#Happy Wind Up Wiggle Wednesday

[habitual-creatures]

HAPPY WIND-UP WIGGLE WEDNESDAY!

BE SURE TO GET YOUR WIGGLES IN, RABBITS!

[ REGARDS, HABIT ]

[lathepoquerose]

@sulphuricgrin and @kiir-do-faal-rahhe thank you for tagging me in wip Wednesday! :3 since I'm already uploading a finished chapter of Epistle and Elegy tonight, I thought I'd post the opening of a chapter from my WIP fic "The Five Descents of Naome," which I'm planning to post as a completed work. Obviously no edits on this bad boy.

I TAG @pocket-vvardvark @hadvarandralof

Some light gore in this but I don't think it's anything too bad <3

I. THE BAD PLACE

Dovey-Rose awakens to the sensation of late summer prairie grass brushing against her skin and the distinctive scent of Sleeping Tree lilac tickling her nose. She lifts her sleep-hazy gaze to her baby girl's squishy cheeks and happily scrunched blue eyes, her chubby fingers gripped tightly around a soft purple blossom looming in her mother’s sight. The unclouded blue of Whiterun summer sets the little girl in a mid-afternoon halo. She lifts a hand to caress her baby-soft cheek. Having a daughter, she thinks, must be the closest thing to Aetherius a mortal can comprehend. 

Hi Momma. Amia signs, accompanied by a wave of the lilac sprig. Grandpa Isran Flower! Dove pushes herself up on her elbows, pulls her daughter into her arms, and presses a kiss to her forehead, adjusting the loose springs of curls slipping from her braids with the delicate touch of the prairie winds.

“Yes, that’s his favorite flower. He’d be right pleased to have it,” She speaks in accompaniment with each sign. But I might take it first!

Amia wiggles excitedly, hiding her dimpled smile behind the blossom before darting off in a very determined toddle, laughing as her bare feet stamp the prairie’s earthy soil. Dove’s loved her daughter long enough to know this is her silent challenge; you’ll have to catch me first! 

She gives her a momentary headstart before giving chase, the dry grasses grazing her hips, monoliths of bluestem casting golden shadows on her skin. Amia can’t seem to stop giggling as they traipse through the plains, pausing on occasion to pocket a smooth stone, a withering mass of sea oats, a lone bog violet. The growing collection touches Dove’s heart; these are the favorite things of Sorine, Agmaer, and Serana. What could bless a mother more than to see her child seek small kindnesses?

Each wobble-footed stamp tosses her daughter’s curls about her cheeks, her tiny stuffed mudcrab backpacked across her shoulders getting a face full of hair with every bounce. When her sweet girl looks back to see her mother chasing her, she squeals in delight, her nose scrunching up with her smile. 

That nose, that smile, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners. As Isran told it, Amia was born smiling. Happy to meet her mother, who had loved her so much already, he’d said. That baby girl could crack the coldest heart open. 

Sorine had pertinently informed him that she already had, and gestured towards the vampire hunter, drawing a rare chuckle. I thought Isran forgot how to laugh. Sorine had said softly in the library that evening between sips of spiced wine. It’s good. Mia is good for him. For all of us.

The light prairie colors begin to fade into the tall wild rye, and Dove quickens her playful pace as Amia runs headlong into the sunny labyrinth. Even with the wind kissing her cheeks, the grueling heat of deep Last Seed wears the excitement of the chase thin. Running has never been her strongest combat capability; no one could blame her. Try outrunnin’ a pissed off sabre cat after havin’ a kid. She’d drunkenly joked to Serana once. You’ll sure be pissed, just not off. 

“Mia baby, you sure can wear a girl out,” She huffs as she reaches down to scoop Amia’s shadow out of the brush and into her waiting arms. Instead, confusion seizes her as her foot catches on a prairie burrow, her embrace only serving to cushion her fall as her ribs hit the dusty soil. It knocks the wind out of her. She stays there for a moment, catching her breath, rolling her ankle to ensure it isn’t twisted. Good luck -- only a few scrapes to the elbows to show for the matter. She stands and brushes the dust off her day dress, sighing as she notices yet another tear in the seams. Another patch. Serana will be displeased. 

What follows this rather mundane line of thinking is the groan of anxiety settling in her stomach. Around her, mid-day winds rustle the rye. In the far distance, an elk lays hoof upon dried switchgrass. Farther still, a wolf howls. But there is no gurgling laugh, no tiny feet padding about the soil, no crush of flora in search of a pathway. No, in the matter of seconds she had been down, she had lost all auditory indications of her daughter’s whereabouts. And how? Only just a moment past, she was nearly beneath her. A toddler cannot run fast or far. There is only so much agility their tiny forms afford them. 

She takes a quenching breath. Her daughter is here. Somewhere. Distracted by a rabbit, perhaps, or kneeling in the dirt, constructing an effigy out of prairie clay. A mud crab, probably, or an unflattering portrait of her mother. This sets her whirling mind at ease, and she sets off North through the rye, stepping gingerly to avoid any further falls, ignoring the uncomfortable caress of the wraith grass at her hips. 

Motherly instincts tell her to call out for her daughter; these she ignores. Amia was born profoundly deaf; she could hear little but the shadows of a word or phrase with a mouth and a hand cupped to her ear. Across the wide prairie, and with the increasing cry of the wind, it’s doubtful anything would reach her. Dove settles for Laas-Yah-Nir, tossing her voice into the grass expanses to capture her daughter’s aura. A few butterflies. A prairie dog. To her left, a slow-shambling deer. Her throat grows tight. Aura Whisper reveals anything within an acreage. How could she have gone so far so quickly? 

Too soon the grasses give way to pine-littered cliffs, and anxiety again seizes territory in her belly. Amia simply couldn’t have gone this far -- the stones were too wetted with moss, the thick clay paths too muddy for a barefoot toddler to make adequate footing. Her mind fills with images of her daughter sliding off the mountain, crumpled in a heap in the stony tundras below. No. She pushes this away and takes a moment to orient herself, mustering another bout of Aura Whisper. Her heart jumps in relief. Far away the hazy red outline of a little girl appears, though how she managed to get so far Dove can’t comprehend. The woods before her is dense and sticky with coniferous trees, with hardly any room for movement between the tightly packed trees. Still, she unsheaths her dagger and begins to cut into the pine. 

It’s soon after that Aura Whisper flickers away, and she loses sight of her daughter again. She groans in frustration as she cuts into a small clearing, hands, and arms impaled with pine needles and sticky with sap. She whirls around, attempting to acclimate herself. The clearing is shrouded, nearly completely dark. Was it not then just noon? As she slices another thick swath of needles away, a thickening fog settles amongst the trees. Were she not to know any better, she would assume it were late evening, minutes after sundown, the last cries of orange torn from the sky. A sense of urgency beats at her back. 

“Laas-Yah-Nir,” She whispers, but the forest comes back dead. For an acre on each side of her, nothing is alive. The urgency turns to panic, nausea overwhelming her, making her dizzy.  

“Amia? Baby?” Dovey cries. She wants to scream in frustration at the hopelessness of the act. She settles for a Fus-Ro-Dah and shouts with all her might -- hoping the sheer volume will reach her little ears. Her efforts are only met with the collapse of the tree before her, creaking as it falls with a boom to the forest floor. It almost seems mocking. If a tree falls in the woods, no one hears it. 

When the great thrush of displaced leaves settles down, she is met with the sight of an elk gnawing, unbothered by her destruction, on a pinecone.

What possesses her to approach the antlered creature is unclear, but so she does, slowly, a trembling hand outstretched. The presence of the elk provides a momentary ease from her anxiousness. So this forest had not stilled after all. As if to solidify its image before her, she reaches out across the still-shivering tree leaves to stroke the fluffy fur about its neck. 

It does not scatter at her touch as expected but lifts its head above the branches. The elk’s eyes are of an inkiness she’d never encountered in a living creature. The thought strikes her then, enraptured in its strangeness, that Aura Whisper had not revealed this Elk to her. The realization makes her quickly uncomfortable, her knuckles going white on the dagger. It tilts its head, and in a graveled tone, as if spoken between episodic choking:

“This is the bad place.” 

Dovey has stared into the eyes of the World-Eater. She has met the slick cast eye of Daedra with steel. She has borne the vile gaze of many men upon her form, and yet, as the Elk stands with great effort upon its hindlegs, its intention trained upon her, she has never quite so badly wanted to be unseen. Its shadow looms over her, and its jaw moves slack, as if a hand were puppeteering its speech.  

“This is the bad place.”

“Where is my daughter?” She shouts in response, brandishing the dagger outwards to distract from the shake of her knees. The elk takes a hobbling step forward, and as it steps out from behind the tree, Dove feels her lunch rise in her throat. Where soft brown fur had been only a moment before was now a splay of organs, ribs sawed open, lungs inflating and deflating upon the creature’s skinned chest. The belly has been gored, the furls of intestine still unraveling and sitting awkward and bulky below its lacerated liver, as if they had been removed and restuffed in haste. With each step forward its hoofs squish the grisly rope, the tension serving to unravel more of itself.  

There’s no pause. She runs, trying to block out the sounds of hooves moving ever faster behind her, the sound of guts squelching and splattering to the ground. Her hands go to her ears, pine needles cutting her skin bloody as she desperately searches for any indication of a path out. 

“Dove,” 

It knows her name. It knows her name. She hears its whispers as if it were right behind her, hot breath against her ear. 

“You can’t keep her safe forever.”

The phrase sends her tumbling to her knees, skinning them bloodied in the stony dirt. Hoof steps slow and stop behind her as she bends down in a sob, pressing her elbows tightly against her ears. The creature makes a deathly noise behind her, the sound of someone gargling stones. 

“How very Dove Katherine. Always pushing forward,” it whispers. She feels the cold keratin of hooves on her spine, the wet of its gore dripping on her neck. “If you’d only take a moment to look back.”

She hears the body of the elk collapse behind her, a stinking sick mess of decimated organs splattering against her back. Dread unlike anything she’s ever felt clasps itself around her heart. She bends down in reverence, trembling hands palming the ground, and prays to Akatosh. When she feels the gore begin to seep through her dress, she swallows her fear and turns. 

Amia swings slowly back and forth from a tree branch behind her, one tiny eye hanging from the socket, tongue lolled out, little hands cold and limp at her sides. A thick noose cut from the elk’s intestines adorns her neck. Dove can’t find the words to speak, only deep, guttural screams leaving her throat as she sobs. The forest trembles with the power, trees around her felling as she weeps.

Through spotty vision she scrambles to pull her daughter’s body from the noose, breaking the gore in two as she collapses on top of her baby, touching her cool skin delicately. With tears dripping onto her daughter’s freckled cheeks she gently pushes her eye back into the socket, closes her mouth, readjusts her hair. 

“Baby, my baby…” She sobs, her voice going hoarse as she grasps at Amia’s small, freezing body, embracing it as if enough love might bring it back to life. 

It was only in recent years that Amia had gotten big enough to give and return hugs, and ever since then, she couldn’t be stopped. Agmaer once had to hobble around the fort with a little hitchhiker hugging his leg; he didn’t have the heart to peel her off. 

Mommy She had signed one day, wiggling her fingers, her thumb against her chin. When hug you, you can’t see love you.

Dove had laughed and kissed her nose. I know you love me. I love you. That what hugs for. 

Amia had shook her head decidedly, crossing her arms. It was an attitude habit she’d picked up from Isran, one that always made Serana grin. She’d sighed and pulled the little girl into her lap, hugging her tightly, and tapped five fingers one-by-one on her back, each tap earning a giggle. 

Like that, she’d signed as she pulled away. Five taps means love you.

As she holds Amia’s corpse in her arms, five small fingers tap slowly down her back. 

She’s paralyzed. Amia stares back at her, eyes dead, lips blue, but moving. Slowly, she lifts her mother’s hand and closes it around something. Dove draws her eyes away for only a moment as she stares at her daughter’s last gift. 

In her palm lay the still-twitching remnants of a spider. 

[balshumetsbaragouin]

Daily Excerpt: Passion

Chapter ten is right around the corner! Things are chugging along for this fic, and soon we'll hit the halfway point. To that end, have a bit from Chapter Twelve: An Excursion and Revelatory Rendezvous!

I'll see you all Wednesday for chapter 10!

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

Mreepow? A familiar voice called out to him from behind a rock, sounding sweet and playful. 

“Oh, hey, it’s you!” He called into the green expanse of the Zone’s sky as the electric eel slithered to the other side of a boulder. Its usual dark green stripes contained a dusting of gold, a dim stunning sparkle that stood out more in the omnipresent electric green of their surroundings. “Wait a second, why are you that color? Did you sneak out again?” He flew closer, petting along the sides of the eel, feeling its ecto-signature. Sparks of energy answered his call, jumping between the eel’s wiggling sides and his palm. 

The scent of hot copper, the flavor of ozone on his tongue, the howl of the wind in his ears, claws of pelting rain against his skin. He wrapped around suspended moisture and twisted through the darkened sky. “You definitely had some electronic snacks.”

Mmmerp? Its call lilted up at the end, sounding like the chirp of a baby bird, as it flashed its beady eyes at him. It licked at his hand, before curling up his arm to his shoulder.

“That innocent act isn’t gonna work on me, you goofball. You feel like a thunderstorm.” Danny rubbed the top of its head, pressing flecks of energy down the length of his fingers with his strokes. He sent back the thought of his parents’ disapproving frowns and disappointed glares about his last failed test. “You know better. That human world electricity can’t be good for you.” The taste of his favorite ice cream and the feeling of a sugar rush answered him. “You can’t eat dessert all the time.” He tried sending back the image of his third grade teacher scolding him, as he gripped his tummy on the ground, knocked over by the pain from his binge on all his Halloween candy at lunch. 

The trill that answered him descended in pitch, and he caught a flash of himself promising to do better after flunking another quiz last year. “Ok, I’m sure you’ll try.” The eel settled on his shoulders, seemingly content to stay there. “You wanna hang out?” It butted its head against his own, letting out a happy purr and a trickle of energy that sounded like playground laughter. “I’m not sure how fun it’ll be, but you can come along.”

