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ninamazing: Black-and-white close up of Cosima from Orphan Black smoking. (kaylee's the ultimate badass)
I OWE SOMEONE A BELATED BIRTHDAY PRESENT, AND THAT SOMEONE IS [livejournal.com profile] hjea! ([livejournal.com profile] ohvienna, IT WAS TOTALLY YOUR BIRTHDAY TOO and I would love to have written you Gene/Alex, but I am not canonified enough yet! MAYBE IT WILL COME. MORE WINE. ♥) Anyway, I love both of you; please stay in my life and in my LJ forever kthxbai. :D

Title: I Love New York
Part: 1 of 1
Author: [livejournal.com profile] ninamazing, or Nina
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker RPF because I am a BAD BAD GIRL *_*
Word Count: 2021
Rating: R
Author's Note: This is in no way real. Bridget Regan and Craig Horner would never do this. (They would probably do something MUCH HOTTER AND MORE AWESOME! I mean. What?)

He really is like an overexcited little boy. She tells him that the best part about New York is that you can discover something new in it even if you've been there a thousand times before, so it's never boring to show around a tourist. She winks at him; he grins at her. And the maxim holds true — they're walking just past St. Mark's Place when he points out a new Thai restaurant, and they go right in.

Craig keeps one eye on the waiter, who flirts with her; Bridget gets the feeling Craig would knock the guy a good one if he got fresh, put some of that fight training to use. Defending a woman's honor is something they still do, apparently, in Australia. She wishes maybe that she minded it — Kahlan could defend her own honor — but she's finding that she doesn't.

He sucks down his noodles like nothing has ever tasted this good, like she's worn him out as much as a week of horseback riding with just one day taking the subway. (It's not her fault, Bridget tells herself, that he decided to breakdance with the guys at the 42nd Street station.) Craig babbles at her between bites, clearly still not over how many books there were in Strand, and in her head she's planning what they'll do tomorrow. He has to have brunch at Sarabeth's, they wanted to skate at Rockefeller Center, and he asked to tour the Sesame Street castle in Central Park. And he hasn't seen Times Square yet; she supposes they need that on the list, if only because his mother will ask about it first thing.

When it turns out they can make their own cotton candy for dessert — those machines are a dime a dozen in the pan-Asian cuisine of the Village — Craigy lights up like a sunrise. It's impossible not to enjoy him.

His hands are still sticky when they descend, and they miss the first train because he can't get his card through the turnstile in time. It's strange, Bridget realizes, that that's how it happens; she wonders if she would have blamed Fate before she started reading epic fantasy novels. They have to wait forty minutes for the next express 2, and all that seafood curry catches up with her so that by the time they're moving she has to rest on Craig's shoulder and shut her eyes. He puts his arms around her, letting her snuggle in, and they listen to the fade of the voices and the music as they rumble back uptown.

Another hour and they have to transfer to a crosstown bus; Bridget is so oddly proud of Craig when he remembers where to go. When they find double seats, he opens his arms to her again with a smile, and even though it's only five or six blocks she figures what the hell.

Stumbling down the sidewalk, slipping in her key, watching the elevator arrow click up and up and up — it's just like so many nights of coming home half-drunk, only now she has a TV show and a hunky Australian costar who follows her around the City with wide eyes and licks bright pink sugar off his fingers. She looks over at him as they reach her floor, and he smiles back at her with that rare boyish certainty. It seems that time has gone by so very, very fast.

She drops her keys on the table and Craig turns on the light; he knows where all her switches are now, too.

"Drink?" she asks. "I feel like we should celebrate getting home, after me falling asleep on you and all."

"Sure," he says, and his easy smile reveals nothing and everything.

She grabs them both a beer, and they stand out on her tiny fire escape, trying to discern stars in the haze.

"So we're done with the Village," Bridget says, taking a hefty sip. "Unless you want to go back for one of those glass bongs."

"Actually ..." says Craig, and they both laugh. She can rest her head on his shoulder, briefly, without blinking an eye; but that invisible line between them is shifting and blurring and Bridget's afraid that at the bottom of this bottle she will no longer remember where it is.

"You've been a gorgeous host so far," Craig tells her, and winks. "Sweet-as. Thank you."

"No problem," she answers. There: Everything was fine three seconds ago, and now she's blushing to the backs of her ears and the world is spinning just a little bit faster on its axis. She shivers and he tucks an arm around her shoulders; they got used to that, in New Zealand — the automatic protection of each other. Two strangers in a strange land, pretending to be heroes in love.

Inside, they drop their empty bottles in recycling, and Bridget ducks into the bathroom while Craig folds out her sofa. She comes back in her pajamas, and he's sitting there, waiting, with a smile.

