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roosterforme · 2 months

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Always Ever Only You Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You try to keep it together as much as you can in Annapolis, but that's easier said than done. Bradley realizes that while this week feels unbearable, a deployment would be much worse. And you cautiously tell Bradley there are two people you think should be the first ones to know about the baby.

Warnings: Swearing, adult language, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Monday morning came way too early on the east coast, especially when you barely slept and couldn't stop throwing up. "Why?" you groaned from your spot on the floor next to the toilet. You had exactly three hours until you had to give your presentation at 10:00, but Cat was already texting you from her hotel room across the hallway about getting breakfast. You'd be lucky if you could stomach a single peanut butter cracker and squeeze yourself into your uniform on time.

You crawled back out to the bedroom and rummaged in your suitcase for one of the ginger candies Bradley packed for you. It couldn't hurt at this point, so you shoved it in your mouth and pulled yourself up onto the bed. It was amazing that you could possibly feel this shitty. Your ribs and back hurt from constantly throwing up, and you were starting to feel dehydrated, but the idea of drinking something was too taxing to even consider.

"Why are you so mean?" you moaned as you rolled onto your side, letting your hand rest on your belly. "I actually love you, and you're being so mean to me all the time. Why?" You sucked on the candy and laughed. "You'll prefer your dad, I can already tell."

You kind of wanted to call him, but you didn't want to wake him up at four in the morning, so you settled on trying to get dressed instead. It was amazing that you did nothing but throw up, yet you were still all bloated and puffy. Your khaki pants were a little too snug for comfort, but you had no other option at the moment. When you looked at your butt in the mirror, you shrugged.

"Whatever," you whispered, buttoning your shirt as your stomach growled angrily. "Please, make up your mind," you begged your body as you heard a knock at your door. You pasted on a fake smile and opened it to reveal Cat Coleman looking like a million fucking dollars while you looked like a sewer rat. "Morning," you rasped.

Her eyes went a little wide as she pushed your door open. "Did you not get any sleep? You look awful."

You huffed out a breath, realizing you buttoned your shirt up wrong. "I'm fine," you muttered as you fixed it. "I'm just not quite ready to go yet."

"Yes, I gathered that much," she replied, eying you up and down. "Are you going to be able to present today? Because I can't do this without you."

You shot her a scathing look. "Of course I can present today. I'm fine. Great. Golden." You were in all honesty on the verge of throwing up again.

"Okay," she said with zero conviction. "Well, just knock on my door when you want to grab some breakfast and head over to the Naval Academy."

"Will do," you promised her. As soon as she was gone, you gagged into the toilet one more time before brushing your teeth and putting on enough makeup to hide the fact that it looked like you were going to fall over.

You felt weak as you tried to eat a pack of crackers so your stomach had something in it. This was a lot easier when Bradley was with you, rubbing your back and holding a glass of cold water for you to take sips from. You moaned softly and fought against the tears. If you thought about him too long, you were going to cry. Or worse... start to get turned on.

"I don't have time for this," you whined as you checked your phone. How was it already 8:00? Fuck, it was still too early to call Bradley, but now your mom and dad were both texting you to see if you were coming for dinner on Thursday. You knew you were going to have to invite Cat to come with you, since you only had one rental car. The idea of trying to get through the night with all of them was too much to consider at the moment.

Ignore it. Ignore everything. That was all you could do. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Focus on the presentation. Focus on not throwing up. That was the key.

You knocked on Cat's door, and she opened it immediately, dragging the tub of equipment out into the hallway with her. "It's late, so I figured we would eat breakfast and then head right to the conference?"

"Sure," you replied, picking up one end of the tub. But it really was heavy, and you struggled to get it to the elevator with her. "I'm actually not that hungry, so we can just get whatever you want on the way."

Cat scoffed. "I wanted to eat at Waffle House. I miss Annapolis so much."

Just thinking about the sticky floors and smell of maple syrup was turning your stomach at the moment. "Maybe we can do that tomorrow morning instead? Since we don't have our second presentation until Wednesday?"

"Fine," Cat agreed, and the two of you took the bin out to the rental car. She offered to drive, and you let her. Apparently you fell asleep on the ten minute ride, and she had to wake you up to go through security. "They want your ID card to get through the gate," she said, shaking your shoulder.

"Oh," you groaned, digging it out of your pocket and handing it to her.

"Seriously, are you sure you're okay?" she whispered as the guards inspected the car.

"Just jetlag," you promised, resisting the urge to roll down the window and barf. "I'm totally fine. Let's get this show on the road."

-----------------------------

Bradley poked at his burrito bowl in the cafeteria. Even the green hot sauce wasn't helping his mood since you couldn't actually eat it right now. It was just making him sad. He'd written five pages in the notebook for the baby, but it just made him miss you more. He wondered what you were doing right now. Surely your presentation must be over, but he hadn't heard from you. Maybe you had already checked in with Bickel. Maybe he should go up and talk to your boss and see?

"Wow," Nat said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Focus, Rooster."

"I'm sorry," he replied, trying to give her his full attention. "What did you say?"

"I asked you three times if you wanted to go see the new Tom Cruise movie with me tonight. I have a coupon for a free large popcorn that's about to expire."

"Yes. Absolutely." He'd do anything to keep himself busy this week. "What time?"

"6:30. I'll pick you up so you can call your wife from the car and talk to her before she goes to sleep east coast time."

"Sounds good," he agreed, taking his phone out to let you know about his plans. After work, when he was eating a bowl of cereal for dinner, you finally wrote back.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: The first presentation went pretty well. Have fun at the movie. I love you.

"That's it?" he asked Tramp after reading the message twice. Nat knocked on the door at the same time he called you.

When you answered with a soft, "Roo," followed by a groan, he had to take a deep breath.

"You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked as he headed for the front door to let his friend in.

"No," you moaned. "I had a rough day. I feel disgusting, and now your voice is making me horny."

This was admittedly not the best time for phone sex. He paused as he said, "Nat just got here, but if you need me to cancel the movie plans, I can do that."

"No," you gasped, "don't cancel your plans. Go have fun. We can talk tomorrow."

He shook his head as he said, "I'd rather talk to you now. I'll cancel."

"No! We can talk now. Put me on speaker so I can say hi to Nat."

"Fine," he agreed, unlocking and opening his front door. Tramp made a run for Nat as Bradley tapped the icon for speakerphone and said, "My wife wants to say hi to you."

His best friend took the phone right out of his hand and had a full conversation with you while she rummaged through the refrigerator and helped herself to a seltzer. Bradley stood there as patiently as he could, simultaneously feeling annoyed that you were telling Nat all about your presentation while also feeling relieved that he remembered to hide the ultrasound photos. You and his friend laughed and laughed together, and then he started tapping his wrist to get her to move things along.

"We'll be late," he told Nat, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Here's your husband back," she told you. "Have fun in Annapolis. Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone less annoying."

"Don't tell her that," Bradley said as he turned off speakerphone. "Don't listen to her, Sweetheart."

But you were just laughing now as he held the phone to his ear and followed Nat out to the driveway. He had to kick aside so much trash to get in her car, he was about to offer to drive instead, but she was already starting the engine. "This is fucking disgusting," he told her, covering the mouthpiece of his phone. "Clean your shit."

She just tore out of the driveway and said, "Talk to your wife before we get to the theater."

"Are you in the car?" you asked softly.

"Yeah. Unfortunately," he grunted. "Can you tell me about your presentation?"

"I nailed it even though I threw up so much this morning," you told him, but then you moaned. "Am I on speakerphone?"

"No."

"Bradley! I am so fucking horny, Daddy!" Your voice was extra whiny, and the last thing Bradley wanted was an erection in front of his best friend, but he could hear in your voice how badly you needed him. "I was talking to Commander Patterson after my presentation, and I swear Roo, he asked me if Top Gun aviation was a good fit for me, and all I could think about was your cock the whole time. I even told him that things from Top Gun aviation are a really snug fit for me!"

Bradley felt his cheeks warm up. He had no idea who Commander Patterson was, but he said, "I think Top Gun aviation is the place for you, Sweetheart. Nothing else is gonna fit you quite right."

"Bradley!" you whined, and the sound went straight to his cock as Nat adjusted the air conditioner settings. "Fuck, you remember that time you fucked me in the back of our Bronco after I texted you dirty photos at dinner?"

"Yeah," he grunted, closing his eyes and actually trying not to think about it.

"Remember on our honeymoon when you finger fucked your cum into my pussy and then traced my tattoo?"

He growled out your first name. "I absolutely do, but I think perhaps we should talk about that later?"

"Yes, yes, you're right. I'm sorry. I'm going to get my vibrators out and listen to old voicemail messages you left for me so I can get off, okay? Have fun at the movie. I love you."

The call went dead right as Nat pulled into the parking lot, and the trash at Bradley's feet shifted as she went careening over a speed bump. He was trying to catch his breath. All he really wanted was a little more information about your presentation and to make sure you and the nugget were okay, but what he got was a semi that he was trying to keep at bay.

"If I get nachos and a soft pretzel and popcorn will you eat some?" she asked as she parked.

"Yeah," he grunted as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Listen," Nat said as she fixed her hair in the mirror. "I know you miss her, and rightfully so since she's way cooler than you, but if you just give me one word answers all night, it's going to piss me off."

"Sorry," he added, trying to remember how to talk. Right now you were possibly getting off while listening to old voicemail messages that you kept? Of him just talking to you? Jesus, why was that making him so hot?

Nat was glaring at him now. He needed to focus.

"I'm sorry. No more one word answers. Let's go. It's time for Tom Cruise."

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When you woke up on Tuesday, you were snuggled up and so warm, you reached for Bradley. "Roo?" But when you opened your eyes, you were met with the sterile looking hotel room through your blurry vision. Now you remembered talking to Nat and Bradley on the phone before masturbating and falling asleep. When you sat up in bed, you definitely didn't feel as awful as you expected. And when you eased yourself to standing, you were surprised that your stomach didn't lurch.

You had one text message from your husband, and when you put your glasses on to read it, you laughed.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: baby girl, i'm going to need you to describe in detail for me exactly how you got off. while listening to my voicemails? please, as much detail as you can. i hope you came hard thinking about me. i love you. the movie was good. i'll take you next week if you want.

You wrote back to tell him that you did in fact come while you listened to a long rambling voicemail he left you a few months ago about how he left the house without his shopping list and made it all the way to Costco before he realized it. "Your Daddy has a nice voice, little nugget," you whispered, pressing one gentle palm to your belly.

It was 8:30, and you didn't have too much planned for the day other than breakfast at Waffle House with Cat. You had to give another presentation tomorrow, and you were excited to talk to some more superior officers afterwards. You were also supposed to make it to a cocktail hour this evening, but you were planning on ditching it and hoping Cat could network for both of you. It would be nearly impossible to avoid drinking without drawing attention to yourself when there were waiters walking around with flutes of champagne.

You took a quick shower and got yourself ready, and you tapped on Cat's door. When she opened it, she eyed you skeptically. "You look so much better today. Everything okay?"

"I think it was just the jetlag," you told her smoothly. "Wanna go to Waffle House?"

"Hell yes," she replied, turning to grab her bag. "Hopefully we don't run into my ex or anyone I used to work with."

In all your morning sickness and preparation back in San Diego, you had forgotten that Cat also had roots in Maryland. "If we run into Mike, point him out to me. I'll punch him in the face."

She laughed. "I would personally love to see that."

You drove the rental car through the familiar town to the diner you'd been to many times with Cam when you were at the Naval Academy together. You snapped a picture to send to him before walking inside. Sure enough, the floors were sticky, but it smelled like strong coffee, and your stomach started growling. You silently prayed that whatever you ate managed to stay down, at least until you were alone again.

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" Cat asked you as you glanced at the menu, a little disappointed that they didn't have avocado toast.

"I thought maybe I would take a nap at some point."

"Oh, that's actually a great idea. I might do that as well. I never get a full night of sleep when I'm home with Jeremiah."

You ordered a stack of pancakes and some bacon and then listened to Cat order the signature waffle. When the waitress wandered away, you asked, "Is Jake watching him this week?" with a little smirk. You already knew he was. Well, him and Hondo both were.

She played with the container of sugar and didn't meet your eyes as she said, "I think this week will make or break my relationship with Jake."

"Why?" you gasped.

She was quiet for a moment as she glanced out the window. "He practically begged me to let him help watch Jeremiah. So he and Uncle Bernie are sharing duties. I just... know how my uncle feels about Jake. They clash, and none of it is really Jake's fault. I just need to make some decisions when we get back."

Your stomach lurched. "What kind of decisions?"

She shrugged and poked her silverware. "If they can't get along, then I'll have to decide if I can reasonably keep putting everyone through this. I'll likely never be able to afford my own place, and Bernie is the only family I still talk to. But Jake...." She had a dreamy look in her eyes as she said, "I wasn't expecting to ever fall in love again."

The only thing you could think to say was, "He loves Jeremiah."

She didn't humor you with a response. Instead she asked, "Are you planning on seeing your parents while we're here?"

"Yeah," you answered as the food arrived. "About that... you mind if I use the car on Thursday evening? You're more than welcome to join me, but they want me to have dinner with them at home."

"You can use the car all you want," she replied. "And I'll think about it. Thanks." As you were coating your food in syrup, she asked, "Weren't Bradley's parents from Maryland as well?"

"Virginia," you replied immediately. "They were both from the Norfolk area. Nick grew up closer to the beach, and Carole grew up in the city." As you took a bite of pancake, your stomach growled awkwardly, but a warm thought lit up in your mind. "Hey, so you wouldn't mind too much if I actually used the car today?"

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Bradley was in the air all day on Tuesday, and he kept looking at his little collection of photos longingly. He had one of you from when the two of you were dating. You were mid laugh, face lit up, looking right at him. And then he had a wedding photo as well. It was the one the photographer took where the sun was just hitting the horizon behind you. And now he also had a little stack of ultrasound pictures to look at.

When his comms crackled to life, he tucked the photos away and got himself in position for some tactical dog fighting with Nat and Bob. Bradley loved flying, but more and more he had been considering what might come next for him. One day he could get injured or fail an eye exam. Then what? Other than being home with you and the nugget at that point, he didn't know what else the Navy could offer him.

"Tally, tally!" Bob called out, and Bradley easily dodged the attack. He knew he was good. He knew he was the right mix of cautious and impulsive. He had to be. But there also needed to be more, because if this week was teaching him anything, it was that too many long deployments away from his family would be unbearable.

When he finally touched down on the runway at 2:30, he was hungry and thirsty, and Maverick dismissed him to the rec room along with Nat and Bob. When he checked his phone, he had a bunch of missed calls and texts from you.

"Hey, you go ahead," he told them. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Alright," Bob replied, and Bradley watched them walk inside the tower while he read your most recent message.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I have a little surprise for you. Any chance you can facetime?