[sagendipity]

the law of attraction: de minimis

a quackity x reader law school au

part one, chapter one

[PREV] | [NEXT]

.

The first myth about law school is that everyone is the same.

In movies, in TV shows, in books- everyone in law school is a certain type of person. Dangerously smart, hardworking to a fault, and absolutely cutthroat.

Now, that is true. To get this far, to get into a competitive law school and make it to your final year, you have to be all of the above. Smart, hardworking, and just a little cunning. It’s impossible to get a leg up unless you’re standing on someone else’s knee.

Or neck.

However, the fact that everyone here has to have a certain few traits in order to survive does not mean that they cannot have other traits.

Some are louder, exuberant, and competitive- the type to yell out the answer to a question before raising their hand, the type to go back and forth with the professor when they’re sure they’re right (and they’re not). There’s the introverts, the sly ones you never see coming, who you barely notice next to you all year until you glance over at the grade on their final and it’s a 110%, somehow.

Of course, there’s also the in-between. The respectable ones, the students that are just there to get through the classes they need and get a respectable job at a respectable law firm and make something nice out of their lives.

Or the hero type, the ones that are convinced they can fix any injustice they perceive in the world- the environmental lawyers, the criminal defense lawyers, the civil rights lawyers. They might be right, too, which is why it seems like a never-ending flow of them are pouring into the school at each orientation.

It’s not always as simple as that, of course. You, like many students, are a mix of a few types. You lie somewhere between the exuberant and introverted sides, not shy about answering questions in lectures, but not jumping the gun to cause discourse, either. A bit of a hero type, you must admit, but you do pride yourself on being reasonable when it comes to your life’s expectations. You don’t expect to become some William Kunstler. You work hard, you get shit done, and like law school has a tendency to do, it seems to become your whole entire life.

The type of person you never quite got a read on is Alex.

He’s been sitting next to you in your upper level criminal procedure class for the entire semester. A whole semester’s worth of lectures means you have plenty of time to observe and analyze the people in your classes- its not like there’s anything else to do when the professor is going over voir dire for the third hour that week.

You pegged the kid in the third row as a die-hard businessman. He’s not going into law to help people, he’s going into law to make the most profit off of the most vulnerable clients he can find. The girl in row six, however, is definitely the hero type, judging by her “save the oceans” stickers on her giant re-usable coffee cups.

Alex, though, you can’t read. He dresses down compared to the other students. They dress up to hide their shortcomings, like their fancy coats can stop them from feeling bad about their less-than-adequate qualifications for the internship they just applied for. Others just like to lean into the New York City aesthetic and dress like they’re already lawyers, even despite failing their last midterm. You fall into that category- you can’t help it, it’s a fun look- but hey, you definitely didn’t fail your midterm, and you’ve lived in New York your whole life, so you think you have the right to dress like that.

Alex dresses like he has nothing to hide. He dresses like the young, high-level professor who is always cracked out on Redbull and hasn’t graded a paper in his life; like the cute, fascinating barista at the local hipster coffee shop you can barely afford. He dresses like that one guy you’d see on the subway one day and never manage to forget because of how his eyes met yours for a split second.

To be fair, that is kind of how it’s gone. It’s not exactly like the two of you met on the subway, and you’ve definitely interacted more than just a passing glance, but goddammit is Alex stuck in your head.

You convince yourself it’s just because he’s such a mystery. It’s not because he has really sweet brown eyes, or the most charming, unruly hair you’ve seen this side of the Midwest. It’s not because he whispers a joke under his breath whenever your professor says something stupid, or because he bumps your ankles together and shares an amused glance with you when that one really annoying kid pipes up with an opinion no one wanted.

It’s just because you don’t know why he’s here, and you don’t know what he wants, and you don’t know how to read him.

It bugs you. It gets under your skin- not like an itch, more like a hum. He’s on the back of your mind constantly, like you’re trying to subconsciously figure out what’s up with him, but to this day you’ve had no success.

It’s not like you think about anything substantial in regards to him- every time your traitorous brain brings him up, you put it down quicker than it came up. Getting attached to people is dangerous in the best of circumstances, but getting attached to the absolute enigma of a guy in your criminal procedure class who you can’t even confidently say is named Alex would be equivalent to signing up for heartbreak.

“Don’t date law boys,” your roommate had lamented after she had done just that, laid across her rose-pink bedspread with a sleeve of crackers clutched in one hand and a tissue in the other. She had then blown her nose unattractively. “Lawyers have a reputation for being soulless for a reason. They’re only here for themselves. Fuck them.”

Despite that, you find yourself friends with Alex. As if you’d be able to resist the self-satisfied grins he flashes at you when the professor praises him for a particularly poignant answer, or the way he holds his hand out under the table for a high-five after you nail the answer to a cold call. You barely know anything about him, and yet, you know enough to decide he’s a good person.

“Alex”, whose name you’re only about 80% sure of- maybe it’s short for Alexander, but you thought you’d heard someone he was on the phone with call him Q, so maybe he’s a Quinn or a Quentin?

“Alex”, who shows up looking more comfortable than you’ve been in your entire life, and still manages to hold an air of confidence around him that you’d not be able to master even in your finest long coat and shirt.

“Alex”, who seems determined to wiggle his way into your heart in any way he can.

“Alex”, who you seem to be powerless to resist.

.

This growing attachment to Alex of yours is only strengthened with each lecture. You share this class three times a week, two hours each on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It’s a focus class, meaning that anyone who wants to go into criminal work should take this course. It’s challenging, it’s competitive, and it’s cutthroat.

And it’s only February.

A cold Monday morning in February, in fact, with the clock above your professor’s desk ticking obnoxiously as the big hand nears the 8. Outside, it’s downright miserable: windy and foggy. The outside of the paneled windows of the classroom are glazed in a sticky frost, reducing the figures of passing students to dull blobs as they hurry through the whipping wind to get to their classes.

The big doors at the back of the classroom close with a bang that reverberates throughout the lecture hall, cutting through the murmuring chatter of the students who are already here. Out of the corner of your eye you catch a flash of green- as you suspect, it’s Alex. He always takes the seat on the very end of the row, and you the one immediately to his right. You look up at him with what you hope is a casual smile, but the one he returns is so bright it could probably melt the frost off of the windows.

“Hey!” he says, too awake for 8 in the morning, and sets his binder down on the desk with a clatter. The whoosh of air rustles the paper of your notebook, which you smooth back down habitually. You watch Alex longer than you should, only tearing your gaze away after you notice the smattering of tiny snowflakes that have gathered atop the beanie he’s wearing.

You stifle a little laugh. This guy wears a beanie to law school.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he settles into his seat. He shrugs off his hunter green jacket, leaving him in just a gray hoodie, dotted with darker spots from melting snowflakes that’d been blown into him. He drops his outer jacket across his lap just as the room goes silent, your professor walking up to his desk.

As the last tails of conversations die off, you turn to Alex, unable to help yourself, “You have… snowflakes, on your head.”

He glances at you, a little huff of laughter escaping him as he brings up a hand to smooth over the beanie. The snowflakes are swiped off, melting on the heat of his hand- you wonder how it would feel held in yours, probably warm, he looks like he runs hot- and you pry your eyes away as he straightens out his beanie and tucks his hair up into the brim of it. He misses a strand, and the black swoop stands out sharply against the frost-paled skin of his face.

“Happy February,” your professor begins, his microphone crackling to life. “The month of love, is it not? Just two weeks until Valentines day.”

He swings his bag up onto the stool next to him, the sound echoing through the microphone. He turns to face the lecture hall, arms spread as if welcoming you all to a talk show.

“I’m about to ruin all of your Valentines Day plans. Welcome to the start of your final project: the mock trial.”

.

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Pact - Date #6

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 5.7k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: reader is confused about feelings, so that’s frustrating lol. the boys are annoyingly perfect as per usual. other than that, fluffy as always.

a/n: HAHA. well, ngl, this date came for me. pls nobody kill me after reading this lol. as always, your feedback is encouraged and GREATLY appreciated. please let me know your thoughts! also, we are getting down to it! only one more date to go!! so exciting!

also, an official copy of the Pact will be up on Wednesday! so you’ll get two updates next week!! enjoy! 

Date #6

series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist

You’ve been staring at this thing for way too long.

You can already feel the hint of a headache creeping behind your eyes, and it’s enough to have you setting the copy of The Pact that you stole from Jin down on the coffee table. Groaning as you clamber to your feet, you take a long moment to stretch and fight off the exhaustion that’s attempting to settle over you.

Tired mind somehow managing to continue limping on in its endless speculation, you yourself limp over to the kitchen. Staring at the kitchen sink with a few dirty dishes waiting, you consider splashing some water on your face.

Glancing up at your reflection in the window that’s just above the sink, you decide against it. Not when you’ve just managed to get completely ready for this date.

Your date should be here in about an hour, leaving you with too much time to sit and think. With a sigh, you begin to fill up one side of the sink with hot soapy water, deciding to do something productive with your time while you wait.

The soap bubbles that grow before your eyes has your mind wandering off again. This time, it’s remembering last week and a similar soapy view. However, you’d been side by side with Seokjin. And that song had been playing in the background…

“What are you daydreaming about?”

You shriek, dropping a plate in the sink and facing the onslaught of sloshing dishwater and stray soap bubbles.

Jeon Jungkook resembles a caught crook outside the kitchen window. You consider breaking a plate over his head, especially as his typical wide eyed gaze has been replaced with a knowing smirk.

“Just thinking about throwing something at your head,” you sigh. Pulling the plug on the drain, you watch as the soapy water disappears. Hopefully it takes any evidence of your thoughts with it, but you have a feeling that your reddened cheeks have already given you away. “Why are you creeping outside my window?”

Jungkook’s golden laughter makes the corners of your mouth turn up. “Ah, I tried to knock. I don’t think you heard me, though.”

You blink. “Oh.” Has it already been an hour?

Did you just spend an hour washing the same plate while daydreaming?

“Oh is right. Now, are you gonna let me in?”

Wiping your hands on a dish towel, it’s one with stitched stars on it that Yoongi gifted you a couple of years ago, you hurry over to open the door. The second you do, Jungkook is stepping inside and locking you in a bear hug. Your squeal is muffled as you’re buried in his embrace, but you can’t quite find it in yourself to complain.

He smells like vanilla.

“Happy Saturday,” you stammer out. From where your head is pressed up against Jungkook’s chest, you can hear how his heart is hammering against his ribs.

Taking a step back to see what’s wrong, you frown as he looks at you with a fairly calm expression. There’s a hint of nervousness in his eyes which you’re sure is mirrored in your own.

“Happy Saturday to you, too. Ready?”

No, not really. Not since you’ve been planted at the sink, little beads of sweat forming due to the steaming water.

“Give me five minutes to freshen up?” You ask with an apologetic smile. Jungkook waves you off, pulling up the sleeves of his black, long-sleeve shirt and heading toward the kitchen.

“Sure, take your time. We don’t have a strict schedule tonight.”

Without waiting to see what he intends to do in your kitchen (pilfer snacks being the most likely course of action), you hurry to your bedroom.

There are hints of them everywhere you look.

One of the flowers from Jin’s bouquet is hanging upside down to dry above your dresser. You felt a bit like a teen doing that, but a small piece of you wanted to keep some sort of memory of last week’s date.

Jimin’s music box sits beside the books you bought with Namjoon. You’ve found that listening to the music box while reading is quickly becoming a habit of yours.

Of course, that means you snack on the walnuts that Taehyung left for you while reading. You hadn’t even realized that he left them until this past week. They’d been hiding in your cupboard, and you’d taken quite a liking to them. Either that, or the small sticky note that was attached to the bag.

A single heart traced in bold lines and scribbles.

Slipping on Hobi’s bracelet has become like second nature, making you smile as you twist it around the face the right way.

“Ok,” you breathe out with a glance toward the mirror. You smooth out your hair, straightening your blouse and black jeans. “Here we go.”

Of course, you can’t forget the biggest reminder of the boys.

The copy of the pact that you stole from Jin last week, currently atop your dresser-

“Oh no,” you breathe out as soon as you remember that the pact is not where it’s supposed to be.

You’d taken it out earlier for some light perusing, and had left it out on the coffee table. As far as you knew, none of the boys were aware of your thievery. Yet.

Sneaking out of your room and tiptoeing down the hall, you hear Jungkook humming to himself in the kitchen. Trying to remain as quiet as possible, you make a beeline for the front room.

You let out a sigh of relief when the pact is still undisturbed on the table. Swooping down to grab it, you turn on your heel and-

“AH!!!”

“Ah!” Jungkook yells back, towering over you.

“Why would you-” you hit one shoulder “sneak up-” you assault the other “on me like that?!”

Jungkook grabs your wrist, nose scrunching up as he looks at you like you’re some sweet woodland animal and not a crazy woman.

“Why so jumpy today?” He croons, doing his best to get under your skin. Then he frowns, releasing your wrist in exchange for stepping a little closer. “Is everything ok?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, gripping the pact in your free hand behind your back. “I just have to put something away and then we’re good to go, ok?”

He assesses you for another minute before stepping aside. “Sounds good.”

Rushing to your room and closing the door, you rest against it for a moment and close your eyes. So far, so good. Right?

Stuffing the pact into a drawer in your dresser, you grab your things and double check yourself in the mirror.

Why are you so jumpy today?

Perhaps the fact that all of this is coming to an end very soon is what has you on edge. The fact that Jungkook is here means that there’s only one date left.

And then what?

It’s a question you don’t know how to answer. And yet, you’re the only one that can.

Taking a steadying breath, you salute your reflection and head out.

Jungkook waits for you by the door, looking…well, looking like Jungkook. Black shirt, drawstring army green pants, thick boots. His hair looks a little windblown, which you know has become a recent sort of addiction for him. The thought of him driving with the windows down makes you grin. No doubt he looked like some sort of excited puppy with his hair flying in the wind.

Jungkook, unaware of you train of thought, just grins back.

“You look great,” he mumbles out, a tinge of pink giving him away. For all of your antics that you have a tendency to get into, you sometimes forget that Jungkook is one of the shyest out of all the boys.

