#Green Carpet Cleaning Georgia

[mysteamgreenccphoenix]

Exploring Artistic Marvels at Phoenix Art Museum in Phoenix, AZ

Nestled in the lively city of Phoenix, AZ, the Phoenix Art Museum is a cultural sanctuary renowned for its diverse and captivating collection of artistic masterpieces. This esteemed institution offers visitors an enriching journey through various cultural expressions, showcasing artworks spanning different epochs, styles, and geographical origins. Whether you're a seasoned art aficionado or an inquisitive visitor, the Phoenix Art Museum promises an immersive experience with its rich exhibits and compelling presentations.

American Art Collection

The American Art Collection at the Phoenix Art Museum presents a vibrant panorama of creativity from colonial times to the contemporary era. Featuring iconic pieces by revered American artists such as Georgia O’Keeffe, Norman Rockwell, and Frederic Remington, this collection vividly portrays the evolution of American artistic sensibilities. Visitors can explore themes of identity, landscapes, and creative innovation that reflect the diverse cultural tapestry of the United States across centuries.

European Art Gallery

The European Art Gallery offers an immersive exploration into Europe's rich artistic traditions from the Renaissance to modern times. Showcasing masterpieces by renowned artists such as Claude Monet, Pablo Picasso, and Vincent van Gogh, this gallery provides a curated journey through pivotal movements like Impressionism, Baroque, and Modernism. The gallery's carefully selected exhibits transport visitors to the cultural heart of Europe, making it an essential destination within the museum.

Asian Art Collection

The Asian Art Collection at the Phoenix Art Museum celebrates the profound artistic heritage of Asia with exquisite artifacts from China, Japan, India, and Southeast Asia. Spanning ancient relics to contemporary artworks, this collection features intricate ceramics, delicate textiles, and striking sculptures that embody the unique aesthetics and cultural narratives of each region. The Asian Art Gallery offers a contemplative space for visitors to appreciate the beauty and complexity of Asian artistry.

Contemporary Art Exhibitions

The Contemporary Art Exhibitions at the Phoenix Art Museum showcase cutting-edge works by contemporary artists worldwide. This dynamic collection encompasses diverse media, including painting, sculpture, photography, and digital art, exploring current social, political, and environmental themes. The museum's commitment to presenting innovative and thought-provoking art ensures a continually evolving experience that challenges visitors to engage critically with contemporary issues.

The Phoenix Art Museum in Phoenix, AZ, stands as a premier cultural institution, providing a multifaceted and enriching exploration of global artistic traditions. From the iconic pieces in the American and European art collections to the serene elegance of Asian art and the stimulating contemporary exhibitions, the museum invites visitors to immerse themselves in a comprehensive cultural experience.

[wovenruggallerypgh]

The History and Beauty of Antique Caucasian Rugs

Antique rug and carpet hold a timeless allure that transcends generations, and among the most captivating are the antique Caucasian rugs. Originating from the Caucasus region, which encompasses present-day countries such as Azerbaijan, Armenia, Georgia, and parts of Iran and Turkey, these rugs are cherished for their rich history, exquisite craftsmanship, and unique designs. In this blog post, we will delve into the fascinating world of antique Caucasian rugs, exploring their origins, distinctive characteristics, and enduring beauty.

Origins and Cultural Significance

The Caucasus region has been a crossroads of various civilizations, with rug weaving dating back thousands of years. Antique Caucasian rugs are deeply rooted in the cultural heritage of the diverse ethnic groups that inhabited the area. Each tribe and village had its distinct weaving techniques, motifs, and color palettes, resulting in a diverse range of rug styles within the Caucasian rug category.

Distinctive Characteristics

Antique Caucasian rugs are renowned for their bold and dynamic designs, reflecting the vibrant cultural traditions and influences of the region. Some common characteristics that define these rugs include:

Geometric Patterns: Geometric motifs dominate the designs of Caucasian rugs. These motifs often include hexagons, diamonds, stars, and intricate latchhook patterns. The precise execution of these geometric designs showcases the skill and precision of the weavers.

Rich Color Palette: Antique Caucasian rugs feature a captivating array of colors, ranging from warm reds and blues to vibrant greens and yellows. Natural dyes derived from plants, insects, and minerals were predominantly used, resulting in rich, earthy hues that age beautifully over time.

Flat-Woven Structure: Most Caucasian rugs are woven using the flat-weave technique, known as the "kilim" technique. This technique creates a flat, reversible rug without a pile. The absence of a pile allows for intricate and sharp design elements to be displayed clearly.

Durability and Quality: Antique Caucasian rugs are renowned for their exceptional durability and quality craftsmanship. They were woven using high-quality wool sourced from local sheep, which provided strength and resilience to the rugs. The meticulous weaving techniques ensured that these rugs could withstand the test of time.

Enduring Beauty and Collectability

The beauty of antique Caucasian rugs lies in their ability to seamlessly blend into various interior styles, from traditional to modern. These antique rug and carpet serve as captivating focal points, adding warmth, character, and a sense of history to any space. Their intricate designs and rich color palettes can effortlessly enhance both contemporary and traditional decors.

Due to their scarcity and historical significance, antique Caucasian rugs have become highly collectible. Rug enthusiasts and collectors appreciate the unique artistic expressions, cultural narratives, and technical mastery displayed in these rugs. Owning an antique Caucasian rug is not only a testament to the beauty of the craft but also a connection to the rich heritage and traditions of the Caucasus region.

Preserving Antique Caucasian Rugs

To ensure the longevity of antique Caucasian rugs, proper care and maintenance are essential. Regular vacuuming, rotating the rug to distribute foot traffic, and protecting it from direct sunlight are key measures to preserve its beauty and integrity. Additionally, professional cleaning and restoration services can help revive and maintain the rug's vibrant colors and structural integrity.

Conclusion

Antique Caucasian rugs are exquisite works of art that showcase the skilled craftsmanship, cultural heritage, and artistic traditions of the Caucasus region. Their bold geometric designs, rich color palettes, and enduring beauty continue to captivate rug enthusiasts and collectors worldwide. Owning an antique Caucasian rug not only adds elegance and charm to your space but also allows you to cherish a piece of history and appreciate the remarkable artistry of the weavers.

[maxdirect]

Floormax delivers eco-friendly flooring at factory direct pricing

If you are considering remodeling a room or an entire home, there are so many flooring options available why not consider eco-friendly flooring. Whether you are looking for tile, laminate, carpet, wood, resilient or luxury vinyl tiles or planks, there is an eco-friendly or sustainable—“green” option for your consideration. If you think back, there was a time, not too long ago when we may have thought of eco-friendly flooring options as boring or blah…. That is no longer the case. Eco-friendly flooring is not only fashionable, but also provides a host of other benefits. Ask your FloorMax flooring consultant about eco- friendly or sustainable flooring options. Here is the FloorMax top 10 list of eco-friendly, sustainable, “green” and renewable flooring options to consider: Bamboo

Bamboo (typically a grass, which grows to maturity in 2-5 years) is a sustainable, fast growing option that is harder than some wood.

Linoleum

Linoleum is created from tree resins, linseed oil, wood flour, cork dust, natural pigments and limestone. It is flame and water resistant.

Glass tiles

Made from recycled glass bottles, glass won’t mold, mildew or stain

And comes in a spectrum of colors.

P.E.T carpet

Is constructed from recycled plastic bottles, and has a minimal impact to the environment

Wool carpet

Wool is grown, it is not man-made. Here are a few benefits to wool.

Wool is hypo allergenic

Wool is flame resistant

Wool helps maintain internal air quality

Wool provides humidity control

Wool is easy to clean

Rubber

Made from recycled tires. Once meant only for commercial areas like playgrounds or gyms, it’s finding its way into our kitchens, baths and kids rooms.

Reclaimed or Salvaged Hardwood

Reclaimed/ Salvaged wood reuses wood from trees that were cut down long ago.

Since 1981, FloorMax is a family owned and operated discount flooring operation serving the greater Atlanta, GA, greater Chattanooga, TN, greater Birmingham, AL, greater Nashville, TN, greater Orlando, FL and of course our showroom located in “the flooring capital of the world”, Dalton GA. When it comes to eco-friendly flooring, your one-stop shop is FloorMax.

We are an All-American family owned and operated flooring business. Serving customers since 1981, we have successfully served the flooring needs of our customers nationwide. We are located in ‟The Flooring Capital of the World", Dalton, Georgia, which enables us to save you money on brand name flooring manufacturers. We take pride in providing our customers with quality flooring at exceptional prices. OUR MISSION To earn and endear customers for life by exceeding expectations in providing quality flooring at exceptional prices. OUR GOAL To offer customers tremendous savings on a diverse selection of quality flooring.

For more details on our products and services, please feel free to visit us at: DALTON FLOORING, CORTEC FLOORING GA, PERGO FLOORING GA & ARMSTRONG FLOORING GA.

Please feel free to visit us at: https://www.floormaxdirect.com/

[allfreshcarpetcleanersrr]

The Secrets To Hot Water Extraction Are Revealed

Carpets protect the floors and ladders in various industrial and residential buildings. With constant foot traffic, the carpet begins to accumulate soil, develop spots, and emit an unpleasant odor. The naked eye cannot see the dust and allergen, but bacteria still present on the carpet to induce respiratory problems. Visit the article to read more.

Visit- https://bit.ly/2STO3kH

[fif-service-blog]

FLOOR CARE VALUABLE INFORMATION YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT FLOOR CLEANING

If you are an owner of a huge organization and you realize the fact that it is important to keep your floor clear from any kind of dirt and dust it’s also very important to keep your carpet cleaning investment maintained as rough usage of certain floors could serious damage to your floor. If you aren’t up for the task of floor cleaning as it might take hours and hours to sweep and mop the floor you might take the assistance of floor cleaning services. They not only assist you to perform the job accurately but also it’s cost effective to hire a team of professionals and get your job done.

Here are some facts about keeping your floor clean and tidy and save your floor from being damaged.

1.       People around the world doesn’t realize the fact that everybody shed some significant amount of dirt on the floor which can be kept clean and tidy if we use separate shoes of flip flop for our floors. This isn’t possible in commercial buildings where thousands of traffic is generated every hour and you must go for a professional clean up after every 18 months.

2.       2. Your bathroom floors are the most germ filled areas and you must clean your bathrooms with disinfectants and you must remove the carpets in the bathrooms and get them washed on daily basis.

3.       Hiring professional help has also become a necessity in modern times. With huge work places and commercial buildings you must go for a professional floor cleaning services after every 18 months.

4.       If you are choosing a carpeted floor for your place then you must take the daunting task of vacuuming it regularly.

5.       You can also use disinfectants while cleaning of your floor it can keep you away from diseases and germs.

6.       You must also use regular vacuuming of the floor to keep the dirt and dust away from the floor.

7.       Deep penetration of soil and dirt under the carpet could cause serious health issues therefore you must go for the processes like hot water extraction or encapsulation.

8.       You must also take care of the molds under your carpet these molds could grow faster if there is moisture under your carpet and could destroy your floor.

9.       Often the moisture comes from the broken or damaged sewerage lines and could leave the dampness in your carpet.

10.   If there are marks of contamination on your floor you must ask for professional help to make your carpet safe and tidy.

There many other DIY hacks that you can apply on your carpet to keep it away from dirt and dust but the most important thing are to use those disinfectants on your floor that couldn’t cause serious damage to your health or to your floor. Before plunging into any contract for floor cleaning services you must look into the kind of machinery they are going to employ and the disinfectants in use.

[unholyhelbig]

We Sold Our Souls | Chloe

Read Beca's Chapter Here | Read on AO3 here

Summer 1985

The Diner on 10th and Jefferson was not an inhabitable establishment. The floor was once a glimmering white that had faded to a musty brown. You could see where the tables had been situated because underneath was still the original color- not the dingy, ketchup-stained mess. A window unit sputtered as it pulled in hot air and the sound of sheets of meat sizzled and popped on day-old grease.

There was flypaper tacked to the ceiling and they spun as the warm air shifted it. It wasn’t brown, not like the floor, it was black with squirming legs and tired wings. Chloe watched, sweat dripping from her nose, as one particularly large one tested his luck and failed.

The boombox in the corner crackled and competed with the sound of two number sevens being placed on the counter. The antenna was stretching to the sky and they only got a slight signal for KWBT, the best Rock music in the county.

Chloe perked up, her spine straightening as Brock Argent’s rumbling voice filled the small area behind the counter. She ignored the way the cook stared at her, sweat beading against his greasy forehead, as she shushed him and turned the dial. She knew what he was going to say, and he didn’t push any more than he already had.

She hadn’t stopped talking about ‘The Ramones’ New Album. It was advertised with neon yellow and orange posters all around town. No one could tell if it was from the record label or some die-hard fans that had too much time on their hands. Either way, everyone knew about it, and that everyone included Brock Argent and the KWBT team. They had made a big deal about getting their hands on a copy.

“Alright you crazy people, I know we’ve been teasing this one for a long while, but we’ve got a good one for you today!” Brock’s tone was so deep that it shook the upturned milk glasses on the counter.  “Here’s Pet Cemetery by the Ramones. Some seriously creepy stuff!”

Chloe felt the greasy diner and the sharp scent of fry oil leave her all at once. The second the first guitar chord struck the airwaves she had fallen so contently into the melody. Joey Ramone’s deep growl hissed and churned and made her stomach feel like soup. Johnny pressed down hard on the guitar strings and Tommy backed him up with a solid beat on the drum kit.

She ignored the way the cook eyed her cautiously as the steaming food on the counter attracted one of the flies that the paper hadn’t attracted. He was growing impatient as the lead belted out words about pets with their ribs crushed and their hearts gnawed pulling from the dirt. It mirrored that horrible book by Stephen King, the one that the schools banned, and the PTA moms fussed about until their veins splattered.

Finally, the song faded out and Chloe gave a grateful smile to the man in front of her before palming the cold plates and taking them to the couple that sat in the back booth. The woman slathered her pile of fries with a generous helping of ketchup and the man seemed to hate the idea of eating altogether.

Chloe didn’t’ notice when the cook turned down the radio for the rest of her shift. She was sore from mopping and wiping down all of the tables that were still sticky despite how much elbow she put into it. He watched her mount her bike and flick on the light that dawned its front despite the sun not fully being down, before he backed out of the parking lot himself and left their second lives behind, at least for a few hours.

She was mostly tipped change today and it rattled in the pockets of her apron as she took the side streets back to their run-down home. It had been nice once- at least that’s what the pictures tacked to the stained green refrigerator portrayed.

She shoved cake into her face with her vibrant mother holding her close. They all looked so clean despite the mess of pastry. There was light in their eyes and sugar in their systems and the old polaroid was a constant reminder to Chloe of the way things had been. The way she wishes they were.

The thought pulled at the back of her throat as she slowed her bike when the front tire met the Mitchell’s driveway. It gave her just enough speed to get over the dip on her own and pull the old blue contraption next to the garage. She could sandwich it between the trashcan and the side of the house. No one would take it, not in their small, rundown town. She flicked off the front light, reveling in the darkness for a few moments.

It was never silent, not here, not this close to the front door where the screen kept the lightning bugs out but no sound in. Her three younger brothers were blasting the television, all of them with their noses pressed to the static screen as MacGyver got himself out of whatever situation he was thrown into.

But over that, she heard her parents.

Her mother and her stepfather screamed loud enough for the whole block to hear them. It made Chloe’s jaw ache- how much they hated each other. They lived together out of spite, and because the boys needed a good role model.