He had no idea what you could have in mind for him. A little surprise could be anything. Shit, it could be dirty. He glanced around before tucking himself up against the side of the building with his aviators perched on his nose. He dropped his helmet gently to the ground and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair as he called you.

"Bradley!"

Your gorgeous face filled his phone screen, and he smiled immediately. "Hey, Sweetheart. You look pretty."

"Thank you. I feel good today."

"How's the nugget?"

You laughed. "As finicky as ever."

You were obviously outside somewhere, and the sky was cloudy behind you as you walked past some trees. "Where are you? And what's my surprise?"

You bit your lip and looked between the phone screen and something else before you knelt down on the ground. "I just had this silly idea earlier when I was eating breakfast." You tilted the phone away from your face, and then Bradley knew exactly where you were. "But I thought we could tell them the news together? Let them be the first to know?"

He pulled his sunglasses from his face and stared at his phone screen as tears blurred his vision. "Baby Girl," he gasped as he looked at his parents' gravesite. Both headstones were decorated with fresh flowers which you must have just placed there today, and you had tucked an ultrasound photo underneath a few pebbles as well.

"Do you want to tell them?" you asked, your voice just the softest whisper that made him ache even more.

"Yeah," he managed to say as he fought to keep his composure as a tear slid down his cheek. "Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. That's not just my perfect wife sitting there with you. That's your grandchild, too."

He could hear you laughing and crying at the same time as you rearranged the pebbles. "Still just a nugget right now, but we'll bring him or her back again someday. Right, Roo?" you asked, turning the phone back to your gorgeous face.

Bradley nodded as he sobbed. "Yeah," he rasped as you smiled at him and swiped at your own tears. "Of course. The three of us will come back together. We can have a picnic. Let the kiddo meet Grandma Carole and Grampy Goose."

"That sounds perfect."

"Hey, Sweetheart?" he managed as he cried. "I fucking love you so much. You know that, right?"

Your voice was still soft, and Bradley wanted to melt into it. "Yeah. I know."

He wiped his cheeks with the rough sleeve of his flight suit as he asked, "You really drove three and a half hours from Annapolis to the cemetery?"

You curled up on your side next to the ultrasound photo as you said, "Yeah. It seemed like a no-brainer. I thought they should be the first ones to know."

"Fuck." He had to fight for composure. "I would marry you a hundred times. A thousand times. I would marry you a million fucking times, Sweetheart."

You laughed softly. "I'd let you."

Those were some of the sweetest words Bradley had ever heard in his life, and you said them as you and the baby were curled up there with the memory of his mom and dad. He would literally never get over how perfect you really were.

Then you popped up and groaned, "Oh no." And Bradley was treated to the vivid facetime experience of watching you run a few feet to your left before you threw up in the shrubs.

"Take some deep breaths," he coaxed, just like he would if you were in the bathroom at home. "Do you have some water and the ginger candy with you?"

"In the rental car," you told him as you set your phone on the ground. "I was doing so well today, too."

He didn't want to say it, but he knew this meant the baby was nice and healthy. "Why don't you curl up with Carole again, Baby Girl. She told me she threw up non-stop when she was pregnant. I'm sure she can commiserate."

"Actually, I think I will," you told him when you picked up the phone once again. "I'm going to hang out with my in-laws a little longer. Have a chat about how much I adore their son. Maybe get their opinion on some baby names."

He laughed. "Don't let them talk you into Bradley Junior."

You shook your head adamantly. "I'd sooner allow you to name the nugget Bronco."

"Hell yes!" he cheered. "Bronco Bradshaw is still on the table."

You cradled your forehead in your hand, but you were smiling. "Get back to work while the nugget and I spend some time with your mom and dad."

"I love you more than life itself, Baby Girl."

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She treats him so well. Fuck, this even made me tear up a little bit. Grandma Carole and Grampy Goose would have been the best. Next we will find out what kind of trouble awaits in Maryland. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 33

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itsprashimusic · 4 months

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A Barnes Birthday

Summary - You are celebrating baby barnes' birthday, which is on the same day as your husband's birthday.

Pairings - Bucky Barnes x wife!Reader

W/C - 1.3k

Warnings - fluff, little cussing...i think, no use of y/n, your baby's name is not mentioned, neither is there any description of you or the baby. let me know if i missed anything. Happy reading<3

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At around 4 am you awoke, bursting with excitement. It was your baby's first birthday. And also, one of your husband's. It was difficult for you to fall asleep in the first place, so you thought you might as well get up from your light, restless sleep and get things ready for the day.

Knowing Bucky, he would most likely be knocked out asleep by now and wouldn't wake up till around 8:30 - 9 am. Normally your husband tends to be a light sleeper, but off late he has been sleeping like a log and you hope that carries on to tonight as well. You prayed to the universe he would not wake up when you silently moved out of bed.

First things first you freshened up, ate a quick meal and started decorating the house. Thankfully earlier in the day your baby managed to exhaust himself to a point where he would sleep the whole night without waking up once. You got streamers and balloons out of a box. Some easy to clean up confetti. You gritted your teeth as you tried to move the heavy couch around. You strong husband would have been useful here if this wasn't for his birthday.

You gave up on trying to blow the balloons and decided to bake the cake to get rid of some steam. Figuring out what Bucky would like was not that hard. Ever since Oreo came out, he has absolutely loved it. And with oreo having so many variations now-a-days than just biscuits, it's been the only thing Bucky eats when he wants a snack. Not the healthiest option but the man likes it and needs to eat.

You found a very simple oreo cake that you could make. You got started on making it. Flour, milk, butter, oreo biscuits obviously. By around 6 am the cake was in the oven getting ready. With nothing left to do, you got back to decorating. But there was an issue. You still needed to move the couch to another location.

At that exact moment your phone started ringing loudly. You ran to the kitchen and answered it, mentally kicking yourself for putting in on vibrate. You just hoped Bucky had not woken up. Thankfully he had not. Putting the phone to your ear you whispered-yelled into it, "What?!"

"I get it that you forgot to put your phone on silent?" Sam chuckled on the other side of the line. You blew an irritated breath out as you rolled your eyes. "Yes, I did. You need something Sam, cuz I'm kinda busy with trying to move my heavy ass couch."

"How about you open the door first and then we can figure out if I need something."

You moved from the kitchen to the front door and opened it to reveal a smirking Sam Wilson on the other side. You lowered the phone from your ear, cutting the call. "You son of a-" you say shaking your head a bit, a smile making it way onto your face. You both go in for a quick hug and you invite him inside. Not that he needed the invitation. He practically lived there at this point.

"What are you doing here at this ridiculous hour in the morning?"

"Helping you prepare for a double-birthday party." You didn't know how any man could be as generous as Sam Wilson. It was just a little past 6 in the morning and here he was in your house ready to lend a helping hand in getting your home ready for a birthday party. You smiled a grateful smile and told him about the couch and where you needed help in moving it. He hung his jacket on the coat hanger and got to helping you with whatever you needed.

You left in the middle to bring the cake out of the oven and let it cool. By that time the couch was moved along with some more furniture, balloons were hung and so were some streamers. With the extra help you were able to have the house decorated by 7 am with snacks and everything else ready. That was when you heard some cries coming from the bedroom. Realising that your son was awake, you quickly headed to the room to sooth him before Bucky woke up with the sound.

Bucky was dead asleep. A small part of you was worried with how deep his sleep was, but you knew it meant he was sleeping peacefully. "Hi my baby!" you greeted your son with a soft voice. "You're awake, yes. It's your first birthday." you said while cuddling him. He needed that after he woke up. His cries died down; he was wide awake and cheery. "Yes, its papa's birthday too. We'll wish him later, first let's get you ready for this double birthday."

You got to work bathing him and dressing him up in some adorable but comfortable clothes which would be easy to clean. Sam had headed back to his place to freshen up a bit before your son woke up. It was now past 8 am and you were getting dangerously close to when Bucky would wake up. You took 20 minutes for yourself to look presentable since there would be photos.

Bucky woke up just as you finished changing your clothes. "Doll?" he called out when you weren't found in his sight. "Coming." you replied and walked out of the closet he had built for you. Before fatherhood, Bucky had a big passion for construction. It kept him busy, allowed him do something for you and learn some new skills in the process.

"Happy birthday honey." you say with a smile. "How old are you turning today?" you joke, tilting your head to the side. He opened his arms and pulled you in for a hug. "Ha ha very funny. But thank you." saying the first part with mock annoyance, he pulled away and just stared at you for a good 10 seconds before he asked, "Where's the little one?" You said nothing and just smiled, gesturing him to follow you.

You jogged out of the room making him chase after you. You pick up your son who was waiting with Sam in the living room and stood there waiting for your husband. He walked in and Sam set off a confetti popper in his face which surprised for a second but then he hugged Sam. Bucky pulled back, looked around and then at you holding your son. You took the baby out of your arms and kissed him all over his tiny adorable face.

Bucky wasn't a man of many words and preferred to show his gratitude in actions rather than words. He pulled you close and just kissed the top of your head. You left his side when Sam came closer, "Happy birthday man, and happy birthday little man!" You then came out of the kitchen with the cake and lit candles and set it down on the table. In the moment Bucky couldn't be any more grateful for his little family. You, his son and Sam. They were his motivation for everything he did.

The candles were blown out and the cake was cut and fed to everyone. Your son got to devourer whatever cake was left on an already dirty towel laid on the floor. Sam played the role of a photographer for free, only because it was his nephew's birthday.

"it's been a year already." you say.

"Time flies fast, no?" he held you by his side as you both watch lovingly as Sam plays with your son. Bucky still remembers the time when you were pregnant with him, the random cravings you would have and the mood swings from time to time. There were a few hellish moments, but they were all worth it. Reminiscing about the past only made you more appreciate the present moments even more and anticipate the future.

"Happy birthday once again J."

Bucky didn't reply. But he did kiss you deeply.

A/N - this has been sitting in my drafts since 2022😐 I wanted to get this out. It started as a random idea which took me forever to write. Hope you enjoyed reading.

If you want to find out more about me or my works, you can head to my navigation.

#itsprashimusic #a barnes birthday fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x wife!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x woc!reader #bucky barnes x desi!reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff

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justlemmeadoreyou · 6 months

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a misfortune | (mechanic!harry part 1)

Okay, so here is my version of the grumpy!harry x sunshine!yn trope. I had midterms so this got a bit late! Sorry! I don't rhink you waited for my shitty writing, but here it is (forcefully)

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Summary: Harry is a grumpy asshole, but he is also a mechanic that you are in desperate need of. Sunshine!reader x Grumpy! harry trope

Word Count: ~2k

8 hours.

That's how long you've been in the backseat of your car, and chewing on your already swollen nails. All your belongings, from clothes to your oversized makeup bag, toiletries, blankets, bedsheets, and even your electronic gadgets, are crammed beside you on the backseat. Your life has spiraled into chaos because your landlord has kicked you out.

Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you recall the moments that have led you to this bleak situation. It isn't fair, which is something you think. That isn't true though. You haven't paid your proper rent in nearly six months, frequently stumbling home at obnoxious hours, blasting loud music when you were drunk and high, and you hadn't even bothered to check the 15-day eviction notice that arrived almost 20 days ago. So, yes, your landlord had every right to kick you out.

You were irresponsible, reckless, and didn't give two cares until you became homeless. With your car serving as an unwelcome shelter, you realize you should have been more responsible. You should have cared more about your living situation before it all came crashing down on you. If only you had taken your life more seriously, you wouldn't be stuck in your car on this cold, lonely night.

It was the beginning of November, and you had so many plans about decorating your small apartment. You had fetched out the Christmas lights too, planning on hanging them out the following weekend. The memory of those festive plans, the warmth of the holiday spirit, now feels like a distant dream.

You wipe away your tears, but they keep flowing. You shift some of your stuff down on the floor of the car to make some space to sleep in. You curl up into yourself in the small space, and after a few more tears, you're finally asleep.

You're woken by harsh knocks on your window. You try to open your eyes, but the sunlight pouring in through the window is so blinding that you have to squint and shield your face with your hand.

It's a man, who looks angry at you. You roll down the window a bit so you can hear what he's saying.

“Could you move your car out of here, please?”

You rub your eyes and finally get a look at your surroundings, and you see that you've basically parked at the entrance of a house.

“Yeah-yeah. I will. Sorry,” you grunt with a raspy voice, and he goes back inside.

You quickly fix your clothes and your hair, and grabbed the car keys from your pocket. Opening the door, you got out of the backseat and got back out front.

Pushing the key in, you turned it, but the engine didn’t start. You tried it again and again, biut all in vain.

Great.

Just fucking great.

Now even your car had given up on you.

You felt like crying all over again, this was all so heartbreaking. You had to get the car checked almost two months ago, when the check engine light had started to blink first.

You pulled out your phone and searched for a nearby garage. Hopefully, there was one that was 2 blocks away. But that meant you wouyld have to push your car two blocks.

You could also call a tow service, but that would take money, and money was something you were running short on.

With a loud sigh, you switched the handbrake on, and got out of the car.

Rolling up your sleeves, you started to push it. The car was so heavy, and you managed a good 200 meters, before you were sweating profusely, and almost gave up, putting your hands on your knees and breathing loudly.

A kind man offered to help, and thank lord he did. With lots of struggle and a good 15 minutes, you were finally able to reach the garage.

Quick Fix Auto

You read the garage name, before lockiong your car and walking in. It was still 8 pm, so you doubted getting any help at this hour.

“Hello?”

You called out tentatively as you entered the garage and walked further into the shop, past the cars and vehicles scattered out front. Hopefully, a second voice would call you back, or you would have had to wait for someone to come in.

“Yeah, I’m a bit busy. Be out in a minute,” the voice replied. It sounded British and thickly laced with an accent. You couldn't help but think that now a gorgeous British guy would see your horrible car, which was also your home, all wrecked up and messed up due to negligence. Bonus points to you for not even washing your face after waking up.

You briefly contemplated running away and finding another garage with an old mechanic. However, you realized you physically wouldn't have been able to do that. So, you took a deep breath, preparing to face the embarrassment and potential humiliation.

After a few moments, he came out, and boy, was he gorgeous. A white headband held his thick hair back, and below that was a beautifully shaped face with green eyes. His tan hands were covered in a bit of grease, and he had tools hanging from his upturned waistband.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and you gulped hard, snapping back to reality from admiring his physique. Boy, was he pretty.

“Oh, um... I tried to start my car this morning, but it won’t start.”

“And what’s the issue? The battery is out, fuel is down?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I came here.”

“Jeez, your breath smells terrible. Alright, let me have a look at it. Keys?”

He extended his hand to take your keys while looking into your eyes. You squinted at him for his rude remark, then handed him the keys.

“You don’t have to be so rude, you know.”