"Hi," he says, and because of that — or because of the way his hair is sticking up, or because of the way his toes poke out below the line of his jeans, or because of the way that grin on his face seems more beautiful than the one he'd give to anyone else — she doesn't walk to her bedroom. She steps between his knees, putting her hands on his shoulders, and when he leans up to kiss her she jumps into his lap and laughs. He grunts, reshuffling, wrapping his arms around her body, and kissing him here in her apartment is so different and so fantastic. He tastes, just vaguely, of the beer; his tongue is three times as daring without a cameraperson recording every move. Bridget digs her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, and as those biceps tighten across her back she can feel something else tighten against the poly-cotton blend between her legs.

"Pink," Craig mutters when they break to breathe, and it takes her a moment to catch his meaning. "Why would you wear pink? You trying to seduce me?"

She draws one finger, by the nail, along that delicious muscle in his neck. "Maybe," she says, twisting her lips like she's trying not to laugh. "Maybe you're just easy."

Craig makes a humming noise she could swear she's never heard before, and nibbles at her ear. She turns his head so she can taste his mouth again, and when she's had her fill she leans into him until he drops back into the bed and holds her still in his grasp.

"You haven't said yet that we shouldn't do this," says Bridget. She's surprised at how out of breath she sounds, but Craig doesn't seem to notice, or mind.

He grins up at her, all over again that cheeky little boy. "'Cause I don't think it's true," he tells her. "We should definitely do this."

"You are terrible," she scolds, but her words are muffled against his chest and she doesn't think he's listening too carefully. She unbuttons his shirt, licking the skin underneath as she goes, while his warm and playful hands roam over every part of her body he can reach. She's stood next to him, touched him, whispered in his ear so much by now that his sweat on her tongue feels like coming home; she'd know the salt-wash of him anywhere.

He doesn't let her get below his waist. He pulls her up, one palm gentle against the back of her neck, and kisses her soundly. When his hand travels between her legs, he nudges her nose with his and gazes up at her with wide eyes.

"My mouth wants to be here," he says softly. Even through a layer of slippery fabric, the pad of his finger is impressively close to her clit.

"Your mouth," she answers, rolling onto her back and tugging him with her, "is welcome anywhere."

She keeps her fingers in his hair, stroking the top of his head, as he slides down her body. He looks up at her, somehow flipping her insides with a half-second's gaze; the lust in his eyes belies the slowness with which he removes her — pink — pajama pants. She slithers out of her top, too, and giggles at his reaction.

"Get to it, Craigy," she teases, running the arch of her bare foot along his shoulder. "We've got an early morning tomorrow if you want to do any sightseeing."

He hovers, his lips so close to the skin of her legs, and pretends to weigh two items on an imaginary scale. "Your breasts," he says; "the Statue of Liberty. It's an easy choice."

She should have known better than to look away from him and start to laugh, because when she does his mouth is running along her thigh and pressing into her wetness so that her breath goes short and she has to shut her eyes and arch, greedily, into him. He makes a pleased noise that rumbles through his body, and holds her hips between his hands.

"Oh, Jesus," she hisses, helpless; she can feel the smooth line of his nose and the soft swipes of his tongue and the giddy, intoxicating warmth of his lips. She wants to keep him there as long as possible, but need is spilling from her lips and onto his, and that waterfall-crescendo is coming sure as anything. Her legs twitch; she gasps once, twice, three times; and Craig steadies her, sucks her clit in a final move that sends her crashing over the edge.

"Get ... up here," she orders weakly when she can see again, and he crawls up over her with a smile bigger than the Grand Canyon. She reaches for his belt, fumbles with the clasp of his pants, and he grins and kisses her forehead and finishes the job himself.

"Hi," he says again when he's poised over her, just like he did before at the side of the bed, and she laughs. He could have planned this all along, and yet he didn't — that's the charming thing about Craig.

"Come on," she says, and guides him between her spread legs. He's very nearly pulsing, and when she takes him in he expels a strangled little pant and his eyes narrow. Bridget strokes his cheek, and he takes only a moment to get his bearings before he kisses her like she's the only source of air in the room. He brings his hands to the sides of her head, and thrusts and thrusts until she feels herself falling once more toward blissful oblivion. She tilts her hips, deepening his access, and delights in his answering groan. Her ankles are crossed behind his back, and she's massaging his shoulders as best she can under the circumstances. Soon he has to raise his head, catch his breath, huff into the air above her face as they stretch and curve and push. She tenses her muscles around him, and he shouts and goes taut.