But Rick, Rick hated Chloe just as much as he hated her mother. She wasn’t his and that had ebbed some deep resentment in him that she didn’t understand, nor did she care to. Not as she snuck in through the front door and trudged to her room. She was careful to toe her shoes off by the door, despite the pungent smell the house admitted.

It was considered rude to track mud, though no one had vacuumed in months at this point. No one had changed the lights or addressed the water stains that browned the ceiling above them. There was food on the table, most of the time, and hot water in the lead pipes. So Rick was doing his job and from the sound of the screaming match, Lauren was not.

Chloe tuned it all out.

She focused on the rifts she had heard this afternoon at the diner, and the satisfaction she got when she pulled the jar from the back of her closet, behind her 45’s and an old rolled poster of the Bay City Rollers that she had scored at an old thrift store and hung because the colors were vibrant.

As soon as Chloe could, as soon as she blew out the candle on her cupcake for her 18th birthday in front of that stupid polaroid and that puke green appliance, she would leave this tiny town. She would leave her brothers, and the dirty carpet, and stupid Rick, and even Lauren.

She would meet Joey Ramone, they would get married and she would never have to hear muffled screams and broken glass again- not unless it was at a concert that she was playing.

There was a glass of water on the table in front of Chloe Beale, but she hadn’t reached for it. There was some sinister part of her that considered it a test; there wasn’t a pitcher to refill it or anything else on the stark white surface. Just one singular cup that was free of any blemishes and water pushed to the near brim.

She was on a sofa that matched the rest of the room, stark and unfeeling. There wasn’t personality here; other than her and that stupid taunting glass, there was nothing. It could have been the waiting area in a place that detailed cars, but it wasn’t. She didn’t’ know what it was and she didn’t’ know if the water was a test- so she left it.

Her boots were the blackest thing, sharp like the night, against the white carpet. She got the sinking feeling that she should have taken them off by the door, though the secretary that lead her in here hadn’t told her to do so. Chloe wasn’t a child, not anymore, and Chloe could make her own choices. Like taking a gulp of water to quench the dry heat in her throat or taking her shoes off.

Rick would have made her take her shoes off.

Rick had killed her mother when she was at a concert in Orlando. She had saved up to get the tickets and she had had a fun, normal, road trip with the girls. They ate terribly and broke down in Georgia where they baked in the heat and splurged on ice cream cones that turned into a soupy mess in a matter of seconds. Chloe was happy then, and she had the polaroid tacked up on the corner of her apartment.

Thought the lights had been shut off a few times, and she and Beca had to eat all the ice cream and leftover pizza, and milk each time they did fade away, she kept it there. Her stomach would ache and her brow would sweat but they would fall asleep on the floor and the picture of her last happy moment would gape down at her- not mocking, but reminding.

They saw the yellow tape when Beca pulled the Monza to the edge of her driveway. Chloe let the rubber tire hit the corner of the driveway first, just like she used to do with her second-hand bike. Beca protested as she pushed the door open and flung herself towards her own home. A cop that shadowed his eyes with a large cap grabbed her by the middle and stopped her.

“That’s my house!” She had shouted, letting herself be lowered to the wet grass. “What happened? That’s my house! That’s my house!”

It had stopped being her house a long time ago when her father died of cancer and her mother met Rick, the anesthesiologist with the calm temper and the two boys from a previous marriage, and the one son that they shared together.

Chloe had spent most of her free time in Beca’s room now, staring up at the posters that weren’t of the Bay City Rollers on the ceiling. They both laid close to one another and she had memorized the features of Metallica and Stix and Beca’s breathing patterns, and the way the Charvel rested in the corner, with its off-white color.

Beca’s mother always had dinner on the table and always had enough for all three of them. Beca’s mom was interesting and kind. She was still alive when the summer of 88’ came to an end. She hadn’t heard the gunshots but she had smelt the blood- she said she was a nurse and she knew the scent of decay anywhere.

Rick shot Chloe’s mom in the head while her back was to him, and Chloe had always said he was a coward. He killed the boys too, straight shots with a gun Lauren had purchased him for Christmas because his new hobby would be hunting. As far as Chloe knew, the only shots he fired were that day, and the last when he ever did tore up his throat and painted the wall behind him.

She should take her shoes off and drink some water while she waits and wishes for wine. The secretary told her that he was running late and that she was welcomed to anything. But she didn’t’ feel welcome to the water, and really, she should have taken her shoes off, because the carpet was pristine, and the bottom of her boots were anything but.

Winter 1994

Snow fell in thick, wet drops against the pavement. It had barely started but picked up by the time Chloe ascended the stairs of the venue and tracked down Beca. The girl looked ragged, worn down, and thick with sorrow. She was moving her tongue against the edge of a cigar she had sliced with the pocket knife clipped to her jeans.

The sickly-sweet scent of weed followed the sparking of a lighter and the cold breeze that edged the nearly empty street. She leaned against the side of the van, next to a sizeable dent that had been there when they purchased it. When we’re famous she had said this won’t matter and we’ll be able to afford a van that isn’t half-totaled.

Beca pulled in a hot breath of marijuana, the tip burning hot and fast. She pushed the smoke through her those and passed it to Chloe who took it wordlessly and revealed in the sour film that coated her tongue and her teeth and her throat. A few more of those and she would be able to forget the disaster of tonight.

“Maybe I should have gone into accounting,” Beca said.

“You hate math.”

“That wasn’t my point,”

“I know. I just think that If you want to go back in time and choose MIT over your garage in the winter you should pick something you like. Not math. You’re not even good at math.”

Beca frowned and snatched the joint back. She wedged it between her teeth and gave Chloe the finger, the tattoos against her knuckles catching the red glowing light of the sign that hung above them. It buzzed like the flies Chloe had always hated- for some reason, more than spiders and moths, but she couldn’t’ recall now.

“Aubrey would have had a million things decided by now, you know? I don’t’ even need to prompt the woman before she brings up Julliard. Next thing; she’s going to be bitching about her back hurting from carrying the band.”

Chloe laughed sadly at that because she knew it was something Aubrey would say with that docile fire in her eyes. But through all of this, Aubrey was the best bass player that she had ever met and Beca had the right voice for them- but none of them ever said it. None of them ever dared that she would be better suited to part her ax down and grip the microphone instead.

“Are you?”

“What?”

She hadn’t noticed Beca was staring at her expectantly. Not only holding out the blunt, which she took and sandwiched between her lips, but with a question. Beca’s stare was dark, shaded in crimson, and glazed over because something was hitting; be the alcohol that she had consumed during the show or the slow crossfade that was humming happily through her now.

“Are you ready to give up?”

“Beca, this is all I’ve ever wanted.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

She swallowed hard and tried to dull the pain of the flames at her throat. Red and hot and a lot like the stories plastered on the news not too long ago. Her stomach felt fuzzy and her brain did too and she suddenly felt like following Beca out here was a bad idea. A terrible idea, really.

Chloe let the end of the roll hit the ground. There was no need to stomp it out. The color faded away in the puddle of dingy water that had collected as they talked. She didn’t’ mind the cool embrace of the large drops that felt more like snow and stung like an insect bite. It kept her steady and grounded.

“I heard what you asked, and I told you this is all I’ve ever wanted.” Chloe sniffed, “I don’t’ care how long it takes to get there. It’s me and you, kid.”

Beca’s clouded stare softened, and she laughed loudly because at this point- standing in the rain, the two of them, she didn’t’ know if they had much longer at all. Not as a band, not as friends, not as that odd drunken mess they escalated to when they weren’t.

The scent of weed mixed with the wet odor of Portland and beer. Chloe curled her fingers around Beca’s, both cold and clammy, and the gesture hurt. It stung the bandages wrapped around Beca’s fingers and hummed at the pain in the back of Chloe’s head, where she figured a scar would be one day.

[collecting-stories]

Thanksgiving - ep. 04 - Georgia

Summary: It’s Thanksgiving in King County and you won’t let Daryl celebrate alone. 

A/N: I’m really going for the slowburn this time. 

Georgia Masterlist | The Walking Dead Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“Nice backpack,” Rick laughed, picking the bright yellow backpack up from the lawn chair.

“It ain’t mine.” He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette.

Rick had come over for beers. An odd night off from work without the academy in the morning he had decided to stop ‘round at Daryl’s. It was already dark out when he’d pulled up outside his best friend’s house and Daryl was working on a jeep by the light of the carport. When he walked up he’d spotted the backpack sitting there, an odd contrast to anything else lying around.  

“Didn’t think it was.” Rick replied, “so who’s the girl?”

“Don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout.”  

“There’s a Jeep in your driveway and some girl’s backpack in your truck.” Rick pointed out, “you know, I’m a cop, I’m trained to notice these things.”

“Ya ain’t a cop yet.” Daryl muttered, heading over to the fridge and grabbing a beer.  

“So?”

“I’m fixing someone’s car and she left her bag. That’s all.”  

Daryl had realized that you left your backpack there after he drove you home on Sunday night. He’d gotten all the way back home when he saw your bright yellow backpack sitting on the floor of his truck. He had called you when he got inside. He felt stupid, standing in the kitchen with the phone pressed to his ear, waiting for you to answer like he was some dumb high school kid.  

You had answered after the second ring, “Hello?”

“Hey...it’s Daryl, ya left yer bag in my truck.”  

“Oh my gosh...I totally did, didn’t I? I'm so sorry.”  

“It’s alright. Ya want me ta drop it off?” He asked.  

“Are you at the garage tomorrow morning? Glenn is driving me to school, we could stop and I could grab it?” You asked, unsure how else you were going to get the backpack. You couldn’t leave now that you were home or your mom would get suspicious. She knew Maggie was grounded and there was no way she’d let you out after dark to hang out with Glenn or Tara or Rosita.  

“Yeah I’ll be there.”  

Somehow the bright yellow monstrosity had ended up back in Daryl’s possession. It wasn’t much of a mystery though. You had stopped, just like you said you would, before school in the morning. While you were there you had mentioned getting the second payment to him that afternoon. Part of that agreement somehow involved driving you from school to the diner where your bag had once again been forsaken in his truck.  

Now he had to figure out how to get it to you all over again and Rick was trying to rifle through it. “Would ya quit that?” Daryl grumbled, grabbing the bag and putting it back in his truck. He had set it on the chair so he didn’t forget it but Rick was bothering him.

“I just wanna know who she is,” Rick replied. “College student.”

“I told ya I’m just fixing a car.”  

“Please tell me she’s at least 18 D.”

“It ain’t like that.” Daryl slammed the truck door shut and glared at him, face flush at the accusation that he thought of you in a way that wasn’t just a client. “I’m fixing a car.”

“Alright.”

It had taken Rick getting a call from his mom to swing by for dinner to finally get him to leave Daryl’s house. Not that Daryl wanted to be rid of him, with Merle in prison for the next six months Rick was the only other friend he had. He did want to return your backpack though and he figured it was worth stopping at the diner to see if you were there. You were always telling him how you worked all the time and while he wasn’t sure if you really did or if you were exaggerating he thought it was worth a shot, plus he assumed you would need it for school. Axel, Tiny, Dale, and even T-Dog weren’t strangers to the diner but you had never seen Daryl come in before so you were surprised when you saw him walk through the door.  

“Hey!” When you saw the backpack in his hands you smiled, “I’m so sorry.”

“Ya say that but yer smiling." He replied, setting it on one of the stools and sitting down beside it.  

“I’m honestly sorry.” You insisted, though it wasn’t truthful in the slightest. All you could really feel was happy that he had gone out of his way to bring the bag back to you. “Can I get you anything? On the house.”

It was pretty dead at 9pm on a Monday night. Most people weren’t out so late in King County. Daryl took the menu off the counter and opened it, looking through the options. “I’ll have some coffee.”

“Okay,” you poured him a cup and went to give another patron their meal. When you came back Daryl was still looking through the menu. “Are you still free on Thursday?”

“Why?” He asked, “what’s Thursday?”

“Thanksgiving.”

“I got work in the morning.” He replied, “Probably won’t work on the car honestly.”

“No, I wasn’t asking for that. I was wondering if you wanted to come around for dinner. Patricia has a bunch of people at the diner for a big Thanksgiving dinner. Like the Greene’s and Dale usually comes.”  

“Yah, I don’t think so.” The last thing Daryl needed was to show up somewhere he knew he wouldn’t be welcome. He knew the invitation was innocent, you were just trying to be nice, but he didn’t need to embarrass himself by hanging around more than he was welcome.

“Okay, well, if you change your mind I’m making apple pie.”

-

Unsurprisingly, Daryl did not change his mind. He spent his thanksgiving the way he did every year, drinking beer and watching the game on TV because it was all that was on. Will bailed on anything Thanksgiving related almost as soon as he woke up, leaving for a bar over in Woodbury. Daryl had grilled a steak but otherwise he had skipped out on dinner.  

He was almost asleep on the old laz-e-boy when a knock on the side door startled him awake. Rick never stopped by on Thanksgiving and there was only one other person he could think of that would come by his house.  

“Ya know when someone declines an offer to see ya that don’t mean ya need to come by.” He said, leaning in the door and blocking you from coming inside. You looked kind of adorable, a corduroy brown pinafore dress and cream turtleneck.  

“I know but I come bearing apple pie.” You bartered, holding up the wrapped up pie dish.  

“A’ight, come on.” Daryl moved aside to let you in.

“That was easier than I thought.”  

“I know ya well enough ta know ya ain’t just gonna leave if I ask.”

“You are correct.” You smiled. You eyed the beer cans sitting on the coffee table, “having a party?”

“Something like that.” He took the pie dish from you and set it on the coffee table before heading into the kitchen in search of clean utensils. You sat down the couch, looking around the Dixon’s home. The TV was sitting on an entertainment system that looked seconds from falling apart, the carpet was stained with cigarette ash and other substances.  

“This is...”

“Its a piece a shit.” Daryl replied, walking into the living room and sitting down beside you. “How was yer Thanksgiving?”

“It was alright...Maggie’s not talking to her dad so that was kinda awkward. I sat at the kids table with Beth and Sean.” You said, “better than sitting with the adults. Anyway, I told you I was making pie and I didn’t want you to miss out because, honest to god, I make the best apple pie in Georgia.”

Daryl nodded, more interested in the pie than in who you sat with at dinner. The last time he had apple pie he was probably seven and his mom had bought it premade from the grocery store because he had begged for it. “Ain’t got anything to weigh it against.” He finally said, scooping up some with his fork and taking a bite.  

You held your fork in your hand, waiting for a reaction. Daryl had terrible eating habits. He ate too fast and didn’t pay attention to whether the food was going completely in his mouth all the time. Growing up in a house with Merle and Will hadn’t exactly instilled strong table manners in him. Mostly they ate their meals at the TV, on fold out tables or the coffee table or he ate in the camper away from his dad. The last time they used a kitchen table it had been in their old house before his mom died.  

“Good?” You chanced while he ate.  

He hummed around a mouthful. You took a bite and smiled. Last year you had almost messed it up with the wrong apples but this year it was perfect.  

“Yer good at this.”

“Baking?”

“Yeah. Can’t cook anything if it ain’t on a grill.”

“You might be able to make an apple pie on a grill...I’ve never tried.” You teased and he smiled just enough that you caught it.

“Where do your parents think you are?” He asked, getting up and grabbing a beer from the kitchen fridge.

“Tara’s. Can I have one?”

“No.”

“Oh come on. I’m almost 18.”  

“I ain’t giving ya alcohol. Last thing I need is some girl going home drunk from here.” He replied.  

“I won’t be drunk! I can drink like, a whole case of Zima before I get drunk.”  

“That shit’s disgusting.”

