said?”, she questioned.

“So Liv , will Drake be joining you tonight? As your date? This is a big night for Liam and myself as his … wife. When are you planning to tell Liam that your involved? He has a lot of questions and even mentioned introducing you to some eligible nobles.”

Olivia snapped her head , “he wouldn’t dare… I do not need the next king to set me up like some old spinster. I can find my own dates, thank you very much!”,she emphasized the H at the end of her statement.

“You know all of this could be squashed if he only knew that you were already spoken for.. by Drake. He’d be happy as a clam to learn two of our best friends are in love.”

“Who said anything about love Saige? We enjoy relieving stress and being a warm body every now and then.” She seemed to protest louder as the conversation steered away from an heir to her love life. “Let us not get caught up in labels, he’s a fun ride, much like this gorgeous car. As those words were spoken the car came to a stop in front of the palace doors. The ladies were greeted by several members of the royal guard. The door to the Rolls Royce opened and Saige was formally greeted, Lady Saige, your grace… I am here to escort you to the boutique per his highness order. I am instructed to not leave until he meets you .” Saige was taken aback by all the attention.. Especially now. “That won't be necessary… we can find our way.”, she spoke softly. “Maam , I do understand, but I have my orders. The king would have my head if I left you alone… I'm sorry.”, the guard lowered his eyes as the two women slid from the back seat and made their way to the front doors in similar maxi dresses until they got dolled up together for the evening.

Moments after arriving in the boutique, Saige felt her purse vibrating from her incoming call...she instantly smiled. “Hello.”, her cheeks were hurting so much from smiling.

Liam cleared his throat, “ I have it on good authority that the next queen of Cordonia has arrived.”he smirked.

Saige twirled a loose tendril of her dark hair as she listened to the deep sultry tone of her husband on the other end of the phone. “I too have it on good authority that the next king is in the building … and he is gorgeous,'' she chuckled. “Love..In about two hours the transition of power will be complete...then you and I will take reign as the future rulers of Cordonia. For now.. I will leave you to get ready with Liv. I hope you enjoy my surprise. I will meet you in an hour to personally escort my bride to the ball.”

Saige ended her call and the boutique staff approached her with garment bags, stylish shoes, and hair and make up stylist were ready. They were ready to coif the beautiful auburn hair and porcelain skin of the next queen. The transformation was underway. She felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman , without the chosen profession of the lead character.

“My God Liv… is this really happening … all these people attending to me like a ….”, she trailed off.

“You mean like a queen? That is your title within the next few hours… Liam’s queen. Get used to it, having people anticipate your every need or want. Women would fall over themselves for your life, your man… your king.”, she lowered her voice for the tail end of the statement. “Get used to the fact that he loves you and he wants you with him, by his side in every facet of his life.

“Liv I know he loves me… that’s not my issue, it’s what the other nobles will think.”

“To hell with what they think… the only people that matter are you and Liam. As long as your both making each other happy, that’s all that counts. I don’t give a damn Saige what those uptight sons of bitches think about my best friend and the man she loves and he loves the hell out of her.Saige, your no consolation prize for our soon to be king Liam… you're his prize. That man chose you because you are what makes him happy… makes him smile… makes him see a future, your his future.”

Saige fell quiet, unnoticeably touching her belly. She stood in front of the antique mirror as the staff scurried around her preparing her hair and makeup. Olivia’s words washing over her like a thunderstorm filling the night sky and bursting out of unsuspecting clouds. No corner of her mind went unoccupied as she replayed her best friends words. Saige sat in the chair as the hair stylist composed her auburn locks into a meticulously braided updo.The elegant style was finished off with majestic flowers and greenery. She sat still as her porcelain skin was accentuated with light touches of blush , eye shadow, mascara,and lip stain.

When the finishing touches were placed upon her eyes , the ocean blue popped from her eyes. “Oh Saige … you look beautiful… There will not be a closed mouth as you enter the ballroom on the arm of your king.”, such pride laced every word as Olivia beamed at her friend.

“Thanks Liv… I appreciate your kindness.”

“It’s not kindness if it’s true. Everyone will see exactly who Liam sees. He didn’t fall in love with you, he leaped in love with you.”,she smiled.