“So do you,” you respond. Turning before you can spot the smile on his face, Jungkook opens up the door and escorts you outside. “What’s on the agenda for tonight?”

“Well, that depends,” Jungkook skips down the steps, shoving his hands in his pockets. He reaches the car before you, pulling the passenger side door open. “What do you wanna do?”

You pause before sliding into the car, noting that it’s the same one you took with Namjoon. It’s an SUV, much more spacious than the smaller cars you drove in with Hobi or Tae. “What do you mean?”

Shrugging, Jungkook heads over to the other side of the car before hopping in. You finally get in as well, looking at the boy quizzically. He fiddles with the keys, glancing over at you before resting his hands atop the steering wheel.

“This is your sixth date,” he muses. “I figured that this might be nice, for a change. You say the word, and I’ll take you wherever you wanna go. We have…” he squint at the clock, which reads seven o’clock. “Approximately five hours.”

“Huh.” You lean back against your seat, staring out at the road with a dumbfounded expression. “Really? Did you just not plan anything?”

Jungkook looks offended. “Of course I did! I have a backup plan if you can’t come up with anything. I don’t know…I just thought it might be nice. Let’s go do whatever you want.”

The gears in your mind begin to turn and you’re half tempted to just go with whatever Jungkook has as his backup plan, until you remember something.

“You mean it?” You ask, wiggling your brows at Jungkook. “Whatever I want?”

Jungkook stares in disbelief at the rundown building, a smile fighting its way onto his cheeks. “This? This is what you wanted?”

He must have thought that you’d choose something a bit more daring than this. However, you nod happily, slipping out of your seat and wandering over to his side of the car. He still remains inside, looking at the building with absolute confusion. With a sly grin, you open up his door and gesture for him to exit.

“C’mon, let’s eat.”

Together you make your way inside the open air restaurant, taking in the sight and smells. You wave at the worker behind the front counter, who grins and waves back at you.

Taking a seat in the far corner at a plastic chair and table, you can’t help but laugh at the awestruck expression on Jungkook’s face. The lighting inside is poor, it doesn’t quite reach your corner of the room. However, just enough of it reaches Jungkook to highlight the shadows on his face and occasionally catch on his eyes.

“This place has the best lamb skewers,” you explain. “I haven’t come out in a long time.”

Jungkook’s expression melts into one of adoration as he looks at you, and you wonder if he realizes it. “I love lamb skewers.”

“I know.”

When you’re ready, you call out your order to a passing worker. They nod, rushing to the back to pass it on. A few people are scattered throughout the restaurant, most of which are too enraptured by their food or their friends to pay any attention to you two. Jungkook blends right in, except for his giant boots that set him apart. Hopefully nobody will pay them any mind.

Settled across the table from Jungkook, you let out a sigh of relief.

“What?” Jungkook immediately asks, ever the intuitive one. “Are you sure everything’s alright? Maybe I should’ve come up with something fun to do instead of make you choose-”

You hold up a hand, waving him off. “No, I’m happy. This is…nice.”

Jungkook blinks, and suddenly you’re reminded of a date you went on in middle school. He somehow manages to revive those same butterflies when he looks at you like that.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you reassure. “Although I am a little surprised that you aren’t the final date. Didn’t you decide the order?”

“Ah,” Jungkook leans back, forgetting that he’s sitting on a stool. He nearly topples over, making you lurch forward and grab his hand. “Uh, thank you,” he mutters as he sits up straight.

“Careful,” you quietly chide, going to sit back down. You attempt to take your hand out of his grasp, but Jungkook latches on. Intertwining his fingers through yours, he gives you a soft smile which has you relaxing in his grasp.

Resting your hands in the center of the table, Jungkook speaks up again. “Anyways, yeah. The order. I was planning on going last, but then the thing that Yoongi has planned didn’t work out for any other weekend. So we swapped.” He takes up tracing the outline of your knuckles, resting his chin in the palm of his free hand.

“I see.” The way that the shadows are playing with Jungkook’s features has you remembering a different time when you two were stuck a in dark room. “So…uh…” you try to come up with something else to say in order to fight off the memory of Jungkook’s arms around you.

You suppose that’s when it all started. And that’s traitorous question which had popped up into your mind in the haunted house, when you wondered if Jungkook was about to kiss you.

And you wondered if you’d let him.

Sitting across from him now and seeing how his eyes widen with excitement as your food is placed before you, you try and fail to fight off a similar question. One that’s been plaguing you for weeks now.

“These’re ‘mazing,” Jungkook coos as he takes another bite of the lamb skewer. “Why haven’t you told me about this place before?”

Chuckling at his reaction, you grab his wrist and angle the skewer toward you. Leaning forward, you take a bite of the food and watch as Jungkook visibly swallows.

You shrug. “It didn’t seem like something worth sharing at the time.”

“Mmm,” Jungkook appears to be scolding you, but the words aren’t quite coming out as food keeps going in. “Mm-mmhmm.”

You burst out laughing at his impressive performance, leaning back and-

Thwack!

Stool slipping out from under you, you collapse onto the ground in a fit of laughter. Jungkook throws his food down, jumping up to his feet and looking concerned until he sees that you’re still laughing. Shaking his head, he extends his hand and helps you back to your feet.

“It’s gonna be a miracle if we make it out of this place without a concussion.”

You wipe fake tears from your eyes, settling back down on your chair. “Promise me you’ll pay for my hospital bills?”

“I’ll consider it.”

When you gasp in offense, he points to the food. “Hey! It’s not my fault that you were keeping vital information from me! That really threw a wrench in my trust for you!”

“This is what you consider vital information?”

“Hey, don’t judge me.”

“I’m just saying…it’s a little concerning.”

“Don’t we tell each other everything?” Jungkook shoots back with pleading eyes. To an outsider, it looks like a typical lover’s quarrel. Little do they know, you’re bickering about lamb skewers.

You shoot him a pointed look. “Oh-ho, you really wanna talk about sharing everything? Need I mention a certain pact-”

“No, you do not.”

“Hmph.” You cross your arms. “That’s what I thought.”

“In my defense, I did tell you. Eventually.” From the way he begins chewing on his lips you can tell that he’s remembering the circumstances in which he told you about the pact.

However, it’s the way his eyes dart down to your mouth that have you recalling a feeling of unfinished business with Jungkook. You’re not quite sure what it is, but it’s there.

“After two years.”

He points a finger at you. “Hey, two and a half- oh, wait.”

“That didn’t help.”

“No yeah, I see that now.”

You snort, grabbing some food. It’s all too easy to slip back into your familiar banter with Jungkook. You’ve missed it.

Jungkook looks a little lost in his thoughts as he munches on his lamb skewer, a pout forming on his face. You nudge his knee under the table, shooting him a questioning look.

“What’s up?” You ask quietly.

He resumes chewing on the inside of his cheek, staring down at his food like he’s about to interrogate it. “Do you regret it?”

You’re not exactly sure what he’s referring to, but either way it leaves a knot in your stomach. “Regret what, Guk?”

Jungkook shrugs, his pout only growing. “Finding out about it? Agreeing to all this?”

Setting your food down, you ponder for a moment over the past six weeks. Perhaps a small part of you does regret knowing. However, it’s more for the fact that you know things can’t return to normal. Not after all you’ve experienced. Not after the way certain people have managed to lodge themselves into your heart more than you’d care to imagine.

“This,” you begin, and without thought you find yourself reaching across the table for Jungkook’s hand. He reads your thoughts, meeting you halfway. “Is the most terrifying thing I think I’ve ever done. It’s weird, and new, and frightening.”

Jungkook nods, seeming to have expected this. Before he can come to some silent understanding within his mind, you continue on.

“But I wouldn’t change it for the world. These last six weeks have been…” you shake your head, struggling to find the words.

How do you put this into words? Those small moments between breaths, the way you felt from the way some of the boys looked at you. How do you explain that you have never before felt so loved in your life? That despite the worries and improbability of it all, you would never change it for the world?

“…perfect.”

Blinking up at you, Jungkook looks a little shocked. “Perfect?”

“I’m glad you told me,” you admit, voice coming out a nothing more than a whisper. “I hope you don’t regret it.”

Jungkook’s eyes trail down to where your hands are interlocked. “I’m glad I told you, too.”

You feel so warm, sitting here. The food is half gone, the restaurant is loud and busy. Jungkook keeps one hand in yours as he takes up his skewer again, making sure to give you a bite every once in a while.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice the rain that begins to fall. It drizzles at first, however when a clash of lightning strikes, you jolt. Jungkook squeezes your hand.

“Eat up,” he mumbles. “What do you wanna do after this?”

The rainfall seems to quell your thoughts, finally silencing them as you focus entirely on Jungkook. “I’m not sure…how about you choose? I already chose the food.”

Jungkook harrumphs his agreement, jumping up to go pay while you finish off the remaining food. It’s utterly delicious, even more so than you remember. Truly, your love of food knows no bounds.

You snort at yourself, probably looking like an idiot but enjoying your own company. Jungkook wanders back over, a half-smile already on his face at your state.

“What’s so funny?”

You shake your head, pointing to the platters of food. “I swear, I’m just using you guys so I can eat whatever I want. It’s amazing.”

Jungkook lets out a startled laugh. “I can’t believe you. Using us like that.” There’s no bite in his words, which only makes it all so much better. “C’mon, we’ll have to hurry to the car. It’s pouring out there.”

Indeed it is. Together the two of you sprint toward the car, cursing the fact that you didn’t have to foresight to at least bring a jacket. Instead you fend off the rain by throwing your hands over your head, heart melting a bit when you feel Jungkook trying his best to lean over you to take the brunt of the attack.

Once you’ve leapt inside the car it’s only a matter of seconds before Jungkook is on the other side. He shakes out his hair as he starts up the car, making you shout in protest.

Naturally, he does it a bit more.

“Yah!” You shout. “I surrender!”

This seems to sate him, making him smile at you mischievously. “Good.” Pulling out onto the road, he takes off toward an unknown destination. “Sit tight, we’ll be there in a bit.”

It doesn’t take long to get there. It’s a little difficult to tell where you are exactly due to the heavy rain, but you can just make out a pond and grove of trees beyond the downpour.

“Stay right here,” Jungkook instructs before diving out of the car.

Like, literally dives. You’re fairly certain he goes headfirst, making you burst out into peals of laughter. He reappears a second later, already drenched while he begins to lay the seats down. You’re dying to ask what he’s doing, but you’re not sure if he would be able to hear you as heavy raindrops thud against the roof.

Once he’s managed to get all of the seats down, he makes his way to the trunk. He glances up to where you watch from the front seat, a look of determination shining in his eyes.

“Close your eyes,” he orders. It’s hard to hear him, but it’s easy enough to read his lips. They’re glistening with raindrops, which he hasn’t bothered to lick off yet-

Er, it’s not like you were staring. Nah. No. Nothing like that. Just happened to notice them.

Yeah. That’s what it was.

Despite your curiosity, you turn around to face the front and close your eyes. It’s hard to tell what’s going on behind you, but you occasionally catch the sound of Jungkook crawling around.

It feels like an eternity later when Jungkook opens up your door, making you jump at the sudden onslaught of rain. He grins at you from behind his soaked hair, extending his hand.

“Hurry!”

Jumping out of the car, you chase after Jungkook who keeps a firm grip on your hand. He leads you around to the back of the car, where he hurries to open up the trunk.

You hardly have time to take in the sight the unfolds before your eyes before Jungkook wrapping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into the car. You push your hair out of your eyes, about to crawl forward when a hand on your ankle stops you.

“Shoes!” Jungkook shouts, apparently past the point of speaking in full sentences. Turning around to sit down properly, you get to work on one of your sneakers while Jungkook takes the other. Once they’re off, you crawl up to the front to toss them onto the floor.

Once they’re safely stowed away, you turn around and take a look at the back of the car.

Somehow, in the span of just a couple of minutes, Jungkook has transformed the back of the car into an impromptu paradise.

As he clambers in and brushes past you to toss his shoes up front, you gape. A couple of pillows are propped up on the edges of the car, looking like clouds amidst the sea of the comforter. The blanket itself is soft to the touch, and you spot another blanket folded in the corner. Hanging from the latches on the ceiling are battery powered string lights, dowsing you in a fairy-like dreamland.

The hatch remains open, providing a breathtaking view. Sure enough, there’s a pond. Just beyond the bond stands a grove of tall trees, hardly wavering in the rain. The entire view is nothing short of ethereal. It’s enough to leave you wondering for a moment if you’ve unintentionally wandered into some strange remake of A Midsummer Night’s Dream because you’ve become that there’s no way magic doesn’t exist.

And there’s Jungkook, sitting across from you with a timid smile while he delves into one of his many pockets in his cargo pants. A second later he produces a deck of cards, tossing them between you where they land softly on the thick comforter.

“This,” he says a touch breathlessly, “was my backup plan.”

There are no words left in your brain to describe this moment. The way water droplets drip from the long strands of Jungkook’s hair has you mesmerized, and you force yourself to reach out for that deck of cards and slide them from the box.

“This,” you stammer out, “is the best backup plan ever.”

Jungkook is radiant as his smile grows, nose scrunching up and a soft chuckle leaving those lips. “Thanks.”

You’re not sure how long you’re in the back of the car, playing Egyptian Ratscrew until tears are running from your eyes as you laugh and squeal. Jungkook inevitably wins, probably due to your vision being impaired by said tears. Eventually you decline a 33rd round (he says that it’s only the eleventh but your throbbing hands say it’s definitely the 33rd) in favor of laying out and watching the rain.

Jungkook joins you where you sprawl out on your stomach, watching the ripples in the pond as the rain continues. It’s let up a bit more now, but the sound of rain on the roof is enough to lull you into a tired trance.

Leaning into your side, Jungkook loops his arm through yours until his hand is resting on your own. You automatically rest your head against his shoulder, letting out a content sigh.

“Your hands are so red,” Jungkook whispers. You snort, examining your abused hands.

“Yeah, I told you that you slap hard,” you whisper back furiously. Jungkook chuckles, making you shake along with him.