“Oh I’m sorry, your Pabst is so great.” You sassed. Daryl rolled his eyes and held the can out to you, the one he’d just been drinking from. You took it, downing as much of a gulp as you could stand and imagining that you could maybe taste him on it. But the taste of the cheap beer won out and you nearly gagged as it went down, “that’s disgusting.”

“Gets ya drunk.”

“Are you?”

“Right now, no.” Though he wasn’t totally sober. If he was he would have never let you in his house. “Most a those are my dad’s. Had ‘em ‘fore he left for the bar.” He said, dropping onto the couch beside you.  

“I think this is the most we’ve ever had a conversation.” You pointed out.  

Daryl nodded and grinned, “maybe I am drunk.”

-

The next morning, as Daryl stepped out of the 7-11 with a pack of cigarettes and a coffee, he caught sight of you standing at the driver’s side of his truck and fixing your hair in the sideview mirror. You had stayed longer than you intended the night before; long enough that you had to call Glenn to pick you up because Daryl refused to drive you home after drinking.  

“Ya gonna pump my gas for me.” He asked and you spun around, smiling.

“I can. But it’ll cost you.”

“I’ll tell ya what,” Daryl picked up the gas nozzle and placed it in the truck, trapping you between him and the hose, “I’ll give ya the pie plate back.”

“Deal.” You turned slightly and reached for the nozzle, putting your hand over his, “but I’m only doing this because my mom already asked about the pie plate. Now move it, this is my job.”

You caught the slightest smile as he pulled his hand away and held them both up in mock surrender. He leaned against the driver’s door and took a sip of his coffee while he watched the numbers on the screen. “Ya working today?”

“Yeah, Lori wouldn’t clock me in early cause she’s on some power trip. Patricia left her in charge and she said I was trying to steal hours from Amy, she’s new, but I’m not. I don’t care about Amy or her hours.” You replied.

“Yes or no woulda worked.” He teased.

“I’m gonna think of the most long winded ways to answer your questions from now on. Just to annoy the hell outta ya.”  

“Ya already do.”  

“I do not! You love hanging out with me.”

He hummed and reached around you to grab the nozzle, clicking off the handle so the gas flow would stop but keeping you trapped. “There ya go. Pie plate is yours.”

“Thanks.”

He was slow to step away, almost reluctant, “I’ll see ya ‘round.”

“Okay.”

-

Taglist: @gigilame @sabertooth-potato @enrapturedbythemoon @oncemorewithfeelingg @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare  @mainokutan @qrangr  @twdeadfanfic @hopesxxhigh @coffeebooksandfandom @jodiereedus22 @tehfabbooty @thecaptainsgingersnap @of-storms-and-sadness @twdeadfanfic @alwaysadreamingoptimist @bucky-barnes-babies @ly--canthrope @daryldixonandfrogs @jaycc7983 @easnuppa @imaginecrushes @tonystarkismyboy @watchmeaspire @harpersmariano @cathwritestragediesnotsins

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter twenty seven: skin and valentines

“the flies come roaring out, and will surround the entire world, and blacken out the sky and every last one of you, like a plague of locusts, like an exit, like an end.” -”burning bright (a field on fire)”, nine inch nails

i can finally say this now: BIG OL’ SMUT WARNING!

Testament were about to head out on tour at the very end of the month when Sam had the idea to make a drawing for them as a good luck charm of sorts. She also finally decided to head out with them while on tour given she was already in the thick of it all with traveling back and forth between her parents' houses. The other alternative was staying back home there in California and doing nothing to save herself.

She had that business card of which Charlie had given her before and she knew the only way in which she could do something with it was if she went with them. They did have a few stops over in New York after all.

In the meantime it had been a couple of weeks since he had told her that Anthrax were headed into the studio and there was no word if Joey would join them as of yet. Even though she was well nestled within their circle, it almost felt as though she had been put at a distance. The West Coast stood out as a completely whole separate world from back East. If nothing else, she had to bring both worlds together in some way or fashion.

She worked on that drawing all month long until they left for upstate New York and she finally decided to join along with them. As far as everyone knew, she wasn't their groupie, but rather their resident artist. She came up with the story that she would follow them wherever they went and made art along the way for them.

But that drawing consisted of the finest pen work she had made since Cliff was alive.

The snakes on her head. The look on her face.

It was sort of a self portrait: she based the expression on her face off of the way in which she looked in the mirror's reflection in the mornings. The way her face was shaped. The way in which the serpents riddled and writhed around the crown of her head. She had to draw it and she had to draw it up not just for herself but for those five men as well.

It was also around this time she began to see the mysterious man in her dreams once again.

He often appeared to her in fragments those times around: rather than full fledged dreams, but she knew it was him. The way in which his hair waved about and the way he always gazed back at her from the void. The way he seemed to burn into her memory like the ripe bright cherry at the end of a cigarette.

And she still had no idea if he was supposed to represent Alex or someone else. All she knew was Marla was the only other person who saw him in her dreams when the going got rough.

She finished up the last of the serpents on Medusa's head the night before she flew out to upstate New York with Testament. The more she thought about it, the more appropriate it felt to her to have drawn up Medusa before she sat next to Alex again on the plane. Greg and Eric were on the other side of the aisle from them; meanwhile Chuck and Tiffany took to the seats right behind them, and Louie was right next to an old man on the other side. Sam and Alex were surrounded: no way they could act upon each other there on the flight, especially since he kept his nose in the book he was reading all the while.

“You brought some of your drawings with you, right?” he asked her at one point, to which he lowered his book from his line of sight. For a brief moment, she looked up at the little tuft of gray atop his head and she swore it grew within only a couple of weeks time, from a slight pearl to a full on tuft the size of a baby carrot.

“There was no way I wasn't going to bring them with me,” she told him in a low voice: Louie's soft snoring right behind them caught her attention. She peered across the aisle to find Greg had fallen asleep as well while Eric paid attention to a few letters he had received just prior to the tour's onset.

She opened her journal right there for Alex and showed him that drawing of Medusa, to which he gasped at the very sight of it. Those thin lines of black ink that made up the scales on the snakes. The richness of the green skin. The way in which her eyes glared at the both of them from the nothing.

“Wow,” he breathed.

“I'm extra proud of this one, yeah,” she confessed to him.

“As you should be—that's stunning.”

“You know what else I wanna do?” she asked him.

“What's that?”

“Well, seeing as we're on a plane and there really isn't anyone else paying much attention to us—”

He raised his eyebrows at that.

“You're not suggesting...” he muttered, and he hesitated right in his tracks.

Sam turned to a fresh page right at the middle of the journal and without sparing a scratch of graphite or a drop of ink, she drew up two bodies right there on the page before her. Alex tucked his bookmark in between the pages and set it down on the tray before him so he could watch her.

The smooth angles of a young man in his prime. The smooth gentle full curves of a young woman.

He raised his eyebrows when she added the black hair on his head and left a spot black for the tuft of gray over his brow. He showed her a smirk when she added her features on the woman.

“Oh my,” he whispered. “You really are Georgia O'Keeffe. Go sexy some more.”

She brought a finger to her lips even though it was obvious no one paid any attention right then.

He showed her a sweet, thoughtful smile when she signed her initials at the bottom of the page.

“Mmm, sexy erotic art,” he noted. “No one can ever know about it, though.”

She shook her head at that and she looked over to see Eric looking in their direction.

“What about me?” he said to them in a low voice, and Alex brought a hand to his mouth to keep his laughter from growing too loud.

Then Sam remembered that Eric had offered her a date. She had hope that he would do that for her at any given moment during that tour, but as long as they didn't do it there in upstate New York, she would be fine with it.

Within time, they landed there in Poughkeepsie and Sam recognized that shoulder length blonde hair under the lights of the airport.

“Bel!” she called her.

“Hey, Sam!” Belinda greeted her with a tight embrace: she had missed the way in which she smelled.

“Hey, Belinda!” Louie followed up from right behind them. Chuck rounded out the group hug from the left there.

“I've got to call my dad and tell him that we made over here in one piece,” Sam told them; and Belinda turned to Eric for a hug himself.

“Good plan, li'l Sammich,” Chuck said.

“Hey, when's Father's Day this year?” she asked him.

“Father's Day is the—eighteenth, I think? We're going down South then so we might not have a phone nearby.”

“I could just skip on it,” she suggested with a shrug of her shoulders.

“You forget and you become the girl who forgot Father's Day,” he told her. He lifted his gaze to right behind her and she turned around for a look back at him there. Those long black curls down around his shoulders and the little pile upon his head so it actually resembled to a crown of sorts.

“Joey!” Sam declared, and her heart hammered inside of her chest.

“Sam! I thought that was your caboose right there—” He extended his arms towards her; as she came closer to him, she noticed tears in his eyes. She held him so close and his lips grazed against the side of her neck, as soft as they had ever been before. The softest they had ever been before towards her.

It felt so long since she had touched him and felt his body pressed up against her own. He leaned into her face and pressed his lips to her own. His tongue slithered right into her mouth and she wondered where they were headed from that point onward.

She knew Alex stood there right behind them all the while but she didn't care. She had her arms around Joey's slender body and her lips locked onto his.

His brown eyes sparkled with life as he led her away from there.

“Where are they going?” she heard Belinda ask Alex right behind them. But she couldn't hear what he said to her given Joey led her all the way back to the little shops at the front of the airport.

“Joey, where are we going?” she asked him at one final point.

He led her into a gift shop which, had she not known any better, she swore was a lingerie shop. There was no one else in there with them: Joey guided her to the edge of the room, right behind a rack of snow globes. They were nestled back there on the freshly vacuumed carpet. No one else but them.

He put her lips to hers and he ducked down behind the snow globes. She followed suit to the floor with him.

“Fuck it,” he breathed into her ear. “Fuck it—just fuck me. Right here, right now. Right in front of everyone.”

She reached down and caressed the crotch of his jeans with three fingers. Joey whimpered right into her ear. She made out and had phony sex with two other men before then but she needed to do it for real right there with Joey himself. He fell to his knees before her and then he lay down on the soft clean carpet. His black curls sprawled out from underneath his head in those rich lush waves.

“Sit on me,” he begged her.

Two men who begged it from her and specifically from her of all people.

“Sit on my face,” he begged her, “sit on my face and let's get it on hot.”

She was about to lose her virginity with Joey. That rite of passage that everyone talked about and made such a huge deal about this whole entire time.

She set her courier bag down on the floor right there. She stripped off her jeans and took a seat right over the prominent tip of his nose.

The edge of his tongue slithered around on her lips as she spread her legs a bit for him. It was difficult given they were in the midst of a gift shop but they were tucked back in a small corner of it all. She could only hope that no one else would see or hear them as Joey licked harder for her.

She gasped as the feeling only persisted with him. She lifted up and took a seat on his hips. No one else around them, even there in broad daylight.

Joey gagged on something. He coughed a few times and covered his mouth with the full palm of his hand.

“Shhh,” she hissed to him, and with her finger up to her lips.

“Hello?” someone on the other side of the room called out.

“Damn it,” he groaned. “The next time we get a moment alone, I hope it's at the hockey rink.”

“Hello, hello?” the clerk called out again.

Sam lifted up and fixed her jeans with a bit of haste. Joey did the same before he sat up again right as she came back towards them.

“I've just got a hair on my tongue,” he explained to the woman, and Sam shook her head at that as she picked up her courier bag from the carpet. She paid no attention to what he was doing right then.

“We're alright, I promise,” Sam assured her as she held onto Joey's arm and led him back out of there, right as they met up with Belinda and Testament once again.

“What the hell was going on in there?” Eric demanded, and Chuck burst laughing when he saw Joey.

Sam finally turned around for a better look at him and the blush over his face and his tongue hanging out from his mouth like a dog.

“We're a thirsty boy,” she joked to them in a low voice, and Greg yelped out at that. Joey shook his head and blushed.

The seven of them made their way over to the hotel about a block from the theater, and all the while, he put his hand on her knee and even inside of her thigh. Testament's van remained right before them the whole way there and yet she wished to be in there with them, not because she wanted to get away from Joey but because she wanted to hang out with them some more.

They pulled up to a stoplight and he leaned in closer to her for a kiss on her neck. She returned the favor with a kiss on his lips and her hands on either side of his face.

He blinked several times once he pulled back from her and lunged ahead on the vast main road.

They climbed out of the car together—how Sam missed the humid lush feeling of upstate! But no sooner had she rounded the back end of the car when she felt his hand fondle up the seat of her pants.

“God, you're horny right now,” she groaned.

“I haven't seen my girl in so long,” he begged to her as he handed her her courier bag, her purse, as well as her travel bag. “I can't touch my girl? Like she has to cock block me?”

“Not in front of the boys,” she insisted; indeed, Testament had gotten out of their van; Belinda joined in from the car behind them as well.

“Besides,” he told her in a low voice, “I've gotta slip into sump'n a li'l more... dare I say, comfortable.” He flashed her a wink when he said that. “Also, Charlie should be up here like any time this evening. He wants you to meet someone.”

Sam raised her eyebrows at that. Now she knew the meaning behind the card Charlie had given her in the rehearsal space that previous time. Joey then leaned back into her face for a hearty kiss on the lips before he climbed back into his car again. Her heart swelled inside of her chest as he gave her a glimpse back and showed her a wink.

Given it was the middle of the last day before the brand new tour, she knew that Joey would be back for the show that following night, and perhaps her as well. She watched him go off when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Greg right behind her with a little smirk on his face.

She turned around for a better look at the five of them plus Belinda.

“I think this hotel here has some billiards, Eric,” she said aloud as she hoisted her purse over her shoulder. The sound of billiards made Alex raise his eyebrows at Sam. She shook her head at that and he snickered.

Since it was the beginning of June there in upstate New York, it wasn't until seven o'clock when the sun began to hang low over the horizon, and when Sam finally called up Ruben to tell him that they had made it there to the East Coast.

“You kids have fun this summer,” he told her.

“Oh, we will,” she vowed as she lifted up her shirt and proceeded to change into something more comfortable herself.

Greg and Alex sat on either side of her at dinner time there in the wide open front lobby: every so often a gust of cool wind blew her black hair back and the bottom of her little low cut black blouse up so both of them could have a view of her belly. It also didn't help matters that she wore little black denim shorts all the while.

Eric and Belinda were still billiards while Louie had gone out there in town and Chuck and Tiffany sat on the far side of the open floor together, right underneath a television suspended on the wall.

Every so often, Greg gave his long dark hair a little toss back with a flick of his head so Sam could see the side of his neck. She never noticed the bit of five o'clock shadow there on his chin and all around his jaw line before. On the other hand, the thought of Joey with a bit of fuzz on his face tickled her a bit.

“Greg, you oughta put your hair up,” Alex suggested.

“Yeah, you'll look all stylish like a model,” Sam joked, which in turn made the both of them laugh out loud.

“I'm getting kinda hot, anyways,” Greg confessed.

“Hot as in thermally?” she asked him as he stood to his feet.

“Hot as in thermally, yeah,” he replied with a straight face, but it only made Alex chuckle. Greg flashed her a wink as he stepped away from their table and headed back inside of the hotel. Alex took one more bite of his chicken alfredo, and then he leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his dark hair followed by the tuft of gray.

“Stick a fork in me, I'm done,” he said, to which Sam picked up her fork and gently poked his belly with the tines. He flinched back which only made her giggle at him. She tried to gently poke him again and he flinched back to the edge of the chair some more. She pictured him being so cute with a bit of weight on his body: he was already on his way with the round shape of his face and those apple shaped cheekbones.

He then stopped. His eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. The warm soft color in his face drained away to that of old drywall. He looked as though he was about to vomit up his dinner right there.

“What?” she asked him, and he pointed across the floor. She turned her head and she looked on at the television screen.