“The phrase falling in love implies that you slipped and you didn’t know where you were gonna land. It was no accident that Liam wanted to court you and eventually marry you.He saw what a phenomenal woman you are Saige.” Olivia gently grasped her friend’s hand. Moments later the royal tailor appeared with a cobalt blue gown, satin flowy, off the shoulder gown meant for a queen. There was a slender tie detailing her midsection. The seamstress helped Saige into her gown and covered her mouth in awe of the beauty before her. Saige slid on a set of rhinestone stilettos that adorn intricate details on the heel.

“Madame… his majesty will be in awe of the sight of you.”, she grinned at the reflection of the full picture of Saige standing in the mirror.

“I couldn’t agree more Celeste. My love, you look stunning. I expected nothing less from you. You always take my breath away.” Liam slid up behind her and leaned down kissing her cheek as their eyes locked upon her image standing before him. Liam was dressed in his formal Royal uniform. He wore black with a red sash and royal blue and satin metals draping the sash.

“You look so handsome Liam… then you always look so handsome.I am a lucky girl to be escorted by you for such a night.”, her smile filled her face from ear to ear. Her dimples on display as she bursted with love in her eyes.

“Are you ready my love… this is our night and no one will stand in our way. I will formally introduce you as my wife and my queen.”Liam tipped Saige’s face up to look deeply into his eyes as he whispered, “we will be celebrating the upcoming birth of our child next. I am looking forward to making love with you in our royal quarters tonight.”,he stared at her with lust blown eyes filled with desire.

“I know the way to the ballroom and… I know when I’m a third wheel”, Olivia laughed, “i'll see you two soon .” She sashayed out of the boutique and down the flight of the grand staircase.

“Our guest awaits love… come.”Liam extended his arm and Saige wove her arm through his resting her hand in the crook. They both smiled softly as they made their way down the grand staircase flanked by the royal guards. As they approached the ballroom the sound of the orchestra playing bellowed down the hall from the acoustics. The doors opened and the trumpets sounded announcing Prince Liam and his date, Lady Saige.All eyes were on them as they were surveyed from head to toe. Saige swallowed hard trying to contain her nerves. She felt Liam reassuringly squeeze her hand. “You will be fine love… this is our night. Everything was planned down to the second.”, she nodded in acceptance.

Liam ushered Saige by the hand as he made introductions and his rounds before the formal announcement was to commence. She smiled as she met everyone officially and was reintroduced to Penelope and Kiara. “It’s lovely to see you both again, they curtsied knowing that Saige and Liam were already married and she was by right royalty.

Liam led Saige out into the center of the elegantly decorated ballroom where he led her in the Cordoniam waltz. Everyone disappeared as the couple danced effortlessly around what felt like every inch of the ballroom. “ I can’t believe you get to live like this all the time.”, she leaned her head down as she giggled softly.

“This is our life and we have a lifetime of happiness to experience.”, he kissed her cheek. The music slowed and then came to a stop as the staff started circulating with flutes of champagne to every noble in the room.

Olivia stood by the bar where she inconspicuously grazed Drake’s manhood as he sported a dress suit that was a surprise. “ I never thought I’d see you in a suit.”, she shot a sly grin.

“Don’t get used to it… it was only at the request of our king to be.”, he knocked backed a glass of whiskey.

The trumpets sounded again announcing the arrival of king father Constantine and queen mother Regina.

Saige cringed at the sight of her attacker, standing in front her bold eyes and entitled. She slid slightly behind Liam as they neared the dais.Liam gripped her hand as if to send her a message… that she’s safe with him.Olivia and Drake moved closer to the front in case Liam lost it and assaulted his father again. The two of them knew what very few knew… the events of the last night she spent in this ballroom.

Saige chewed the inside of her cheek as her nerves turned into battling butterflies in her tummy. Olivia moved to her best friends side knowing her internal struggle to keep it together. “We’ve got you Saige”, she grinned in the direction of Constantine, “besides I’m wearing my knives.. we can certainly cut him down to size.”, she sneered.

“ I’m okay.. tonight is about Liam and him being crowned king. Nothing will get in the way of his big night.”, she began dusting invisible lint from her gown.