“Don’t act all innocent. You about killed me,” he replies, showing off his reddened hands. “I forgot how brutal that game is.”

“Me too. But it’s so fun.”

“Mmm.”

“I mean, when else do I get a free pass to slap you?”

Now Jungkook laughs in earnest, the sound going straight to your heart. “You’re ruthless.”

“Hey, you’re the one that has a thing for ruthless women.”

“Touché.”

Soon the rhythm of the rain fades into the background as Jungkook takes up a melody, humming softly. Your eyes drift shut, taking in the sound.

It would be so easy to stay here forever. The blanket is so soft, Jungkook is so sweet, the view so perfect.

Your lips form the words before you completely comprehend what’s going on. “…wanna stay here.”

“Hmm?” Jungkook asks, his voice coming from above you. He shifts, arm resting along your back and wrapping around your waist. “What’d you say, jagiya?”

“I wanna stay.”

“We can stay a little longer,” he reassures gently. You shake your head, nuzzling deeper into his side.

“Forever, though.”

“You wanna stay forever?”

“Mhmm.”

Jungkook brushes a hand through your hair before running a finger along your jawline. “Back here, with me? And the blankets?”

You hum in agreement. “And the lights and the rain.”

He lets out a breathy laugh. “It can’t rain forever, jagiya.”

“Why not?” Your brain isn’t completely coherent at the moment, but you don’t try to stop it.

“We’d float away.”

“Oh.”

“Ok?”

“Mm.”

Eventually the rain turns into a light drizzle and Jungkook deems it time to head back. It’s already late, but you find yourself wanting to bask in the soft glow that the string lights provide for just a moment longer.

Jungkook reassures you that he won’t put the seats back up yet, but that you need to head up front. Getting up and moving seems to kickstart your brain, and you’re much more awake when you settle into the front seat.

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, the radio quietly singing. You two sing along, and you stare out the window as you drive down the streets of Itaewon. You pass the spot you ate earlier, making you smile.

All too soon, you’re turning onto your street. It’s enough to make you attempt sinking through the seat, but Jungkook parks the car and comes around to your side.

“Welcome home,” he mumbles as you slide out of the car. You turn your face up to the sky, allowing the light rain to wake you up a bit more.

“Thank you.”

Jungkook takes your hand in his as you head up the stairs to your apartment, and you wonder for a moment if that’s your racing pulse you feel or his own. It’s that question that has you racing back to reality.

The doorstep.

You reach your door, turning to face Jungkook. You haven’t even tried getting your keys out yet, the thought hasn’t crossed your mind. Instead, you stare up at Jungkook only to find him chewing on the inside of his cheek and staring down at the ground. He massages the back of his neck, looking for all the world like he’s forgotten how to speak.

“Thank you,” you repeat for the second time in less than a minute. “I really enjoyed it, Jungkook. I…” your words trail off as Jungkook takes a step forward, hands reaching around you to wrap around the railing of your porch.

“Do you ever wonder what might have happened…” Jungkook’s eyes snap up to yours, and they betray his next words as they drift to your lips. “If I had kissed you that night?”

A sound comes out of your throat, however you’re not sure if it was a half-formed word or simply a reaction to the way Jungkook nibbles on his bottom lip as he tilts his head to one side.

He takes another micro-step, effectively trapping you between him and the wrought iron railing. “Because I do. Every day.”

Again, that question comes flying back from the catacombs of your memory. Right now, you wonder if he’ll kiss you.

You wonder if you’d let him.

The fact that this question has been on your mind for so long makes you realize the answer to his question.

You’re not sure how you manage to speak as you feel Jungkook’s hands slide onto your waist, but you do. “Y-yes. I do.” Taking a deep breath you utter out, “Of course I do.”

Another step, a bit of rain slipping down the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’s stopped breathing, but you wonder if that’s only because you’re holding your breath.

He’s leaning down, eyes so focused on yours that you feel as though your soul has been laid out before him. Finally, once he’s mere millimeters away, he takes a shaky breath.

“Just once.”

You wonder if it was meant more for himself than for you, but you don’t have time to entertain the thought for long before he’s pressing forward.

The first touch of his lips against yours reminds you of the paradise you were in just minutes ago. His lips are soft – so soft – against yours, reminding you of resting on a cloud. His lips are hesitant, so unlike the iron-like grip he has on your hips.

Some part of your brain is screaming at you, although you’re unsure of why. What could the consequences of such a beautiful action be?

It’s beautiful enough to make you frown when Jungkook pulls away, the raindrops on his lips long gone as you taste them on your lips. He looks down at you sheepishly, taking a single step back.

“I- I…” he chokes the words out, looking like there might be an internal war going on in his head as well. For a moment, he wins. “One more,” he whispers, the words almost lost to the soft pitter patter of the rain.

He’s much faster this time, throwing caution to the wind as he closes in on you. One hand tangles itself in your hair, the other caressing your cheek as you sigh against his mouth. The kiss is a little sloppy, the force of it nearly making you stumble backward. You cling to his shirt in an effort to remain upright, attempting to somehow crawl closer despite your already close proximity.

One more quickly turns into two, then three. All you know is the feel of his lips against yours and the rain gently falling, having lost count a while ago.

Everything is Jungkook, Jungkook-

Completely unbidden, someone else floats into your train of thought.

You gasp as your thoughts take an unexpected turn, eyes flying open. The sight before you completely wrecks you.

Jungkook leans forward once more, hair a mess and cheeks rosy pink. There’s a dazed look in his eyes, and you realize that he must have assumed you just needed to breathe before falling into you again.

He leans in, quick to turn your thoughts toward him again. Soon it’s him, all him in your head.

And yet-

You stumble back as though struck by lightning, then jump in earnest as lightning does strike. Jungkook stares at you, but for a brief moment as his features are lit up by the lightning, all you can see is him.

What does that even mean?

“I- uh…” you’re practically panting, fighting with all you have to not reach out for Jungkook as he takes a step back. His eyes clear a bit, and you can already see the guilt festering in his eyes. You attempt a joke. “Aren’t you breaking rule #5?”

Jungkook blinks at you. “What? I…that was…a lot. I’m so sorry…rule five? What?”

“You know…the pact, rule five-” you throw a hand over your mouth, realizing that you may have said too much.

“How do you know that’s rule #5?” Jungkook asks, but you’re already pushing him off your porch and fumbling for your keys. “Wait, have you read-”

“Thanks again, Jungkook!” You shout over your shoulder, throwing your front door open. “And, er, I liked kissing you- wait, that’s not normal-”

Jungkook laughs, although still looking concerned. He frowns, and you do your best to avoid noting just how much pinker his lips look now. “I hope you’re ok-”

“Great! I’m great!”

You’re not. You’re a little frantic at the moment, but great.

With that, Jungkook waves goodbye and turns away, bidding you goodnight.

It’s a long time before you move out of the front room. Instead, you take up camp on your couch, staring off into the distance. Replaying, rewinding, reliving what just happened.

In the end, you’re more confused than when you began.

main masterlist

please let me know what your thoughts are! You don’t necessarily have to be rooting for one of the boys specifically, but let me know who you think has the best shot/who you really swooned over! ;) and yes, it’s ok to be confused. like, what the freak just happened. *nervous laughter*

I’ll see you guys WEDNESDAY with a copy of the pact for you to read as well as next Saturday for our final date! thank you for reading!

taglist is open, click on the link at the top of the post or let me know if you’d like to join!

taglist: @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine @hqtetsurou@protontippens​ @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton​@thecaffeinatedscribbles​ @moon-write​ @fangirl125reader​ @heishichoulevi​ @knjkitten​ @sacha-cff​ @vik7797​  @eusticenatalie​ @hesmyphenominiall​​ @miriamxsworld​ @kayahay​  @delacyrose224​  @luvtaeha​ @fanfictionreader05 @oknymz​​ @dreadity​  @starlight-night0​ @luzaroon​ @seaoffangirling​​ @prachi05 @fangirl125reader​ @bluehairedotakugem​ @hunnibxbe​ @kayahay​ @fanfictionreader05 @seokjinmoonfics​ @littletinyhobi​ @honeyhalcyon​​ @yoontaethings​​ @herrmionejgranger​  @beepbeep11​ @extraordinary_reads @hitsussi

[ketchupqueenboiiii]

Young Justice

A/N: Some cursing and poorly written fight scene. I will be making this a multichap fic, reposting it to its own work. Also name is a WIP.

@maribat-2k20

Whoosh.

Thump.

Clank-Clunk.

Repeat.

Happy Harbor doesn't make her very happy. But it doesn't make her that sad either. No different than New York City. But at least her Mama was there. The mother-daughter duo had made amends and Audrey invited Chloe to live with her in the city. It was nice, until Chloe got antsy. She itched to get out there and fight. But New York wasn't her turf and there were no bad guys to battle. Chloe also wasn't too keen on going to school in New York.

She was completely fine with video calling her Mari-bug, thank you very much. But even Mari saw that she needed to get back into the game.

"Bee, you can't have your only interaction being with your over-worked butler, your work-acholic mother, and your ex in Tibet." Mari's voice was hoarse from being out of breathe.

"You're just phrasing it weird. You're my best friend more than my ex. And Jean-Paul is not over-worked. He has off on Wednesdays and Sundays." Chloe responded flippantly and continued to file her nails on her sofa, which was placed right in front of the 85 inch flat screen mounted the wall of her room. She had linked her phone to the screen and webcam so she had a good view of her friend.

Mari gave her a unimpressed look while drying her head. She wore a pink sleeveless workout shirt with red flower designs sewn in and matching capris. She was also bald now. A guardian-in-training thing, Chloe was told when she first got the frantic call with the news. Her clothing choice was impressive since she lives in a temple in the mountains. Surrounded by snow.

"Chloe, you're lonely and you miss Sabrina. I can feel it from here." The pink clad girl said, before taking a sip from her matching water bottle.

"I'm not lonely, I have those trainers I practice with and I talk to Felix every now-" Chloe argued. But then was interrupted by her friend.

"You know, I think you should go to Happy Harbor, Rhode Island. And use Pollen and Stompp." She smiled as she cut off Chloe, tilting her head to the side with a content look on her face.

What. Chloe thought, head turning so fast to the screen she should have gotten whiplash.

"You should go. My instincts tell me that your gonna find something there. And as a Guardian-in-training, my instinct is usually right." Apparently Chloe said that thought out loud.

"Mari, I can't just leave. Mama has work in the city-" Chloe tried.

"Stop with the excuses, Chlo. Audrey has a headquarters in Happy Harbor, so she could just move her work there." Damn her preparedness and reasoning. Chloe stayed silent as she glared at her friend, even though it hasn't had an effect on Mari since they were ten-year-olds.

"And lucky for you, I already called Audrey to confirm it and she agrees that it's a good idea." Mari does a little dance, smirking with a wiggle of her shoulders and eyebrows. Fucking dammit, Mari-bug.

"I'll give it a chance." Chloe grumbles, a little peeved.

"Then get packing, honeybee, 'cause your leaving in three days."

Sometimes Chloe can't believe she still listens to her Bug's crazy plans.

~

Running across the roof tops in the middle of town. How inconspicuous. Was Mari trying to get her captured?

Now Chloe just felt stupid. She opened the screen of her top and prepared to arrange for another call with Mari when she felt a shift in the air. Someone was approaching, but she couldn't see anyone there. That wouldn't mean much though, since she had experience with invisible enemies.

Enemies, really? Even in death, you show her no respect. Sabrina should have-

Opponents. Invisible opponents. Chloe steadied her breath and banished the thoughts for another time. Faking ignorance, she tapped randomly on her top's screen.

The invisible entity came closer. And closer. Just a little closer. Almost within reach.

She grabbed a horn from her headset that doubled as a weapon and swung at the mysterious invisible person in one smooth motion. She grinned in satisfaction when she felt it hit something and heard it yelp in surprise. Or pain. Either was good.

Chloe looked over in time to see a green-skinned red-head girl lying on the ground, clearly disoriented by her surprise attack. Chloe's smile fell a bit when she envisioned a different red-head in her place, one much more familiar, thought only for a moment.

A memory of her faults and another thing that she lost.

She was quickly thrown out of her spiral when she saw two boys fall from out of a random place in the sky. Her instinct was to catch them and moved to do so before she saw the insignias on their chests.

"M'gann!" They yelled, probably because of the girl on the ground. Also, ever heard of code names?

Both boys wore a different emblem on their chests. After focusing on them, she recognized them to be the ones worn by the Superman and the Flash. So they must be their sidekick squad. The girl was probably Martian Manhunter's apprentice, since green skin and invisibility.

The boy with the Superman logo glared at her as a red and yellow blur came at her. The Flash's sidekick probably. And damn did whatever he did to her stomach sting.

Good thing she's an expert on stings. Her inner Adrikins was beside themselves laughing while every other part of her wanted to shake her head in exasperation.

Fighting a speedster was like fighting blind. Not something she particularly excelled at. All she could do was dodge as best as she could, which meant getting hit every eighth strike.

Chloe planted her feet and recalled everything Mari had told her during her probation and training period. Mari may not have been properly trained then, but she learned the ropes fast enough to teach everyone else;

"Every team's bound to have some variation of these core members. You need to be able to identify them. The heavy-hitter.

Probably Super-kid. For her, sometimes it was Adrien and others it was Rose using Stompp.

The strategist.

Redhead One or Redhead Two? Definitely not. Speedy over their just ran up to her and kept whooping her, it didn't seem like he had any other objective. And Mari, duh.

The one light on their feet.

Redhead Flash, obviously.

With the power of subjection, you must incapacitate the biggest threat. To you, the people, a team member, or the entire mission.

Looks like Redhead Flash is getting stung today. Serves him right, that hit was gonna bruise.

"Venom." She thinks, and thrusting her stinger-armed hand into where she predicted the boy would be. And she's right he comes to a complete stop, and, to her amusement, the momentum of his running caused him to face plant into the ground with a crack. His wrist probably, since a venom kept you from intentionally moving but allows movement by external forces.

Namely gravity and the concrete of the rooftop.