His hands are clumsy as they press into her cheeks; his fingers are hot and quick through her hair, across her forehead, as he comes back to himself. She grins into his eyes, amused at how familiar this is — they're both sweaty, euphoric, breathing like a couple of racehorses. This could have been another long few hours of an epic fight, except she didn't have to wear a corset for it.

"God, Bridget," Craig says at last, and lips her collarbone. She laughs.

"Have fun?"

"Did I," he says, his voice low, and settles that fuzzy head of hair against her chest.

"Tell me you love New York," she says, twirling his hair in her fingers. She can feel his smile — or half of it, anyway — pressing into her skin.

"I love New York," he tells her, and she lets out a happy sigh.

"Me, too."





(I also have for you the following:



which basically represents how I feel about you and anyone else who read and enjoyed this. :D :D :D :D

And in case any un-indoctrinated assholes clicked that cut, OBVIOUSLY FICS LIKE THIS ARE TOTALLY THEIR FAULT BECAUSE OF PICTURES LIKE THIS:



That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.)

Comments

ext_44668: (misc-lots peas & carrots)
[identity profile] hjea.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 4th, 2009 01:12 am (UTC)
THIS IS SO AWESOMELY AWESOME. YOU ARE THE QUEEN OF AWESOME, AND THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU. BELATED BIRTHDAY GIFTS FOR THE FLIPPING WIN.

And Bridget and Craigy! In New York! Doing things like breakdancing, and looking at Sesame Street in the park (THEY HAVE THAT?), and slurping noodles and GUH. Plus! I'm totally now relying on you to be my New York tour guide if/when I visit again--you're clearly on the pulse of cool things happening there. But! Back to my OMG, RPF ILU SQUEE!

Things I Loved; A Short and Hardly Comprehensive List:

She shivers and he tucks an arm around her shoulders; they got used to that, in New Zealand — the automatic protection of each other. Two strangers in a strange land, pretending to be heroes in love.

He grins up at her, all over again that cheeky little boy. "'Cause I don't think it's true," he tells her. "We should definitely do this."

"Get to it, Craigy," she teases, running the arch of her bare foot along his shoulder. "We've got an early morning tomorrow if you want to do any sightseeing."

"Tell me you love New York," she says, twirling his hair in her fingers. She can feel his smile — or half of it, anyway — pressing into her skin. "I love New York," he tells her, and she lets out a happy sigh. "Me, too."


They're so lovely and happy! And I'm just tickled that you don't have them deliberating over 'Oh, this is wrong, and we shouldn't...' No, they're young, they're happy, they like each other and they're having fun. Win-win(-win).

I'M GOING TO READ THIS ABOUT EIGHTY BAJILLION MORE TIMES AND THEN MAYBE SQUEE AT YOU SOME MORE. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME. And YOU--YOU'VE GOT SOME SERIOUS LOVIN' OWING FROM MY END.

&hearts
[identity profile] ninamazing.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 4th, 2009 01:18 am (UTC)
:D :D :D :D

See, this is why I write things for you. BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS LEAVE THE AWESOMEST COMMENTS OMG ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am so happy to have pleased you. Literally, my grin is this big.

I was referring to Belvedere Castle a.k.a. the Lair of Count von Count! :DDDDDDDD I am a total dork and so loved it. I even have pictures. And I am really afraid that this might come off touristy-sounding to a REAL New Yorker, but it is cheeky RPF so I decided I didn't care. *_* And I would ABSOLUTELY LOVE TO FROLIC IN NYC WITH YOU.

Ahahaha, someone just drove by my window playing Rammstein. How classic. ANYWAY.

I love you a lot! And OMG, all those parts you loved were parts I was hoping you would love! WHICH IS JUST SO EXCELLENT.

Happy birthday to you, def. :)

Edited 2009-07-04 01:18 am (UTC)
[identity profile] jadariver18.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 4th, 2009 01:22 am (UTC)
*is speechless*

She drops her keys on the table and Craig turns on the light; he knows where all her switches are now, too.

APPARENTLY SO, CRAIGY! GLAD YOU TOOK THE TIME TO MAKE SURE YOU KNEW WHERE THOSE SWITCHES ARE! Bridget and Craig are so hot. :DDD I'll be giggling for the whole next LotS episode I watch.

This is a fantastic success, dearie. A FANTABULOUSLY FANTABULOUS success. SO SEXY HOT! :) In the words of Gordo from The Right Stuff:

"Who's the best [erotica writer] you ever [read a fic by]? You're [reading a fic by said erotica writer]!"
[identity profile] ninamazing.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 6th, 2009 02:59 am (UTC)
You already know how much I enjoy this comment. It is epic. Thank you. :D :D :D :D

♥!!!