Constantine cleared his throat, “ ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for joining us on this auspicious night. We come together for the next dynasty to lead Cordonia into prosperity. I have enjoyed spending the last three decades as your monarch, and now… I look forward to passing the baton to my son… Liam. He may not have been the first crowned prince, but he is destined to lead Cordonia forward. He is the next monarch Cordonia deserves. I am proud to pass the Royal signet to my son… our next ruler. I present … King Liam .”

The room burst into thunderous applause and the clinking of champagne glasses. Liam made his way to the dais where his father and step mother hugged him and raised glasses in celebration.

He raised his hand to silence the room before he began his speech. He smiled down at Saige as she stood beside Olivia, Liam’s blue eyes veered to his side watching his father and Regina.

“Thank you all for helping to usher in the next chapter in Cordonia’s future. I only want happiness and prosperity for all our people and myself. I only want the best and brightest future as your king. I will work tirelessly to be the best leader I can be to all of Cordonia. I want a Cordonia that will be legacy to all of our children, and grandchildren. This country, this kingdom is a home I aspire to build where families can come together and help shape a brilliant path for Cordonia. I owe lady Cordonia my life, and I will be forever indebted to her for bringing me such joy and pride. I know it is tradition that when a king ascends to the throne he must be engaged or married.”, Liam smiled brightly out into the crowd watching the women adjusting their dresses and primping in hopes of being honored to participate in the next social season. “ I will honor the tradition, but I also announce that there will not be a social season . You see … There is no need for a social season… I am proud to announce that I have already found my queen. I met my queen and fell in love with her upon sight. She has shown me that I can be a better man, a better king, a better husband and, soon I will add the title as a better father.”, his blue eyes sparkled as the light of the chandelier hit the flecks in his eyes. “I would like to formally introduce my wife, my new queen and the mother to the next heir to the throne… all hail her majesty , Queen Saige.”

The room was filled with gasps and shock as their newly appointed king had revealed he had his queen and a child on the way. He managed to silence everyone, including his father. Suddenly Olivia led the round of applause and a toast to the new king and queen. Penelope, Kiara, and Drake made their way forward as Liam walked down the stairs of the dais to greet his queen. He led her back up to the dais to show off his wife to all in attendance. Saige smiled gently, trying to hide her nerves as all eyes again landed on her and Liam. She felt as though she were under a microscope as the news was sinking in that she was married to the now king and carrying his child.. the next heir to the throne.

“Liam what did you just do? She continued to smile as the crowd cheered and applauded the royals. “Love… you and our baby are nobody’s secret. I am proud to have you by side… and now you will be celebrated for the queen you are in my life.”

Liam came down on one knee, “a king only kneels to his queen.”, he bowed his head, kissing her hand. He rose to his queen and led her out onto the floor heading out to the balcony doors when they were headed off by none other than king father Constantine. Saige’s face grew white as a sheet upon laying her eyes on her perpetrator.

“Liam… I wanted to pay my respects to the new queen … I would never have thought that such a simple woman would plant herself in the path of history as a concubine to the king.”

Liam locked eyes with his father, “I would choose my next words wisely old man. Go ahead... try what little patience I have dwindling when it comes to you. You will respect my wife, my queen… your reign of terror is over Constantine . Saige is my wife and the mother of my child. You should be bowing in her presence as the mother of the next Rhys that will ascend the throne. I strongly suggest you call upon your training to show your other nobles that you are happy for us… or I shall make sure everyone in this room learn of your past transgressions.”, Liam was seething but his reaction was hidden from an untrained eye.

Regina walked up and scowled momentarily as she smiled at Saige, “ I suppose you should be congratulated on your chess moves my dear , marrying the now king and then passing off some..”, she was cut off by Liam, “we bid you both good night .”

Liam took Saige by her hand and led her out onto the balcony closing the doors behind them.

He pulled her over into the alcove and held her in his arms and chest as she released her breath and her tears that she was fighting to conceal until she was away from prying eyes. As much as she wanted to break down in front of Constantine, she couldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“It’s okay love, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”, he whispered into her hair as she clung tightly to him as she collapsed in his arms holding onto him for strength and to hold her up, at least until she could fall apart in his arms, in their bed.

Saige looked up at Liam through wet lashes and saddened eyes, “I’m sorry Liam.. I didn’t want to ruin this night for you.”, she fought back sobs.