"Kid!" Exclaimed a young voice, probably from the figure falling from where the Redhead Flash and Super-kid fell from.

Super-kid helped up Redhead One and turned back to glare at Chloe again. She just smirked and armed herself with a top in her left hand and a horn in the other. To be honest, it look like an escrima stick.

A silent challenge hung in the air, each daring the other to move first. Though it actually gave her time to think up a plan. The most practical thing would be to jump off the side of the building, making it look like a retreat and then swing in to take him from behind. Yeah, that should work.

Chloe made a scene of contemplating fighting and running away, narrowing her eyes in thought. She ran to the edge of the roof top and jumped, briefly loosing herself to the nostalgia. Of the wind in her face and the adrenaline in her veins. It's been way too long since the last time she felt felt them.

She threw her top at the ledge of the roof, willing it to change into a grapple and swung her legs routinely. After doing this exact maneuver countless times before, she instinctively moved with just the right amount of force at just the right time. They used to call it the 'Mari Go Round', named after the girl who taught her the tact and the American nickname for a carrousel. Also because the swing takes you in a full circle.

Chloe straightened her legs in preparation to slam into his back, hopefully pushing him of the side of the building or at least give him some kind of injury with her heels. But he turned at the last minute and smacked her out of the air with his forearm. The bruise forming on her leg tells her that he has both super strength and invulnerability, since normal human strength wouldn't have sent so far and normal human arms would have broken if they tried to pull that trick.

The newest guest started throwing stuff at her. So Chloe quickly rose and jumped to the next building. She needed time to think.

Chloe wasn't here to fight the heroes, she here because Mari told she'd find something here. Maybe a lost miraculous, or guardian artifact. Or maybe someone-

"Boo." The young voice happily said, followed by giggles.

"Merde!" She shrieked, throwing one of her own boomerang weapons at the voice. Her eyebrows furrowed when she heard the unsatisfying noise of them imbedding themselves in the concrete.

She heard a fwuop and whoosh noise from the sidekick squad's direction, directly behind her. Not a good move on her part. She turned her head to see a net and inch from her face, leaving no room or time for escape.  She hit the ground with a thud, unable to get up due to the weight of the net. It likely was made for non-human threats. Not that Chloe wasn't human, but she was magically enhanced and that made her a lot stronger than one.

She felt hands pick her up and set her into a kneeling position, unknowingly giving her an  advantage. She quickly broke off the heel of her boot and hid it in her hand. They surrounded her, but were weirdly silent. They made faces at each other, like one would to convey emotion into words.

Redhead One tried to touch her forehead, and Chloe definitely wasn't having that. She summersaulted backwards into Super-kid, successfully knocking him down and allowing her to cut some of the net with the sharp side of her heel. Her legs were free now, and as she multi-tasked cutting the rest of the net, and dodging what ever the new guy was throwing at her and the now flying Redhead One, she ran and jumped as safely as she could.

Who was she trying to kid, that's what she'd tell Mari when this was over. Literally none of the stuff she does is safe.

Chloe landed on a roof top the one they fought on and she was so close to  getting the stupid weighted-net off her. As she finished cutting the last bit of the net and she reached for her top, she was bound again. This time by a... rope? Something like her weapon, just it was without a top or yoyo at the end and was... gold.

Oh, fuck.

[ifimayhaveaword]

So I saw this post and all I could think is:

you are DANCING WITH THE LOYL FRANKIE MORALES at the SUMMER BANDSTAND where you set up your picnic basket and blanket near a tree for some shade. You bring little baby angel Morales with you, make it a family affair, but you don’t expect her to do much other than pull up the grass and wiggle and maybe fall asleep in her pack n play as the night goes on. Still, it’s a Wednesday night tradition in the summertime once June rolls around, and you’re excited to hear the local jazz and brass band slotted to play tonight.

In the cooler are drinks (and a Drink™️ for each of you) and some sliced fruit to munch, and makings of a bottle and nibbles if little angel gets hungry, but only two songs in Frankie picks you both up from the blanket with insistent hands sliding under your armpits to pick you up with the baby laughing and squirming in your arms. Apparently your wiggling to the music and seated-dancing proves too silly for him to handle any more. Pressed close in the hips but with space between you for baby Morales to flap her hands and pat at her father’s face in glee, you share a giddy, tender moment together— surrounded by big band music and laughing kids and happy people in the background just adds to your joy that evening. The two of you step in time with each other and the music, and make the baby the axis of your helter-skelter orbit. You stop when Frankie perhaps not so playfully claims he’s getting dizzy, and he crosses his eyes dramatically with his tongue out for the baby’s squealing amusement.

Later, when she’s tired herself out and covered by her favorite blanket, you and Frankie share sips of one of the beers you brought along with you, leaning on his shoulder and smelling bug spray and his cologne and just a little clean sweat— it’s not poetic, you think, but it’s grounding and real and nothing smells better in that moment, with the murmurs of the crowd dwindling and the band winding down with a slower, romantic sway of a song.

You feel Frankie give your shoulder a nudge with his nose and a little kiss, then the bottle gets pulled from your hand and you get plucked up to standing in the grass for the last time that night. You’re snug together, stepping and swaying tiredly, comfortably, slowly. You scrunch your nose when Frankie rubs his hand under your shirt across your sweaty back, but he follows it up with a double-bounce of his eyebrows and the dorky dimpled grin you fell in love with. Unable to contain it, your head drops back when you laugh, and he gently dips you— stopping before you go far, that strong arm keeping you close, pulling you back up for a giggly, contented kiss.

Sorry @keeper0fthestars this probably looks v similar to what I flung into your messages the other day but I could not stop thinking about it with baby Morales in the mix 🥺

Also tagging uhhh @cinewhore @chews-erotically @corvueros @goldafterglow @rae-gar-targaryen

[kareofbears]

plainly in truth, chapter 3/5

"Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

Ryuji grips the letter like it was silver and he was a werewolf in the full moon.

He picks it up, skims over the first line before putting it down beside him, feeling worse every time he does it, only able to read the fine-printed lettering from the flickering lamp post above him. The constant change in light would normally bug him, but he doesn’t really care about it now; it’s not like the words would change in his hand, and he’s long since needed to actually read it to know what it reads.

His feet dangle over the canal, enjoying the way a rush of adrenaline would go through him when he looks down into the deep waters. It’s late enough in the night that even with the city lights around him, he can’t gauge how deep it goes.

Soseikawa Park was only a five minute walk from Odori Park, but with the narrow river and steeped hills, Ryuji found it secluded enough to let himself sit. Breathe. Not exist, even for just a few minutes. It’s like having his own bedroom, except it smells faintly like a sewer and there’s an intersection about ten meters above where he sat underneath the overpass. If he can ignore the never-ending rumble of cars and trucks driving above him, it can almost be considered peaceful.

He lets himself fall back, the grass tickling the back of his neck and his spine screaming in relief. They’re heading out again in two days, which means more days of being in an inescapable RV surrounded by his best friends who are keeping an eye on him because they’re good people who don’t know how to mind their own fucking business.

Idly, he lets his hands pull and brings it to his face—blades of grass. He lets it get taken by the wind. After brief consideration, he shoves the letter back into his pocket before he can do the same thing to it.

He is so tired.

Blindly, he hits the vague area of where his pocket is and fishes out his phone, hitting the first speed dial before he can talk himself out of it. As two rings go by, he stupidly hopes that she doesn’t pick up, as if she hasn’t ever missed a phone call from him even when she’s at work.

The third ring gets cut off halfway through. “Ryu!”

Despite himself, he grins. “Hey, ma. Checking in for the weekly call.”

“I was just thinking about you,” she says, and he can hear the laundry machine run in the background. “I was wondering if you had eaten today.”

“Ma, you ain’t gotta worry about that kinda thing anymore. I’m a big boy now.”

“You’re breaking my heart!” He can almost see her, phone tucked in the crook of her neck, work-worn hands folding her laundry as fast as she can so as to not hold up the next person in line. “It doesn’t matter how big you are, you’re my boy. How can I not think about whether my boy is eating or not?”

“All I’ve done on this trip is eat, ma.”

“Oh, and Akira! How’s that handsome boy doing? Still taking the world by storm?”

That pulls a genuine laugh from him—he never needs to hold back when it comes to talking about Akira, at least. “You know it. He’s the only guy in the world who can stand toe-to-toe with me in chowing down. I swear, he’s slipping some of it under the table ‘cause he’s so damn fast. Forty seconds! Forty seconds to inhale an extra large beef bowl! Blows my mind, seriously.”

“Could never do anything in halves, can he?” she chuckles, before the quality of her voice shifts. “And are you enjoying yourself?”

He hesitates. “Yeah, of course. It’s a roadtrip across Japan, how can I not?”

“Good.” There’s some crackling over the receiver, and he guesses she’s probably adjusting the basket full of clothes on her hip. “That’s all I want to hear. As long as you’re happy, Ryu, I’m a happy old woman.”

Ryuji opens his mouth, ready to console her.

I’m always happy!

You worry too much, ma.

There’s nothing to worry about.

“Sorry, but,” he swallows thickly. “I think they’re calling for me? So—”

“Alright,” she says, and he might be imagining the disappointed tinge to it. “Call back when you can, okay sweetheart? I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he clears his throat. “I love you, ma.”

“I love you too, Ryu.”

He hangs up, letting the phone slip out of his fingers. It lands hard on the flat grass

For a long moment, he just lays there, listening to the gentle lapping waves and cars honking with impatience of people who have somewhere to be. He tries to meditate for half a minute, with all the information he had learned from a couple of YouTube videos, and gives up, because of course he does. Squeezing his eyes shut, he can’t do anything about the creeping dread that’s in his stomach getting stronger, squeezing and squeezing until he feels sick. It’s like his insecurities are having this huge fight against each other, feeding off of one another until it gets too big for him to handle and all he can do is breathe and try to do something about it.

And he’s fucking sick of it—breathing. He’s sick of the stupid breathing techniques, sick of counting down from ten and waiting for his own heart to chill out because his brain won’t stop reminding him of everything he did wrong, of shit he’s still doing wrong because at least this way, nobody knows what he did was wrong. It’s just him that can point and laugh at himself, and that’s way better than having the world do it for him.

He doesn’t cry, because he’s not a crier. He’s the type of guy to throw a fist through drywood before shedding a tear, and he hates that about himself. Rather than do something that will actually help, Ryuji lays there, perfectly still. Listening. Waiting for a meteor to fall on him, or for the overpass to crash its entire weight on top of him.

Instead, he hears footsteps.

His heart rate slows by a fraction, and opens his eyes to meet gray ones. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Akira says, a smile in his voice. “How did you know it was me?”

Ryuji almost feels offended. He would know Akira by sound alone, the way his heels would click in the Metaverse. The way the balls of his feet would strike the earth, hardly muffled by grass or cheap sneakers or anything else as trivial. Ryuji would know he was there; no matter how blind he was with hatred for himself, his love for Akira would always guide him back to where he needs to be.

“Lucky guess.”

“One hell of a guess.” He plops down onto the grass and Ryuji lifts his head, allowing Akira to wiggle until he could use his lap as a pillow. “Your turn,” Akira says.

“My turn to what?”

“To ask me how I knew where you were.”

“Oh.” He lets his eyes slide shut again. “I kinda just assumed you could do that.”

“You assume too much of me sometimes.”

“I assume the right amount.” Ryuji refuses to shiver when he feels long fingers start to card through his hair. “You’re giving me goosebumps,” he sighs.

“That’s a good thing, I think.” The fingers pull away and he’s about to complain when he feels something gets thrown over his torso. “Here. You always end up forgetting to wear an extra layer when you go out like this.”

Ryuji rearranges Akira’s jacket over himself. “Sap.”

“You know it.” He resumes combing through his hair, and Ryuji lets himself relax, just a little. It’s strange—it’s hard as hell being around other people nowadays, and even though Akira can make him feel that sometimes, mostly it helps the eternal twisting of his stomach to settle.

“You’re good at that,” Ryuji mutters.

“Thank you. I’ve had plenty of practice with Morgana.” And just to make it worse, he uses a little bit of nail on his nape, sending electricity running down all the way to his fingertips.

His mouth twists unhappily. “Don’t do shit like that while talking about the cat, for the love of god.”

Akira does it again, like the little shit he is. “You still have that weird thing with your neck?”

“Quit it!” Ryuji slaps his thigh and he can’t muster much anger when he can feel Akira’s shoulders shake from silent laughter. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“You’re right.” Gently, softly, like the world’s lightest feather, he feels lips brush his temple. “I’m funnier.”

His eyes open, and his entire vision is obscured by curly black hair and tender eyes. “You’re right,” he breathes. “You’re funnier.”

Akira bends down again, and Ryuji catches his lips, overflowing with something soft but unafraid, and it’s so good that Ryuji reaches for his cheek just to make it last a little bit longer.

When they break off, Akira kisses his temple again, this time on the left side. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Uh,” he scratches his head, brain a little fuzzy. “Tuesday?”

“It’s Wednesday, and I meant the date. It’s August tenth.”

“Okay?”

Akira thumbs at his collarbone. “I know this might be a little lame that I know it by heart, but I left Tokyo on March 19th. That would mean it’s been—”

“One hundred forty-four days since you moved away,” he finishes. “I know.”

Akira blinks, and then laughs, and Ryuji knows it’s an especially good one because sound actually comes out this time. “Yes,” he says, elated. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

“I told you dude, we’re really on that telepathy shit.”

“We really are.” A pause. “I miss you.”

He’s about to joke—I’m right here, you big dummy—but find that he just can’t. “I miss you too.”

They can’t say what they mean: I will miss you. Summer vacation doesn’t last forever, and two months will always be a hell of a lot shorter than the rest of the ten months that they’ll be apart. Somehow, he dreads seeing Akira gone, and he’ll dread seeing Akira back in Tokyo because it would mean that he’d actually have to see what Ryuji’s really like. Actively pushing away his best friend just so he doesn’t have to see his failures; doesn’t that just make him the worst piece of shit in the world?

There’s a gap, though. A little loophole. A crack in the timeline. A place where maybe he’s allowed to be a hollowed out version of happy; the now.