He kept walking, ignoring your comment. As he reached your car, he stopped in his tracks when he saw your belongings inside it. He turned back to look at you, and you frowned. Eye bags, dark circles under your eyes, a sad face, and you hadn't even washed your face; you had to rush to get your car fixed. You were in bad shape.

He decided to draw a line and not throw questions at you. He opened your car and took a look inside, noticing that the check engine light was on.

“How long has this been on for?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, about... 2 months?”

He slumped his shoulders and came back out, walking to yhe front and opening the hood of the car. As soon as it went up, a big cloud of smoke escaped.

“Fuck. What did you do?”

He coughed a bit, taking a step back to let the smoke dissipate. You felt even more humiliated than before, but he seemed more focused on the issue with your car than making further remarks about your condition.

“Alright. So, this is not going to get fixed in a short while. It’s going to take atlest 2 days.”

“No! Where will I live?”

You exclaimed loudly, and his eyes widened.

You could book a hotel?”

“I don’t have money.”

“A motel?”

“How will I reach one? Most of them are out of town.”

“Right, so you could still sleep in it at night, but I lock the garage at 11. So, you will have to park it outside.”

She nodded her head, and he still felt bad for her.

“I’m Harry, by the way”

He extended the same grease-stained hand again, and she complied, shaking hands with him.

"I'm Yn." she said.

"There’s a bathroom at the back. You can clean up there if you want to. My staff comes in at 9, so you still have about half an hour."

She smiled at his kind offer. He might be rude and grumpy, but he wasn't a bad person.

"Thank you, Harry. I really appreciate it."

"Oh that's okay. But, you do have money to pay for your car, right?"

You did a quick calculation in your mind, and quickly came to the conclusion that you didn't have even that money.

"No, but- listen to me! My payday is here, so I'm gonna get paid soon. I have to buy few supplies first, and then I promise I will pay you as soon as possible. I'll borrow money from my friends."

"As long as I get paid, I don't care where you get the money from."

And the grumpiness was back.

"Okay! Can I go in?"

"Sure. Be my guest."

You got some stuff from the car and went inside the garage. walking all the way to the back, and finding the washroom. You locked the door and cleaned yourself up.

Meanwhile, Harry took a look at your car.

It was in a bad condition. it hadn't been serviced in over two years, and the engine oil hadn't been replaced in so long. The battery was old too. A lot of work had to be done. and he had no idea how he would manage when you literally lived in the car.

Meanwhile, you were happy to have gotten a place to brush and bathe. Initially, you thought you would have to go to a cafe or restaurant, and brushing and bathing there would’ve been embarrassing. Even though embarrassment and humiliation were your best friends now.

You walked out in clean clothes a while later. and saw your car standing at the same place, with no sign of Harry. You searched for him again, and found him at the back, working on the same car he had been in when you had arrived.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Why aren't you working on my car?"

He slid out from the bottom of the car, before replying, "I have other jobs too. First come, first serve. Plus, this one paid me in advance."

You frowned and flared at his words, and decided to deal with him later.

"So, can I take it, then? I have to go to work."

"No, I will work on it in the afternoon."

"Then how the hell am I supposed to reach work?"

"Many options, by foot, take the bus, order an Uber, Oh! Sorry! I forgot you didn't have money."

He mocked you once again, and this time, you seriously wanted to punch him across the face. Maybe you would, once your car was done. But right now, you have priorities.

"Alright, fine. But my stuff is in the car."

"Chill. Nobody's gonna take it. They might give things to you, though."

You rolled your eyes again, and went back to your car. Why did he have to be such a dick?

Gathering your bag, you stuffed your valuables, leaving only clothes and heavy articles behind. You shifted it to one corner, and draped a huge sheet to cover it.

"Okay, I'm leaving."

And once again, that grumpy asshole ignored you.

(next part)

divider by @firefly-graphics

okay, sorry if this sucked, i really don't know how to write l literally finished this at 2am, so really really sorry

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @whoreonmondays @avalentina

let me know if you want to be added or removed!

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writerslittlelibrary · 5 months

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I'm your mother now, chapter 7

masterlist series masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

summary: Yelena is there to save you, but isn't it them you needed saving from?

pairing: Dark!Natasha x teen reader,

warnings: yelling, a lot of swearing, dark themes, kinda evil Natasha, translated Russian

genre: angst

words: 1961

a/n: chapter 7 is finally here!!! I really need to get more consistent in writing… anyway, I hope you enjoy🫶

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

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You had been sitting in that room for hours, the phone call with Yelena long forgotten as you waited patiently. Yelena said she would come fix it, and you trusted her.

It was exactly 18.00 (6 pm), or so the clock on the phone said when you heard yelling outside the room. You heard a few gunshots, and you ducked under the table as you held your hands over your ears. Your entire body shook with fear as the gunshots drew closer, and soon enough the door to the room you were in opened.

There stood Natasha, gun in hand and a smile on her face. She ran towards you, getting on her knees next to the table and loving the fact you scrambled towards her, throwing yourself in her arms as you sobbed.

Natasha smiled as she hugged you closer, rubbing her hand over your back soothingly. “I love you,” you sobbed out, and Natasha simply beamed with joy.

This day has been incredibly stressful for you, and turns out Yelena was right. Something as simple as having a woman recognise you, would make you realize that leaving was not at all what you wanted. You were loved and safe, and Natasha would always protect you.

Their plan had worked, and you were finally able to admit to Natasha, and yourself, that you didn't want to leave.

Natasha would keep you safe. Natasha would love you. Natasha would protect you.

After sobbing in her arms for a few minutes, Natasha made a move to get up, but you wouldn't let her go. “Please don't leave again,” you begged, and Natasha smiled as you cried.

"I am never leaving you again, Malysh,” Natasha told you, and you nodded the best you could. "Promise?” you asked her in a quiet voice. "I promise,” Natasha confirmed.

"Now come on, time to go. We should leave this police station before reinforcements come,” Natasha explained, standing up and dragging you along with her. You kept your arms tightly around her waist, and Natasha rubbed your back with one hand while she used her other to operate her gun.

Outside of the room it was all a blur. You could hear screaming and gunfire as Natasha led you rough the hall.

When you finally made it outside, a car was already there. Natasha opened the back door for you and helped you get in, she herself joined you on the backseat. There was a woman already in the car, and she sat behind the wheel, waiting for Natasha to close the door.

The moment Natasha closed the door, the woman stepped on the gas, driving away from all the gunfire and commotion.

It didn't take long before you fell asleep, Natasha holding you close as your eyes shut and sleep consumed you. Everything that happened exhausted you, and now you were finally safe and cared for you could finally fall asleep.

After arriving back at the house, something you didn't even notice, Natasha carried you up to your room, the woman who drove the car following her.

After you were settled in bed, Natasha kissed your forehead before going with the woman to the kitchen, planning some things out for the upcoming weeks. Natasha wanted to do so many things with you, but she knew that even though this arrest had been an act, people were actually looking for you, and taking you around could cause suspicion.

And so, together with the woman, she planned it out, transferring your identity over to a girl that already passed. The girl looked similar to you enough, and all Natasha had to do was transfer your DNA to hers, so if she got tested, it would seem as though it was you.

This was all online however, and involved a lot of hacking of medical files and information, hence why she had invited her friend.

Eventually, everything was settled, and the DNA in your medical files matched the DNA of the dead girl. When the girl would be found, they'd test her DNA, compare it with your already existing medical information and draw the conclusion that the dead girl, is indeed, you.

If that was all over, Natasha would finally be able to take you outside without people suspecting her. She could take you anywhere in the world.

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The next morning, when you woke up, you were confused to say the least. You were pretty much out of it, and it took you a while to remember the events of yesterday.

Natasha came for you. Natasha had brought you home…

After a few minutes, your drowsy state left and you got up, surprised to not have been wollen by Natasha. What about your bath? After brushing your teeth you went downstairs, determined to find Natasha and the reason for your lonely awakening.

When you got downstairs, you found Natasha in the kitchen, the woman from yesterday sitting at the counter chatting with her. The moment you got spotted, the woman closed her laptop quickly, obviously hiding something from you. You didn't really care, instead walking to Natasha and hugging.

"Good morning malysh. Did you sleep well?” You nodded and hugged her tighter. After yesterday, You never wanted to let her go again.

Natasha smiled at your actions, giving you a tight squeeze before letting go.

"Sit down, I have breakfast for you,” Natasha stated as she reached for a plate on the counter. It was filled with eggs and toast, and after you sat down she put it in front of you.

"We'll do bath time tonight,” she simply said as she sat down as well.

"Y/n, I'd like you to meet Maria,” Natasha then said as she gestured for the other woman at the kitchen counter. "Maria is here to help me with some business. We don't want what happened Yesterday to happen again,” Natasha explained, and you nodded as you gave Maria a smile.

Maria smiled back, before getting up and walking to the couches, grabbing the large bag on top of it.

"I heard you liked gifts,” she simply said as she walked back, putting the large bag on the counter. Your eyes lit up, and your breakfast was almost forgotten, until Natasha reminded you.

"Finish your breakfast first. Then you can open the gifts,” Natasha ordered, and you nodded with a smile as you continued eating. You were quick to finish your breakfast, eager to open the gifts Maria had brought.

Once you were done, Natasha took your plate away as Maria pushed the bay of gifts your way.

You took the bag and thanked her, looking at Natasha as you waited for permission to open the bag. Natasha gave you a little nod with a smile, and you took the gifts from the bag. Each of them were wrapped in wrapping paper of your favourite colour.

There were three boxes total. One was heavy and big, while the other two looked more like cd's. You opened the biggest gift first, your mouth falling open as you noticed the Nintendo switch console.

You smiled widely and quickly got rid of the excess wrapping paper, setting the box down on the counter.

"Oh my god,” you exclaimed, giving Maria a huge smile as you went to take the Nintendo switch out of the box. "I can't believe it, thank you,” you told Maria.

After you'd unpacked the console, you grabbed the two smaller presents, opening them to find your favorite game and Mario Kart. .

'Thank you, thank you, thank you,” You exclaimed excitedly as you got the games out of the box, putting them in a case that was provided with the Switch. "Can I please go play mama?” you asked Natasha, giving her the best puppy dog eyes you could.

"Of course you can, my love,” Natasha told you, stroking your hair. "Go sit in the living room.”

You happily took your place in the living room, plopping down on one of the couches and starting your game. You had no idea how long you played for, and eventually Maria came to wish you goodbye, and you told her yet again how grateful you were.

Natasha had brought you lunch, and surprisingly she had not told you once to put your game away. Instead, she just sat down next to you, reading a book while you leaned against her.

When it was time for dinner, Natasha had told you to go sit at the kitchen counter, something you happily did after playing your game for so long.

After dinner, Natasha had told you no more games, as she claimed it would be harder for you to fall asleep. You didn't mind, content with the idea Natasha presented of finally giving you your bath.

You two went upstairs and you picked out your pajamas as Natasha set up your bath.

Once you were in, Natasha carefully washed your hair as she hummed a song. You were quiet and contently listened to her humming as you ran your hand through the bubbles and played with them a little.

"Thank you for coming to get me,” You suddenly said, and Natasha stopped rinsing your hair for a second before continuing.

"I will always come to safe my baby,” Natasha told you as she leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your cheek.

"I love you mama,” you told her, and it was impossible for Natasha to fight off the smile that was forming on her face. "I love you too, Malysh.”

After your bath, Natasha put you to bed, tucking you in with your two stuffed animals as she gently stroked your hair. "Goodnight my little love,” Natasha told you with a smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

"What if they come to get me?” you asked Natasha scared, yet Natasha just smiled reassuringly.

"No one will come to get you. Mama will fight them all off for you,” Natasha told you, and even though you nodded, you weren't convinced.

"Will you stay with me mama?” you asked her oh so sweetly, how could Natasha ever deny. She got herself ready for bed quickly before crawling next to you, allowing you to snuggle close to her.

Once you were all nice and comfy, Natasha started stroking your back, hoping for you to fall asleep faster.

"I never want to leave you mama…” you told her, your voice laced with sleep.

"You never will…”

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Together with Maria, Natasha had made sure the body of a dead girl would be found closely to where you had gone missing.

Police had quickly moved in, fishing the body from the river and getting it to a hospital. It was clear the girl had been dead for days, and when a doctor took some DNA samples and typed them into the system, your file showed up.

You were dead. You had been murdered.

As the body was cleaned and an autopsy had been performed, the cause of death had been a stab wound, which afterwards ‘you’ were thrown into the river.

‘You’ had been death before ‘your’ body hit the water, and ‘you’ hadn't suffered.

After ‘your’ funeral, the discovery of ‘your’ body had made the news, and every news channel was talking about it.

Natasha got an alert on her phone, opening the news article and reading about ‘your’ death. She smiled to herself. She had won. Natasha had finally won. You were hers. You were her child, her daughter, and no one would ever be able to take you away from her ever again.

Natasha pulled you closer, kissing your forehead and stroking your hair.

“You’re my little daughter, my little child. I’ll love you forever,” she promised, as she soon joined your peaceful slumber.

chapter 8

tag list: @carol-romanoff @natsxwife @simp-erformarvelwomen @clintsbigtoe @olsenmyolsen @leenasayeed @naslt @dvrkhcld @nova-kyle @wandanatsbaby @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid @cherlenovix @mrsromanovaa @wandanatsgirl @screechcat @a-spes

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0

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manmuncher777 · 8 months

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Mornings|John Price Smut

a/n - once again i want to say a huge thankyou for all of the love on my posts. it means a lot. i’m surprised i’ve been able to produce so much work at the moment, and it might slow down within the coming days. but PLEASE feel free to send me ideas. i love writing someone else’s thoughts.

Warnings - smut, oral fem receiving, pet names, v light overstimulation, fem reader

You hated mornings, you honestly couldn't stand them, if it were possible you would sleep all day and be awake at night. Mornings always made you feel shit, that was until you met John Price, to say he made them a little bit better would be an understatement.

So there he was. 8:37 in the morning, eating you out like a starved man. Head under your white linnen covers as he gets to work. His tongue twisted and turned through your folds as your hands had a grip on his short tufts of hair. His huge hands on either sides of your hips, keeping you still in the position of his liking so he could really get his job done. See John didn't mind mornings, he didn't see anything wrong with them, his time the military always caused him to be awake super early and he didn't always sleep easy, he would often find himself staring at you in the morining, admiring you for hours while you slept, he would watch your chest raise and fall with every breath, always checking you were real, and that you were ok.

soemtimes he didn't want to take his eyes off of you incase you might dissapear and leave his grasp forver

He knew how much you hated mornings, so sometimes John liked to give you something nice to wake up to. The fact that he enjoyed it as well was just a bonus.