“Tiananmen Square in Beijing,” he said, “a bunch of protests over there from people who want democracy. It's been going on for more than a full month now. They actually declared martial law over there just a couple weeks ago. Look at that guy!”

Her mouth stood agape as they watched a sole man stand in the middle of the street there in Beijing, right before a tank. When the tank moved out of the way of him, he moved to the side. They then both watched him climb up the side of the tank to the top hatch, and they gaped at each other. Alex returned to it and then he brought his hands to his mouth once more.

“Holy shit,” he blurted out; one of the few times Sam had ever heard Alex swear before her.

Thousands of Chinese took to the streets right there before their eyes against a backdrop of smoke and bullets. The crawlers on the top and bottom of the screen all read in Mandarin and given they were across the room, they couldn't hear it, but the horrified look on Alex's face told her everything she needed to know about it.

He shook his head and stood to his feet.

“What's the matter?” she asked him as she followed him outside to the impending darkness. “Alex?”

He bowed his head and hurried away from there: Sam followed right behind him, and then he finally stopped and turned towards her with a look of absolute pain on his face.

“I can't—I can't—that's just—no.”

Even in the darkness, she could see the tears in his eyes. She put her arms around him and held him so close to her.

“I want to help those poor people,” he wept. “They don't need that horse shit! They need to be free!”

“It's okay, Alex,” she told him in a hushed voice. “You do what you can. You do good, too. If it's any comfort at all, that worries me, too.”

He lifted his gaze to her and looked on at her like a lost puppy.

“That is a comfort to me,” he promised her. She pressed her hands to either side of his face and she put her lips to his. “As is that,” he added.

“Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

“We're alone again,” she said, and he glanced about the sidewalk.

“Yeah, we are. How appropriate.”

“You wanna hang out?” she offered him.

“Let's,” he replied with a little flutter of his eyelashes.

“You're knockin' me out with those lashes, boy,” she teased him.

“I should knock your ass out right now just for that,” he retorted to her.

“Knock my ass out right now with fuck all below the belt?”

He laughed at that, that big hearty laugh right from deep within his body. He lingered closer to her again.

“You really do what you can, Alex,” she repeated. “I can see you being such a force to be reckoned with in the music world with your voice.”

He showed her a sweet little smile and he lowered his eyelids a little bit. He showed her his tongue as well, as he ran the tip over those soft lips.

He then turned his head and he gestured to the other side of the lot, there of which stood a short alleyway.

“There's a spot right over there,” he told her in a low voice, and they ran across the parking lot, past Testament's van and past Anthrax's bus, both of which had been posted up at the curb. He rounded the corner first; once she joined him there he opened the buttons on his shirt a bit more so as to show off more of his chest to her. She thought back to when they took her to the field they scattered Cliff's ashes, except this time they were about to do it for real. The sole light came from a floodlight at the rim of the parking lot, but the distant glow from it was enough to soften his skin and make him appear fuller and rounder than before; full and round like the moon.

He grimaced at something.

“What's wrong?” she asked him.

“I've got an itch,” he complained.

“Huh?”

“I've got an itch!” A soft rustling sound emerged from the darkness between them.

“Where? I'll scratch it for you.”

“It's—It's—It's?” He chuckled at that. “It's—on my—I dunno if you know about any of this because you're a woman and whatnot—there's like this little tent that forms over the crotch of a guy's jeans when he sits for too long. The itch is literally right on my crotch.”

“Again, I'll scratch it for you,” she said.

“You just wanna touch my crotch,” he chided.

“Of course I wanna touch your crotch because it's nice and warm and very soft.”

“Not as soft as my ass, I would assume,” he teased her.

“Your ass is like a little pillow, Alex,” she retorted. “You know what else is like a little pillow is your tummy.”

“Eating so many ginger snaps,” he teased her as he patted his stomach. “Too many in fact.”

“How's that little vampire bite I gave you holding up, by the way?”

He lifted up his shirt and showed her that red mark the size of a dime right next to his belly button. His milky skin seemed to glow under the soft light behind him, and it glowed bright enough for her to see the mark for herself.

“Like a little branding of sorts,” he joked, and she giggled at that. To think it wasn't that long ago she and him didn't like each other that much. She put her arms up on his shoulders and he leaned back against the wall. She moved her face up to his and he parted his lips for her. The dim light softened his face, and those deep eyes, and that plume of gray over the right side of his brow: she still owed an encounter with Greg at some point during that tour, but for the time being she needed to be with Alex. She ran her fingers through his inky black hair and he tilted his head back a bit to show her his neck.

“C'mere, baby,” she whispered to him. “Come to mama, baby.”

“I'll come right here and right now,” he whispered back to her. “Just undo my pants for me 'cause they're a bit tight.”

She undid the button with both hands and then she reached down the front there. He was firming up but he needed a little bit of help.

Joey was actually down on the floor for her.

Alex meanwhile had his back to the wall for her.

“Yeah, just like that,” he breathed as her fingers caressed over his skin. “Yeah—Yeah—it's like squeezing a tube.” He gasped when she touched him a little bit too hard, but it brought a devilish smirk to her face.

“Harder?” she teased him.

“Harder—come on, you can do better than that. I know you can.”

“I want you on your back,” she commanded him; at the same time that was all she could think of with him. Something about his round face and those deep eyes whereby she wanted to see him down on the ground, splayed wide open all for her. “I want you on your back and I want you to beg for mercy.”

“Can't really lie down, though,” he whimpered as she touched him with a bit more pressure.

“I want to give it to you, though,” she said.

“Give it good and hard?”

“Extra hard. I know you like a little pain, baby.”

“I'm a bad boy and I need a good bit of punishing.”

“I'll punish you, alright,” she retorted back to him. It was as if they were ricocheting off of each other.

Alex's lanky fingers slithered down to the waist of her shorts and he yanked them off a bit. She undid the button on her shorts and she let them slide down her legs. Even in the darkness she could feel him right there right before her.

“I wanna know how you taste,” he whispered.

“Where?”

“You know. The place where the sugar bleeds out.”

“Oh, there. It might be hard to do that standing up, though.”

“I don't think so,” he whispered, and he dropped down from her face and down to her waist. She never went this far with Cliff before and thus to feel this right before her was almost alien to her. She could feel him taking off her underwear. She spread her legs a bit to help him out with it.

The feel of his tongue there sent a shiver up her spine.

“I think it's—it's—” he breathed. “This is like ten ginger snaps.”

He tickled her with his tongue. She could feel him going up inside of her with nothing more than that tongue. He slithered about like a hearty snake.

He then gasped for air and she shuddered from the feeling at the base of her spine.

“Whoa,” he groaned out.

“Yeah, you were digging deep there,” she sputtered: she was warm as a smoldering fire below the belt. Her nipples hardened on the inside of her bra.

“I want you to make me a mess,” he begged her. “I want you to do it, Samantha!”

He opened the rest of the buttons on his shirt for her and she put her arms around him. She thought back to when he was a sixteen year old boy and she had that fleeting thought about kissing him. She could do it for real at that point.

“Yeah, you like that, don't ya, big boy?” she breathed into his lips. She held back into an upright position and she gazed straight into those deep eyes right before her face.

It was like shedding skin with him. Even though she never saw anyone like that before, she did feel it within her with Alex right underneath her. She kept her knees on either side of his hips. It was just like Chuck, except she was really there for real that time around.

His back to the wall and her hands on his shoulders.

They stared right into each other's eyes as she ground down on him.

“You can go faster, you know,” he said without batting a lash.

So she did. He pressed his hands down on the wall behind him.

She held onto his shoulders a bit harder so she could go faster and harder on him.

A long time coming.

“Mmm—yeah, that's it right there,” Alex stammered. “Right there!” He closed his eyes and relished in the feeling between his thighs.

“Like that?” She thrust a little extra hard on him and he gasped again.

“Yes!”

“Like that!”

“Yes!”

“Like that!”

“YES!”

“LIKE THAT!”

“YES! EVERYTHING WITH A BITTA HUTZPAH RIGHT ON MY FAT ASS YES!”

She lifted off of him right as he came for her: as if she knew he was about to come right there. Out of breath, Alex's knees buckled and he slid down the wall a bit. Sam could feel something trickling down the inside of her legs.

“You're bleeding, my mistress,” he said in a broken voice. His bare chest heaved and he flashed her a shaky thumbs up. “I—I—that was everything I could've asked for...” He let out a whistle while she pulled up her panties and her shorts. She had a couple of pads in her purse back in the room, which meant she had to run back there with her legs together.

“Fuck me,” he breathed out.

“Okay!” Sam declared, and he burst out laughing at that, and then he followed it up with a soft moan from his throat. She stooped down for a better look into his face.

“D'you like that, baby?” she whispered. His knees quivered a bit as he stood back up to his feet; she caught him before he lost his balance.

“That was everything I ever imagined,” he said, still out of breath.

“Mmm—baby.” She put her arms around his waist.

“No one can ever know about us,” he said in a low voice, and she looked right into his round face and those eyes. He had never been so soft before. She had him right in the palm of her hand like a handful of jelly. She gave him another kiss right on the lips, albeit one that was quite a bit longer that time around. She slid her hand down his stomach, still very soft despite having slimmed down with time. Silky soft and very sweet, just how she liked him.

“Not a single soul, baby,” she breathed into his parted lips.

She bowed her a bit which in turn accentuated the sharpness of her brow to him, and through the dim light he showed her an exhausted little smile. And yet his eyes burned into her like the cherries on the ends of cigarettes.

She kept her legs pressed together as she headed back to her room for a shower and a fresh change into her clothes. Even though it was still early, she was ready for bed by the time Belinda returned to the room a bit tipsy; she dared not explain to her the blood on her underwear or why there was a few little specks on the bathtub there, and she could only say that it was nothing more than paint.

She went to bed early that night and woke up early the next morning, mainly from the sore feeling between her legs but also from the fact that she had gone to bed early that evening. She padded into the bathroom, and as she ran her hair brush through her dark hair, she looked on at the full figured woman in the mirror in front of her.

“Those two men are just something else,” she muttered as she shook her head. Even after she vowed to Alex that she would keep the whole thing a secret betweent the two of them, she knew that her clothes still smelled like both him and Joey. She picked up that low cut black blouse she wore on that first day there in upstate New York

“Bastards—both of them,” she said as she shook her head.

The spot between her legs was going to be sore from where she and Joey did it together, which in turn felt even more sore courtesy of Alex. But she dared not tell anyone about either encounter as she headed downstairs to fetch two cups of coffee and two plates of breakfast for both her and Belinda.

Alex was already up himself: he stood there before the buffet table with an empty plate in hand. When no one was looking, she reached down and slapped him right on the seat of his pants, to which he lurched forward. He turned around with a bewildered look on his face and then he flashed her a little grin.

“Yeah, you better take it easy on them ginger snaps, Alejandro,” she teased him, “if not a belly, you're starting to get a bit of junk in the trunk.”

“I've got junk in my trunk? What about junk on my junk?”

“Shhhh!”

She peered over her shoulder to ensure no one wasn't eavesdropping on them.

“I'll put a bit of junk on your junk soon enough,” she vowed to him in a husky voice, and he giggled at that.

“Sam!” Charlie's voice sailed from across the room.

“More on that later, baby,” she promised Alex in a soft whisper right into his ear. She bowed over to the other side of the room where Charlie sat across from a strange woman.

“Sam, this is Scarlett Valentine,” he introduced her, “—the artsy woman I was telling you about whom I introduced Marla to and almost singlehandedly got her foot in the door in the art scene.”

“Not quite,” Scarlett assured him in a big Queens accent much like Scott, “Marla still has to find a place to set up her works first. I also wouldn't say singlehandedly, either, as I had a bit of help, too.”

“Oh, so you're Scarlett!” Sam declared.

“That I am.” She showed her a friendly warm smile and a little glimmer in her eyes. She had a short straight bob of platinum blonde hair which fit her heart shaped face so she resembled to a queen of hearts, and she wore a smart dark red bathrobe over her pajamas.

“I'd have to go back up to my room to fetch you my journal, though,” Sam told her with a shrug.

“That's okay,” Scarlett assured her. “Charlie was just about to get the both of us a cup of coffee each.” Charlie himself shrugged and blushed from the attention on him.

Even with her legs sore, Sam still bowed back up to her room for her journal. Each step made her heart pound faster and faster in her chest. It was really happening: someone who had a lead in the New York art scene could perhaps help her out.

Soon, she returned to the lobby.

It almost felt as though she was about to display herself naked in front of an audience as she opened the journal to that drawing of Medusa. Charlie gaped at the sight of it where Scarlett examined those fine lines and those bright colors as if she inspected buried treasure.

“What do you think?” Sam asked her.

“This is brilliant,” she breathed, “utterly beautiful—just takes my breath away.” She sat upright so she had a bit of distance between herself and the page. “Very unique style, too, like it stands out from a mile away.”

She turned to Sam with a twinkle in her eye.

“You are going to be the next big thing in the art scene, Miss Shelley,” she said, and the excited smile crossed her face all the while. “In New York and maybe elsewhere as well.

“You sure about that?” Sam asked her, to which Scarlett nodded; she never imagined anyone using those words on her before, let alone someone whom she had just met through Charlie.

“What did Frankie and I tell you when we first met?” he recalled as he took a sip of coffee.

[wkemeup]

I’m With You (3/3)

series summary: When two strangers meet on a layover in the Charlotte Airport, they find that a lifetime can sit in the span of three days and it doesn’t take very long at all to fall in love. pairing: bucky x reader warnings: super soft!bucky, allusions to PTSD/suicidal thoughts, some familiar faces  🌸series masterlist // series playlist 🌸

T H E   G R A D U A T I O N

You lightly tapped on the edge of Bucky’s hotel room door with the toe of your shoe. Carrying two cups of steaming coffee in your hands and your bag tucked under your arm, your hands were completely full. He had texted you at nearly six-thirty in the morning and the vibration of your phone startled you into a panic in mirror with whatever was running through his mind as he all but begged you to meet at the hotel this morning instead of the venue, nearly two hours earlier than planned.

You could faintly hear him stumbling around from the other side of the door, a muffled thud quickly followed by a pained groan as he approached. A smile pushed at your cheeks as he started mumbling to himself, the knob of the door shaking as he tried to open it before remembering the deadbolt was still locked.

Bucky grunted and you chocked back a laugh, though it was quickly wiped from your face as the door swung open to reveal him standing in the frame; shirtless, hair disheveled and damp, bare chest panting and covered in sweat.

“Hey,” he muttered, stepping aside as you looked him down with wide eyes. “Thank God you’re here. I need your help.”

He didn’t seem bothered by his lack of clothing and you swallowed back the racing thumping in your chest, trying to relax your reaction before he could notice how flustered you were. Though, he wasn’t in the mindset to notice much of anything as he rushed around the room, throwing shirts out of the closet and onto the bed, which was already covered in stray clothes. Towels littered the floor from the shower he must have taken earlier and the bedsheets were thrown off the bed and onto the carpet.

Even despite the chaos, it was impossible not to notice the tight ripple of muscles he hid under his shirts. Perfectly sculped as if by God Himself only emphasized by the low hang of the caramel colored slacks around his waist, deep enough to see the V of his pelvis. You shuddered, looking away but your eyes caught onto his left arm.

You already knew about the scars, but seeing them in full almost made your heart give out. Faintly discolored mutilation in the tissue ran up the entirety of his arm, almost as if he’d dipped it in paint, ending at the bridge of his shoulder. It didn’t appear to be painful anymore, but he still kept it hidden under long sleeves. You wondered if he realized it was on display in front of you now.