“Tomorrow’s our last day in Sapporo?”

“Yeah?” Akira replies, surprised at the change in tone.

“Which means Jail stuff is done, right? All your grocery shopping and Sophia Prime’s been ordered and packed up?”

“Yes,” he says, a lilt in his voice. “It’s all done.”

Ryuji sits up and faces him, reaching for his wrists, relishing in the heartbeat thumping against his palms. “Let’s do something. I don’t care what, but let’s do something. Eat at a diner, go to a museum, rob a bank, whatever.” He runs his thumb along the veins there, long since those bumps have been ingrained in his brain. “Let’s do something, just you and me.”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Sakamoto?” He has a cocky look in his eye, and Ryuji’s half-tempted to kiss him again just to wipe it clean off his face. “You know I’d follow you anywhere.”

He knows. That’s the scary part. Would Akira still follow someone he doesn’t know as well as he thinks he does? “I’ll get us lost,” he jokes.

Akira doesn’t laugh. “I’d rather be lost with you than learn to lose you.”

It’s been ages since he’s been flustered at anything Akira does, but he feels a rush of heat crawl up his neck. “I’ll—” Ryuji shakes his head, willing his embarrassment to go away. “Shit, uh—”

“I’ll pick where to go,” he interrupts, a little too smug for his liking. “I’d say I’ll pick you up at your place, but…”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a comedian,” Ryuji rolls his eyes. “I’ll be ready whenever.”

“Fantastic.” Akira checks his phone, wincing. “It’s late.”

He grips his wrist tightly. “I know.”

Thankfully, he’s never needed to explain much to Akira. “Okay,” he says softly. “Ten more minutes?”

“Yeah.” He lets his eyes slide shut once more, letting out a breath. The world will keep spinning. His stomach will keep twisting. Time will keep marching on, but at least he has this. “Ten minutes sounds good.”

—

The first words that Futaba says as she enters the RV was: “Oh, hell.”

“Hello Futaba-chan, Yusuke-kun,” Haru greets cheerfully from the booth. “How was your shopping trip?”

“...Fine,” she replies, stepping aside to let him in, lugging a four-foot tall canvas in his arms that accidentally hits the ceiling. “Got a new Featherman action figure.”

“I got a canvas,” Yusuke answers from behind the wall of white. “Though I assume you can see that.”

“I can.” Her smile doesn’t falter, and it’s making the hair on Futaba’s nape rise like a nervous animal. “Quick question, since you both are here…”

Haru pulls a tote bag from underneath the table, and it’s so heavy that when she throws it on the table, her teacup nearly topples over. “Would you like to take a guess of what’s in this bag?”

A billion jokes pop into Futaba’s head, but both of them stay silent, terrified and confused. They both knew this was coming, but they didn’t expect her to be so forward about it.

“I suppose that’s a pretty strange question, I’m sorry. Let me try again.” She reaches in and pulls out thick, heavy textbooks, all brightly coloured and consist of beaming, diverse students on the front cover. “Care to tell me why you were both looking at cram books while we’re on our fun roadtrip?”

Yusuke pushes Futaba aside, eyes on the books and wide with shock. “You bought them?!” he exclaims.

“Wait—” Futaba hops repeatedly, trying to catch a glimpse from over his shoulder. “You bought all of them?”

“Of course.”

“But why?”

She thinks about it for a moment. “Hmm, think about it this way. If Akira’s in charge of the group as a whole, and Makoto’s in charge of the more analytical aspect of things, think of me as a somewhat stern yet loving parent who doesn’t quite know how to mind their own business.”

“I thought that was Ann’s job,” Futaba mutters, heart hammering in her chest.

“Now,” Haru leans forward, and as if to prove her role, speaks in a gentle tone. “I’m not mad at you. That would be ridiculous. But I saw you two looking at these books, and I know how expensive they can be, so I’ll give them to you.”

She blinks. “You would?”

“Absolutely!” Haru smiles wide. “On the condition that you tell me why you need them.”

Futaba and Yusuke exchange a glance, before Futaba makes a T with her hands. “Timeout!” she yells, dragging Yusuke by the collar out of the RV.

“What do we do?” he whispers once the door is shut. “It’s not as if we can tell her.”

“I don’t know, maybe we should?” she pushes up her glasses. “Damn, the things money can buy you. Our vow of silence is getting thrown out the window for two handfuls of yen.”

He looks her dead in the eyes. “I would tell the world my deepest secrets if it meant having lifetime access to a grocery store.”

“Don’t say that, you sellout!”

“I’m not selling out. My art already reveals the deepest portion of my soul, it’s not my fault that the common observers cannot pick up what I’m putting down.” He squints against the setting sun. “She’s waiting. What do we do?”

“Okay, okay, okay, just let me—” her mind whirrs rapidly, and for a second she really feels like Sophia. “Give me a second.”

“I have a suggestion,” he points at her. “If we’re not averse to lying, let’s tell them that you need them for school. You’re struggling with academics, you need a bit of outside help, so we took a look at the textbooks.”

“Good idea! Wait.” She frowns. “They’ll never buy it. Let’s say that you need them.”

“I’m at the top of my class!”

“But they don’t know that!” She balls her fists together, determined. “Okay, let’s do this.”

“I didn’t say yes to this.”

Futaba kicks the door open, making Haru pause wiping her spilt drink mid-stroke. “Inari’s struggling with his classes!”

“I—“ Yusuke stammers. “Yes,” he confirms. “I’m struggling with my classes. They’re mighty indeed, and even I find them difficult. I am...struggling.”

Haru looks at them doubtfully. “Yusuke is?”

“I am,” he answers as Futaba says, “He is.”

“Yusuke,” she repeats, gesturing to the neatly-stacked pile of textbooks on the table. “Is struggling with precalculus?”

They stare at her. “Yes,” Yusuke says, slowly. “I am struggling with previous calculus.”

“Out of curiosity, Yusuke,” Haru scratches her cheek. “Do you know what a parabola is?”

“Of course I do,” he replies with the wisdom of a thousand monks. “It’s a self-contradictory statement.”

“That’s a paradox,” Makoto corrects from the steering wheel.

“What the heck?” Futaba jumps a foot in the air. “Why are you here? Why were you hiding?”

“I like to sit here a few hours before we start another road trip,” she says, before glaring at them. “You two. Does this have to do with Ryuji?”

“T-timeout!”

Futaba makes a beeline to the door again, but Haru’s faster. She slips past them, standing in their way, perfect smile still in place. Sometimes Futaba forgets how strong she is in negotiations; her and Yusuke were probably tutorial levels compared to the upper management of Okumura Foods. “Answer her question, please.”

Yusuke sighs, tired. “You know what you’re asking for, don’t you? If we tell you what’s happening here, it would be breaking the trust of one of our teammates.”

“Yusuke!” Futaba hisses. “Are you really thinking about telling them? It’s not even our secret to tell.”

“No, it isn’t.” He makes eye contact with Makoto. “But she made a point. What would make us better friends: if we kept a secret to the grave while letting him suffer, or tell someone who can help even if it means being some sort of tattletale?”

“But…” she trails off, resolve crumbling. “Dude. It’s going to suck so much.”

“I know.” He pats her head, before moving to Ryuji’s backpack once more. “Don’t worry, I’m willing to take his anger if need be.” Yusuke gestures to the booth. “Everyone, take a seat. It’s about time this finally gets cleared up.”

Smoothing out the envelope in his hand, even more crumpled than when they had it last, he clears his throat, takes one last glance at Futaba to make sure. At her tentative nod, he begins to read its contents in a loud, clear voice.

When he finishes, they sit there, staring at the thick paper in silence.

“Oh my god,” Makoto breathes. “I knew it was bad, but—”

Haru shakes her head. “Not this bad. And he talked about it so much, but we didn’t even…” she glances down at the textbooks, idly rubbing its spine. “I didn’t think much of it.”

“None of us did,” Yusuke says. “But does that make it any better?”

They fall in silence again, but Futaba can hear the answer loud and clear. Hell no.

The door opens forcefully, pulling them out of their stupor.

“What’s up, my beloved friends!” Ann calls, shopping bags in tow. “God, I’m gonna miss Sapporo. Things here are so cheap compared to Tokyo, sheesh!” She sets them down, laughing when nobody says anything. “Jeez, what’s going on? Did I miss something?”

“Ann-chan,” Haru says carefully, all sense of cheer, for intimidation or otherwise, gone. “Take a seat. There’s something you should know.”

—

The Ferris wheel looms over them, blocking out most of the sunset behind it. “Nice,” Ryuji grins appreciatively. “I should’ve seen this one coming.”

“You should’ve,” Akira agrees, tugging him into the open carriage. He goes in willingly. “It was staring at you the whole time we’re in Sapporo. And besides, every romantic movie has a Ferris wheel scene, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yeah? Name one.”

“Death note.”

Ryuji makes a face, and Akira laughs. “Yeah, I know. Bad example.”

It’s a tight squeeze but they sit next to each other, ignoring the bench in front of them. The seats are hot, and even though it’s nearly evening, the heat barely eases up on them. Still, he finds himself pressing himself against Akira. He runs cold, much colder than Ryuji; narrow wrists are ice, prominent collarbones frost.

The two of them lean over the window, pointing out random scenery as if it were the first time they were seeing them. Restaurants, statues. Weird looking cars and flower beds. Decorated high rises and insects that fly by. It’s like they were tourists, or a retired couple who just want to travel the world. He’s never wanted to be old before, but Akira always has a way of making him change his mind.

Like clockwork—Ryuji makes a joke. Akira laughs. His heart feels lighter.

When he finds himself leaning against him, feet up on the bench, Akira wraps his arms around his shoulders unhesitatingly. Ryuji wonders if he can hear the way his heart thuds inside his bones. He wonders if he knows it's for him. The Ferris wheel stops, right at the very top, gently swaying like it were a giant cradle. They’re not very high up, but it’s far enough that he feels like he’s left the entire world behind.

Ryuji presses his lips against those wrists, relishing in the way he can feel the heartbeat increase. “You nervous?”

He can feel his head shake behind him. “I’m happy, I think,” Akira says in a hushed voice, like it was a secret, like it was a sin.

A breeze flows through, and Ryuji closes his eyes when lips press against just below his ear.

Would it be worth it to have a Palace? A Jail? Would it be worth it to lose himself, just to be in this moment for the rest of time?

Carefully, he flips himself sideways, just so he can press more of himself against Akira. The carriage rocks gently, and the metal bench underneath them is sharp and uncomfortable. Arms tighten around him. Chest to back, knee to knee, they couldn’t be closer, but Ryuji leans back, wanting nothing more than to bottle the rhythm of his breathing and the smell of his soap.

I’m happy, too, I think, he wants to say. If we stayed like this for the rest of our lives, until our skin is permanently tattooed into the hot steel and our bones are the only thing they take out of this bench because the rest of us had already rotted, then I’d be pretty damn happy.

Craning his neck backwards, Akira is already staring.

Then he’s kissing him—once, twice, again and again, and Ryuji realizes that something’s different. This wasn’t the kind of kiss he was used to. There was a desperate air to it, an urgent edge from both of them that neither was ready for. Stealing each other’s breath and giving it back; the cycle continues, the clock keeps ticking.

Ryuji pulls himself up, not breaking the kiss, cupping his cheek and soaking him in like a flower to the sun; an endless yearning, like he’d shrivel up and suffocate if it vanished. The sun framed Akira, and for a split second, he feels like he understands what Yusuke sees on a canvas.

When they part, foreheads leaning against each other, Ryuji lifts a trembling hand to wipe the tear that rolled down Akira’s cheek.

“What’s up?” he asks softly. “Is something wrong?”

“I feel like you’re a miracle, Ryuji.”

How do you respond to that? When the person who said it feels like they’re the one who’s magic, who’s too good to be true?

“Fuck miracles,” he says, pulling Akira in again.

—

The circuit felt like it ended too soon, but it’s night when they finally stepped off, holding hands and faces flushed. He hopes the ride operator doesn’t hate them, but he’s in too good of a mood to really complain.

Ryuji stops in his tracks when he sees who’s in front of them.

“Ann?” Akira questions, taken aback. Eyes dark and brows pulled close together, clutching her purse like a weapon of war—she looks like she’d just seen someone set an orphanage on fire.

Her voice is shockingly deep, gaze fixed on Ryuji. “I’m borrowing him for a second.”

Before either of them can say anything, Ann takes him by the bicep, and he can only glance at Akira before he’s dragged back into the Ferris wheel.

“Did you even pay—?”

“Don’t start,” she hisses, pushing him on the bench, hard. “Don’t you dare start, you damn liar.”

His blood runs cold. “What?”

No. That’s impossible.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” She shoves her hand in her bag and throws something rubber at him. “Do you know how long it took me to find a good one here? I spent my entire day in the shopping district—not looking for clothes, or shoes, or whatever the hell I thought would be fun. No, I spent our last day in Sapporo looking for that.”

Ryuji looks down at the hot compress in his hands, a lump in his throat.

“Because you weren’t doing anything to your knee,” she continues, jaw tight. “Despite me trying my best to help you get better. I thought that you must’ve been really fan-freaking-tastic at hiding the pain that you told me about. That I trusted was the truth because you’re one of my best friends and I trust you. I trust you with my life, my secrets—” Ann grits her teeth. “What the hell?”

“How did you find out?” he asks hoarsely.

She knows. If she knows, they could know. If they could know—

“Damn you, it doesn’t matter how I found out!” she throws her hands in the air, voice so hurt that it twists his insides impossibly tighter. “You think I would care? You think that this is important enough to lie to me about? Dammit, I don’t care that you—”

“Don’t say it,” he begs. “Please.”

“I don’t give a single shit that you failed second-year, Sakamoto!”

Her words ring against the steel walls, deafening.

Bile crawls up his esophagus, and he readies himself for another attack. But for some strange reason, his vision doesn’t blur. Instead, anger kicks in like it always does.

“You don’t care?” he asks, incredulous. “This doesn’t even have anything to do with you!”

“It does when you lie to me about it!” she yells back. “Do you not care about me? About your friends who would go to hell and back for you?”