(and EEE, icon twins! isn't [livejournal.com profile] hjea a genius?)
[identity profile] deej.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 4th, 2009 01:45 am (UTC)
HOLY HOLY HOLY. This is like an oasis of awesome in the lj desert of summer hiatus! I learnt more about NY in 3 paragraphs right there than in my entire life!

YAY:
  • She wishes maybe that she minded it — Kahlan could defend her own honor — but she's finding that she doesn't.
    Eeee Bridget/Kahlan comparisons! And it's that whole ‘I'm a modern woman i can defend myself’ vs ‘I'm a modern woman who doesn't mind the caring sincerity of being protected’ issue that can be so hard to reconcile — love it hard.
  • SWEET AS! YOU LITTLE BEAUTY!
  • She can rest her head on his shoulder, briefly, without blinking an eye; but that invisible line between them is shifting and blurring and Bridget's afraid that at the bottom of this bottle she will no longer remember where it is.
    *strangled cry of awe*
  • She's stood next to him, touched him, whispered in his ear so much by now that his sweat on her tongue feels like coming home; she'd know the salt-wash of him anywhere.
    I love this description of their physical familiarity. Eeee.
  • CRAIG LOVES GIVING HEAD. IT IS FANON NAO!
  • Bridget strokes his cheek, and he takes only a moment to get his bearings
    I'm having flashbacks to that moment in Revenant when not!Kahlan places her hand on not!Richard's face and does that intense eyesexing thing before they get all rampantly hot together. IT'S ORSUM. YOU'RE MAKING ME SEE THESE THINGS!
  • INY

And IYOU.
[identity profile] ninamazing.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 6th, 2009 03:01 am (UTC)
EEEE I AM SO GLAD TO HEAR THAT! :D :D :D :D THAT IS HIGH PRAISE INDEED. BECAUSE I MISS THIS SHOW SOOO MUCH ... IT MADE ME SO HAPPY. ♥

SWEET AS! YOU LITTLE BEAUTY!

♥ ♥ *preens* YOU ARE FANTABULOUS.

CRAIG LOVES GIVING HEAD. IT IS FANON NAO!

I TOTALLY DID THAT ON PURPOSE

:D :D :D :D

I am so glad I made you see things that were OMG ORSUM. AND I GOT RED HEARTS. You have nooooo idea how special that makes me feel.
[identity profile] noblealice.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 4th, 2009 02:21 am (UTC)
+ Craig break-dancing!
+ Bridget knowing what his mother will ask about!
+ COTTON CANDY! STICKY PINK FINGERS!
+ All of your descriptions of his smile, the best is "Craigy lights up like a sunrise"
+ HIS TOOOOOES. PEEKING OUT!
+ how he's such a cheeky little boy with an infectious energy but still so confident
+ they RECYCLE! hee!
+ there's no angsting of whether or not they should do this, they know that their sex will be fantastic!

Then it gets incredibly sexy and hot and yet still COMFORTABLE and THEM in a way and I want to quote it all but I also want to be alone with it in a dark corner for some time.

Seriously, this bit:

When his hand travels between her legs, he nudges her nose with his and gazes up at her with wide eyes.

"My mouth wants to be here," he says softly.


is just SO HOT. LIKE BURNING.


(I call that pic their "LION FACE" and lament that we don't have a corresponding "LEMON FACE" to go with it.)
[identity profile] ninamazing.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 6th, 2009 03:03 am (UTC)
AAAAH LION FACE / LEMON FACE YOU MADE MY DAY WITH THAT CLIP THANK YOU VM OMG ♥ ♥ ♥

I am so, so, so glad you enjoyed this. It's like you picked out all the things I was worried about / hoping people would like and appreciated them! MAAAAAH-VELOUS, darling. I hope you stay in your happy dark corner with my story as long as you like. :D :D :D

CRAIGGGYYYY BRIDGET AAAH
[identity profile] marble-rose.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 4th, 2009 05:06 am (UTC)
Um. So I know it's not my birthday, so this fic isn't for me, but damn it, IT FEELS LIKE IT IS.

"My mouth wants to be here," he says softly.

THIS. *swoons*

I would choose Bridget's breasts over the Statue of Liberty, too.

Blah, people who get all uppity about RPF and criticize the people (like me) who like it really annoy me. I get that some people are squeamish about it and think it's an invasion of privacy, but. So is trolling the internet for candid shots of Billie Piper and reading articles about who David Tennant's currently dating. Not that there's anything wrong with either of those. God knows I have a fondness for Billie's legs... it would just be nice if people wouldn't split hairs.
[identity profile] ninamazing.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 6th, 2009 03:06 am (UTC)
THAT IS SO EXCITING. I love to please you! :D :D :D :D

I would choose Bridget's breasts over the Statue of Liberty, too.