“Saige, you have zero to be sorry about love. This night is for us and no.one will take our joy.”Liam met her lips with fiery passion and he found his soulmate in that moment as the night sky burst into fireworks and he wrapped her in his arms as vibrant burst of gold and blue blaze a path across the sky.

Liam took a handkerchief out and dabbed the corners of her eyes as they glided back into the ballroom and nodding as they made their way toward the door. Liam thanked his guest as the evening wound down. The new king and queen slowly walked the darkened halls of the palace toward the royal quarters. After climbing the stairs and turned a maze of hallways they reached the ornate set of golden gilded doors.He turned and landed his blue eyes upon her matching set of blue eyes. “Welcome to our new home my queen.”He lifted her in his arms and carried her across the threshold kicking the door closed behind them . His lips melded to her as he carried her down the hall and to their suite.Liam gently laid her back on the tapestry of this duvet cover and the mountain of decorative touches and pillows. He slowly eyed her beauty as he was consumed with lust and love. “God you are beautiful.” His hands ghosted over her face, her chiseled jaw, her slender neck, her ample breasts and slid around to undo her zipper. His gaze never left her eyes as his fingertips traced gently down the soft skin of her back.

Liam undid the satin wrap around Saige’s waist and slid her cobalt blue gown down her frame. His lips were soft and warm as they gently sucked and nibbled her neck , her pink buds that stood erect under his touch, and relished the sensation as he moved effortlessly down her chest and paid homage to her tiny belly that was nestling their baby away safely.

He looked up as her manicured nails teased at the nape of neck playing with his fine hairs.

“ I crave you my love… let me serve you tonight.”Liam slowly parted her thighs so warm, as he seeked solace in her center.He felt her satin thong, “your so wet for me already love.” He laid a soft kiss to her perfection over her underwear feeling how damp she was for him. “What would you like my queen?”, he whispered as he stared between her eyes and her sex.

She panted in anticipation, “ I want you, only you Liam, my king.” With those words rolling off of her tongue like a soliloquy.His teeth locked on the waistband of her underwear and guided them slowly down her thighs.

“Oh Liam”, her fingers locked into his hair as he removed her underwear that were soaked from her desire.He eased up her thighs nipping at each exposed area as he found her now bare skin lying before him.

Liam smiled at her before he worshipped her, “the things I want to do with you love… I can’t wait to pay my respects to my beautiful queen.” He rubbed soft circles on her clit and slid his fingers between her slick folds. Saige’s body relaxed under his touch, growing slightly impatient wanting to feel his lips on her . A deep breath escaped her as she finally felt his lips latch around her pearl working his magic instantly.Liam curled two fingers inside her as he increased the pressure he applied to her clit.

His eyes slowly closed as he had his way , his tongue tracing slow figure eights as it danced around her sensitive clit. Her stomach rose and fell as she felt her lips fluttering around his tongue as she neared her release. “ Liam.. oh god… I ..,”, she trailed off riding this pleasurable wave as she tipped over the edge as he continued to ride her with his tongue and lips as she came undone under him. He smiled as he watched her lift her hips off the bed .

“Good girl… I love you my queen. Just know”, he licked his lips enjoying tasting her essence on his mouth. “ I’m just getting started my love”,he smirked as he moved like a cat with his prey up here body. He nipped and sensually ran the tip of his tongue up her sides. He played with her slick folds with his impressive girth and length. Liam was no small man, but she loved the way he made her feel, not just physically, but with the love he exuded as they came together time and time again.

Liam came to hover just above her as her nipples rose to come in close contact with his chest and chiseled abs . Saige was writhing beneath Liam counting the moments he would make her his ... again... only this time in the royal boudoir.

“Are you ready for me?”, he ran the tip of his massive member along the seam of her entrance. Liam ran his thumb over the tip coming in contact with his precum. He lifted his hand to her lips, “do you want taste what you do to me love?”, he smirked as her mouth fell slightly open allowing her lips to capture his thumb as she gently sucked and licked his fresh nectar. “Tonight is about you my queen.” He nibbled her chin as he plunged deep inside pausing for a moment allowing her to adjust to the way he filled her eager sex. Liam felt her stretching and gripping around him. “Are you okay love… I’m not hurting you am I ?”, he kissed her sensitive area beneath her ear. Saige shook her head no. She lifted her hips to meet his , pleading silently for him to move. She realized how desperately she needed him, she needed to be with him. Liam obliged by slowly working his manhood deeper inside of her quivering walls. Liam watched as her head fell back each time he hit her spot perfectly as he drove himself deeper. He lifted her leg around his hip allowing himself to move his hips driving her closer to the edge again.