“How dare you—!”

“You lied to me, you hid it from everyone else, you ignored our advice because it doesn’t mean shit to you.” She points a finger at him. “And look where that got you.”

“Shut up.”

“We all noticed, you know! Each and every one of us noticed that something was up, even the literal robot—”

“Shut the hell up, Ann.”

“And for what? All you accomplished was hurt our feelings, hold in yours, and keep it from the love of your life—”

Ryuji stands up, rocking the carriage and nearly toppling Ann off her feet.

“It’s because I fucking hate myself!”

She grips the barred window, eyes wide. They stare each other down for a few long moments, before the ride comes to an abrupt end. The door swings open, allowing a cheery greeting from the oblivious employee.

And then Ann sighs, shoulders deflating. “Come on,” she jerks her head to the door, before stepping out herself. “Let’s go.”

“What?” he asks, puzzled. “Where?”

“If we’re going to delve into the psyche of Sakamoto Ryuji, we might as well do it with some food in front of us.”

—

The cafe Ann takes him to is bright, filled with pastries and crowded with people—stools are pastel blue, baristas are wearing cute bowties, and each cup of coffee comes with an alarming amount of whipped cream on top. Sojiro would have a heart attack if he walked three kilometers of this place, but Ryuji’s glad that the resemblance is far and away than that of Leblanc.

The booth is pressed into the corner of it all; up against the window and far enough from the main bustle that they’d have to really put their all into it if they wanted to take their order. On one side sat Futaba, nervously tracing shapes on the window while Haru sits beside her. The opposite end has Yusuke and Makoto.

They all look up when they hear the bell chime, and Ryuji almost laughs. “It’s been a long ass time since I’ve seen you guys look so serious,” he remarks, sliding next to Makoto while Ann sits next to Haru. “Where’s the food at? Come on guys, food’s good for you.”

He raises a hand. “Excuse me! We’re ready!”

“Ryuji,” Futaba’s voice is brittle. “I—”

“Hold on shorty,” he reaches to pat her head, voice coming out soft. “We’ll get to that. I promise.”

A waiter comes, takes their drink order, and leaves. When he does, Yusuke places a heavy hand on the table. “I was the one who told everyone.”

“That’s not true!” Futaba cries out, and everyone jerks back in shock. “That’s bull! I’m the one who told him to go through your stuff ‘cause he was worried about you, but I’m the one who actually—”

“No, I’m the one at fault here,” Haru casts her gaze downwards. “It was really none of my business, but I forced these two to tell everyone here. I’m so sorry—”

Ryuji sighs. “Guys, it’s fine.” He’s met with an incredulous look. “Okay, it isn’t, but none of this is your fault, you know? I’m not mad.” His gaze shifts to Ann. “But you’re allowed to be mad at me. I know I shouldn’t have hidden it.”

She gives him a weighted look. “Then why did you do it?”

“Ann,” Makoto warns.

“No, I’m not budging on this.” She leans forward. “He lied to me. Lying doesn’t get you anywhere good. That was really stupid of you.”

“Ann!” Futaba cuts in, horrified.

“You’ve seen what happened with Shiho.” Ryuji flinches back like he’s been hit. He knows. Ann knows he knows. But she keeps going anyway. “She lied to me about what was happening, and I lied to her back. It kept going and going, and—” she snaps her fingers. “She’s gone from my life. For how long? I don’t know, maybe until we graduate. Maybe until her rehab ends. Maybe longer. Who knows? All I know is if we had just—talked, or—” Ann shakes her head, frustrated. “From the start. Tell us what happened. And afterwards, let us help you, or I swear to god I’m going to cry, and I know you can’t stand it when people cry.”

The silence is deafening, even with the clamor of people and voices around them.

Ryuji lets out a breath. “Yeah, alright.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You will?”

“I will,” he repeats, idly checking his pulse. Heart rate is a little quick, but in no danger of having another breakdown. “I’ll tell you everything.”

The waiter chooses that time to drop off their drinks; all cold except Haru, nursing a hot cup of tea. They definitely didn’t buy enough to justify the god-knows-how-long they’re going to spend here, but they’re just gonna have to suck it up.

“Alright,” he starts when they’re alone again. “We going from the start?”

“The very beginning,” Ann confirms.

With one last glance at his friends, he sighs, sits up straight, and flashes them the biggest grin he can muster:

“Hi,” he greets. “I’m Sakamoto Ryuji, and I failed my second-year of high school.”

No one’s expression shifts, not even an inch. He can’t help but be a little impressed. “You guys know that I’ve never been the greatest with books. Shit, screw greatest—I’ve ranked bottom five ever since I started middle school. Didn’t help that my leg got fucked to high heaven and everyone started hating me. Nearly dropped out a couple times. Had no one, really. Worst time in my life, hands down.

“So imagine this dumb little kid, middle of April, running into this guy.” Without meaning to, the grin shifts into something more genuine. “Good-looking dude, super smart, real charmer but you wouldn’t be able to tell just by lookin’ at him. And that guy saved my life. Ten, twenty, thirty times over. He was so great that the dumb kid obviously fell in love with him. But what’s even crazier is that the guy fell in love with the dumb little kid, too.

“Crazy, right? Sounds made up, but I promise it’s true.” He catches Futaba’s expression shift to exasperation. “I know, I can’t believe it either.”

“That’s not what I meant, you sap,” she says.

“Yeah, but that dumb little kid,” he explains. “Couldn’t believe it. Literally couldn’t believe it. Thinks that he struck the lottery, struck by damn lightning. I mean—” Ryuji laughs a little. “How can someone so amazing and cool be in love with such a moron? What made it worse…”

He gestures at all of them. “Was that the guy had so many people in his life who was also amazing. His social circle was made up of, and correct me if I’m wrong: a successful journalist, a politician, some dude from the mob, a random child who breaks gaming records on the daily, and I’m not even counting people from this goddamn table. So dumb little kid knows, he fucking knows that somehow, someway, he tricked the cool guy into falling in love with him. The kid sucked, no, sucks,” he corrects. “At everything. Can’t do anything worthwhile.”

“Ryuji…” Haru whispers.

“Almost done, I know it’s running on kinda long,” he promises. “So the dumb little kid became kinda obsessed with the group’s ‘activities’, and it’s obvious why he would, right? If he knows he’s not good enough for the guy he’s in love with, then he can at least try to be. But since he already sucked at school to begin with, dummy over here completely bailed on school and ended up flunking so bad that he failed an entire year.”

An entire year. An entire year.

It’s becoming harder and harder to breathe, but he’d rather get hit by a truck than lose it in front of so many people. Gritting his teeth, he does what he knows is bad, what every google search and YouTube video says you should not do—he pushes his feelings, far and hard away from himself, so far that it’s like it doesn’t even exist.

It works surprisingly well.

“And, uh—” Ryuji clears his throat. “He hid it. Because you know the one, single thing that’s worse than realizing you’re not good enough for the other person?”

No one answers. “Waiting for the day that they realize that you’re not good enough for them.”

“And that’s pretty much the bulk of it.” Reaching for his mug, he takes a sip of his lukewarm lemonade. Damn, he really did talk for a while. “I didn’t want to tell the rest of you because one, it’s really fucking embarrassing that I failed, and two—”

“Akira can’t know,” they all say in unison.

“Exactly, you guys get the point by now.” He drums his fingers against the table, trying to ignore the blatant gloom cast on all of their faces. “Question time starts now, if anyone wants to ask anything.”

Makoto opens her mouth, but he beats her to it. “If anyone even thinks about feeling pity, or be all ‘no, you’re smart actually!’, I am walking out of this cafe and I am not looking back.”

“What about summer school?” Makoto asks immediately. “If you didn’t want us to know, then you could’ve taken that without even telling us.”

“Summer school was never an option.”

“And why not?” she slaps her hand against the table. “It would’ve solved this entire situation!”

“Because Akira was coming home for the summer,” he says simply. “And I wanted to enjoy my time with him without this hanging over my head.”

Her jaw drops open. “But...that’s…”

“Stupid?” he offers. “Idiotic? Really dumb? Potentially throwing away my entire future? Yeah, I gotcha. Another part of it was that the thought of staying at Shujin for another minute makes me want to jump into traffic, if that helps make me look a little better in your mind, miss prez.”

Makoto’s expression of confusion freezes, taken aback by the harshness of his words. Ryuji cringes at himself. “Sorry.”

“No,” she says finally. “The fault is mine. I have no right to judge your actions, or to pretend I know what kind of stress is burdening you.” Hesitating, she asks, “May I request another question?”

“Shoot.”

“What were you going to do when we eventually go back to Tokyo?”

As expected of someone who went head-to-head against the ace detective in front of the entire school; her questions are brutal. “I don’t know, honestly. I was planning on ignoring the problem for now and just sort of,” he gestures vaguely. “Enjoy the summertime sun?”

“A moment,” Haru goes through her bag. “It’s a long story, but I have these—”

The second the books peek out of her tote, he recognizes the cover immediately. “Cram books? You bought some?”

“Yes!” she answers, mistaking his reaction for eagerness. “It’s a very small gesture, but I’d love for you to have them.”

“I—” he leans away from them, breath catching in his throat. “No.”

“No?” she blinks.

“Not now, senpai.” Trying out his new trick again, he forces his heart to slow down, forces his breathing to regulate again without any of the techniques, and forces himself not to feel any of the fear that he’d normally have to go through. It works, but barely. “I’m not—I don’t think I’m ready to deal with that yet.”

“That’s fine.” Haru puts them away, and as hard as he tries, he can still see how dejected she was. “I’ll hold on to them for you.”

“Thank you.” He glances around. “Any last takers? Q&A is almost up.”

“I have one,” Yusuke pipes up.

“Go for it.”

“How are you?” he asks genuinely.

Ryuji can’t help it—a laugh gets pulled out of him. “How am I?” he repeats.

“Yes. How are you?”

“Uh,” he laughs again. “Not good, man. Not good.”

Everyone startles when Ryuji stands abruptly. He slams down the rest of his lemonade, relieved at how it helps his parched throat. “Alrighty, that took a lot out of me! Let’s get out of here, I’m sick of being surrounded by fake coffee and poser cafe fanatics.”

“I’ll take care of the bill,” Haru says, following his lead and scooting out from the booth.

“What? No, come on. I don’t care how rich you are, at least let me pay half.”

“Ryuji.” She looks him dead in the eye. “I’ll take care of the bill.”

“...Yes ma’am.”

Slowly, they all start filing out, some exiting the cafe while Makoto goes to the till with Haru. Ryuji reaches for Ann’s elbow before she can leave. “Hey.”

Turning her head, it’s as if her lips were permanently stitched downwards. “Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry I lied to you,” he says, somber. “That was shitty, and it doesn’t matter what I’m going through—you can’t deal with lies. I get that. I won’t put you through that again.”

Ann kisses her palm before slapping it against his forehead. “You better not,” her voice drips in affection. “You said not to console you—”

“I did, and I meant it.”

“But I’m here for you,” she rubs his skin harder, and he winces at the chafing. “You know that, right? No matter how crazy the shit inside your head gets, I want you to talk to me.”

“I know it,” he says, not just because he wants the friction to ease up. “I know it now, for sure.”

“Good.” Ann releases him, and goes to join Haru and Makoto up front. “You might want to head out. Someone’s starting to make a fuss.”

“What?” he turns around, making direct eye contact with Futaba, nursing a blank expression on her face. “I see.”

The bell chimes once more when he steps out, relieved at the cool summer air that hits him. “Shorty,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “What’s good?”

“Here.” Ryuji glances down at her, who’s holding a familiar, now very-crumpled envelope between her fingers. It’s weird seeing her hold the letter announcing his failure like a bomb, but he understands the sentiment. “I had to show Ann because she wouldn’t believe me until I got some proof.”

“Thank you,” he says, shoving it in his pocket. “I’m not mad at you, you know.”

“I know you’re not.” She swallows and stares down at her shoes. Her laces were covered in little beads and stars, something he had bought for her during a weekend hangout once. “This isn’t me pitying you, or showering you with some kind of boohoo potion.”

She swallows again. “I failed my first year of high school. It was for a completely different reason—guilt for who I thought I killed rather than wanting to be something else. But I know. I know so much about what you’re going through.”

Futaba looks up, and his heart wrenches when he sees the tears in her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry if I made you sad, or that I kept calling you stupid back then,” she sobs. “I don’t mean it, and I’m so mean to you all of the time but I don’t mean any of it. I told everyone your secret because I wanted to—” she hiccups, and she pushes her glasses to the top of her head. “I wanted to give you your own version of what the Phantom Thieves did for me, but I reached out to you guys back then. No one forced me to do anything, but I took that choice away from you.”

He pulls her in his arms, and her tears are hot even through his shirt. “I know, Futaba,” he says, patting her head. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

She hits his chest weakly. “Me taking care of you?” she sniffs. “I’m literally the one crying right now.”

“Just for now though,” he shrugs. “Next time I cry, you’ll be the one handing me tissues, I swear.”

They stand there, the two of them standing in the middle of Sapporo while people give them weird looks—Futaba, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks, and Ryuji, refusing to ever let his emotions make things worse for everyone else again.

—

When they get back to the RV, each of them emotionally exhausted, Ryuji goes to kiss the top of Akira’s head. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Akira looks up from his card game with Morgana and Sophia. “You look like you had a wild night. Ann take you all somewhere fun?”

“Totally,” he says, sliding the letter back in his backpack. “Best night ever.”

“Take me next time. Sophia’s kicking our ass.”

“She is not!” Morgana denies, tail swishing. “Just a little,” he relents.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” Ryuji announces, hiking his backpack on his shoulders and heading out, before running into Ann outside.

“Oh my god,” she says, disturbed. “He really, really doesn’t know.”

“Yup,” he moves past her. “And we’re keeping it that way.”