"John, Fuck!" you moaned out as your back arched off of the bed, your voice strained as it was the first time it was being used that morning. The goosebumps rising on your skin caused you whole body to shiver, the pleasure tingling all the way up your spine

he was completely under the covers, his hands on either sides of your hips using them as anchors to pull himself further into your pussy, his nose bumping your clit with each movement. Everything was so intense, feeling all of this at once as soon as you had woken up had tears already springing in your eyes.

John had you sprawled out on the bed, legs draped over his shoulders as your hair is all over place and your hands searching for something to grip, the bedding beside your head wasn’t cutting it. That was the only negative of John being under the s was that could couldn’t pull on his hair, something you enjoyed. And so did he.

You also didn’t get to have his gorgeous eyes staring up at you while he ate you like he was your last meal, it made the moment that much better

You take all your concentration into sitting up far enough to push the covers onto the floor, deciding you much preferred it when you would actually see your husband.

“happy to see me sweetheart?” he mocks, smirking as you feel relieved to be able to see his face

He didn’t even give you a second to respond before diving straight back in, his tongue eagerly lapping at your folds, before moving slightly further down the fuck your with his tongue and let his nose do the work on your clit, after all he knew how much you liked that. John knew everything that just made your body tick in the right way, he knew you inside out.

Your hands now happy with their new found home tugged in his dark hair causing him to groan into you, the vibrations only making the feeling more intense.

“oh God”

“not God, just John sweetheart”

If he wasn’t making you feel like your body was on fire in the best way possible, you would’ve slapped him on the back of the head for being a smart ass. But seeing as the only thing you could say was his name and a string of curses, you weren’t exactly in a position to be talking back

Your hips were grinding into his face as you could feel yourself getting closer to that point of release and he could tell too. his focussed on your clit, his tongue flicking over the bundle of never as he sucked on it. he knew it was working but the squeals you were letting out

”John- i’m so close’

“i know, i know sweetheart. cmon now, give it to me”

he needed it, he needed it just as much as you did. that thought sent you over the edge

the only thing coming from you mouth was John’s name as you sung his praise. only he could make you feel this good.

he didn’t stop, he helped you ride out your high, he wasn’t finished until he had drunk you all in and you were pushing his head from overstimulation.

“well good morning to you too” you said, after finally catching your breath

#captain john price #cod smut #john price smut #john price x reader #cod fanfic

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kaziwi · 10 months

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Accidentally holding his hand <3

Character(s): Zoro

WC: 667

Summary: You have to go looking for Zoro after he goes wandering in the woods

Note: i love zoro sm omg

It was around noon when you and your crew, the strawhats, arrived at a new island.

Everyone decided to go explore while you, Zoro, and Usopp stay behind and watch the ship. Nami made sure to tell you and Usopp to watch Zoro and not let him wander at all costs. You both assured her you wouldn't let him out of your sights....

You were feeling a little drained, so you told the two boys that you were going to take a short nap :P

A short nap turned into 3 hours....whoops 8)

You woke up to the sounds of Usopp panicking.

You went on deck and asked him what was wrong. He explained in a panic that shortly after you fell asleep, Zoro insisted on going on a walk.

Usopp tried to warn him against it, knowing Zoro would get lost, but Zoro brushed him off and went anyways. That was 3 hours ago, and Zoro could be who knows where.

You told Usopp that you would go in the forest and get him back before anyone (Nami specifically) realized he was gone.

You walked on a dirt path yelling Zoro's name throughout the forest. As you went deeper and deeper into the woods, it started to get more dark and scary. You wrapped your arms around yourself in a sorta self-hug and continued to call out for Zoro. Every small sound made you jump which caused you to walk even faster and not look where you were going.

You swore you heard something so you turned to look at your right, but kept walking forward...causing you to trip over something. You turned and looked over at what you tripped over, and it seemed to be...a leg???? Your eyes followed the leg up to the owners face, and it turns out the leg you tripped over was a sleeping Zoro's.

"Zoro! I've been looking for you for forever," you shout at him, playfully hitting him on the shoulder. Zoro cracks one eye open and looks at you.

"Oi (Y/N), what are you doing here?"

"LOOKING FOR YOU!!!"

After a bit of bickering, you were able to get Zoro up and started to lead him back to the Sunny. Your walk through the forest was far from pleasant as the small sounds and dark atmosphere started to get to you again. You jumped at the slightest sound, which didn't go unnoticed by Zoro.

Just then, a rustle came from the bush beside you, and you jumped towards Zoro, grabbing his hand in the process. Zoro was shocked by the sudden touch that it caused him to stumble back, causing you to both fall on the forest floor.

Out from the bush a small bunny crawled out and then scurried away. You both watched it run away before Zoro started laughing, "You were really scared of that little thing," he said in between laughs. You playfully hit him and you both got up, not letting go of each others hands.

You both kinda stared at each other awkwardly after that until he said, "So...are you gonna let go of my hand?"

You looked down at your intertwined hands and your face became red. Zoro smirked at this, but when you started to pull your hand away, he grabbed it even firmer.

"Actually....it might be better if you hold on to me, just so I don't wander off again," Zoro said with a slight pink to his cheeks.

The walk back started a bit awkward, but after a little you both got used to each others touch and walked with ease. The small sounds of the forest didn't bother you anymore because you knew Zoro was there to protect you. By the time you got back 2 hours had already passed, and as you approached the ship you could hear a angry Nami yelling at Usopp. You and Zoro both knew you were going to face her rath, but honestly you didn't care as your hands stayed locked.

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heavyhitterheaux · 7 months

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Garden

Based off the song by Dua Lipa

Synopsis: You want to spend more time with your boyfriend, but find that the two of you are drifting apart. It isn't until he almost loses you that he realizes what he has in front of him

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Requested by: an amazing anon 💕

Jack Harlow Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It was dark outside when you had woken up from being startled because of Jack moving around your shared bedroom. You had been waiting for him to come home since he had been gone all day, but your eyes began to get heavy around midnight and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand to look to see what the time it was and it was 3:36 in the morning when Jack had promised you that he would be home no later than 8 PM.

"Babe? Are you just now getting home?" You softly asked as he began to take off his sweatshirt.

"Shit. I didn't mean to wake you up. Things just ran over a little bit." He threw it across the room and it landed in the hamper perfectly while you sat up to plug your phone into the charger.

"A little bit? You were supposed to be back at 8 PM LAST NIGHT. It is now 3 in the morning. Did you eat anything? How much water did you drink today? I don't want you getting headaches like you were before."

"Y/N, I'm not doing this with you right now. I need to go to sleep because I need to leave by 9."

"I… I'm just worried about you. I need you to slow down and take a break once in a while. I planned for us to do something around 5. Do you think you'll be done by then?" You asked as Jack has gotten in the bed to lay down next to you and pulled the comforter over himself.

"What are you worried about me for? I'm fine. Don't I need to keep a roof over your head? So let me do what I need to do since you're always asking me for expensive ass shit."

"Really? I'm worried because my boyfriend is a workaholic and a people pleaser that doesn't know how to say no sometimes and his girlfriend would like to spend more time with him."

"When things slow down, I will. I promise, but I can't let up now."

"What about meeting up with me at 5? Just us for a date."

"I'm not about to tell you yes and then I get busy and not show up because that will cause a whole new issue."

"I just don't get why you’re being so defensive about me wanting to spend time with you. Don't blame it on you being busy because when your second album came out you still made me a priority despite everything going on around you."

All Jack did was sigh and roll his eyes which you quickly caught on to.

"Y/N, I'm only going to get five hours of sleep and arguing with you is cutting into that. Can we just let it go and continue it later?"

"Seriously? And when is later because I never see you."

All Jack did was throw the comforter away from him and hop up out of the bed.

"Baby, where are you going?"

"To the guest room to get some fucking sleep since I'm clearly not going to get it in here."

"I… come on don't be like that. I just…."

"I'll probably be gone by the time you wake up." Jack muttered before making his way out of the bedroom and leaving you upset.

You waited about an hour or so before going to peek in on Jack who was sound asleep. All you wanted at the very least was for him to sleep next to you and at least hold you, but it seems like nowadays that was asking for too much. You softly walked to the left side of the bed and crawled in next to him and he was startled by the movement.

"Y/N..." Jack started to say but you immediately cut him off.

"Can you at least hold me so I'll sleep better. I didn't come in here to argue. I just want you close to me."

All he did was raise his left arm and you cuddled closer to him as he wrapped it around you and it almost seemed forced like he didn't want to do it.

"I love you, Jack." You whispered to him, but all you got were his soft snores in response letting you know that he had fallen back asleep.

You felt your eyes watering and the tears slowly ran down your face and you did your best to even your breathing so that you wouldn't wake him up again.

You just simply wanted your loving boyfriend back who would always spend time with you and never made you feel as if you were a burden.

When you woke up, just as he told you Jack was long gone and you simply let out a sigh. When he left early like that he would usually send you a text message that said good morning and how much he loved you, but you didn't know the last time he did that. You would usually send them and now they went unanswered.

You had some work to do yourself and had been working from home for the past few days. You couldn't quite put your finger on what it was that was bothering you besides the obvious with Jack, but you didn't feel 100%.

Hoping that a hot shower would help, you hung eucalyptus at the top of it to open you up so that you could breathe better and lost track of time of how long you had been in there.

Once finished, you got dressed and decided to bring your laptop to the living room in order to watch some movies for some background noise and order some food since you hadn't felt like cooking.

You nibbled at your food all day while you worked and when 5 PM came around of course Jack was nowhere to be found. You had sent a few texts throughout the day to ask how things were going and all he was doing was reading them and not responding, making you grow frustrated.

Around 10 PM, since you still didn't feel well, you made yourself a cup of ginger tea in hopes that would help and made your way upstairs to your room not even bothering to wait for Jack. It was clear that he didn't want to talk to you so you weren't about to force him.

When you woke up it was around 7 in the morning and you had felt worse than you did the night before. Jack wasn't next to you and you heard the shower running so you assumed that he was getting ready to go out and leave you by yourself…. Again.

Once he came out the shower, you couldn't help but to blurt it out.

"Baby, can you please stay home with me today?" You couldn't put your finger on as to why, but you didn't want to be by yourself.

"Y/N…. What is it now? Didn't we already talk about this?" He answered and had an immediate attitude.

"I just don't feel that well and want you to keep me company. It's just for a day. You can miss one day."

"What don't you get when I say that I have to provide for us? You saying that you don't feel good is just another excuse to try and get me to stay home and start an argument. You look fine to me and I can't believe you would pretend to be sick for me to stay."

"Just say you hate me and go." You muttered and stormed into the bathroom while locking the door behind you.

"Why would you even say that?! I don't hate you!"

You didn't bother responding and simply brushed your teeth and washed your face. You could hear him moving around the bedroom and once you heard his keys, you knew he was getting ready to leave despite your protests. All you could do was sigh and attempt to go on about your day.

By noon, you couldn't focus and no amount of medicine was helping you feel any better so you decided to get dressed and head to the grocery store in the hopes of getting ingredients to make some soup and hopefully you would be able to keep it down. You had gotten to the couch downstairs and were putting on your shoes when you suddenly felt lightheaded. You gave it a few minutes to let it pass before standing up. And once you did, your head immediately hit the floor.

Jack was in the studio and cursed to himself. Nothing had been going right that morning and be felt that it was low key his Karma for blowing you off.

"What's wrong?" Urban asked while seeing his frustration.

"Could you do me a favor and go to my condo to get a sample hard drive that I forgot? I don't want to see Y/N."

"Wait, what? Why? Are you two fighting again? You've been fighting a lot more than usual."

"I just don't want to deal with her right now."

All Urban did was sigh because he hated seeing the two of you at odds. He didn't want to get in the middle of it, so he didn't bother saying anything.

"Be right back."

When Urban walked through the door, he called out to you but when you didn't answer he was confused. Your car was still in the driveway and he could hear the television playing so he wasn't quite sure what was going on.

He walked further into the condo into the living room to discover you on the floor and not moving.

"SHIT! Y/N!" Urban said while rushing over towards you and trying to tap you to wake up.

"Come on, wake up!"

Nothing he was doing was working and he quickly pulled out his phone to dial 911.

"Hello 911, what is the address of your emergency?"

Jack was growing increasingly inpatient and was wondering where Urban was since it had been at least two hours since he left. His condo wasn't that far from the studio and he figures that you had coerced Urban into staying with you and gave him the same sorry excuse of not feeling well that you told him earlier.

It was another 45 minutes before Urban stormed into the studio pissed off and red in the face.

"Do you not know how to answer your fucking phone anymore?!"

"What? You were coming right back anyway. It's been on DND all day. What took you so long?"

"Your girlfriend is what took me so long." Jack immediately rolled his eyes.

"Oh, did she give you that same bullshit ass excuse of her not feeling well?"

"You are such a fucking dumbass. When I got there she was on the floor, passed out! So when she told you that she didn't feel well, she wasn't lying! The paramedics were asking me all these questions that I didn't know the answer to since I didn't even know how long she had been on the floor or if she hit her head!"

"Wait, what?"

"You fucking heard me, your girl is in the hospital and hadn't even woken up when I left because I had to rush to get to your dumbass to tell you since your phone is on DND. The hospital had been trying to call you ever since she got there!"

All Jack did was mutter fuck under his breath and immediately started to feel guilty.

You had been telling the truth the entire time and all you wanted to do for the past few weeks is spend time with him and all he did was ignore you.

"I…."

"Just come on, I'll drive." Urban said and all Jack did was nod his head as a million thoughts were running through his mind.

Urban sped through traffic and made it back to the hospital in record time. Jack barely gave him a chance to stop the car at the entrance before jumping out and trying to get to you as soon as possible.

He immediately ran to the desk to ask the secretary where you were before she gave him directions to your room down the hallway.

Once he reached your room, he saw you sitting up with your head resting in your hand while the other was flipping through channels on television that was in the front of the room.

"Baby?" Jack said as he entered the room and all you did was look at him.

"Um, what happened?" He asked again and all you did was sigh.

"Don't you have somewhere else more important to be?" You asked while turning away from him to look at the TV.

"What? You're important to me, you're my priority."

"You can save the bullshit because I don't want to hear it. You know this is the first day that you called me baby and not by my first name in almost three weeks?"

"I… I'm sorry I was busy, but I'm here now." Jack tried to take your hand, but you quickly pulled it away.

"And you can leave. I don't need you here or want you here, you have to keep a roof over our heads, remember?"

"I know you’re mad at me, pissed is more like it for good reason but I just want you to talk to me."

"Oh, so now you want to talk? When you thought something might have happened to me? You have been acting like I bother you with everything that I say and you wondered why I said that you hated me this morning. I'm being admitted for the night so you'll be able to get your rest without me bothering you. I'll get Urban to pick me up tomorrow so that you can continue to provide for us. Now, you can leave so you can go and do that."

"You haven't even told me what's going on with you! I'm not leaving!"