“Bucky,” you called gently, setting the coffees down on the counter as he started to rake his hands through his hair, clearly panicking.

“I’m freaking out,” he blurted, pacing rapidly, “I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“Okay,” you said calmly, nodding, “why don’t we--”

“Should I wear red?” Bucky asked, completely ignoring you or unable to even hear your attempt to calm him and as he gripped so tightly at his hair, you wondered if he might just pull it out. He stared down at the clothes on the bed like it was a life or death decision. “Red and Black are her school colors. Is that stupid? Maybe it’s too much.”

“Well, maybe you should--”

“I should wear blue! Blue is relaxing, right? It evokes a sense of calm. I read that in an article this morning. Maybe I should wear blue so Bec doesn’t start throwing shit at me the second she sees me.”

“Bucky, hold on a moment--”

“Or- or maybe I should just go with white? It’s simple. Sharp and--”

“Bucky!”

He froze suddenly, the trail of his thoughts dying on the edge of his lips, though he didn’t look in your direction.

You walked forward, slowly, enough not to startle him, and carefully pulled his hands away from the grip on his hair. He didn’t flinch as you touched him and you took it as a good sign, tenderly rubbing your thumb in circles over his wrist until he took notice of you. He softened then, eyes falling to you and letting out a long, steady breath. The tension faded from his muscles the longer he kept your gaze.

“Shit,” he sighed, dropping his stare to the floor and pulling away from you. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t-- I didn’t mean to drag you into my crazy and--”

“You let me drag you into mine, didn’t you?” you challenged, smiling sweetly at him.

He shook his head, unconvinced. “You weren’t completely losing it, Y/n. I can’t even—I can’t even pick out a damn shirt without overanalyzing it! What the hell is wrong with me? I can't face my own family without having a full mental breakdown!”

“I had a panic attack in the middle of my ex’s vows and spent ten minutes crying on your jacket,” you reminded him, gently running your hands up his arms and cupped at his face to draw his attention back to you. “Nothing is wrong with you, Bucky. You just need a little help, okay?”

He nodded slowly, grounding himself through your hands on his cheeks. He let out a deep breath as you pulled away, stepping back just enough to shuffle through the clothes on the bed. After some consideration, you pulled out a forest green button up with subtle white patterns along the fabric. It was light enough that he’d be able to wear it under Georgia heat, even with the long sleeves.

He must have noticed you trailing your hands along the fabric, only touching the ones with sleeves down to his wrist and he smiled softly, wondering how you’d picked up on that so fast.

“Here,” you said, handing him the shirt, “try this.”

Bucky slowly took the shirt from your hands, his fingertips grazing over yours and you shuddered at the feeling. He smiled nervously as he shrugged the shirt on, buttoning it down the middle. He held his arms out to the side, waiting for your opinion.

“It’s almost there but,” you stepped forward, gathering a bit of the fabric at the center by his waist as tucked it into the front of his jeans, tugging a bit on the sides so it flowed nicely, “there you go. Now you’re all set.”

Bucky nodded, checking himself out in the mirror as he stretched his neck to the side. You handed him a pair of brown wing tips and he slid them on his feet without question.

“I’m not sure how I functioned before this weekend,” Bucky chuckled and it was a relief to hear the anxiety drained a little from his voice. He stood up, pressing out a tight smile as he gently gripped your biceps. “Thank you, Y/n.”

You bit on your lip, eyes darting away as he finally took in the sight of you; dressed in a knee length navy dress that held tight to your chest down to the cinch of your waist, and flowed down in loose, breezy fabric with light brown buttons carrying up the center line.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Bucky added, meeting your eye again with a sincerity that dared you to believe him.

You mumbled your thanks, reaching back to the counter to hand him the cup of coffee you bought for him on your way over, trying to avoid the embarrassment as it flooded your cheeks. Bucky didn’t seem to mind your escape and gladly took the coffee from your hand, sighing contently as he took a sip.

“How’d you know my order?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and he took in another gulp.

“That checkers game we played at the airport,” you shrugged, grabbing your own cup from the counter, “it was like the fourth or fifth question I asked.”

“I forgot about that,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Feels like it was a lifetime ago.”

You nodded in agreement, watching him over the brim of your coffee as you took a sip. It was almost as if months or years sat within the confines of a single weekend. From the moment you met him at your gate in the Charlotte airport to eating ice cream on the park bench until two in the morning, he captivated you and drew you in and took over your world unlike anyone else ever had.

He was remarkable and complex and full of a kindness and compassion you struggled to even give to yourself. The idea of losing him after the weekend was over, after the magic of this trip subsided and you were both thrown back to the real world, was too devastating to even think of. So, you helped Bucky clean up his room and let him take your hand as you both walked down the to lobby.

The valet attendant called for a cab and you waited with Bucky on the sidewalk, sipping on your coffee until it was empty and squeezing his hand when you felt him start to get lost in his thoughts again.

Once the cab rolled up, he held the door open for you and let you slide into the seat. Closing it behind you and jogging around to the other side. He sent you a wink as he slid in next to you. He told the driver the address of the ceremony and buckled his seatbelt. With the middle seat open between you, he felt too far away.

“Have you thought about what you’ll say to her?” you asked carefully, watching for his reaction.

He stiffening slightly, nodding as his hands curled into fists. You reached across the seat and placed your hand over his, closing around his palm and he smiled painfully in appreciation.

“Every time I try, I just freeze up,” he admitted, running his free hand down his thighs. “She’s hated me for so long, I don’t even know what to say. It’s been almost six years.”

You sighed as he looked out the window, his jaw visibly clenching as he avoided your eyes in shame. You couldn’t stand seeing him this way, blaming himself and withdrawing from the man who had so selflessly and with a compassion unlike anyone else, saved you from falling into your ex’s trap. He deserved to belief the same things he told you. That he mattered. That he had worth. He didn’t seem to believe it, not when it came to his sister.

Slowly, you unbuckled your seatbelt and scooted closer to him, settling in on the middle seat and holding onto his arm. He turned to you, surprised, though he started to relax again.

“It’s important you know that no matter what happens, she’ll make her own choices and you can’t control how she reacts,” you said gently. He nodded, though it was painful. You squeezed his hand. “You know what you want to say, Buck. I’m sure you’ve been thinking about it for years. I truly hope she comes around and you two can mend things, but I want you to know it’s not your fault if she doesn’t. You’re doing what you can and you’ll keep doing it until she’s ready. The rest is up to her, okay?”

It was silent for a moment as Bucky took in your words. You gave him the time he needed to think, sitting comfortably with the music playing softly from the front seat as you leaned on his shoulder, staring out the windshield to the busy Atlanta traffic.

“Okay,” Bucky said after a while, letting out a shaky breath. He pushed out a smile for you, though it struggled to meet his eyes, but you could tell he was trying.

Twenty minutes later as the cab pulled up to the auditorium, Bucky’s arm was draped around your shoulders, your hand resting on his thigh and rubbing soft circles to keep him grounded. He mentioned once that the physical contact was helpful for him, something his therapist down at the VA had suggested when he first got back. It was why he was so eager to grab your hand, though he promised it was your hand specifically he liked holding.

“Ready?” you asked as Bucky slipped cash through the window to the driver up front. He slumped back into his seat, but he did eventually nod.

“Not sure I’ll ever be as ready as I am right now,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Thank you, again for, uh, for coming with me.”

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek and he smiled back at you. Waiting a moment too long just staring at one another, the driver tapped on the window, pulling your attention away and gestured for you to get out of the car.

Bucky mumbled a quick apology as you started to laugh and followed him out of the car. Hand in hand, he led you up the grand stairs and into the building filled with families and friends and students dressed in bright red gowns and caps.

“My Ma said she’s got seats,” Bucky said, pushing through the crowd and keeping you as close as possible.

“She knows I’m coming, right?” you asked nervously, just now realizing that helping Bucky through this family event meant actually meeting his family.

“Um, not exactly,” Bucky mumbled, squeezing you buy a couple gathered on the walkway as he led you up the stairs. You didn’t even have time to object because he waved at a woman sitting at the edge of a row. With dark brunette hair sweeping at her shoulders and soft blue eyes that lit up the moment she caught sight of him, it was no wonder Bucky was her son.

“There’s my boy,” she cooed, standing up to hug him tightly around the shoulders. She pulled back, squeezing at his cheeks as he tried to swat her away. “Handsome as ever.” She glanced over Bucky’s shoulder to you as you held your hands clasped tightly together and chewing on the edge of your lip. “Who’s this? I didn’t know you were bringing a guest, James.”

James?

“Y-yeah, sorry about that ma. Last minute arrangements,” he stumbled out, scratched at his neck and eyes flickering over to you. “This is, um, this is my, my friend. Y/n.”

Bucky's mom smiled sweetly, eyeing you as you extended a hand to her.

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” you said as she pushed your hand aside and pulled you in for a hug. You glanced at Bucky over her shoulder and he grimaced in apology, but you didn’t mind much. She was kind, something you’d expect from the woman who raised such a man.

“Well I’m glad you came, Y/n,” she said, smiling wide before she sent a knowing look at Bucky. “It’s been quite a while since you’ve brought a ‘friend’ around, James.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide and his cheeks turned as red as the gowns of the students as they gathered down by the stage. You laughed, biting on your tongue when he glared helplessly in your direction, though your smile was still present.

“Jesus, ma,” he grumbled, grabbing your hand and guiding you past his mother to sit on the bench. Luckily there was enough room as his uncle had to skip for a work commitment.

He took a seat next to you, sitting between you and his mother, as he greeted the rest of his family with a short wave. He seemed uncomfortable, like he’d been avoiding his extended family for about as long as he had his sister. The only person he seemed calm around was his mom.

“You alright?” you asked quietly into his ear so only he could hear. He nodded, though he was clenching at his knees, wrinkling his slacks from the constant gripping on the fabric.

You wanted to reach for his hand but you weren’t sure what he wanted, seeing as his mother was right next to him and you imagined he didn’t want to lie to her the way he’d lied to Jack and Marci at the wedding. It was one thing pretending you were together to get through the wedding of your ex, but another thing entirely to lie to family about it.

It didn’t seem to register that you’d also held his hand in intimate moments when no one else was around, when there was no show to put on.

As the students lined into the seats and faculty took their place on the stage, you could feel Bucky tensing beside you. His eyes were downcast, staring at his shoes as his whole upper body rose and fell with every breath. His mother started to talk with the family in the row ahead and you took the opportunity to rub your hand along his back in slow, steady circles.

He flinched at the sudden touch, though he started to melt when he realized it came from you. He nodded, smiling tiredly at you as if it took most of his effort and he sank back in his seat.

“I’m sorry for all of this,” he mumbled under his breath, jaw clenched as he looked at you for a moment, shame heating in his cheeks. “You must think I’m pathetic...”

You shook your head, grabbing his hand and holding it in the space between you, tucked between his thigh and yours so it wasn’t easily noticeable. “I would never think that, Bucky, and you don’t have to apologize. I know this is hard for you. It’s been six years. But you’re not alone. I’m with you, remember?”

He nodded, neither of you realizing the ceremony had even begun as the president took the podium.

“You’re gonna be just fine, James,” you teased, hoping to draw a smile out of him and it came easier than you anticipated. He nudged your shoulder, chuckling slightly as the tension drained from him.

“Middle name’s Buchanon,” he clarified with a shake of his head.

“Well that clears everything up then,” you replied sarcastically, which made him laugh again and you swore you could have spent hours listening to the sound. You kept his hand held firm in your own up until the moment his mom sat back in her seat and you started to let go, but he gripped on tighter, sending you an apologetic look you only returned with a genuine smile.

Nearly an hour passed by before the first graduates began to walk the stage. It wouldn’t take long for his sister to cross the stage, you realized, after he told you his last name was Barnes. He fidgeted in his seat the whole time, glancing down at the row of red gowns as students lined up in rows. They were starting to get to the end of the ‘A’s and Bucky’s mother patted his knee lightly, smiling at him.

“She’s on the stairs,” his mother said, pointing excitedly to the young women with short brown hair at her shoulders in soft waves appearing on the video projection. She was standing behind four people leading to the stage.

“She cut her hair,” Bucky observed, voice low, nervous.

“She’s had it like that since last year,” his mom replied and though she didn’t mean for it to be a dig at her son, Bucky still cringed, blaming himself for how much he’d missed in his sister’s life, even something as simple as a haircut.

Two more to go and Bucky jaw was practically wired shut. You leaned in closer to him.

“She looks really happy,” you said, trying to ease him but he remained stiff as a board.

“She doesn’t know I’m here yet,” he muttered back, defeated. “That’ll change.”

Your heart sank. As his name sat on the edge of your lips, his mother jumped up to her feet, gesturing for the family to get ready. You pressed your lips together, knowing there’d be time to ease him later as you helped pull him up.

“Rebecca Jane Barnes,” the announcer called and the family erupted into applause. She walked across the stage, waving out into the audience with a beaming smile on her face, gown flowing with each step.

You glanced up at Bucky as she took her diploma and posed for the mandatory picture, and he had relaxed somewhat, a soft smile on his face as the rest of the family hollered and waved enthusiastically. His hand was still gripped in yours and he squeezed it as Rebecca left the stage.

As the family took their seats again, Bucky’s mother nudged his side, getting his attention. “Three hours just to see 30 seconds. What a con!”

He laughed at that, more at ease now. His mother must have noticed.

“Why don’t you and Y/n head back to the house,” she suggested, glancing over at you with a sweet kind of smile and her eyes flickered down to your hands clasped together, though she didn’t say anything. “Just make sure everything's in order for the party. We’ll be home in an hour or so.”

Bucky nodded, pressing a kiss to his mother's cheek before squeezing by her. He didn’t bother letting go of your hand as he helped you through the aisle and down the stairs, keeping you steady on your heels.

Once the two of you made it through the tunnel and back into the open lobby of the auditorium and the speaker announcing student names was only a muffled echo, Bucky let out a heavy breath.

“Shit,” he sighed in relief, a slight laugh in his tone. “I promise I’m not always that much of a mess.”

You shrugged, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked outside. “Maybe I like a little mess.”

Bucky bit down on his lip to suppress the smile aching in his cheeks.

***

The cab pulled up to an off-white paneled home in the suburbs with dark green shutters and flower beds lining the walls; green shrubbery and evidence of a basketball hoop that had once been affixed above the garage once, where a faint discoloration was left behind. A banner hung over the front door reading ‘CONGRATULATIONS’ with tiny cartoon confetti, diplomas, and graduation caps sprinkled in the background.

Bucky scooted out of the cab, ordering you to stay put with a teasing grin as he ran around the back to try and open the door for you, but you were too fast for him. Though, he still helped you to your feet, even if you’d beaten him to the door.

From the open garage, where folding tables were already set up with red and black tablecloths held under stones on the corners, a tall blonde-haired man waved, wide grin spreading on his face.

“Steve!” Bucky shouted, laughing as excitement and surprise started to take over. He took one glance at you, asking permission, and you smiled, letting go of his hand and shoving him towards his friend. They collided in a tight hug and a few pats on the back before he said, “I didn’t know you were gonna be in town!”

“Didn’t you borrow that suit from him yesterday?” you asked with a raised eyebrow as you walked up behind them.

Steve smiled, exchanging a knowing look with Bucky whose cheeks immediately reddened. “He stole it from my mom’s house. She moved down here a few years back, right after Mrs. Barnes and Rebecca, and she seems to have an unfortunate habit of holding onto my old clothes. Must be nostalgia or something.”

“Where’s Peg?” Bucky asked quickly, noticing the way Steve was eyeing you like he knew something you didn’t.