HA. YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE, MY FRIEND. ♥ We make wise decisions.

God knows I have a fondness for Billie's legs... it would just be nice if people wouldn't split hairs.

THIS. Moralizing about RPF always seems to come from people who are just trying to make themselves feel better about being creepy paparazzi-types in person. At least in my experience. I was all O_O about it before, but then I met a few people who were really into it and I realized that they took it FAR less seriously than the people who condemned it. Ironic. :P

♥!!!!!!!
[identity profile] olaf47.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 4th, 2009 05:53 am (UTC)
I read it and liked it and I have no idea who those people are!

And my boyfriend's drunk best friend, who I've never met, gave me a high five over the phone last night. It was brilliant.
[identity profile] ninamazing.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 6th, 2009 03:06 am (UTC)
That is really exciting! And such a compliment that you even read it! THANK YOU! :D

Ahahahaha, omg. How did that work? Did he just make a slap sound in your ear? :P
[identity profile] ohvienna.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 8th, 2009 02:59 am (UTC)
IT WAS TOTALLY YOUR BIRTHDAY TOO and I would love to have written you Gene/Alex, but I am not canonified enough yet! MAYBE IT WILL COME. MORE WINE

HAHA, THAT IS OKAY I WILL JUST STEAL THIS FUCKING HAWT ONE ALSDJFASLFJSALFJASLFKJASLFJSALDFJA;SL FROM [livejournal.com profile] hjea. ♥ ;) ;) Thank you thank you for the b-day thoughts! *clinks wine glasses*

I really want my favorite St. Mark's Thai food for lunch tomorrow now, and I will soooo be thinking about Craig and Bridget running about whilst doing so. :DDDDDDDD
[identity profile] ninamazing.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 17th, 2009 06:01 am (UTC)
:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKED THIS ESPECIALLY BECAUSE YOU ARE A REAL NEW YORKER AND I WAS HOPING IT WOULD NOT OFFEND YOU TOO MUCH.

*clinks wine glasses back* Much, MUCH happy. ♥ ♥
[identity profile] noblealice.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 27th, 2009 06:19 pm (UTC)
ACK! NINA! I want to rec this to someone who is new to the RPFs and is on the verge of writing me some BUT IT IS LOCKED! How can I spread your awesome now?!!! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY AND THUS NEEDS A MORD SITH ICON!!!!
[identity profile] ninamazing.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 30th, 2009 08:58 pm (UTC)
OOOH WELL I JUST PUBLICKED IT. *_* Emergency averted! I am so flattered someone else wants to read this! And I hope random passersby to my LJ do not judge me. ;)

♥♥
[identity profile] timeblind.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 31st, 2009 05:21 am (UTC)
It might take me awhile to write something as I'm dead tired from working everyday but I will definitely try whenever I have my next day off! *_*
[identity profile] timeblind.livejournal.com wrote:
Jul. 31st, 2009 05:19 am (UTC)
but that invisible line between them is shifting and blurring and Bridget's afraid that at the bottom of this bottle she will no longer remember where it is. - oh, that is just beautifully written... ♥

and as those biceps tighten across her back she can feel something else tighten against the poly-cotton blend between her legs. - *g* i don't even know which is hotter... arm porn or um... porn pron. *_*

"My mouth wants to be here," he says softly. Even through a layer of slippery fabric, the pad of his finger is impressively close to her clit.

"Your mouth," she answers, rolling onto her back and tugging him with her, "is welcome anywhere."
- that is so effing hot. my eyes are watering from the hotness.

"Hi," he says again when he's poised over her, just like he did before at the side of the bed, and she laughs. - omg that's so cute. LOL. it's so hot and cute at the same time... guh.

actually, the entire thing is hot. so y'know. YOU WIN AT LIFE.

thanks for unlocking this so i can read it! ♥ ♥ ♥
[identity profile] pathstotread.livejournal.com wrote:
Feb. 24th, 2010 07:54 pm (UTC)
I have no idea how I've never read this before, but oh it's so great. BRIDGET AND CRAIGY AND NEW YORK. Such a good combination.

DON'T PANIC

We celebrate peace. Yet we pay no attention to the ways of curing aggression in human beings. And when one sees in psychoanalysis hostility disappearing as people conquer their fears, one wonders if the cure is not there.
The Diary of Anaïs Nin; August, 1945

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