"Why? So you can pretend to act like you care? I have started not to be able to recognize you anymore and I don't like the person that you're becoming so do me a favor and get out of my sight."

You had been home for a few days and Jack actually ended up staying the night with you in the hospital despite your protests.

Long story short, you fainted because you were dehydrated and the stress that you had been under didn't help either.

Jack had been walking on eggshells around you since that day and was staying with you at home to make sure you had everything that you needed without having to lift a finger. However, now he was getting on your nerves because he wouldn't let you out of his sight. It sh

"Babe, when's the last time you drank water?"

"2006."

"Y/N! I'm trying to make sure you stay hydrated. I don't want you fainting again."

"I'm fine for the millionth time so you can leave. It's amazing how much free time you have now." You fired back and all he did was sigh.

"I never properly apologized to you and I'm sorry for making you feel like I didn't care about you and you should have never had to beg for me to spend time with you. I just get so wrapped up in my head with work that it's all that I focus on. I promise to do better moving forward and never make you feel that way ever again. I want this and I want us for the long haul."

“I don’t want you to promise me anything, instead show me by your actions.”

“Can I have a kiss to help me get started?” Jack asked while pouting and you immediately rolled your eyes before leaning over to kiss him since he sat next to you.

“Uhhh I need one more for strength and maybe two more for good luck.”

“I… look now.”

“Please?!”

You obliged while leaning over to kiss him and he quickly pulled you onto his lap.

“I love you and I should never go that long without telling you again.” Jack whispered against your lips.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

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senditcolton · 3 months

Text

I'm Still Glad I Met You

Isn't it profound, how such a brief experience can be so special?

summary: Emmaline 'Emma' Evans never expected to be in Paris, searching for inspiration to bring back to her new cafe in New York. She certainly didn't expect to meet Nico, a stranger who doesn't feel like one. But is it just the City of Love twisting her emotions, making her fall for someone who is sure to be temporary? Or is this is the start of something real? song inspo: need by taylor swift word count: 12.5k warnings: hinted intimacy (non-explicit), brief language, resolved angst. written for @wyattjohnston's winter fic exchange to @offside-the-lines with love 🤍❄️🖋️ bonus epilogue!

Au nom de l’équipage d’Air France, nous vous souhaitons une bonne journée.

From the large windows, Emmaline Evans watches the darkened tarmac pass, her plane headed towards the gate. There was still a small part of her that couldn’t believe that she in Paris. It was exciting even though she wouldn’t be able to explore until tomorrow. But she knew to hold her excitement close to her chest, letting her head guide her instead of her heart.

She wasn’t here for a vacation. She was here for work.

While this trip was an early birthday gift from her parents, it was bought with the express purpose of helping her prepare for the opening of the café she and her best friend Morgan had been planning for the past year and was now only 4 months away.

La Crème de la Crème. The best of the best. That was the name and that was the goal; to bring a bit of France back to Greenwich Village and impress all who walked in with Morgan’s coffee talents and Emma’s pastry skills. And what better way to bring Paris to New York than to take inspiration from the City of Love itself?

Pulling her phone out from her purse, she checks the time. 8pm. She scours through her memory until she remembers that New York is six hours behind. Opening her messages, she shoots off a quick text to Morgan.

Landed! I’m going to get to the apartment and then try to sleep. How are things going over there? sent 8:08pm

The rustling of the other passengers pulls Emma’s attention from her phone, realizing that it was time to depart from the plane. She hastily grabs her items, lugging her suitcase from the overhead bin and makes her way through the airport. She utters a quick thank you to the universe for her knowledge of the French language or she would be completely lost. It isn’t until she has successfully grabbed a cab and began the route to the Paris apartment, does she check her messages again.

It's all good here! The rest of the equipment came today so the plan is to finish installing that today. And then all that’s left is the menu, staff, and décor. received 8:16pm

You make it sound so easy. sent 8:37pm

Babe, we’ve been planning this for ages. We are literally in the homestretch! received 8:42pm

I know, it’s just… ugh. I wish you were here with me. This is our dream after all. sent 8:44pm

I do too. But I’m perfectly fine holding down the fort here. You just focus on Paris and all the amazing desserts you’re going to recreate when you come back stateside! (don’t forget to make notes about the coffee as well!) received 8:49pm

I don’t know coffee nearly as well as you but I’ll do my best. Thanks, Morgan. I literally couldn’t do this without you. sent 8:53pm

You know it. received 8:54pm

A small chuckle escapes from Emma’s throat at Morgan’s reply. She sighs, looking out the taxi window, blinking a few times at the sights in front of her. She was so absorbed in the everything she left behind that she wasn’t even paying attention to where she was. She had entered the city limits. She arrived.

Paris. The city seemed to sparkle as she rode down the narrow streets and alleyways. It was early in the evening which meant the streets were crowded with people. Emma had always believed that New York was the city that never slept but she had a feeling that Paris would prove her wrong.

The taxi pulls up to the Airbnb that Emma rented and she takes her luggage, thanking her driver before grabbing the key out of the lockbox and making her way up the narrow staircase. She looks out the small window, looking at the city stretching out in front of her, the lights of the Eiffel Tower shining in the distance.

These next 4 days would be magical. That much she was sure of. What else could this experience be described as?

~*~*Day One*~*~

Emma had been in Paris for less than 16 hours and she had already found so much inspiration. It wasn’t just the cafés that she had stopped at so far, it wasn’t even the assortment of treats she had already eaten; it was the city. She thought the stories she heard about Paris were exaggerations – no city could be that amazing. People surely had to be over-romanticizing the city of romance. But they weren’t.

Here, in this moment, sitting at the Café de la Paix outside the Grand Hotel, watching as the people passed her by, listening as the chatter of multiple languages bouncing off her eardrums… she realized those stories were true. The city itself brought about its own kind of energy, cocooning her in a beautiful dream. The afternoon sun was warm on her face and Emma could only hope to bottle a mere drop of this feeling and pack it in her suitcase to bring back to New York along with her notebook that was already filled with scribbles and notes about the delicacies that she had sampled.

“Je peux me asseoir ici?”

The slightly butchered pronunciation pulls Emma out of her reverie. She looks over to see a man standing with his hand lightly resting on the chair across from her. She shoots him a smile, her hand gesturing towards the seat.

“It’s all yours.”

“Is it that obvious that I don’t speak French?” the stranger asks her as he sits down, a sheepish look on his face.

“I never said that,” Emma laughs, her lighthearted teasing pulling a relaxed smile onto his lips. “But you shouldn’t feel too bad,” she continues. “I’ve noticed that if you have even a hint of an accent, the locals here switch to English, even if you actually know how to speak French.”

“I take it that’s happened to you?”

“The American is hard to mask,” she replies with a slight shake of her head. “I’m Emma.”

“Nico,” the stranger replies, reaching for her outstretched hand to give it a polite shake. “So, American huh?”

“Born and raised. What about you? I don’t mean to pry but I do hear a… unique accent.”

“I’m from Switzerland but I work in America,” Nico explains.

“And you’re in Paris for…” Emma asks, unsure why she is so interested in this – very handsome – stranger’s story. But Nico doesn’t seem to mind her questions as he gives a small shrug and replies with that same gentle smile on his face.

“My job. Some press work,” he says, vague but nonchalant.

“Wow. You’re from Switzerland, you work in America, but your job also takes you to Paris? Quite a world traveler.”

“I’m very lucky,” Nico says before turning the question back to her. “What about you? Are you here for work or pleasure?”

“Work. But maybe a little bit of pleasure?”

“Well, now you’ve intrigued me.”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“I’d still love to hear about it.”

“Really? I don’t want to waste your time,” Emma says, hesitant. However, she can’t deny the small spark of hope that flutters in her chest over the prospect of Nico wanting to talk to her. Who wouldn’t deny the attention of an attractive and kind stranger?

“I have nothing planned for the rest of the day,” Nico assures her. “Plus, you’re one of the few people who has been welcoming to me, outside of the people from my… company.”

“Are the Parisian’s living up to the ‘stuck up French’ stereotype?” she laughs.

“Unfortunately for them, they are,” Nico replies with a laugh of his own. “But I guess it is pretty fortunate for me.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have run into you.”

Emma feels her cheeks flush as his casual flattery, her head ducking down in shyness. When she looks up, she can see the grin on Nico’s face – as if he enjoyed making her flustered – and Emma is struck with the strange juxtaposition of wanting to playfully wipe that smirk away but also wanting to make sure it stayed just so she could see it more.

“Well, if I’m going to tell you my life story, I’m going to need more coffee,” she finally replies, before waving over the waitress.

The day ends up being a waste for Emma – well, at least in the work sense. She doesn’t leave Café de la Paix until late, sun hanging low in the sky; not nearly enough time left in the day to hit all of the cafés, boulangeries, and patisseries that she planned on visiting. But she finds that she doesn’t care. Because all those ‘wasted’ hours were spent talking to Nico.

He was funny and sweet and charming and drop dead gorgeous. Talking to him felt so natural, like they had known each other for ages even though they just met that day. The entire experience of him sitting across from her in a Paris café, listening to her stories, telling her stories of his own, and constantly shooting her that beautiful dimpled smile… it felt like something out of a dream.

The cynical part of her psyche wanted to shake her; he was a stranger and she was caught up in the romance of Paris. That was all. But the hopeless romantic side of her wanted to stay in this cotton-candy colored haze for as long as she could.

Which is why, now, as she sits in her rental apartment, her notebook splayed open in front of her, she isn’t brainstorming a menu or planning the ingredient list for the café or even scrolling through Pinterest for interior design inspiration.

Instead, her eyes are tracing the scrawl of numbers that Nico wrote in the top right-hand corner.

A number that was written as a request for him to join her on her exploration of Paris.

And – after she banishes that negative voice into the corner of her mind – Emma enters the number into her messages, texting him an invitation to meet her at Du Pain et des Idees on 34 Rue Yves Toudic.

She falls asleep to the knowledge of Nico’s reply.

See you then. received 9:18pm

~*~*Day Two*~*~

This was absolutely ridiculous.

That was all that Emma could think as she closes the door to her rented Parisian apartment.

Granted, a lot of things about this situation were ridiculous. The fact that she was in Paris. The fact that she was there to help open her dream café. The fact that everything she ate tasted better than she could ever imagine.

But the most ridiculous part of all? Nico.

The man that she had only met yesterday and yet… there was something about him. His gentle eyes, his soft smile, the dimples in his cheeks.

He was at the boulangerie when she arrived, a coffee in hand and an Escargot a la Pistache for her. Another thing to add into the ridiculous column – that pastry was the reason that particular store was on her checklist.

And then the day that followed… even more unbelievable. Walking down the Parisian streets with Nico by her side, taking multiple pit-stops into cafés and patisseries and boulangeries, talking about everything but also nothing at all. Nico stayed by her side into the late afternoon, until his job called him away.

There was a constant battle in her mind about why this was happening.

The hopeless romantic was telling her that this was fate; she was supposed to meet Nico here in Paris and they were supposed to experience this moment in time together. That there was a reason, some grand universal scheme, that out of all the tables he could’ve chosen to sit at in Café de la Paix, he chose hers.

The cynic, however, was telling her this was nothing. He chose that table because it was open. He accompanied her today because it came with the promise of delicious French cuisine. And sure, maybe he liked the way she looked. Perhaps that was the reason he stuck around; he was a young handsome man in a foreign country who was simply looking for a good time.

But if that was all he wanted, why choose her? He could easily pick up any beautiful French woman at any bar or club, spend the night with her and then forget her name come morning. Why spend an entire with her, seeming perfectly happy keeping her company, even if that company included her ranting to him about the details of pastry and desserts, something he admitted he knew nothing about?

That unknowable ‘why?’ was haunting Emma. Was she being paranoid? Or was she being careful? Or was she just overthinking about something and someone that was temporary?

In three days’ time, she would be on a plane flying back to New York and whatever she had shared with Nico would be over. She would never see him again. That wasn’t something that her emotions were lying to her about. That wasn’t something refutable. She would never see Nico again. Because that is what this was: temporary.

The thing is… it didn’t feel temporary.

If this was fate or destiny or whatever, it didn’t feel like Nico was supposed to come into her life for a few days and then leave without another word exchanged between them. It felt more intentional.

But, once again, perhaps her emotions were twisting this reality into the fairytale that she so desperately wanted her life to be.

Emma is startled out of her spiraling thoughts by the shrill sound of her phone ringing. After rummaging through her bag, she grasps her cell and is surprised to see Morgan’s number flashing on her screen.

The spike of fear that rushes through her clears her head faster than even the strongest cup of coffee. There was absolutely no reason for Morgan to be calling unless it was an emergency; money troubles, delivery issues, hell it could even be something worse like mold or an electrical fire. Emma quickly accepts the call and lifts her cell to her ear, mentally preparing herself.

“Girl, you better tell me what the hell is going on with you,” Morgan’s voice echoes through the line, clear as day even with the white noise of New York in the background.

“What?” Emma asks, taken aback by Morgan’s unexpected words.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to avoid this,” Morgan quips, confusing Emma even further.

“Morgan, I really don’t know what you are talking about,” Emma sighs.

“The pictures? The angles? That love-struck look on your face in every single one of them?”

“What are you talking about?” Emma repeats.

“Babe, come on. I’ve known you for years now. You think I don’t know what it looks like when you’ve tripped head over heels for someone?”

Finally, the fog lifts from Emma’s brain.

“You’re talking about the pictures I’ve texted to you,” she sighs, collapsing onto the couch. In an effort to keep Morgan updated, she had asked Nico to occasionally take her picture – across from café tables or in front of other classic Parisian sights, all which she sent to Morgan with a quick message or an even faster emoji.

“What else would I be talking about?” Morgan says, the exasperated tone that Emma had grown to love hitting her eardrums.

“I thought you were calling me because there was some type of emergency.”

“This is a freaking emergency!” Morgan shouts, causing a laugh to fall from Emma, one which is ignored as Morgan barrels on. “My best friend has been struck by Cupid’s arrow in the City of Love!”

“I have not.”

“Don’t deny it. Now, spill. Who is the mysterious French gentleman?”

“He’s actually Swiss,” Emma retorts, knowing that Nico’s nationality was the least important reason Morgan was calling. A thought that is practically confirmed by Morgan’s next words.

“What?”

“Nothing. His name is Nico. He’s in Paris for work. I met him at Café de la Paix yesterday.”

“Really? That’s it? That’s all I get? The CliffsNotes version?”

“Well, to be honest, that’s all I really know. I mean, we’ve talked about family and childhood and general get-to-know each other things – food, movies, all that – but that’s it,” Emma explains, the words feeling stupid as they come out of her mouth.

When talking to Nico, she didn’t mind that they kept things surface level. She knew the reason for it. It was because of that word that continued to plague her – temporary. No point getting into the ‘deep stuff’ when all this would be a distant memory soon.