Liam knelt on his knees lifting her hips , legs dangling over his toned thighs as he lifted her hips repeatedly as he met her thrust gently pushing her further as the fire built in her belly each time she felt her body getting closer… wanting to scream as he grinded his hips into hers . “Liam.. I’m about to …”, her words were swallowed by his kiss. “ come for me Saige… I need to watch you cum with me love “, his eyes flashed from deep sky blue to a darkened gray as he became consumed with his body molding to hers in perfect sync. He felt his abs tightening and his breathing becoming ragged as he picked up the pace . “Fuck Saige … you feel amazing. His mouth locked on her buds as she began shaking , thighs were weak as she coated his manhood as she came undone for a second time. Liam felt his member pulsing as she fluttered and clinched as she rode her release, he picked up speed and drove deeply into her pounding her spot over and over as she screamed his name losing herself. Something about hearing his name on her lips in that sensual growl sent him over the edge and he too met his own release.

Liam held her close to him , lowering her hips, allowing her legs to go limp beneath him. He gently kissed her belly before laying his head on her stomach. His fingertips slowly played with her belly as they both slowly felt their bodies and breathing returning to normal. They both laid covered in a light slick film of sweat as evidence of their passionate love making.

He kissed her belly, “I love you… I love you both with all my heart. I can’t imagine being as happy as I am tonight… lying beside you, here in the dark , feeling your heartbeating with mine… softly hearing your shallow breathing … I know that I’m home in your arms. I promise to work faithfully to make you happier each day we spend together. I may be king… but I will first and always be your husband.”

Liam maneuvered up and behind Saige’s body, wrapping her in his arms , inhaling her scent of jasmine as he nuzzled her neck with his nose .

“Are you happy my love? I want nothing more than for you to be happy… I hope your happy with me.” Saige listened to her self assured husband flashing a morsel of doubt. He seemed to fear that she would not feel that he was going to continue to make her happy.

Saige laid there quietly before she rolled over facing her king, “Liam… you never have to doubt that your my happiness… my best friend… my soulmate. I can never imagine a life without you.. without us.” , she exhaled. “ I’m just glad that your … father is gone from here… I don’t know what I would do if he were still ...still under this roof. I want him to stay away from me… from our baby. I can’t imagine spending the next thirty three weeks fearing that he will take our child.” Liam cupped her head in his large hand as he held her close to his chest. “ shh… don’t worry… we are going to be fine. He would not dare to come back here.”

Liam would not release Saige , he laid in the dark listening to her breathing slowly calming down before falling to sleep. He thought to himself, “I hate him for this hell he cursed upon you. Baby … I’m never going to let him hurt you again.” Liam leaned back holding her tight as he stared up at the ceiling with silent tears running down his face, as he cried for the pain of his bride. “This too shall pass... I have to restore her peace of mind... at all cost.”

30 notes · View notes

bearfeathers · 5 years

Note

Ineffable Husbands: 44 + 71 :3c

[PROMPT ME!] | [AO3]

Whew! This one was exhausting. Sweeping love confessions tend to do that to a writer lol

***

"Crowley. I... I need to speak to you. Please. Will you come?"

Nothing could have made him move faster. When Aziraphale had phoned him in the middle of the night, he'd sounded troubled when he'd asked him over. Given that they had rather recently performed their little body swapping act to avoid punishment for the Notpocalypse, it's enough to make Crowley worry. Had the angel heard something from Heaven? Should he expect the same?

"Angel?" he calls, closing the shop's doors behind him with a snap of his fingers.

The lack of answer only puts speed in his stride and he reaches the back room at a near sprint. Not here either. Something's definitely not right.

"Aziraphale!"

He takes the stairs up to the angel's flat two at a time, the door flinging open long before he even reaches it. But as he enters, he finds that Aziraphale doesn't seem to be in any danger. He's sat on the sofa, his coat on the rack nearby. He's looking particularly let loose (well, for him anyway) with his sleeves are rolled up to the elbow, his bowtie untied, and a glass held between his hands.