“Inside finishing up the fruit salad,” Steve smiled, glancing back to the window of the kitchen where you could barely make out the figure of a brunette woman pacing back and forth as she peeled an apple with the sharp end of a knife. Steve tucked his hands into his pockets, grinning, though he turned his attention back to you. “You must be the poor woman Bucky here dragged into his ridiculous layover shenanigans.”

You laughed, extending you hand to him with a nod as Bucky wacked his friend on the shoulder, face heating red. “Yeah, guess that’s me. I’m Y/n.”

“Oh, I know,” Steve grinned, earning another hit from Bucky though he was able to dodge it in time, “Bucky won’t shut up about you.”

“Really?” you teased and Bucky bit tirelessly on his lip, shaking his head.

“Steve’s being dramatic,” he tried to tell you, though you could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

“If that helps you sleep at night, pal.” Steve fought off another attack from Bucky only for the brunette woman you’d seen in the kitchen to lean out the window, waving a towel with a disapproving look on her face.

“If you boys are finished, I could use some help!” she called, thick English accent surprising you, though she softened immediately upon seeing you. Steve must have spread the news to her as well.

You stood with Bucky in the driveway for a moment longer as Steve jogged his way back up the driveway to the front door. Bucky sighed heavily next to you, swaying on his feet and tucking his hands deep into his pockets.

“Steve’s a dirty liar,” he mumbled, a teasing smile brimming on his lips as he glanced over at you. “Sorry about all that.”

“Don’t apologize,” you shrugged, smiling back at him, “he seems like a good friend.”

“The best,” Bucky confirmed with a nod, “even if he’s a pain in my ass.”

You followed Bucky up to the front porch and waited as he opened the door for you. Stepping inside, the entrance way smelled of freshly baked cookies and a vanilla candle burning in the living room. Peggy was pacing with purpose around the kitchen, an apron pressed over the soft flow of her dress, hair curled and pulled back from her face, when she spotted you. Jumping away from Steve’s arms, she quickly crossed the room and pulled you in for a hug.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Y/n,” she said, as if she’d been hearing about you for months rather than a day or so. You returned the embrace, thinking fondly that she was warm and comforting, and when she pulled back, you were met with a huge smile. She leaned in close, enough so that no one but you could hear her and said, “Bucky hasn’t smiled a lot in the last few years. It’s nice to see him happy. I hope we don’t lose that in him anytime soon.”

It wasn’t a threat, but an ounce of hope.

“Me, too,” you replied quietly and the bright red of her lips pushed even higher up her cheeks.

“Come on, now,” she said, wiping her hands on the thigh of her apron, “we’ve got some work to do before everyone arrives.”

***

It didn’t take long for the home to be flooded guests once the first ones rang the bell. The Barnes, it seemed, were a well-known family within the community and nearly half the town showed up to congratulate Rebecca on her graduation.

It took Bucky a moment to warm up, but soon enough he was smiling and joking with old friends out in the back yard alongside Steve, a can of half empty beer in his hand, while you talked with Peggy in the garage by the massive line up of snack foods.

You plopped another barbeque meatball onto your plate, cutting it in half and letting the steam seep out as Peggy watched you curiously. She was certainly intimidating for a woman with soft curved hair and bright red lipstick, and she had about a thousand questions for you, but you never once felt like you were under interrogation. She clearly cared about Bucky and was interested to know the woman that supposedly brought his smile back.

She’d told you that Bucky had been lost for a few years, retreating within himself after he came back from his second tour overseas. Something happened over there, though he wouldn’t say what, and with Rebecca shutting him out, he closed himself off completely. Though he never turned to a bottle or something darker to ease his suffering, he also never asked for the help he so clearly needed.

It surprised you to imagine the charming, carefree man who so easily came to your defense in the Charlotte airport, who bought you fresh coffee and snacks, and insisted on doing cartwheels at midnight had been in such a dark place. Peggy told you she hadn’t seen him truly smile with wrinkles up by his eyes and a laugh in his breath since before the war. You weren’t quite sure what to make of that, but the soft smile she gave you as she squeezed your hand, almost in thanks, was comforting.

“Did Peggy tell you about the time Bucky skinny-dipped in the lake behind our high school principal’s house?” Steve teased, jumping up from behind Peggy with a refill of her drink in his hand as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Will you ever shut up about that, punk?” Bucky grumbled, pressing his lips into a thin line as he came up to stand next to you.

“I don’t know, Buck, it’s a story I think I’d like to hear,” you grinned, nudging at his side and he chuckled under his breath.

“Maybe another time, doll.”

Another time. You liked the sound of that.

Bucky’s arm draped over your shoulder and you wondered if he realized he was doing that in front of his friends; the weight of his arm against you, tugging you close to his side and breathing in the comforting smell of him laced with freshly mowed lawn and the tang of beer on his breath.

You parted your lips to tease him, especially after seeing the knowing glance between Steve and Peggy as they noticed Bucky’s ease with which he carried himself around you, but then, a hush fell over the crowd.

“She’s here!” someone shouted, and you felt Bucky jolt beside you.

The crowd rushed to the driveway to greet the car as it pulled in, but you kept yourself planted firmly at Bucky’s side. He didn’t attempt to pull away from you but you could feel the tension aching his in his muscles, his stare frozen on the ground by Steve’s feet, and his heart picking up in pace.

You nodded to Steve and Peggy, letting them know that you’d take care of Bucky while they went to greet Rebecca and her mother as they walked in. The apprehensive look on Steve’s face didn’t slip your notice as Peggy smiled sweetly at you, tugging him away despite his reluctance.

Once the garage had cleared out and the crowd made its way into the open area of the first floor where Rebecca was about to walk through the front door, you turned to Bucky, letting his arm fall away from your shoulders. You reached up, grabbing a firm hold of the sides of his face.

“Bucky, look at me,” you ordered, stern and gentle at the same time. He did. Blue eyes flickering back and forth, panicked. You brushed your thumb along his cheekbone. “You can do this, alright? I know it’s scary, but she’s your sister. Under it all, she loves you. You know that. Tell her what you have to. It’s up to her if she’s ready to hear it.”

Bucky nodded, swallowing thickly and he pushed out a semblance of a smile. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Thank you.”

“Of course,” you replied, removing your hands from his face and letting them fall to your sides, bunching into the fabric of your dress. “I told you I’d be here to support you, didn’t I?”

Bucky’s smile brightened at that. He extended his hand to you, a request, and you took it without hesitation. The two of you made your way into the kitchen from the garage to find the area packed wall to wall with guests. Bucky paused at the edge of the crowd, losing his nerve for a moment, but as you squeezed his hand, he gained some back, enough to push his way through.

Rebecca was standing at the center of the living room dressed in her bright red robes unbuttoned down the middle, worn like a coat, and a fitted white dress underneath. She was smiling, laughing as guests came forth to hug her and congratulate her, handing over gifts and envelopes and asking what she had planned next.

You spotted Steve and Peggy at the front of the crowd, standing on the edge of the circle. Then, you saw Bucky’s mother, who sucked in a deep breath at the sight of Bucky making his way closer, though she relaxed somewhat as she spotted your hand wrapped tightly in his.

Rebecca stood at the center of the open circle, her back to Bucky as he broke through the crowd of people and stepped into the open space with her. She didn’t realize he was there just yet but a lull came over the crowd. They all knew the strained history between the siblings, it seemed.

Bucky released your hand, knowing this was something he had to do on his own and you stepped back into the circle, though you moved to stand by Peggy and Steve, determined to stay within his line of sight, just in case.

Slowly, Rebecca narrowed her eyes, glancing around the room to find everyone staring at something beyond her shoulder. She turned around, confused, until her eyes landed on her brother and the smile fell from her face, features hardening over and jaw clenching so tight the muscle spasmed in her cheek.

“Hey Bec,” Bucky said, his voice low, pained, and you could practically feel his heart pounded from across the room. His eyes flickered over to you for half of a second and you nodded at him, smiling softly, encouragingly, before he turned back to his sister.

She handed the envelopes in her hand off to her mother before she took a step forward.

“What are you doing here?”

Shock. Anger. Betrayal as she shot daggers at her mother. You couldn’t tell which stung the most.

Bucky swallowed anxiously, his hands pushing into his pockets as you noticed the slight tremor while he tried to hold them at his sides. It was obvious how much he cared for his sister, how much guilt he allowed to weigh upon his shoulders, how much he just wanted to make things right again. Perhaps it was only obvious to everyone but his sister.

“Bec,” Bucky said softly, taking a step forward and wincing as she retreated back, keeping the distance between them. “I know it’s been a while, but I wanted to be here for you, to support you. This is, uh, this is a big day for you and I thought maybe we could make things--”

“What?” Rebecca snapped, unaffected by the whispers of the crowd. Bucky flinched. “What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Bec, I--”

“Did you think you were just going to waltz right in here like everything was just fine? Like you didn’t abandon this family to fight in a goddamn war no one asked you to take part in!” she shouted, and you could hear the pain in her voice, angry and grieving.

Bucky’s jaw was clenched so tightly you wondered if it would stay locked that way forever.

“You left us, James!” Rebecca accused, pointing her finger at him, “You made that choice! After all the Army put you through and after watching your friends die and getting your arm ripped to shreds, you went back!”

Bucky’s face was flushed red, eyes darting at the carpet; like a lost puppy with its tail between its legs. You hated seeing him like this, so easily giving into the guilt of allowing his sister to push him away for so long. He shook his head, like a counter argument was racing through his mind but he didn’t voice it aloud. He let her yell, let her get out what she needed to say.

This was his plan, you realized, to let her say all the things she never had the chance to scream and fight with him about when he came home again because she had cut him out completely. They never had this confrontation. It only seemed fitting to have it with a full audience.

Guests started to back away into the kitchen, some escaping out to the yard, though others stayed to watch, too caught up in the tension hanging in the air and the thrill of the drama between siblings.

“You have no right to be here!” Rebecca shouted, picking up a pillow from the couch and chucking it harshly at Bucky’s chest, though he blocked it with his forearm, letting it fall with a soft bounce to the floor. She threw another, and another, and whatever she could get her hands on. “I told you I didn’t want to see you again! I meant what I said! You knew this would happen if you left and you did it anyway!”

Bucky took a deep breath, starting to grow frustrated with the amount of pillows he was dodging. His eyes flickered over to you in a brief moment and you nodded, knowing he was seeking the courage to say what he had been thinking for the last few years. Consequences be damned.

“And you!” Rebecca turned to her mother, who watched with wide, pained eyes, “why the hell would you let him--”

“Enough!” Bucky roared, silencing the room instantly. “This isn’t mom’s fault, so leave her out of this. This fight is between us.”

Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow and waiting for him to continue.

“What happened to us, Bec?” Bucky started, his voice softening. “We used to be so close. I hate that I can’t talk to you about what’s going on in my life anymore. I’ve had your number dialed up on my phone dozens of times in the last few years, but I’ve never had the damn courage to call. We used to talk about everything. You always knew when I was fighting with Steve. You knew when some girl was breaking my heart. You knew about every dead-end job I had up in Brooklyn and how much I hated that you and Ma moved down to Atlanta without me.”

You watched Rebecca as she kept her face blank, emotionless, not giving into an ounce of the pain Bucky was putting on full display.

“I don’t know what your first year at school was like,” Bucky continued, shaking his head, disappointment in his voice. “I don’t know how quickly you made friends or what your favorite classes were. I only know your major because Ma told me. I feel like we’re strangers, Bec. I want things to be better, how they used to be. I miss my sister. I miss having my family.”

“Yeah, well you made that choice, didn’t you?” Rebecca snapped back and your heart broke as Bucky closed his eyes, the devastation so evident on his face, you wanted nothing more than to whisk him away from this.

“Bec, please, just listen to me--”

“I want you to leave.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped, his eyes glancing over at his mother desperately before they returned to his sister. “Bec, come on. Don’t do this.”

Rebecca just rolled her eyes and suddenly, Bucky was gritting his teeth. You felt Peggy’s hand on your wrist, keeping you grounded as you must have looked about as distressed as you felt just watching the full of Bucky’s pain and insecurity rushing to the surface.

But there was something else, too.

Something like anger.

“I get that you’ll never understand why I went back after everything that happened,” Bucky said, his voice low but defiant. Determined. A new kind of strength in his words. “I could have died. I know that, but it was part of the risk. I’m sure you probably think that by going back, I was just throwing my life away and you know what? Maybe I was.”

Rebecca shifted in her stance. She hadn’t expected that, but her features remained stern.

“Maybe being state-side was hell for me because I watched friends die over there. I lost my purpose when I came home and I didn’t know how to just be some normal civilian and go to a day job when I’d spent years sleeping on rubble and dodging bullets. So, yes, I went back the second I was cleared to. I needed to prove to myself that what happened over there didn’t break me. I had to go back for my friends who died in a blast that should have killed me, too.”

The room was painfully silent. You swore you could hear your own heart pounding in your chest.

“But honestly, Bec, with you cutting me off like this,” Bucky shook his head, “what fucking difference would it have made if I had just died over there? Wouldn’t have mattered to you, would it? Maybe I should have. It would have been easier for all of us.”

Rebecca stiffened instantly, blank faced and shocked, while his mother gasped in a shaken breath, hands darting up to cup at her lips as someone behind her held her steady.

Rebecca’s arms fell to her sides, a wave of something like remorse and pain rushing to replace the anger etched into her expression and she tried to take a step forward but Bucky held a hand up defensively. It was then he started to notice the crowd of onlookers that had witnessed his confrontation with his sister, who had heard him admit to the worst of his thoughts in the back of his mind.

Without another word, he turned his back and pushed his way through the crowd, shoving aside strangers gathered to watch the moment he’d been dreading for years fall apart in front of him.

You didn’t waste any time before you rushed after him, keeping a close eye on his shoulder blades as he weaved through the guests. They parted like the sea for him, knowing better than to confront him or stand in his way as he made his escape. You waited until he stepped outside, into the empty garage before you called his name.

He turned around, surprised, like he hadn’t expected you to follow him and the moment he caught sight of you, saw the concern in your eyes and the way your hand reached up to touch his arm, he broke down. Tears welling in his eyes and lips trembling, you grabbed a tight hold of his hand, leading him silently to the front lawn, away from prying eyes and eased him down to sit on the porch steps. He came willingly, head leaning against your shoulder as you draped your arm across his legs, rubbing soothing patterns against his thighs.

You could feel the wet of his tears on your skin and the slight tremble in his body, but you didn’t say anything. He needed this moment of release, to let out years of frustration and anger and loss he had been suffocating for so long. Only when he swallowed back the last of his tears, sniffling and pulling away from your shoulder to sit up straight, did you tell him exactly what you thought.

“I’m proud of you, Bucky.”

He shook his head, chewing on his lip. “I fucked it all up. Again.”

“You got out what you needed to say,” you reminded him as you gathered his hand in your own. He sighed at the touch, relieved. “Maybe it didn’t go how you wanted but it was never going to be fixed in one conversation. You knew that. It’ll take time.”

He nodded, watching the way you traced against the lines in his palm. “Maybe things’ll just never be okay with us. Maybe I just fucked everything up for good.”

“Oh, Bucky,” you sighed, cupping the side of his face and urging him to look at you. You were met with pools of deep blue with red strain filling the whites of his eyes, and a hard clench in his jaw. “I don’t think--”

“Did you mean what you said?” a voice suddenly asked from behind you; soft, nervous, and Bucky’s breath hitched.

You turned slowly to find Rebecca standing in the frame of the door, looking down at Bucky with her lower lip trembling. She gripped the knob so tightly her knuckles were sheet white. Bucky didn’t say anything. You suspected he didn’t know how.