“Is he handsome?” Morgan’s voice sounds again, her focus on what she considered ‘important’ forcing a laugh from Emma’s lips.

“Drop dead gorgeous,” Emma sighs, Nico’s eyes and dimples and smile dancing through her mind.

“Have you slept with him yet?”

“Morgan!”

“What?” Morgan exclaims, her own laugh seeping into her words. “I feel like it’s a very relevant question: have you slept with the drop-dead gorgeous man you met yesterday, who is choosing to spend a day of his vacation with you?”

“I told you, he’s here for work. And we didn’t spend the entire day together.”

“Not important. Have you slept with him?”

“No, I haven’t,” Emma replies, the smile clear in her words.

“Bitch, why not?” Morgan shrieks, causing Emma to laugh once again.

“Because. Besides, you should know I don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I know, not since you got out of school. But come on! First off, I take it he’s not a pretentious wanna-be pastry chef, right?”

“He’s not.”

“Alright. Secondly, you’re never going to see him again so what’s the harm?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Emma sighs as she sinks deeper into the couch cushions, the joy dropping from her voice at yet another reminder of this being temporary.

“Woah, okay,” Morgan says, her own voice softening at the sadness broadcasted in Emma’s. “Something else is going on here.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Clearly, it’s not considering how upset you sound. Come on, it’s just me. Your best friend in the whole wide world who may tease you a bit but would never actually judge you.”

Emma takes a deep breath, looking around her apartment, trying to get her thoughts in order. Her eyes move to the window where she can still see the shape of the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

“It’s just…” she begins, hesitating, worried that the words will sound ridiculous. But she relaxes, remembering that it’s just Morgan. “I’ve never felt like this before. Nico, he’s… he’s so sweet and so kind. I mean, like you said, he’s spending his free time to hang out with me. Like, that must mean something right? I mean, if he wanted a piece of ass he could find one easily.”

“Not one as hot as yours,” Morgan interjects but Emma pays no mind to her words.

“It seems like he cares about me as more than just a potential hookup. And when I’m with him… it’s easy, like we’ve known each other for ages. Part of me wants to say that all these emotions are fake because – y’know – it’s the ‘City of Love’ and Paris just making me think this is more than it is but… I feel like I could fall in love with him.”

Emma can hear Morgan’s intake of breath, a tell-tale sign that she opened her mouth to speak but Emma cut her off before she could utter a syllable.

“I know that’s stupid to say about a man I met less than 36 hours ago. Plus, like you said, we’re never going to see each other again. His job apparently takes him all around the world so the chances of running into him after this are slim to none. But since I like him this much – in a way that is beyond casual – I’m worried that if I sleep with him or hell even kiss him, it will just make it harder to get over him. Which, again, is silly that I’m worried about getting over someone that I will might spend a maximum of four days with. Like – it’s just – I don’t know.”

Emma heaves another sigh, her hand moving to run through her dark hair before a half-hearted chuckle escapes her.

“This is why I don’t do casual.”

There is a small pause as Morgan takes in all of Emma’s words, the only sound filtering through the phone being the ambient noise of both of their respective cities. Emma finally hears a sigh from the other line before Morgan’s voice comes through.

“Listen, you know I’m not much for soulmates and true love and all of that. But I think you should just embrace it, whatever it is that you are feeling.”

This time, it is Emma who is about to voice a retort and Morgan who stops her before she can.

“Yeah, you’ll probably never see him again. Yeah, this is all temporary. But isn’t that even more reason to dive in headfirst while you can? Better to live a life of mistakes than a life of regret.”

Emma lets Morgan’s final statement sink in, her brain moving a mile a minute. She was right: what was there to lose? The question whirls around Emma’s head, the answer to which doesn’t instantly appear. The only thing that Emma could think to utter was another sigh.

“You know, sometimes you give really good advice.”

“It does tend to happen from time to time, thank you for noticing,” Morgan laughs. “And hey, regardless of what you decide over there in Paris, maybe this whirlwind romance will give you even more inspiration for the café!”

“And sometimes you give advice like that,” Emma jokes, the exasperation in the tone obvious.

“Eh, you win some, you lose some. I’ll let you get some dinner and sleep. Keep me updated – this time on everything not just the food, please and thank you.”

“Will do. Bye Morgan.”

Morgan replies with a quick goodbye before the call ends, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts once more. The hours pass and after ordering some takeout, Emma sits down at her small kitchen table. While she eats, Emma flips open to the back page of her notebook, writing down all the emotions and questions swirling around in her head, trying find some logical solution to her current predicament.

She’s in the middle of making a pros and cons list when her phone screen lights up with a message. Not thinking much of it, she doesn’t bother looking at the preview before unlocking her phone, ready to read another quip from Morgan. She is halted in her movements when she sees Nico’s name on the screen.

Hey. I had a lot of fun hanging out with you today. I was wondering if you wanted to do it again tomorrow? I have the evening off and would love to take in some Parisian nightlife. received 7:58pm

Emma’s eyes dance over his words before jumping back to her own looped handwriting on the pages of her notebook, trying to add this message into the tangle of possibilities. She is about to type up an excuse about why she can’t before a familiar voice echoes through her mind.

Better to live a life of mistakes than a life of regret. What’s the worst that could happen?

Yes, it could be a huge mistake letting Nico get any closer, letting him mess with her emotions any more than he already has. But maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be. And as Emma chews over those two possibilities, another question enters her mind.

Which would hurt more? Getting over Nico or never giving him a chance?

Emma looks back to her phone, the answer obvious to her now. She deletes the previously half written message before typing up a new response.

What did you have in mind? sent 8:06pm

Anything’s good for me. Just as long as you’re there. received 8:10pm

~*~*Day Three*~*~

Emma thought that she would get used to this feeling; the feeling of existing in a dream. It seemed to happen every hour she spent with Nico by her side. And now, the evening air warm as the two of them sit outside of Carette, the sweet taste of macarons in dancing across their tastebuds with the Eiffel Tower shining directly across the Seine… it was something out of a romance novel.

Emma glances across the small table towards Nico, wondering if he felt the same. He catches her stare and when that beautiful smile appears on his face, the butterflies erupt in her stomach. No one else had been able to illicit that reaction from her with something as simple a smile.

“Anything you would like to do next?” Nico asks, wiping the remnants of his dessert on the small paper napkins.

“Not really. I – well, we’ve – hit most of the cafés and stores on my list so I don’t have really anywhere I need to be,” Emma explains. Nico nods, acknowledging her words with a small hum. “I might just head back to my apartment. It is getting kind of late.”

“Need any company?”

His words catch Emma’s attention, the potential entendre clear within them. Emma shoots him a questioning look and it seems that her expression makes Nico realize how it must have sounded.

“I mean, not like that, I, um – what I was trying to say was would you like me to walk you home – keep you company on the way to your place,” he stumbles over his words and in the streetlights, Emma can see his cheeks turning a rosy pink. She assuages his fear with a soft laugh.

“I’d like that.”

“Good. Okay,” Nico sighs, his hands running through his hair. He smiles again, one that Emma returns, before he lifts himself from his chair, holding his hand out to Emma. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Emma says, placing her hand in his as he helps her from her seat. Emma is about ready release her grasp when she feels his grip slightly tighten, an action that brings another questioning look on her face.

“Is this alright?” Nico asks, his voice soft.

The butterflies in her stomach flip into overdrive at his gentle request. Although she had agreed to this – Date? Meeting? Rendezvous? Whatever. – with Nico, a part of her was still hesitant to make a more daring move. To dive head first as Morgan said. Vulnerability had never been much of a strong suit for her.

But considering that Nico was looking at her like she hung the stars, that sweet earnest expression on his face, she realized that she didn’t care if her heart would be broken by the end of this trip. Because whatever she shared with Nico… it was magical.

Why not keep the magic for as long as she could?

The smallest of smiles tugs at the corner of Emma’s lips as she adjusts her hold around Nico’s hand, weaving her fingers through his.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers, her voice wavering a bit; a waver that Nico hears but silences with a small squeeze of her hand and that bright dimpled smile.

The two of them leave the small café, walking hand in hand across the square, through the Trocadero Gardens to the Pont d’Iena bridge, the Eiffel Tower standing tall in front of them. The water of the Siene is a soft soundtrack below them and Emma finds herself caught up in the beauty of Paris.

Part of her thought that the novelty of the city would wear off eventually. But it seemed that Paris revealed something else wonderful to her every second she walked down its paved streets. As her and Nico walk underneath the sprawling base of the Eiffel Tower, Emma’s eyes trace the steelwork; its gentle arcs, its cross-work patterns, the diamond in the center that she knew lifted up and up, the lights hung on every intricate weld. This vacation was one of the best things that ever happened to her, that much she was sure of.

And it was made even sweeter with the presence of the man by her side, still holding her hand.

She looks over towards Nico, his eyes connecting to hers, a smile appearing on both of their faces. She lets him lead her away from the tower, down Champ de Mars.

Emma had previously thought that the city was manipulating her emotions, getting her hopes up over someone who didn’t feel the same. Now, she thought that perhaps the city brought Nico to her for a reason. That the city wasn’t scheming to break her heart… it was planning to open it and let Nico – with his gentle eyes and soft smile and adorable dimples – change her for the better.

Her daydreams are interrupted by a chorus of ‘oohs’ falling from the mouths of other tourists around her and Nico. Emma looks and sees a few people with their camera’s aimed behind them and when she turns, her jaw drops.

There in the background, the Eiffel Tower stands, it’s thousands of lights now flashing, making the entire structure look as if it was covered in glitter.

“I haven’t been able to catch the light show since I got here,” Emma whispers, partly to herself but her words also land on Nico’s eardrums. “I always forgot when it started.”

The two of them stand there, taking in the sparkling spire before Nico’s voice breaks the brief silence.

“Do you want a picture?”

“Could you? That be amazing,” Emma says, reaching into her purse before she stops. “Oh, right. My phone died.”

“I can use mine,” Nico replies without any hesitation, reaching into the pocket of his jeans.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he says, phone now in hand.

Nico starts to take a step back, his hand slipping from Emma’s grasp. But before he can fully let go, her fingers tighten around his. The action takes Nico by surprise, his eyes jumping to their intertwined hands before looking back to Emma.

“Take one with me?” she asks, her own voice soft, the question seeming to hold more weight than it should. Emma watches as a flicker of hesitation passes across Nico’s face, the uncertainty making her anxiety jump. But Nico once again silences her fear, his expression morphing back into that smile that made her heart skip in the best way before he gently nods his head, stepping back towards her.

Nico turns their bodies so the Eiffel Tower is behind them before holding out his phone. Emma takes a small breath before she moves, slotting her body next to his, her free hand lifting to rest on his chest. Every movement is tentative, unsure of how much Nico will allow. But when Nico drops her hand to wrap his arm around her body, pulling her closer, Emma relaxes. Her body curls into Nico’s, head resting on his shoulder as Nico angles the camera to capture the shimmering tower in the background.

Nico’s thumb presses the shutter button a few times before moving the phone closer to them as his hands navigate from the camera to the photos. Emma looks over the images, the smile never leaving her face. Each picture is beautiful; the two of them looking incredibly happy, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance. She turns her attention away from Nico’s phone, back towards him. But when their eyes connect, her breath catches in her throat.

The look on Nico’s face is one that Emma has seen a thousand times before, but only in movies and television shows. A look that had never once been directed towards her. A look of utmost gentleness, the yearning in Nico’s irises gleaming with the same intensity as the light show still happening behind them.

Nico’s head dips closer towards Emma’s upturned face and Emma finds her own body is stretching up to meet him. They pause, bare inches in between them and Emma can feel the gentle brush of Nico’s breath fanning across her cheeks.

Another moment of hesitation, the air thick with indecision, waiting for someone to make the final move.

In the end, it turns out to be Nico that leans in, closing the gap between them and capturing Emma’s lips in a gentle kiss. The press of him against her surprises Emma – not because she wasn’t expecting it, not because she didn’t want it, but because she couldn’t quite believe it was really happening.

The touch of him, the taste of him… it felt too good to be true.

But when she feels Nico start to pull away, the shock subsides and the hunger takes over. Her hands blindly lift to burrow into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, dragging him back into her as she reciprocates the kiss.

This time, it is Nico that is taken aback by her intensity but it is brief – a minuscule surprise – until he matching her passion, his own hands tightening around her waist, pulling her body impossibly closer to her. The kisses deepen, the two of them enveloped in the desire that had been steadily building for the past two days.

Eventually, they fall away from each other, dazed from the kisses shared. Emma glances up at Nico, the smile on her lips mirrored on his.

“Wow,” he whispers, his hand lifting to delicately brush his fingers across Emma’s cheekbones, causing a light laugh to escape her.

They stand there for a moment, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Emma’s thoughts spin in her mind; questions about what this means and if this changes anything. But eventually, one voice takes over.

Embrace it, Emma.

She wasn’t sure if that voice was that of her best friend or of Paris or her own, but it didn’t matter who spoke. All that mattered was that she listened.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be tomorrow morning?” Emma asks, the words light with the crooked grin that twisted itself onto her lips. The smirk is quickly matched by Nico, this time the double entendre being anything but unintentional.

“I don’t. Why do you ask?” he says, his own voice teasing.

“Oh, there’s just this café right next door to my apartment that I think you might enjoy,” Emma nonchalantly replies, matching his taunt.

“Planning another brunch?”

“It opens pretty early. And people always say that first customers get the freshest food.”

“Breakfast then,” Nico says, his agreement to her anything but subtle offer painted clearly on his face.

“Perfect,” Emma replies.

Nico leans forward, kissing Emma once more and if there was any question left in either of their minds, it was erased by the need coursing through their bodies. Nico pulls away, his arms falling from Emma’s frame – albeit reluctantly. He takes a single step back before offering his hand once again, one that is immediately accepted by Emma. Their fingers intertwine as Emma takes her place by Nico’s side. He looks down at her, his eyes bright.

“Lead the way.”

~*~*Day Four*~*~

The gentle morning sun rouses Emma from her slumber. The plush sheets brush against her bare skin, the warmth trapped within them comforting her, lulling her back into her dream. Or, more accurately, the dream of last night.

The brush of Nico’s hands against her skin, the strength of his hold on her hips, the feeling of his lips tracing her silhouette, the softness of his hair in between her fingers, his strong arms wrapped around her as they both fell asleep.

Arms that were no longer holding her.

Her brain slowly registers the emptiness surrounding her as she blindly reaches behind, hoping that her palm would land on the solid form of Nico. But when her hand lands on the softness of the sheets and solidness of the mattress, Emma’s eyes open.

She lifts her body upright, muscles protesting, still sore from last night’s activities. Her gaze dances around the studio apartment, finding it completely empty; only the fabric of her own clothes scattered across the floor.