"Couldn't be arsed to answer me, I suppose? I was only screaming my bloody head off for you down there," Crowley says. But when he sees the small puddle of liquid at the bottom of the glass and the flush on the angel's face, he can see what part of the problem is. "You've been drinking tonight, haven't you?"

It's really not much of a question. It's as plain as day that he has been. The empty wine bottles on the coffee table are kind of a dead give away.

"No. I mean, yes, but that's not—that doesn't have anything to do with why I asked you here," Aziraphale says. "Or... Well, I suppose it does, it's just not the reason, um..."

The angel isn't just in his cups. He's about as drunk as Crowley can remember having seen him and that can't bode well. Crowley leans to the side, resting his weight on his hip against the wall as he crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly very aware of the fact that he's never even seen the angel's flat before.

"You said you needed to speak to me," Crowley reminds him. "Suppose you might like to sober up for that?"

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Aziraphale shakes his head in response. If Crowley hadn't been concerned before, he is now. The angel never likes to have serious conversations while inebriated. What could he possibly have to talk about that he can't be sober for? That he called Crowley in the middle of the night for? It’s obviously of some importance but Crowley can only begin to imagine what it is. Aziraphale hardly looks happy about it and the demon’s gut churns unpleasantly.

"Alright," Crowley says. He carefully pries himself from the wall and approaches the worn but comfortable looking sofa, taking a seat on the far end. He wants to be close, but still leave the angel enough room so that he doesn’t feel smothered, sensing that this is something which should be approached delicately. “Do you want to tell me what it is, then?”

With a nod, Aziraphale leans forward and places his glass on the coffee table. For a moment Crowley thinks he’s about to refill it, but thankfully he leaves it just where it is and leans back in his seat. The angel presses his hands to his face with a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Aziraphale says. “I didn’t... didn’t realize what time it was.”

Crowley shrugs a shoulder. “Well, I mean, I don’t actually need to sleep and you sounded like you had something important. Is it about... them?”

He stresses the word, knowing his counterpart will pick it up. But Aziraphale shakes his head, not looking to be in any better spirits for it. So no news on that front. But if not that, he doesn’t know what could have the angel so tied in knots. He watches as Aziraphale looks down at his well-manicured hands where they now rest in his lap. He tugs his fingers, curls them around each other, squeezes them, laces them together, bends them at angles which should be painful. Such a familiar quirk by now and an easy tell when it comes to reading him.

“This might sound a bit... strange to you, Crowley. And you may not like what I have to say,” Aziraphale warns him. “But I ask that you please let me say it.”

This is starting to scare him, and he isn't the type to scare easily. “Angel, I don’t know what–“

“Please,” Aziraphale reiterates, hazel eyes pleading and dark with some mixture of emotion that Crowley can’t identify. “Then you can say or do whatever you wish.”

Crowley doesn’t know what else to do than agree. He nods his head, rubbing his palms against his thighs as he does so. “...alright.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale says, seeming genuinely relieved.

It seems he’s taking a moment to gather his thoughts or compose himself as he inhales deeply and closes his eyes once more. He’d said that Crowley may not like what he has to say. Frankly, they’ve said a lot of things to each other that the other hasn’t liked over the years. But after the Notpocalypse, he felt as though they’d come to a new understanding of each other. That they’d reached a new place in regards to one another. He doesn’t very much like the idea of being knocked from that place.

“I’ve been doing a great deal of thinking... for a long time now, but also much more of it very recently,” Aziraphale says, opening his eyes but not looking at him. “After our recent adventure put things into perspective. And I’m–I’m just–I wanted to... to...”

Barely two sentences in and he’s already getting himself this worked up. Crowley feels the need to interject, but remembers his promise to allow the angel to say his piece.

“The thing is, I know the things they say about me. Up... Up there. I do,” Aziraphale says. “And it’s not even that I blame them, I can–well, I understand. They don’t think I know, but I do. And truth be told, I’ve never been very good at being an angel so they’re not entirely wrong.”

“Angel–“

“All I’m saying,” Aziraphale declares loudly, talking over Crowley, “is that I never quite... fit in. I was never quite good enough. But in the same token, I don’t think I’m quite, well... bad enough for Hell. So I thought to myself–I–I thought, what exactly would you call an angel who isn’t good enough for Heaven but not bad enough for Hell?”