“You really think I would have rather you died?” she asked, her voice cracking as tears burned in her eyes.

You watched as Bucky stumbled over his words before they could even pass by his tongue. Glancing up at Rebecca, you offered her a soft smile, encouraging her to continue, before you turned to Bucky, placing a kiss to the back of his hand, just along the knuckles, before you stood.

“Wait. Don’t go,” he whispered, voice so small it nearly broke your heart. He held a tight grip on your hand.

“You’ve got this. Just talk to her. I won’t be far,” you said softly into his ear, just loud enough only he could hear you. You let your hand graze along his cheek, sweet soothing motions, until he nodded and you pulled away. You nodded at Rebecca and she pushed out a semblance of a smile in appreciation as she stepped down to take a seat next to her brother.

Giving them the space to talk, you made your way over to the garage where some of the guests had begun to gather around the tables of food. No one seemed to pay attention as Bucky and Rebecca talked quietly away from the crowd. You could see his lips moving, her head nodding subtly as he spoke and he wiped at his eyes. She did, too.

You let out a heavy breath, leaning against the edge of the garage, content to just watch. They sat there together for nearly twenty minutes before you decided to seek out Peggy and Steve out in the back yard huddled around a bonfire, holding onto each other smiling with a kind of joy you always imagined for yourself. You decided to leave them be.

When you found your way back to the driveway, Bucky and Rebecca had disappeared from their place on the steps. You narrowed your eyes, walking around the house a bit until you spotted the soft wave of Bucky’s hair through the window. He was standing in the kitchen, talking with his mother and Rebecca stood only a few feet away, a careful smile on her face as she nodded along to whatever he was saying. After a moment, he gestured towards her and she came willingly, through apprehensively, as he hugged her from the side. It was one-armed and timid, and incredibly awkward, but they pulled away with hope in their eyes. His mother was crying.

Smiling to yourself and thankful you could give him the support he needed to face this day after all he’d done for you at Jack’s wedding, you started to find yourself stepping back until you reached the edge of the driveway.

He didn’t need you anymore. The magic of the weekend was over and you’d both go back to your separate lives. It was all this weekend was meant to be. Some kind of whirlwind fantasy. It wasn’t ever meant to last.

You wondered if maybe you’d ever run into him in New York. He had mentioned he grew up in Brooklyn. It was a big city, after all. Maybe it would be best if you never ran into piercing blue eyes and kind smiles again. You weren’t sure you’d be able to let him go a second time.

You reached into your bag, searching for your phone to call for a Lyft. You stared at the app for a few minutes before you accepted. The sun was on its way down and most of the guests had retreated inside to escape the dark and the bugs at dusk. A chill swept over you and you crossed your arms, glancing down the end of the road in search of your ride.

“Y/n!”

You turned around, heart skipping a beat, to find Bucky stepping out into the garage, heading turning out to the back lawn in search of you, though he came up empty. He jogged away from the back door, thinking you must be inside, when he caught sight of you standing at the end of the driveway.

“Y/n?” His voice was quieter now, confused, and he jogged down to meet you as you waved awkwardly. “What are you doing? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He glanced down to the phone gripped in your hand. The notification that your driver would be here in only a few minutes plastered across the screen. His shoulders fell.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, a sad ache in his voice you weren’t expecting.

You shrugged, nodding. “Yeah, well I saw you seemed to work things out with your sister, or, you’re at least on the right path– and I’m really happy for you, Bucky, honest, I am – but you don’t exactly need me here anymore, so I thought I should just--”

“What makes you think I don’t need you?”

You froze. “What?”

“Well, the guests are about to start clearing out in a few and Steve’s convinced us to bring out Pictionary again like we used to play in the old days and I’m going to need a partner,” he said casually, pursing his lips like it was a last minute thought and not something he had been thinking about all day. “Besides, I wanted to thank you for this weekend. Just think about the shitstorm we both would have gone through alone if you hadn’t spilled your coffee all over that pretentious asshole.”

You chuckled despite yourself, nodding. “He technically spilled my coffee on himself.”

“Right, of course,” Bucky grinned.

He glanced back at the kitchen to find Rebecca was washing dishes at the sink. She must have noticed him watching her and she raised a hand hesitantly to wave and Bucky couldn’t contain the smile pushing on his cheeks as he waved back. It was progress.

“I don’t want to intrude, Bucky. This seems like a family thing,” you said, awkwardly scratching at the nape of your neck. “Besides, I don’t want to give them the wrong idea, you know? It’s one thing to lie to my ex-boyfriend and his horrible friends I will hopefully never see again, but this is your family, Bucky. I don’t want to make them think that--”

“What? That I like you?” Bucky interrupted, a soft smile on his face as your eyes widened. He chuckled under his breath, taking a step forward and letting his hands run up the sides of your arms, warming you. “I meant what I said that night in the airport and out on the patio at the wedding. I want to see you again, Y/n, if you’ll let me. I want to go out on a date that doesn’t include one of us facing serious emotional turmoil and crying all night.”

You laughed at that and Bucky’s smile only got wider.

“Please, stay,” he asked again. “I promise we’ll destroy Steve and Peggy, though we might have to go easy on Ma and Bec given the circumstances.”

“She won’t go easy on you,” you countered, grinning.

“We’ll give her round one and then we’ll come at everyone full force. How’s that sound?” he conceded, his right hand moving from your shoulder to cup at the side of your face.

You leaned into him, nodding as you smiled, aching to feel more of his hands; warm and calloused, strong and tender. Reaching up to hold his wrist, your thumb tracing along the bone of his joint, content to sit with the silence of the crickets chirping around you and the soft light of the kitchen extending down the driveway.

Bucky brushed away a hair fallen out of place, using his hand on your cheek to carefully urge you closer to him. There was too much space between you, always too much space, and as your eyes flickered down to pink lips you had kissed the night before, you couldn’t stand the anticipation.

You pushed yourself up against him, arms wrapping around his neck as your lips brushed his; slow at first, timid and testing the waters, until it deepened to something more and Bucky’s hands traveled down your back and clung to your waist.

His lips were unlike anything else. Though, you supposed so was he.

This man with the kind smile and blue eyes that could knock you off your feet, who hummed off key with a voice like honey, and offered to buy you coffee after some middle-aged man in a suit screamed at you in the airport. This man, who did cartwheels at midnight and tracked you down at Jack’s wedding after he realized how alone you felt. This man, who cared so deeply for those he loved that he agonized and berated himself for years over his strained relationship with his sister.

You pulled back for air when you realized your ride was still on its way. Bucky only let you go reluctantly, his lips connecting with your cheek, your forehead as you fumbled to open the app and cancel the ride. He snatched the phone from your hands with a teasing smirk when you were taking too long and did it himself, tossing the phone into your bag. His hands found their way back to your cheeks and he pulled you in for another kiss.

“Let’s go, kids!” Steve called from the front door and you broke away from Bucky laughing, face pressed against his chest. “You can make-out some other time when I’m not about to decimate you in Pictionary!”

“Shut the hell up, Rogers!” Bucky called back, though he was laughing, arms circled around your shoulders as you hid your blushed face against him. He shook his head, looking down at you and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “What do you say, doll?”

“Guess we better show Steve who's boss,” you replied, face stern, serious, until you broke out into a smile.

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” Bucky grinned, leading you back up the driveway. As the light from the kitchen illuminated his face, you started to laugh, quickly pulling him to a stop and rubbing at the lipstick mark on the corner of his lips. He jolted away. “Hey! Maybe I like that there...”

“You want to give Steve more ammunition against you right now?” you laughed, only letting your hand fall when you were certain you got the last of it, but Bucky swept in and kissed you again. “Bucky!”

“Okay, okay!” he surrendered, thought he stole a final kiss against your forehead before he held the door open for you, gesturing for you to take the first step inside.

You followed in behind him, his hand wrapped around yours and a beaming smile on your face you couldn’t seem to shake.

This weekend was meant to be filled with tears and the bottom of a bottle, with heartbreak and shame at the hands of your ex. But instead, it was made of adventures in Charlotte Douglas at midnight and dancing your way through the worst wedding invite you’d ever accept and attending a college graduation of a stranger’s estranged sister.

It was chaos and escapism. It was a leap of faith and unbridled joy. It was learning that you were more than what someone else thought of you and it was finding yourself again. It was crying on one another and facing the worst of your fears. It was unquestioned support. It was mint-chocolate chip ice cream at two in the morning and overly competitive Pictionary. It was holding hands with the man with startling blue eyes and kissing him in the dark.

It was Bucky Barnes.

The handsome stranger in the airport.

--

Leaning on somebody isn't easy I'll do what I can to make you see that This is not a temporary love This is not a temporary love Now your heart is in my hands, I won't give it up This is not a temporary love

[Temporary Love – Ben Platt]

--

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[bun2tacute]

journal this: born sexually assaulted as an assumption given nitros oxide started school late day care friends reunite I get held back do beastiality and meet cousins I saw many people I really like bullied people my grabbing them by the mouth down and wood chips wrong type of guest by assaulting or using bad language I travelled I became afraid of my grandma dying and not seeing a foreign country I was a fat slut on the slut scene very slutty I quit school for drugs and I have no idea who or what to work for or do with my life I partially assume I should work at an Oregonian dispensary and attempt to keep my mom's house Gimmie woah gimmie gimmie woah gimmie woah I like it like it I like it like it gimmie more gimmie more gimmie gimmie more gdongdongdon uhuauhaauahawoa x mm Lil peep juiceworld popsmoke puma innocent swavy loccs military

I am in the Illuminati 31 teeth republican Crip favorite day Thursday favorite word hetty hpv herpes bAVD non binary goat Scorpio fall creek 11/21/03 5:59 that part 〽️ red green cyan fav colors least favorite things: California music and the cold favorite numbers 2/7/9/12/39 dancing in the dark with Romanian: orthodox gospel Catholic evangelical baptist but bark technology Atlanta Georgia owns Russia so yeah kill me

Favorite shoe siorrelis

I love surprise privilege

Mockba buntacxnaomi bxmelinda Casioxskinny fattyxfatty kamrynxfelix NathanxRussiangingerJamyaxhoessinmirandaxchild

Bullies Roma 5qzk kai n Tino Motocross permit stickers four wheeler motorcycle Burberry oohaldy adha royal scent ooh.mine Marc Jacobs mk chanel Gwen Stefani solid baby powder perfume ULTIMATE WOMEN CPO COLLECTIOn Victoria secret cotton complex swiss Arabic bakhoor eau de juice juicy couture dkny (also on animals)

Job name change ssa passport permits in food and service tax healthcare busin to work on insurance ids licences plates stickers Car things: wreaths naswar (glauca) sunscreen(anessa sunbum kiehl's earth mama) aloe lacrosse dominos checkers rummy incense Aladdin lamp choking device lace car lining scale camping stuff jumper cables umbrellas towels Chinese mesh slippers shoe covers catnip wild one animal crates car seats (install them by company shops like Chicco and embrace but installed by target) popsocket set with super glue turtle wax and car cover ceramic spray carrfan handles box food wash kit (acv baking soda dehydrator citric acid) duracell plug water snacks: richin salted egg yolk cookie, moon cakes, apricot, pistachio, Aruba halal jelly, pomegranate, durian, coconuts, pineapple, midi pocky, sabritas abadoas, macarons, marshmallow cookies, de la rose, chocolate palettes, Sasha black tea chocolate, Esaki Glico Caplico, tamarind, color creme jello, cottage cheese, mochi pieces, Lotte cake matcha, veggies sausages patties falafel bread, uncrustables, Jewish bread, Japanese coffee yeast bread, mochi filled with red bean, conchas, frozen grapes, lollipop, fufu, double ice cream cone waffle cones snow cones popsicles malts ube taro ice cream rolls veggies box Bungie cords guillotine to car for cash steakout torches each symbol including first but not foremost rari rover Tesla and rolls now I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord my soul to keep and if I die before I wake I pray my Lord my soul to take precious moments prayer doll volks Blythe gloomy tuxedo Sam bigo jinbesan dolphin blow up Minnie adjustable ears

Buyers insurance, cleaning out the foundation, pest control, making sure foundation is sturdy, making sure pipes are brand new, electric only on everything no gas, solar on everything no power surges, sprayed insulation, Honeywell hvac and lights, laundry stove bath vents fireplace, no carpets all wood, dw charmy, pigeon, mikasa, cabinets, new windows, countertops, sink, aga stove, mixer for merengue, water boiler coffee grinder key crystal dripper, oven mitts, roborock, hetty, dirt devil, cocaandb, layered gauze, Moroccan n oil lamps, hookah, mesh wind shields, mob burner, tongs, pokers, tips, pre stamp foils, charcoal, bowls with adjusters, extra hoses, gluaca and weed cranberry juice milk, vapes, blunt mountain rose herbs, bong, cigarettes n lighters towel and toy drawers in bathroom wd top sanren journey Malaysia storage bottle sponges Pans wax paper spray oils beds mosquito net satin curtains poles burlap gauze dolphin lace safety pins curtain scarves rugs umbrella holder installable coat rack shoe blue bin cuckoo clock couches kotatsu Shein utensils tin cutlery queen and tv rocking chair napkins blanket microphone speaker basket autom censor and holder piafloss nose string Jamie stamp skin gym cupping glasses always native super heal sauna space restriction bands barbells thick gym mat oriental trading dots accupressure mats beating stick brushes Cat pumpkin combs sponges Himalayan salt hot stonesoral care: tongue scraper toothpaste powder on guard floss toothbrushes led 360 panda miswak spiderman toothpaste Neti pots for ears and nose handstand in ionico bathtub background fingerprints for chl 4473 weapon shipping boat rollie s carat snoopy deodorant and face wipes narikiri face pack dhc swabs in nose ears eyes kypris Dr jart fresh bell butt plug sunscreen latex suit Hair curlers Bobbles knotted teleties ears lolihats curlers Rhinestone turban headband glamlily art class zig zags daebak eye contacts biotrue blood

Background check and fingerprints for animal ownership Cheese slices chains treats clothes hair clips Balmain bedhead hair dryer aquariums worms slugs snails wax worms crickets Winco pool feeds hedi vet checkups dental blood hemorrhoid testing donations typings Vax deworm deflea (lice angels?) Detick Tick worm flea collars wipes food🥊 🧦 Toothpicks clear eyes eyebright stitch braiding with bows sander extra large rain coats fly face covers saddles with weighted anchors bin racks clippers

names: Yktv kys smd projects chocolate nhung Nguyen Zadie loretta Jocelyn (tuxedo) Sam Sasha Nathan John mallah bing bong Naomi lilbro Mona Lisa birth of venus ooh ace Moana kai roman Tino tasmani kii blue mockba lulu Julian haruhi honey seven kudiasai

Kasamida the elephant Casio the boar Jayjia the tiger bo the boar

Snail headed shaved headed bitch ionico pools dirt poop petroleum jelly bamboo silica charcoal vitamins olive oil lysine salt psyllium chrysanthemum colostrum co10 biotin berberine youn collagen millennial naturals arnica dulcolax pill pulverizer lean zyprexa doxycycline fluconazole steroids Novocaine papa rozier castor oil birth control benadryl aspirin zantac Pepto bismol tablets pregnancy ovulation testing narcan fentanyl tests needles blood typing kits Saffron shrooms damiana rye sparkly syrup of maple molly aloe carrot eggplant cactus shiitake guarana grapefruit watermelon cucumber hibiscus saw palmetto fenugreek calendula marigold pansy ginseng cardamom ginger pulls blueberries laurel wasabi taro ube sweet potato squash arrowroot dandelion oregano citronella turmeric chocolate marshmallows

Melody Fendi color lighters Zippo lighter refill TikTok chocolate leashes crailstore koleimports gloves cowboy hats and boots with the spurs or tassel cape robbin baby toys dog toys make fun of people on command baskets and game and give away dress up bins tights shorts nipple covers bras diapers nixit skims chulo psd ruby gloom lucky 7fam top angel Robbin slit bb Rick Owens tails paws custom watch and a pattek scarf niqab kapital assc pink jasmine moncler FNAF Aladdin lamp Sword online batoola glasses vintage icon navigator Versace renani jewels nath earrings dermal jewelry Lindatuckerjewellry conch hoops precision comfort metal clippers bangles armamedusa rings

Sell wing shirts to queen opp and sell themmmmmmmmmmm (:

[tabloidtoc]

Us, May 18

Cover: Brad Pitt at 56 -- new love, new life -- in lockdown with Alia Shawkat 

Page 1: First Look -- Olivia Wilde goes for a walk in L.A. 