Emma’s heart drops, the critical voice that had been kept dormant coming back in full force, assuming the worst.

He got what he wanted. He coerced himself into your bed and you were foolish enough to let him. And now that he accomplished what he set out to do, there was no reason for him to stick around.

The soft chime of the doorbell echoes around the apartment, cutting of the voice before it had a chance to berate her further. Emma sighs, lifting herself off the bed and grabbing the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door She throws it on before walking down the stairwell towards the entrance door.

She isn’t concerned about who is waiting on the street. It was most likely a delivery person who mistook her door for the side entrance to one of the stores next to her. But when she swings the wooden door open, the French poised on her lips, she is silenced by the sight of Nico standing on the other side of the threshold, a bag hanging from his arm and two cups of coffee in his hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to take your keys and make you think you lost them or something,” he explains, the sheepish look gracing his features. Emma stares at him for a moment, her thoughts rearranging themselves at the realization that she was wrong and he didn’t simply abandon her.

“It’s alright,” she says, stepping to the side. Nico crosses through the doorway as Emma closes the door behind him. He lets her climb back up the stairs first before they both re-enter the apartment.

Nico breezes over to the small table in the kitchen, leaving Emma still standing bewildered near the entrance. She watches as he sets down the two coffee cups before fishing into the brown paper bag and removing a pair of eclairs.

“I probably should’ve waited for you because my French is terrible. Thankfully, the workers remembered you so I trust that they got your order right,” Nico explains, shooting a smile her way. “You must really like that place if they know your name after only three days.”

“Wild & The Moon has great food. I think I’ve stopped there every morning since arriving,” she says, walking towards him and taking a seat in one of the chairs. Nico settles into the opposite seat, that soft smile on his face.

“Well, I’m not going to be one to disagree with a pastry chef,” he laughs, his cheery demeanor breaking through the thin wall that Emma had hastily created around her heart when she woke up to find him missing. She returns his grin, although it is slightly half-hearted. She can see her hesitance register on Nico’s face but Emma doesn’t address it. Instead, she grabs the coffee he placed in front of her, taking a small sip.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

“It’s perfect. Exactly what I always order,” Emma replies with a small shrug.

“That’s good to hear but it’s not exactly what I was asking.”

Emma looks back up at him, his eyes trained on her face. His emotions were painted so clearly onto his features; concern, confusion, and an inkling of fear. Emma sighs again, shaking her head slightly.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s bothering you so it isn’t nothing,” Nico shoots back, the earnestness in his statement startling Emma. Nico hesitates before reaching his hand out, brushing his fingers against hers before intertwining their grip. “Tell me, please.”

Emma takes a breath, the words sticking in her throat, unsure whether to tell him the truth or to brush off his worry again. But she decides to embrace it – every emotion, the good and the bad.

“I thought you left me,” she whispers, looking back up at him. “Took off after I fell asleep because this – whatever this is – is casual. And that’s what happens with casual.”

Emma immediately regrets the words when she sees Nico’s face fall.

“Is that what you think about me?”

“It’s what my worst intentions thought,” Emma answers honestly. “I’m glad I was proven wrong though,” she continues, a hopeful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. One that Nico blissfully returns.

“Last night…” he begins, pausing to deliberate his words. “Last night was amazing. Really. But I want you to know that I loved hanging out with you before that. I don’t want you to think it was all a ruse to get in your pants.”

Emma wants to tell him that she didn’t think that but it would be a lie so she just keeps her mouth closed, listening intently to Nico instead.

“I really like hanging out with you,” he concludes, looking back at her.

“I do too,” Emma responds with a smile.

She doesn’t tell him that she thinks she’s falling for him, or at least could see herself falling for him. Because, while this connection may be pure and genuine, that didn’t erase the fact that this wasn’t going to last. She was leaving tomorrow, back to New York. He would leave soon – back to wherever it was that his job took him next.

Instead, they sit there in silence, eating their food and sipping their coffee. It is a silence filled with a sense of comfort but an overlay of sadness as well. This was likely it for them.

“Today is your last day in Paris, right?” Nico asks, breaking the silence by voicing the unavoidable truth.

“Yeah. My flight is tomorrow at 9am.”

“Anything you want to do for your last day?”

“Still want to hear me rant about French pastry?”

“I have to admit, it is pretty entertaining,” Nico laughs, that jovial sparkle in his eyes. “And I was serious; I like hanging out with you. I don’t have anywhere I need to be so why not spend the day with you?”

The butterflies start up again; both at Nico’s sweet words but also at the heated way that he is looking at her from across the table, his eyes dancing over her frame. His gaze makes Emma suddenly aware of the only thing that is separating her bare skin from his sight is the fabric of her robe. She smirks, the desire sparking again as she lifts herself up from the table.

“Well, I looked at my notes and I actually managed to hit all the shops I wanted to,” Emma muses, taking a few steps towards Nico. “So, maybe we could go to the Louvre.”

“See the Mona Lisa?” Nico asks, his body turning towards her as she walks closer.

“Although I hear that it can get insanely crowded.”

“A little claustrophobic, wouldn’t you say?”

“My hosts – the couple who owns this apartment – left a long list of tourist spots that are close by. Some gardens, some museums…” she continues, her hands toying with the bow holding her robe together.

“That sounds relaxing,” Nico responds with a small hum.

“But I also have to do laundry and pack and I would prefer to not leave that to the last minute.”

“Completely understandable.”

“So, I don’t know really know what we should do today,” Emma sighs, her body settling between Nico’s parted thighs, the tie of her robe now partially undone, the fabric falling off one of her shoulders. His hands reach out and a small shiver rushes through Emma’s body at the sensation of his fingertips grazing the back of her thighs.

“Maybe we should just stay in?” Nico playfully suggests, his hands dancing up and down her bare skin.

“And waste our last day together?” Emma teases. Nico smirks up at her, one hand moving to the front of her body, gently undoing the remaining tie before slipping beneath the fabric, his fingers grazing her hipbone.

“I’m sure we can find something to do to pass the time.”

~*~*A Year and A Half Later*~*~

“Is the Frasier ready to go?” Emma shouts into the kitchen, her voice startling the few customers waiting by the pick-up counter.

“It’s loaded in the back of your car with the macarons and the components for the mille-feuille,” her sous-chef April calls back. “I’m need to grab profiteroles from the racks and we should be good to go.”

“We have all four flavors of macarons?”

“Yes, boss. Everything is accounted for.”

“Good. Be ready to leave in less than ten minutes,” Emma calls, pushing through the swinging kitchen doors, walking behind the café’s main counter. She weaves her way through the two baristas working on orders towards the pastry display. Leaning down, her scan over the pastries, taking inventory of what is left and what need to be replaced. She is almost halfway through her task before a nudge on her shoulder pulls her attention away from the case. Emma glances up to see Morgan’s blue eyes looking at her from underneath her blonde bangs. Wordlessly, she hands Emma a cup filled with a latte.

“You work her too hard,” Morgan says, nodding towards the kitchen, her words referencing April.

“Nothing she’s not used to,” Emma says, taking a drink. “Trust me. The chefs at her school were likely a hundred times more terrifying than me.”

“I don’t know, you’re pretty scary when you’re stressed.”

“Stressed? Who says I’m stressed?” Emma replies, her eyes turning back to the pastry case. “We need to replenish the Pain au Chocolate as soon as possible. It’s one of our best sellers so those five will probably be gone by the end of the morning rush and we don’t want the customers waiting.”

“I’ll get Jacob on that when he’s done taking orders. And you’d be stupid if you weren’t stressed.”

Her words bring Emma’s attention to her best friend and co-owner, her brows downturned into a scowl.

“Don’t give me that look,” Morgan scoffs. “Only a year since our business opened and a professional hockey team has asked us to cater their charity brunch? This is huge. You should be freaking out, it’s okay. You don’t have to hold it together for appearance’s sake, at least not in front of me.”

“You look pretty calm,” Emma retorts.

“I screamed my lungs out in the walk-in fridge when I got in this morning.”

“You should’ve told me. We could have screamed together,” Emma laughed, taking another sip of her coffee as her and Morgan departed from behind the counter, sitting down at one of the small tables in the corner.

“With nothing but the eggs and milk as our witnesses,” Morgan laughed. The two of them look out over the café, the sound of customers talking and the hiss of the milk steamers echoing around the space.

“This is insanity,” Emma sighs.

A year. A single year from the grand opening of their café, La Crème de la Crème, and they were already more successful than they could’ve imagined. And now, in a few minutes, Emma and April would be driving across the Hudson to cater for the New Jersey Devils charity brunch.

“If you meet the person that decided to take a chance on us, give them a giant kiss on the mouth from me,” Morgan says, her testament causing Emma to laugh.

“If you want to kiss a hockey player, you should come yourself.”

“Gotta make sure this place doesn’t burn down. But who knows, maybe you’ll fall madly in love with a hot stranger like you did the last time you went to a different city without me,” Morgan jokes. The reminder causes Emma to roll her eyes.

“Will you ever let that go?”

“Have you?”

The blush that invades Emma’s cheeks is all the answer Morgan needs. Yes, it had been a year since the café opened, another four months on top of that since Emma returned from her ‘research’ trip to Paris. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t find herself still thinking about the man she met there.

Nico. He still occupied a space in her mind, ever since that last kiss they shared as he helped her into the taxi the morning she left. It was hard to let him go even though she knew that it would probably be for the best if she could just forget about him.

“The backstock should last you through the morning. If it doesn’t, Kenneth is coming in at 1. April and I should be back before then but if not, he can run the kitchen until we arrive,” Emma says, finishing off her drink and lifting herself up from the table. “Remember to have Jacob stock the Pain au Chocolate.”

“We’ve got it covered here,” Morgan says, her smile calming Emma’s beating heart. “Just focus on being the coolest pastry chef, impressing all those important people, and bringing in new customers.”

Emma responds with a playful salute before disappearing back into the kitchen. April is waiting for her by the back door, black chefs coat on, the café’s name written in cursive script over her breast. After confirming everything was in the car, they both hop in and start the drive to Newark, New Jersey.

Emma sends a thank you to whatever power there was for making traffic light, the trip not taking nearly as long as Emma had suspected it would. They are soon arriving at the hotel, pulling up to the entrance. After a quick explanation of who they were and why they were there, a few hotel workers come out to assist them as they bring their food into the kitchens.

“I’m going to find the organizer, ask where they want us to set up. Just get everything ready to be assembled and then we will go from there.”

April gives Emma a small nod in acknowledgment, turning her attention to the boxes of food in front of her. Emma leaves her to it, following the signs to the ballroom. She walks through the open doors, finding the room decorated in the red and black – colors that she now knew to be the teams –tables filling the space around a small stage.

On one wall lined with banquet tables, she spies an elegant woman holding a clipboard talking to the hotel staff, who Emma was told were providing the rest of the food. She makes her way over, the conversation hitting her ears, confirming that this was the person she needed to speak to.

Emma stands off to the side, waiting for the discussion to conclude before stepping forward.

“Hello. I’m Emmaline Evans, the co-owner and pastry chef from Crème de la Crème,” she says, holding out one of her tattooed hands.

“Oh, yes!” the woman says, graciously accepting Emma’s handshake. “I’m so glad you made it. My name’s Nicole, I’m one of the people who helped organize this brunch. Are you all settled, everything good?”

“Yes, my sous-chef is in the kitchen right now getting the plates ready. I just wanted to introduce myself and say thank you for the opportunity. It means a lot for our new business.”

“Of course! Though, I should really introduce you to Jess. She is the one that came in telling us about this amazing café in Greenwich that we just had to get,” Nicole explains, her bubbly personality infectious, making a smile break out on Emma’s face.

“I look forward to meeting her. I’ll probably be out once everything is prepared, introduce myself to some of the other guests and check to make sure everything tastes alright.”

“Perfect! I wouldn’t expect anything else from a savvy business woman, neither will any of the guests. A lot of driven people here,” Nicole explains, before turning to face the banquet tables. “We have the traditional breakfast fare here and your table is over there,” she gestures to a table a short distance away. “We decided to keep the sweets a little separate from the rest.”

“Makes perfect sense,” Emma nods, taking the layout into memory. “Would you like us to delay bringing the food out so there is a space between the main course and the dessert?”

“Is that alright for you? I think that would be best.”

“Absolutely.”

“Amazing. You can bring out the food at, let’s say 11:30? We might still be in the middle of speeches and all that but that could work out because after we’ve wrapped up there, we can direct people to your delicious food.”

“Of course. I’ll go back and get everything ready. We’ll be out at 11:30.”

“Perfect. Thank you again!” Nicole exclaims and Emma is about to extend her hand for another handshake until Nicole sweeps her into a hug instead. Emma embraces it politely before pulling away and disappearing back to the kitchen. On the way, she sees the beginning of the crowd trickling in, her eyes glancing over the guests decked out in expensive dresses and suits.

This was a golden opportunity and she wasn’t going to waste it.

She breezes into the kitchen towards the corner where April had completely set up everything in the few minutes she was gone. Emma explains the timeline and they both set to work; April filling the profiteroles with their whipped cream center and Emma assembling the layers of the mille-feuille. April finishes first and sets about arranging the macarons and profiteroles on the platters provided before moving to cut the Fraiser into slices and placing each piece on their separate plate. Emma finishes assembling the mille-feuilles and glances at the clock.

“Alright, we’ve got a few minutes. Finish plating the Fraiser and bring those out first. I’ll take the macarons and profiteroles and then we can both bring out the mille-feuille.”

“Sounds good. Do you need any help with the platters?”

“No, I should be fine,” Emma says, leaning down to pick up the silver tray the macarons were placed on. “We’ve got the labels for everything, correct.”

“Yes, boss. Do you want me to bring those out first or last.”

“Last. We can arrange the table how we see fit and then label the plates instead of having to shuffle everything around.” Emma is about to leave the kitchen before she turns back to April, the platter resting on her shoulder. “You know you don’t have to call me boss.”

“Force of habit,” April laughs, her brown eyes sparkling as she looks up from the Frasier. “You can stop pretending that you don’t like it.”

“Ha-ha,” Emma utters a sarcastic laugh before leaving. She retraces her path to the ballroom, hearing the echo of an amplified voice guiding her steps.

Emma slips in, the tables now filled with guests, their attention turned to the front stage as she sees Nicole as well as few other beautiful women standing by the podium. She registers parts of their speech; happiness for how the season was going, excitement for what was coming, reminder of the charity they were here for, and of course a call for generosity in donating. Emma makes her way around the perimeter of the room, coming to the assigned banquet table before setting the platter down. She moves back catching the eyes of April walking in with the platter of Fraiser and directs her with a nod of her head.