Crowley doesn’t bother to try and answer.

“I thought that sounded very nearly human,” Aziraphale says. “But the thing is–the thing is–I’m not that either. I don’t fit anywhere. And I tried to just–just pretend that I did. That if I did so long enough then I would fit, I would be a good enough angel. But that’s... It’s just not who I am. It’s not something I can bury deep enough that it goes away.”

The angel finally meets his gaze. His eyes are wet with tears threatening to overcome him at any moment. It makes Crowley’s chest tight, leaving him feeling robbed of air that he doesn’t really need.

“All of this made me realize. You’ve... You’ve always–always felt like home to me,” Aziraphale says, his voice waterlogged. “When you said we were on our own side, I... I couldn’t fathom at first why it... it just made so much sense. Because that’s how it’s always been. Even when we were at odds you... I felt closer to you than anyone or anything else. You are... You are the single most important thing to me in all of Creation.”

The demon breathes out, half startled wheeze and half anxious laugh. “Now I know you’ve been drinking.”

He hadn’t meant it to, but it’s clear the comment stings. If only he could make the angel understand that it hadn’t been meant as a joke, but rather a statement of plain disbelief. Because he can’t even begin to comprehend how they’re having this conversation right now. Crowley’s lost count of the number of times he’s pictured this scenario in his head. Only it was never Aziraphale who had initiated it.

“For a very long time I didn’t know if I... What I mean is that angels are made to love, but I didn’t think we were equipped to love the way that... that...” Aziraphale’s nearly choking on the words and Crowley feels as though someone has a vice on his heart. “The way that I love you. Because I realized that’s what I felt. I love you. I've been so—so afraid to say it. For so long. So afraid of what could happen to either of us if I did and... And I don’t know if I should be apologizing for making you wait six thousand years or... or–or for ruining our friendship by saying it, I just... I just needed...”

Crowley needs to say something. Anything. Whatever will stop those fat tears from rolling down the angel’s cheeks. But his tongue has shriveled up in his mouth because Aziraphale loves him. That’s what he said. That he loves him. Him. Crowley. So he does he only thing he can think to do in that moment.

In hindsight, he realizes he’d practically thrown himself at the angel in his haste, but neither of them seemed to mind. Crowley lunges to close the gap between them, his hands on Aziraphale’s face as he kisses him into silence. Aziraphale whimpers against his lips and grips Crowley’s shirt tightly, trying to somehow bring him even closer. Crowley has wanted this for more years than he can count. But not like this. He never wanted it to hurt.

But it was bound to, wasn't it? Six thousand years of dancing this dance, of hurting and helping each other, of loving as quietly as they could. This is just ripping the bandage off. A hurt that will pass. That's all it is, he has to believe that.

“Stop,” Crowley breathes, the second they part. He can feel the sting of tears in his own eyes now, can feel them running hot down his cheeks and leaving chilly trails in their wake as they meet the open air. “Stop. Just... Stop, you idiot.”

“I’m sorry," Aziraphale hiccups.

"No, that's not what I—don't apologize," Crowley says, keeping his forehead pressed against the angel's. "Why the hell did you have to be drunk to tell me this?"

"I thought it would be easier if you... if you didn't recip—rec'pr... if you didn't feel the same," Aziraphale explains. "I didn't think I could bear to hear it sober."

He wasn't sure. And here Crowley thought he'd been the obvious one. He thought he'd given himself away more times than he could count and here the angel tells him he hadn't known.

"You have to have known," Crowley says, his voice hushed, wrecked. "How could you not have known that I love you more than anything?"

"I didn't know if you could. I didn't know if either of us could," Aziraphale says. "I just... I've just been so confused and I thought... just having you as a friend was enough but—" He laughs, but there's little humor in it. "—you know how overindulgent I can be so... so... I had to know for sure. But the thought of driving you away, I couldn't..."

The angel makes a small, miserable noise, as though the mere thought has caused him pain. Crowley feels it, too. He knows that pain like an old friend.

"Angel, nothing's ever driving me away," Crowley assures him. "The only way I'm going anywhere is if you tell me to."