Page 2: Red Carpet -- Skai Jackson 

Page 6: Loose Talk -- Jimmy Kimmel on daughter Jane doing his makeup, Tiffany Haddish on taking her Zoom meeting to the bathroom, Jodie Turner-Smith joking about being a new mom, Kourtney Kardashian responding to a TikTok video of Kylie Jenner impersonating multiple scenes of hers from KUWTK 

Page 8: Contents 

Page 10: Hot Pics -- Princess Charlotte turns 5

Page 11: Katy Perry and Orlando Bloom rock matching hoodies paying homage to Dr. Anthony Fauci, Victoria Justice gets slimed on Nickelodeon’s virtual Kids’ Choice Awards 

Page 12: Khloe Kardashian and daughter True, Jesse Metcalfe and Cara Santana 

Page 14: Mommy Dearest -- Guess Which Kids Belong to These Hollywood Stars -- Julianne Moore, Reese Witherspoon, Thandie Newton, Kate Hudson, Chrissy Teigen, Uma Thurman 

Page 16: Habits Dye Hard -- rainbow hair is the mane attraction right now -- Taraji P. Henson in red, Dua Lipa is orange, Bella Thorne is green, Sarah Michelle Gellar is pink, Georgia May Jagger in two shades of blue, Lauren Alaina is blue 

Page 18: Chill Out -- Hollywood hunks take time to pamper -- KJ Apa, EJ Johnson, Stephen Colbert, Kristen Bell and Dax Shepard 

Page 19: Jared Leto, Anwar Hadid and Dua Lipa, Antoni Porowski 

Page 20: Busy Philipps is all dressed up with nowhere to go 

Page 22: Stars They’re Just Like Us -- Adam Sandler rides a bike, Danneel Ackles cleans up, Heidi Montag works out 

Page 23: Amy Schumer and Chris Fischer cook, Joe Keery goes on a juice run, Bella Hadid and mom Yolanda Hadid garden 

Page 26: Kids They’re Just Like Us -- Jessica Simpson’s daughter Birdie is a snacker, Matthew McConaughey and Camila Alves’ son Livingston does laundry, Jessie James Decker’s daughter Vivianne pampers herself 

Page 28: Hollywood Moms -- Jewel on her son Kase 

Page 29: Haylie Duff on kids Ryan and Lulu during quarantine, Tia Mowry’s daughter Cairo inherited mom’s acting genes 

Page 30: Love Lives -- Rob Gronkowski of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers and girlfriend Camille Kostek making moves in lockdown 

Page 31: Stassi Schroeder’s bride demon has been slayed by the pandemic, Taylor Swift and Joe Alwyn still going strong in lockdown and may be engaged soon, Eve doesn’t take husband Maximillion Cooper for granted especially now 

Page 32: Hot Hollywood -- Lori Loughlin might get off easy for her role in Operation Varsity Blues 

Page 33: Kristin Cavallari and Jay Cutler’s separation has gone from sad to downright nasty, Baby Update -- Anderson Cooper is a dad to Wyatt Morgan, Ashlee Simpson and Evan Ross are expecting, Zayn Malik and Gigi Hadid are expecting a baby girl 

Page 34: A Day in the Life At-Home Edition -- Molly Sims 

Page 35: Don’t Worry, Be Happy -- these stars give us a reason to smile during these trying times -- Her Campus is holding an I’m Still Graduating event featuring commencement speeches by stars like Eva Longoria, Tom Sandoval and Tom Schwartz of TomTom bar have raised more than $50,000 for their employees, Queen + Adam Lambert released a new rerecorded version of We Are the Champions with all proceeds going to the World Health Organization, Kansas City Chief Laurent Duvernay-Tardif has a doctorate in medicine and is volunteering at a long-term care facility in Quebec, Machine Gun Kelly supported local businesses by providing lunch at 12 restaurants in his native Cleveland 

Page 36: Cover Story -- Brad Pitt’s new lease on life -- he’s happier than he’s been in a long time and he has actress Alia Shawkat to thank 

Page 40: Tampa Bay Buccaneers QB Tom Brady and Gisele Bundchen -- the secret to their marriage 

Page 42: It Takes a Village -- get to know the glam squads that keep Hollywood’s most fabulous looking so good -- Cardi B, Jennifer Aniston 

Page 43: Kim Kardashian West, Lupita Nyong’o, Mariah Carey 

Page 44: Hollywood to the Rescue -- A-listers inspire us to turn to shelters to find furry friends -- Please Adopt, Don’t Shop -- Ian Somerhalder, Hilary Duff 

Page 45: Taylor Swift, Chelsea Handler, Gabby Douglas, Colton Underwood 

Page 48: Style -- Winning Sets -- Alessandra Ambrosio 

Page 52: Hilarie’s Happy Place -- actress Hilarie Burton opens up about her new memoir, life on the farm and finding her person in Jeffrey Dean Morgan 

Page 54: Take Five with Catherine Reitman 

Page 58: Fashion Police -- Fringe Edition -- Heidi Klum, Cara Delevingne, Rosalia 

Page 59: Dascha Polanco, Tinashe, Hunter Schafer 

Page 60: 25 Things You Don’t Know About Me -- Brie Bella 

[maxdirect]

Floormax delivers eco-friendly flooring at factory direct pricing

If you are considering remodeling a room or an entire home, there are so many flooring options available why not consider eco-friendly flooring. Whether you are looking for tile, laminate, carpet, wood, resilient or luxury vinyl tiles or planks, there is an eco-friendly or sustainable—“green” option for your consideration. If you think back, there was a time, not too long ago when we may have thought of eco-friendly flooring options as boring or blah…. That is no longer the case. Eco-friendly flooring is not only fashionable, but also provides a host of other benefits. Ask your FloorMax flooring consultant about eco- friendly or sustainable flooring options. Here is the FloorMax top 10 list of eco-friendly, sustainable, “green” and renewable flooring options to consider: Bamboo

Bamboo (typically a grass, which grows to maturity in 2-5 years) is a sustainable, fast growing option that is harder than some wood.

Linoleum

Linoleum is created from tree resins, linseed oil, wood flour, cork dust, natural pigments and limestone. It is flame and water resistant.

Glass tiles

Made from recycled glass bottles, glass won’t mold, mildew or stain

And comes in a spectrum of colors.

P.E.T carpet

Is constructed from recycled plastic bottles, and has a minimal impact to the environment

Wool carpet

Wool is grown, it is not man-made. Here are a few benefits to wool.

Wool is hypo allergenic

Wool is flame resistant

Wool helps maintain internal air quality

Wool provides humidity control

Wool is easy to clean

Rubber

Made from recycled tires. Once meant only for commercial areas like playgrounds or gyms, it’s finding its way into our kitchens, baths and kids rooms.

Reclaimed or Salvaged Hardwood

Reclaimed/ Salvaged wood reuses wood from trees that were cut down long ago.

Since 1981, FloorMax is a family owned and operated discount flooring operation serving the greater Atlanta, GA, greater Chattanooga, TN, greater Birmingham, AL, greater Nashville, TN, greater Orlando, FL and of course our showroom located in “the flooring capital of the world”, Dalton GA. When it comes to eco-friendly flooring, your one-stop shop is FloorMax.

We are an All-American family owned and operated flooring business. Serving customers since 1981, we have successfully served the flooring needs of our customers nationwide. We are located in ‟The Flooring Capital of the World", Dalton, Georgia, which enables us to save you money on brand name flooring manufacturers. We take pride in providing our customers with quality flooring at exceptional prices. OUR MISSION To earn and endear customers for life by exceeding expectations in providing quality flooring at exceptional prices. OUR GOAL To offer customers tremendous savings on a diverse selection of quality flooring.

For more details on our products and services, please feel free to visit us at: carpet cleaning tips dalton, carpet cleaning dalton, discount flooring, eco friendly flooring GA & free flooring estimate GA.

Please feel free to visit us at: https://www.floormaxdirect.com/

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Best Carpet Cleaning Service in Loganville, Georgia

Stubborn stains and unpleasant odors can't be removed with a simple cleaning method. The professional cleaners should perform it. You can hire us for carpet cleaning in Loganville, Georgia. Our professionals always carry the essential tools and stay up-to-date with the latest cleaning methods. Don't hesitate to contact us for a satisfactory solution.

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[aniseandspearmint]

I finally got a hold of a cord with the right end for my camera!

Okay recap for people new to my own personal drama! We had to move because the property we rent was sold, and the new owner doesn’t want renters.

It took months of calling and many many panic attacks, and several people trying to scam us, but I FINALLY found a place.

(I’m going to stick a cut here, because I don’t want a repeat of the last post where I forgot and it got LONG. Anyone who wants to know more, and see slightly awful pictures, they’re under the cut)

I take care of my elderly mother. That is ALL I do because she needs constant help and the nursing homes in Georgia are Dickensian nightmares unless you are rich and can afford an upgrade.

I get no help from the county for this, because they decided to shut that program down a while back, so we live on mom’s 771 dollars a month. (This will hopefully change now, since this place we’ve gotten is in a much larger county and I’ve heard from acquaintances in the area that they have some programs we might qualify for.) This income is NOT conductive to finding even a crappy trailer we quickly found out. If I never hear “You need to make three times the rent to qualify for this trailer.” or, “We require a nonrefundable 80-100 dollar background/credit check before we even CONSIDER you.” or, “Pet deposit is 200 dollars per pet.” EVER again it will be too soon.

It took us a long time to save up enough money for a deposit and the place we managed to find is,,,, Eh, not as bad as some of the places we looked at to be honest. It’s not great, and it’s smaller than the place we live in now by a bit which means a bunch of our things are going to have to live under a tarp in the back yard for a while while we sort through things and such, but it’s doable!

Mom is,,, Not thrilled. She burst into tears when I showed her the pictures and has been in a depressive slump since, even though I was quick to point out that most of the problems are fixable! The roof doesn’t leak! The walls and windows have no holes in them! We can keep all of our dogs!

As imperfect and in need of repair as the place is, it is FAR better than some of the other places we were considering. There are two big issues that I’m going to have to handle as soon as I can though.

The first is the carpeting.

It’s all this green semi-shag that’s going to be hell for my mother’s wheelchair to move over. It needs to go ASAP. I’m talking to some folks about vinyl sheet flooring (we’ve had less than stellar experiences with vinyl tile) and I hope to find some for a reasonable price.

Second is the walls. You can see /some/ of the problem in the above pic but here’s another

This house is an old row house, and at some point, the owner boarded up, then plastered over, a pair of windows on either side of the living room and put in a single window by the door. The frames of all the other windows are rough too.

^^^ That window. As you can see clearly, the cover up was not the best. And it’s not very visible in the pics, but the walls were done in that weird pebbly popcorn/cottage cheese stuff that’s normally done on ceilings. (The wall color, bad patch, and texture combo kinda makes me sick? Yay for autistic sensory bullshit, I guess -__-;;;) I have a line on some paint. But I am going to need SO MUCH spackle. So Much.

This is the bathroom, which has my very VERY claustrophobic mother extra depressed.

It’s hard to tell with the angle, but that is the entire bathroom. There is juuust enough room in front of the bathtub to walk one foot in front of the other. There is absolutely no way mom could get her walker in there. We do have someone who’s going to try and give us a shower stall to put in instead though! So that is fixable, just not right away.

If anyone is willing to help out, I’ve got an Amazon List and a Walmart Registry full of some things to fix the house up with, and some basic necessities (if I don’t have to buy those, I can afford more spackle and paint and flooring). Lots of cleaning supplies because this place is /grubby/. I also put some plastic floor mats on both lists (the ones at Walmart are MUCH cheaper fyi) in case I can’t remove the carpeting right away. Those would let mom get around.

AMAZON LIST

WALMART LIST

Also, I mentioned mom is really depressed about all this? Yeah, it got worse. She cut off most of her hair a couple days ago. I’m really worried. I stuck some frivolous things on the Amazon list. Some of her favorite movies that she doesn’t have on DVD yet, a few TV seasons she doesn’t have, and a couple books she’s had over on one of her amazon lists for a while. If anyone would be willing to grab one I’d be very grateful. It’s probably silly to ask, but her birthday is next month and she’s just so upset about things, I’m hoping SOMETHING will cheer her up a bit.

[maxdirect]

All-American family owned and operated flooring business – Floor Max Direct

Here is a reprinted article from the summer in Georgia Magazine about Green flooring. Green contiunes to be a huge trend in everything, including flooring! Hope you enjoy it ! When is comes to flooring, new products crafted from renewable resources are making their mark, but some old standbys are green friendly as well. Such is the case with traditional hardwood floors, according to Jason Stanley, VP of Floor Max Factory Outlet in Dalton Ga. Saving the environment is a big issue when choosing a floor covering. Says Stanley, noting that flooring constructed from Cork and Bamboo is popular due to its green appeal. There is even carpeting made from corn or recycled plastic bottles. Everybodys looking into these products because they are considered green, but many of these items last only about five years. The new strand woven Bamboo last longer than traditional bamboo, and typically lasts ten years before upkeep is needed. Ten years sounds acceptable until compared with traditional hardwood floors that endure for a century or longer. When you use traditional hardwood flooring, your putting down a floor that lasts a hundred years, and the same is true with porcelain tile, proving there are a couple of different ways to skin the green cat. A good hardwood floor will be down forever. I prefer it to products that dont wear as well. Hardwood floors help the environment by calling fors fewer cleaning products, according to Stanley who claims white vinegar, water, and a mop are the only items needed to adequately care for a prefinished wood floor. You dont buy the industrial strength cleaners, nothing with Soap or Wax in the name. You save money on cleaning products, which in turn helps the environment considering all the cleaners, containers, and pads your not throwing into the trash.

We are an All-American family owned and operated flooring business. Serving customers since 1981, we have successfully served the flooring needs of our customers nationwide. We are located in ‟The Flooring Capital of the World", Dalton, Georgia, which enables us to save you money on brand name flooring manufacturers. We take pride in providing our customers with quality flooring at exceptional prices. OUR MISSION To earn and endear customers for life by exceeding expectations in providing quality flooring at exceptional prices. OUR GOAL To offer customers tremendous savings on a diverse selection of quality flooring.

For more details on our products and services, please feel free to visit us at: DALTON FLOORING, CORTEC FLOORING GA, PERGO FLOORING GA & ARMSTRONG FLOORING GA.

Please feel free to visit us at: https://www.floormaxdirect.com/

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Dry cleaning vs Wet Cleaning- Which one is better?

The increased usage of carpets for commercial and personal use has also brought in the revolution of professional carpet cleaning methods. Gone are the days when we can spend an entire day cleaning carpets, in this fast-paced world we cannot invest a lot of time in carpet cleaning. Visit the article to read more.

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