A few trips later, Emma is standing in front of the table, her eyes gazing over the assortment of the food she was proudest of. It looked beautiful, the whites and golds and reds and pinks and browns of the desserts creating a stunning mosaic, each section labeled in the same elegant cursive that graced her chef’s jacket.

“I’m going to go back, clean up the kitchen and get ready for any food we might have to bring back,” she says, looking to April.

“Don’t you want to stay here? You’re the chef after all,” April asks from the other side of the table.

“I plan on making the rounds a little later, get a little more personal interaction. I have no doubt that you’ll make an excellent first impression of our company without me.”

Emma sees her words register in April’s mind, a smile gracing over her features before it shifts to serious, her body lifting to stand a little taller.

“I won’t disappoint you, boss,” April says, her words serious but punctuated with a small wink, causing Emma to playfully roll her eyes. She doesn’t give another response, departing the ballrooms. She is only a few steps out of the door when she hears the final announcement echo from the speakers.

“Now please enjoy some delicious pastries from Crème de la Crème Café.”

Hearing her company name announced along with the applause that followed – although she knew the cheer wasn’t directed towards her – made her heart leap. Everything was perfect so far; all that was left was for the guests to like the food.

Emma cleans, packing the equipment they brought into her car and assembling a few take-away boxes that she hoped she didn’t have to use. She leaves the kitchen, taking a quick stop in the bathroom to wash her hands and adjust her appearance, making sure not a hair was out of place. She takes a few deep breaths, straightening her jacket before moving back into the ballroom.

She takes in the sight of plates filled with her food on tables, the smiles on peoples faces and it makes her relax. Emma catches sight of April still manning the table, her smile never wavering as she hands out desserts, her lips explaining each delicacy. She catches Emma’s eye, sending her a wink before turning her attention back to the guests. Emma lets out a sigh before she gazes around the ballroom.

“Oh, there she is! Emmaline!” she hears a voice call, locating Nicole sitting at a table waving her hand. Emma smiles, weaving through the crowd until she reaches her.

“Everyone, this is Emmaline Evans. She’s the chef that created all these wonderful treats for us!” Nicole explains and Emma smiles, nodding her head to the other guests sitting there.

“How is everything tasting?”

“Delicious!” one of the gentlemen at the table says. “Why haven’t we heard about your restaurant before?”

“We actually opened a year and a half ago so we’re relatively new.”

“Well, you are sure to get some new customers if your food always tastes this good,” he laughs, extending his hand. “Erik.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Emma says, accepting his handshake.

“I can guarantee that the food is always this good,” another feminine voice sounds from across the table. Emma turns her attention to a brunette smiling at her. “Definitely worth the drive to Greenwich.”

“Oh, right! Emmaline, this is Jess. She’s the one that insisted we book your company,” Nicole explains, the words forcing Emma to extend her hand eagerly, Jess accepting it with grace.

“Thank you for the opportunity. It really means a lot to me and my co-owner Morgan, so thank you for taking a chance on us.”

“I knew it wasn’t going to be that much of a risk. I’ve been forcing Nate to drive me to New York on his days off so I can get your food,” Jess says, nudging the shoulder of the man next to her – who Emma can only assume is Nate. “You deserve way more recognition. And, when I heard about a small woman-owned business, I knew I had to give my support. Kind of what we do.”

The other women at the table laugh in agreement, causing another smile to break out on Emma’s face. She politely stays for a few minutes, answering queries about the food provided, the menu at the café, and other general questions. Slowly, her body registers the weight of someone’s eyes on her from across the ballroom. A lull in the conversation allows her to lift her head and look around.

When her eyes land on the source of the stare, her heartbeat falters in her chest.

It had been over sixteen months since she had last seen him but she swears she could recognize those gentle brown eyes and that flowing chestnut hair anywhere.

A few tables away sat Nico; the man that she met in Paris all that time ago. The man who enchanted her from the moment he sat with her at the café table. The man she never thought she would see again.

He was here.

Emma quickly snaps out of her trance, breaking his gaze and turning her attention back to the guests in front of her with a polite smile. But beneath her composure, her thoughts were as erratic as her heartbeat. She steals another glance back in Nico’s direction, finding him in a conversation with the young man next to him, that familiar dimpled smile on his face.

“Apologies,” Emma says, interrupting the conversation taking place around her. “I should greet the other guest, check in on them.”

“Oh, of course! We’ve kept you long enough,” Nicole speaks.

“You should go talk to out team leadership,” the man next to Nicole says – Jesper, she remembered. Emma watches as he twists in his seat, eyes roving over the room before stopping, his long arm pointing to a table. “Over there.”

The directionality of his gesture has Emma’s heart skipping again, the anxiety only heightened when she follows his point to the table where Nico sat.

“That’s our captain, Nico, and our two assistant captains, Jack and Ondrej, along with their partners and a few others,” Jesper says turning back to Emma, who quickly plasters a gracious expression on her face.

“I will make sure to stop there, thank you,” she says before departing, moving only to the table next to the previous.

She was going to keep her word – she just needed a little time.

Emma introduces herself to multiple guests, answering the same questions, and handing out more business cards than she could count. She navigates the ballroom, slowly making her way over to Nico’s table. She swears that every time she moves closer, she can feel Nico’s eyes landing on her more frequently. She manages to focus on the guests in front of her enough that no one suspects anything is amiss. But she knows that the effort is half-hearted at best. The other part of her brain is twisting itself in knots over the prospect of speaking to Nico again.

She never expected to see him. She certainly didn’t expect to see him at a work event. In the fantasies that she allowed herself to occasionally indulge in, they would always run into each other at a bar or in the park or even on the street. In those daydreams, he was single and the magic from Paris would still be there between them.

But now, Emma is forced to make her brain prepare for the possible reality that she was about to walk into: that he was here with an insanely beautiful woman on his arm and the romance in Paris was exactly what she feared it to be – temporary.

It didn’t make it any better that she would have to reckon all of those heartbreaking truths with a pleasant smile on her face; the shield of professionalism she was forced to maintain that could absolutely not crack.

Emma concludes her previous conversation, taking a deep breath before turning towards the table she had been avoiding all afternoon. She walks up to the edge, glancing around the faces of the guests, trying not to let her eyes linger on one face in particular.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she speaks, calling their attention to her. “I’m one of the owners of Crème de la Crème and I just wanted to check in, see how everything was tasting.”

“It’s fucking fantastic!” the dirty blonde next to Nico exclaims, causing Nico’s head to turn with a glare and a hiss of ‘Jack!’. A blush invades his cheeks before the man – Jack – looks back towards Emma. “Sorry, I mean, it’s really, really good.”

Emma laughs gently at his words before speaking.

“It’s alright. I’m glad to hear you like it that much.”

“It really is delicious,” the stunning blonde woman next to Jack speaks. “Is your store located in Newark?”

“No, we’re actually located in Greenwich Village in New York. But this was an amazing opportunity for our business that we just couldn’t pass up.”

“That’s awesome. Do you normally cater?”

“We’re relatively new to the catering side of food service. We do provide food for smaller parties: birthdays, anniversaries, celebrations like that. This has been out biggest event yet so this was also a test for us, to see if we could handle it.”

“Well, I say you passed with flying colors!” the woman smiles. “Could I have your card? My sister would love this and her birthday is coming up.”

“Of course,” Emma says, her hand dipping into her pocket to retrieve a card.

“Actually, could I have two? I might slip one in this guy’s hockey bag as an anniversary reminder,” she laughs, nudging Jack’s shoulder.

“When have I ever not wooed you?” he laughs.

“I’m not saying you haven’t. This is just a subtle hint about what a few delicious macarons might do.”

Emma nods, grasping the two small slips of paper and extending them to her.

“Could I also have one?” an all too familiar accented voice requests.

Emma turns her attention to Nico, her eyes connecting to his. She doesn’t give a verbal response; just another nod of her head. She hands two cards off to Jack’s partner before turning to Nico, holding a business card out to him as well. Emma suppresses a shiver that threatens to run through her body as Nico’s fingers graze against hers as he takes the paper from her hand.

“Planning on surprising a special lady, as well?” Jack teases. The question is innocent when coming from his mouth but it stops Emma’s heart as she waits for the answer – preparing for the worst.

“If by special lady, you mean my mom when she flies in for the mom’s trip, then yes,” Nico jokes back, his eyes flickering back to Emma. “Besides that, no one else comes to mind.”

Emma lets out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding at Nico’s subtle admission; he wasn’t seeing anyone, at least not seriously. The other women at the table were with his teammates, not him.

“Could I ask where you learned how to cook?” another gentleman at the table asks, his voice turning Emma’s attention to him.

“Of course. I went to The French Pastry School in Chicago, which is one of the only schools that focuses exclusively on pastry creation,” Emma explains, her eyes darting towards Nico as she contemplates her next words. “But I was also blessed with the opportunity to travel to Paris and experience the authentic Parisian cuisine first hand. That trip inspired me in many ways.”

From the corner of her eyes, Emma watches as a smile tugs at Nico’s lips.

“I’ve been to Paris as well. It’s a beautiful city with amazing food.”

“Right, you were there a little over a year ago, with the NHL European press tour,” another guest says, providing answers to questions that Emma didn’t bother asking back then. He told her that he was there for work. That wasn’t a lie. She just didn’t know that this was his job.

“It was an amazing trip,” Nico replies, his eyes darting to Emma, the weight behind his words only noticeable by that recognizable sparkle in his irises.

Emma’s own smile graces her features. Their silent conversation reminded Emma of passing secret notes, communicating in a way that only the two of them could understand. The hope soared in her chest but she pushes it down in an effort not to get caught up in the moment. She excuses herself, sneaking one last quick glance over her shoulder at Nico before making her way over to April.

She forces herself to focus on the moment at hand, taking stock of the remaining food, the event dwindling down. Emma helps April carry the remaining leftovers into the kitchen, instructing her to pack up the food and load it into the car before helping the hotel staff clean the few remaining dirty dishes.

Emma makes her way back into the ballroom, gathering the remaining business cards from their table, as well as the labels before helping the staff pick up the plates scattered on the tables.

She is absentmindedly gathering the plastic plates into a stack, reaching out to grab the last plate at the table. But before she can, it is taken by a strong hand before it is extended to her. Emma lifts her eyes to thank whoever it was in front of her but her voice catches when her eyes connect with Nico again.

“So, Paris, huh?” he asks, the question loaded with a myriad of emotions that Emma couldn’t even begin to place. She takes the plate from his hand with a smile.

“Yeah, it was a really wonderful experience.”

“I bet.”

“Ate a lot of good food, saw some beautiful sights,” she continues, a mischievous smirk appearing on her face, her eyes never leaving Nico’s. “Met this really great guy.”

Emma swears that she can see the sigh escape Nico’s chest – the potential fear leaving him as his body relaxes, his tentative smile shifting to match her grin.

“I was worried you didn’t remember me,” he confesses. Emma’s eyes soften at his admission, her head slightly shaking in disbelief.

“Did you really think I’d forget?” she murmurs, her own words just as much of a confession as Nico’s. She watches his brown eyes shift, the confusion dancing within them.

“At the table…”

“I had to remain professional,” she explains, gently cutting him off. “Talking about a whirlwind romance I had with the team captain in front of potential clients – some of which are his teammates – isn’t really the way to get rehired.”

“Good point,” Nico laughs, the sound echoing around the almost abandoned ballroom, his hand lifting to run through his hair. His chuckle pulls a giggle from Emma’s own lips as she shakes her head again.

Their laughter dwindles until the silence covers them again. Emma can’t seem to tear her eyes away from him and it is clear that Nico feels the same. The two of them stand there, taking in the sight of the other, seemingly convincing themselves that they were really standing in front of each other. That this wasn’t just a fantasy.

“In truth,” Emma says, breaking the fragile silence, “You’re hard to get over. No one I’ve met since Paris has even come close.”

The broad smile that appears on his face makes Emma’s happiness increase, the subtle admission that she was also currently unattached understood by Nico.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he tells her, the words bringing a small teasing laugh from Emma.

“Didn’t know you missed me that much,” she jokes.

Her words seem to catch Nico off-guard. Her green eyes follow Nico’s movements as he reaches into the interior pocket of his suit jacket, fishing out his phone. His fingers move, tapping on the screen and scrolling until he pauses. A smile tugs at his lips as he stares at whatever was on his phone before he turns the device towards her.

Emma swears her heart skips for the hundredth time that day as she takes in the image on the screen. It’s the picture they took that night in Paris – the night everything changed. Her eyes dance over the screen, looking at the ease in which her body was resting against Nico’s, the way his arm was wrapped around her frame, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the background.

“You kept it,” she whispers.

“Of course, I did,” Nico responds with just as much tenderness. Her eyes flicker back up to the man in front of her, the look in his eyes an echo of the one from that same night. She watches as he hesitates, seemingly debating the words he was about to say. Whatever doubts he had, they apparently weren’t enough to stop him as he speaks again. “I don’t know if I ever missed anyone as much as I missed you.”

If her heart was beating erratically before, it practically stopped at Nico’s gentle words. The desire, the yearning, the emotions hanging from every syllable hit Emma like a freight train, his need bringing forth her own. A need that she tried – desperately – to get rid of for months because she thought she would never see him again.

But he was here. He was real. And he missed her.

“I missed you too,” she admits, the confession not feeling dangerous or terrifying. Instead, it felt as simple as breathing. It felt as easy as it always did when she was next to him. It felt like Paris.

Emma and Nico look at each other, the truth of their admission floating around them, seemingly enveloping them in that love-struck haze that they existed in months ago. In a different city. In a different country.

“I don’t know if this is way too forward but I’d like to take you on a date. Or, I guess another date. If that’s alright with you?” Nico asks, his words still hesitant. Emma responds with a gentle smile.

“That sounds perfect.”

“I can’t promise that it will be as magical as Paris though,” he laughs.

Emma’s expression falters a little at his words, the fears from Paris returning along with the joy. Their reunion felt enchanting right now but maybe the shock of seeing each other again after all those months was the only thing causing this sensation. Maybe after the moment died, the worry that invaded her mind in Paris would be proven true: that it was just the City of Love that fueled their connection.

Embrace it. All of it.

It is that small voice of bravery and vulnerability that sounds, the declaration echoing in her mind. Emma takes a deep breath, summoning the courage she felt in France and letting it fill her body, letting her heart guide her actions. She reaches out towards Nico, letting her hand creep closer to his, her fingers brushing over his skin.

The energy that surges between them when their fingers intertwine is powerful. Those fireworks sparkle stronger than anything before; stronger than the lights about them, stronger than all the lights on the Eiffel Tower. That electricity has Emma looking up at Nico, seeing the same emotions dancing on his face. That touch was proved a fact that they knew in their hearts to be true but their heads still doubted.

That this – whatever it was, whatever they shared those months ago… it wasn’t temporary. It wasn’t the city. This was real.

“Paris wasn’t the magical part.”