There's a brief nod from the angel as he sniffles quietly, his hands gently pushing the demon away. For a moment Crowley feels a stab of panic, until Aziraphale reaches up and pulls his shades from his face. He folds them neatly, placing them on the coffee table by several empty bottles. He takes his time in framing Crowley's face with his hands, brushing his thumbs along sharp cheekbones and staring deep into eyes as gold as wheat fields in the midday sun.

"I just... wanted to see your eyes for this," Aziraphale says, still weepy. "I love your eyes, you know. I know why you hide them but..."

He stares into them as though he's found something there and Crowley can't for the life of them imagine what that is. But it occurs to him now that the angel is still incredibly drunk and, doubt being such a good friend of his, feels himself drawing back.

"Look, are you sure about this?" Crowley asks. He reaches up to hold the angel by the wrists. He has to be sure. "Because if you sober up and you're not, I don't think I'll be able to take it. So I need to know."

"I wouldn't have started drinking if I weren't sure, but... I—I see what you mean. I'll sober up now," Aziraphale agrees. "Just give me a moment..."

They tend not to have the nasty side effects that come with sobering up that humans do, but it doesn't mean it's pleasant. He can tell the angel is sober and experiencing a headache—he always gets them when he drinks too much wine—the moment the bottles are refilled and he winces. Aziraphale presses the heel of his palm to his eye with a soft hiss, undoubtedly regretting some of his decisions, but hopefully not the one Crowley is most concerned with.

"I'm sorry about that, my dear," he sighs, still wiping at the tears in his eyes. "Will this do?"

"That depends," Crowley says, trying and failing to sound calmer than he feels.

There's a flicker of confusion in the angel's eyes before he understands what Crowley's asking of him.

"I love you," Aziraphale says, gently smiling at him as though saying it had been the easiest thing in the world. But then, he is an angel, Crowley supposes. It's bound to be easier. "I've always loved you. I just... didn't always know it. Or understand it. But I do now. And you, um..."

"Of course I love you," Crowley says, trying not to shout. "Did everything short of putting it up in neon lights."

"...or saying it," Aziraphale adds.

"...or that. But look, you weren't the only one with doubts," Crowley informs him. "I never said anything because I thought if I did, you'd be gone."

"I think... I think at one time, that admission might have frightened me," Aziraphale admits, looking just a touch guilty. "How long have you...?"

"Since the beginning," Crowley says. "Since the second you told me you'd done the fool thing of giving away that bloody sword of yours."

"And you... knew, then," Aziraphale prods.

"About my own feelings, yeah, sure," Crowley says. "Not about yours."

"Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry," Aziraphale sighs, reaching for his hands once more and holding them between his own. "I'm sorry I didn't understand any of this. I'm sorry it took so long. I'm sorry I... cocked it all up so spectacularly."

"You haven't cocked anything up. What's a few thousand years between friends, right?" Crowley says with a half-laugh. He clears his throat. "Or... whatever it is we are."

"Us?" Aziraphale ventures. "I think we can be 'Us' for now and perhaps—perhaps figure the rest out in the morning."

Right. Morning. He'd been sleeping before this, hadn't he? It hardly feels like it now. But he supposes he should get home and give them both some space to think this all over. That must be what the angel's implying. He's distracted from his thoughts by the feeling of his hands being squeezed and finds Aziraphale with a near-death grip on them.

"I know you were sleeping prior to this," the angel says slowly. "And I was thinking of... perhaps sleeping this headache off. So I wondered if you might—you don't have to, of course—but perhaps you might consider—ah—well... staying... here. With me."

Crowley feels like he's been repeatedly slapped in the face by life tonight and now she's just decided to straight out come for his life. Aziraphale is asking him to spend the night. Aziraphale, who has nearly never slept in 6,000 years, is asking Crowley to go to bed with him. The demon is starting to wonder when the other shoe is going to drop on this one, but strangely, even as he asks himself that, he has a feeling it isn't going to.

"Yeah," Crowley manages to say around the lump in his throat, forcing the words past a tongue that's shrivelled up in his mouth. "Yeah, alright."

And the way those simple words make Aziraphale glow... It's nearly too much for him. He claims to hate seeing Crowley hide his eyes, but doesn't seem to realize that half the time it's just because he's too damn bright. More than once, Crowley's been afraid of being burned for getting too close. But now, as the angel takes him by the hand and leads him away from the sofa, Crowley wouldn't dream of letting go.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fic #replies

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