[midnightsnyx]

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 6

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child. 

a/n: well... here it is lol 2(or 3?) weeks late. sorry for the wait, this chapter was just a bitch to write and every time i thought i was done, i wasn’t happy with it & i didn’t wanna post just for the sake of posting. but i stayed up until 2 a.m. to finish this, so technically it is sunday so im posting on schedule lol

im not sure how many parts are left to this story, maybe two or three + an epilogue but i haven’t decided yet. 

also, this gif made me feel things 😂

word count: 2.1k (i wish they were longer too but im doing the best i can😩)

warnings: none other than a couple swear words

Part 6

29 weeks

“What are you doing?”

“Researching how to murder someone and get away with it.” You mutter, typing where to buy a tiger in Google.

Becca gives you a wary look and sits next to you. “Everything okay?”

“No!” You groan in frustration, tossing your phone on the coffee table. “Matthew is driving me insane.”

She frowns. “Is he being an ass?”

“He’s being nice. Too nice.” You grumble, ignoring when Becca chuckles. “It’s like he’s trying to make up for missing the doctor’s appointment even though I told him I forgive him.”

Becca raises an eyebrow at you and you try to ignore her pointed look. “Do you though?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask defensively.

“You’re different around him now and I’m sure he’s noticed. It’s like you don’t trust him.”

You start to deny her accusation but stop to think about it. Were you more cautious around Matt lately? You certainly didn’t let yourself depend on him for things that you had been before, too afraid that he would let you down. You wanted to, but there was a nagging voice in the back of your mind reminding you that he’s let you down before and there’s always a chance he will again.

It’s as if Becca can read your mind because she shrugs. “You should be honest with him.”

However, something you’ve learned recently is that too much honestly can get you in trouble.

. . .

Sending Matt a text that said we need to talk, probably wasn’t the best approach because it took him approximately fifteen minutes to show up at your apartment and his is a half hour drive away from yours.

So his windblown hair and wide eyes really weren’t a surprise when you opened your front door.

“So, I think I should have worded that text a little better.”

“You think?” He huffs, walking past you when you step aside. He doesn’t even bother to take his shoes or jacket off, walking straight to the living room and turning to look at you.

“I’m sorry. For whatever I did.” He says and you groan.

“That’s the problem! Stop being sorry for things. It’s driving me nuts.”

He frowns and looks at you in confusion. “So… you don’t want me to be sorry for things?”

“I don’t want you to not be sorry for things, I just want you to stop being sorry for everything. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells around me.”

“I’m just trying to make-”

“Make up for missing the appointment.” you say, finishing his sentence. “I know.” your hand falls to your stomach and you sigh. “We’re going to be parents in less than three months. We need to start trusting each other.”

Matt slowly walks over to you and reaches out for your hand which you let him hold. His thumb rubs across the back of it and he nods.

“You’re right.”

You grin and lightly punch his shoulder with your free hand. “Of course I am. When am I ever wrong?”

He smiles, pulling you in for a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You ignore the way it makes your heart race because the last thing you need right now is your feelings for him to get even more confusing when you’re both finally on the same page.

Things are good now and you can’t risk messing it up.

. . .

31 weeks

He’s like a kid in a candy store, you’ve realized as you follow Matt around buy buy BABY. He has two carts, one already stocked full of things and the other slowly being filled. You stopped keeping count of how much everything costed an hour ago because the number started to make you queasy.

“He has enough clothes, Matty.” You whine, taking note of how Matt trips over his feet when you call him by that nickname. “and he’ll grow out of them before he even gets a chance to wear them.”

“Last one, I swear.” He says, holding up an outfit. “C’mon, how fucking cute is he going to look in this?”

“If his first word is a swear word, I’m going to kill you.” You mutter, taking the outfit from him and tossing it in the cart. Matt just grins and rests a hand on your stomach, hoping the baby will kick.

“How’s Joey?”

“Grayson is doing just fine.”

“We’re never going to come to an agreement on a name, are we?” he asks and you smile sweetly.

“Nope.”

He laughs and starts walking towards the checkouts.

“Did my mom tell you that they’re coming to visit?” He asks and you nod, recalling your conversation with Chantal. She’d called you first to make sure you were okay with the entire Tkachuk clan showing up. She knows how stressful pregnancy is and didn’t want to overwhelm you.

But you were ecstatic when she asked if it was okay for them to visit. You’ve grown to depend on her for any pregnancy questions over the past seven months and even when you needed some regular advice for everyday things, you sometimes texted her.

“Yeah, it’s Wednesday, right?”

Matt nods, smiling politely at the cashier as he starts loading every thing on the conveyor belt. You can tell that she’s a hockey fan by the way her eyes light up when she recognizes who he is.

“I’ve been meaning to ask if you can pick them up from the airport?” He asks, catching you off guard. “Their plane lands around noon and I won’t be back until later that night and I don’t really want them to have to take a cab.”

You’re a little surprised that he’s asking you to do this instead of paying someone or asking a close friend to do it instead. It’s an odd feeling, realizing that he trusts you with his family.

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You tell him and his smile warms you to the bone.

. . .

You show up to the airport forty-five minutes early because you can’t decide if you should wait in the SUV for Matt’s family, or meet them in the airport. Would it be weird to wait for them inside like you would with your own friends or family? You double check your phone to make sure that Matt did tell them it was you picking them up because how weird would it be if they were expecting him only to find you waiting.

You’re definitely over thinking it but you find yourself standing at the gates when their plane lands.

Chantal is the first person you see and her face lights up and she scurries over to you, pulling you in for a soft hug.

“Oh, look at you!” She gushes, taking your hands in hers and holding you at arms length. “You’re glowing.”

Glowing isn’t exactly the word you would use because as much as you tried to look nice to pick them up, you’re still seven months pregnant, sweating because of the jacket you have on and most definitely are wearing odd shoes because you can no longer see your feet and Matt wasn’t here to check for you.

But you blush nonetheless, letting Keith, Taryn, and Brady hug you before starting to walk to baggage claim.

“Thank you for picking us up.” Chantal says and you smile.

“It’s nothing,” you say, brushing it off. “You’ve done a lot for me.”

“Anything I can do to help. I know how hard it is being pregnant with your man travelling a lot.”

You want to correct her when she calls Matt your man, but you don’t want to be impolite so you just nod.

“Speaking of your man,” Brady says in a teasing voice, “what time does he get in, again?”

“Around 8.” You say, ignoring the teasing tone and changing the subject to ask Taryn how school is going. You know you’ll hear more comments about the nature of your relationship with Matt from his brother but for now, you chat with Taryn and Chantal about plans for the baby.

. . .

Matt gave you a key to his apartment when you both realized that you spent more time at his these days then you did at your own so you don’t miss the knowing looks Chantal and Keith share when you use your key to unlock Matt’s apartment. You know they can tell it’s your key and not Matt’s because he painted it your favourite colour when he gave it to you.

“So do we get a sneak peak of the nursery?” Taryn asks hopefully and you nod, gesturing for her to follow you. Matt turned one of the guest rooms in to the nursery in his apartment. You haven’t done anything with yours yet because you and Matt were starting to wonder if after the baby is born, at least for a little while, the two of you should just live together. It would certainly make things much easier.

“It’s beautiful.” Chantal says, and you can see her eyes watering a little.

“We’re going to put up letters spelling his name above the crib.”

“Oh yeah, have you guys decided on a name yet?” Keith asks, testing the sturdiness of the crib by wiggling it a little.

“No.” You mutter. “We can’t agree on anything.”

“You’ll find something you both love eventually.” Chantal reassures you. “Now, please tell me my son has food in his fridge, because I’m going to cook dinner.”

You grin, realizing that she too knows how bad Matt is at keeping his fridge stocked. Before you started spending so much time here, you would be lucky if he had eggs in the fridge.

. . .

Matt arrives home just as dinner is cooked and you get to witness what a typical Tkachuk night must look like. There’s lots of chirps thrown but you can tell how close this family is and how much they care about each other. Especially when it comes to Matt and his mom and sister. He treats them like gold and it warms your heart to see it.

After dinner, you volunteer to clean up and you’re surprised when Keith offers to help. You’ve only spoken to him a few times before today and you don’t feel as close to him as you do with Chantal so it’s quiet while the two of you clear up the dishes.

Keith breaks the silence after a couple minutes, turning to look at you.

“I know Matthew can be a handful… but don’t give up on him, okay?”

You’re surprised to hear this coming from Keith because you were truthfully expecting Taryn or Brady to say something about it. Every time you and Matthew touched or spoke to each other, you noticed the knowing looks and soft smiles from the other Tkachuk family members.

It was like they knew something that neither you nor Matthew did.

You’re not sure what exactly to say so you just nod.

“I won’t.” You promise, realizing that you truly mean it.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch 14- Compromise

Summary: Frank is besides himself due to their argument, and Fliss isn’t faring much better…

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW, no under 18s…)

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 13

Me and you, what's going on? All we seem to know is how to show the feelings that are wrong. So don't go away, say what you say, but say that you'll stay, forever and a day in the time of my life 'Cause I need more time, yes, I need more time, just to make things right.

As soon as he had left the room, Frank was overcome with guilt at what he had said. He had never spoken to Fliss like that before but his temper had just snapped. He hesitated at the first step of the staircase, debating going back to apologise but as he did so he heard Alex's cries die down to a sniffle so he left well alone. She'd calmed him and the last thing he wanted to do was go back in there and upset everyone again.

Instead, he made his way upstairs and climbed back into bed, waiting for her to come back up, only she never did. He lay awake for another hour or so before his eyes could no longer stay open, but a mere 2 hours after finally succumbing to sleep, Frank was woken by his alarm and Fliss’ side of the bed was still empty.

He found her stretched out on the sofa, the throw blanket pulled over her body. Another pang of guilt washed over him as he walked over, brushing the hair off her face to see her eyes rimmed with red. Shaking his head at himself he swallowed and dropped a kiss to her forehead before he checked on Alex who was fast asleep in his pack and play. Then, as quietly as he could, he put on a pot of coffee and went to wake Mary for school, that horrible sick, anxious feeling gnawing at his insides.

By the time they both made their way back downstairs, dressed and ready for the day, Fliss had woken and was feeding Alex. She looked up and her eyes locked onto Frank's before she turned to Mary and gave a tired smile, wishing her good morning.

"Liss, do you want any breakfast?" Frank knew his first words to her since the argument should have been an apology but with Mary in the room he was trying to keep everything calm.

“No thanks." She replied, perfectly politely "I'll get something later. Once he's fed I'm going to go upstairs and try and get some sleep."

"Okay." He nodded, turning to Mary. “What about you short stack? Cereal, toast..."

"Do we have any waffles?"

"Errrr..." Frank turned to the cupboard, not sure whether they did or not but then Fliss spoke.

"Yeah they're in the bread tin." She informed "I got you some more the other day."

"You're the best Lissy." Mary grinned, settling on the chair round the breakfast bar.

Fliss gave a soft chuckle and looked down at Alex who seemed to have stopped feeding. Frank watched as she rearranged her sleep top to wind him her eyes still not meeting his.

"Can Rosie come stay this Saturday?" Mary asked and Frank's eyes turned to her.

"As in sleep over?"

Mary nodded. Frank turned to Fliss who looked at him and shrugged.

"It's fine by me." She said.

Mary grinned and then she paused. “Oh, we said we would check Monty this morning to make sure he wasn't stiff after yesterday."

"Already done." Fliss assured her. "Jo fed this morning and sent me a message. She turned him out to pasture for the day and his legs are fine. I suggest you let him have today and tomorrow off so he can rest then maybe me and you can take him and Heidi down to the trail ride on Wednesday after school."

Mary beamed. “That sounds great."

They finished breakfast. It remained quiet between Frank and Fliss but civil. However, when he left for work be bent down as normal to peck her goodbye and she turned her head so he caught her cheek. All things considered he couldn't blame her, so he didn't make a fuss about it. Instead he picked up his keys, walked Mary down to the bus for school and then headed to work.

**** Fliss didn't go back to bed. She couldn't. Instead she dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, and went over to the yard for an hour or so to chat to Joanne and look at the lessons scheduled for that week.

"Has the Friday afternoon class been cancelled?" Fliss frowned.

"Just for this week." Jo, who was enjoying cuddles with Alex, looked at her nodding. "I’m off this weekend for my sister's wedding and Olivia can't cover the teaching. The Yard is covered though, we got the yard hands and..."

"Hey, Jo, it’s okay. I trust you." Fliss smiled. "And I'd completely forgotten about the wedding. Are you excited?"

Joanne smiled. "Yeah. It’s going to be awesome. She has a fantastic live band playing and it’s been months since I went back to Atlanta."

Fliss smiled "Why don't you take a few more days? You deserve it. You've worked so hard the last 6 months and you should take the time to spend with your family."

"Oh no, I can't..."

"Yes you can." Fliss cut off her protests and looked at her "Between me, Olivia and the stable hands we can cope. You're already off until Wednesday. Just take a week."

"That...that would be amazing." Jo smiled "thank you so much."

Fliss shrugged, "its fine..."

At that Alex gave a little murmur which Fliss knew all too well was a threat he was going to cry so she gestured for Joanne to hand him back. He pressed his face into her neck, his tiny nose brushing against her skin and she gave a soft smile, kissing his head.

"He's adorable." Joanne smiled and Fliss beamed at her.

"Yeah..." she tipped her head to look at him. “Yeah he is."

She studied her baby’s profile for a moment, noticing not for the first time,  just how like his father he was, before she shook herself back to the here and now. "I'll take Friday's afternoon lessons. Call everyone who was booked on and offer them back a place."

"Are you sure?' Joanne frowned "I mean..."

"It’s an hour." Fliss shrugged. “My mum will watch him or he can nap in the office. It’s cool enough with the AC unit on, and the baby monitor is wired to my phone.”

"Ok, you're the boss" Joanne nodded.

"At least you recognise that." Fliss mumbled.

"Huh?" Joanne frowned and Fliss shook her head

"Nothing, ignore me." She sighed "Okay, I'm gonna take Thor for a quick walk down the pasture path and head home. I'll be over later to ride Cap. I'll feed so you can take an early finish"

Jo smiled "That would be great, I'll make sure it’s all ready."

Fliss smiled before she placed Alex in the stroller and she pushed him over the yard towards the path that led down to the various fields the horses were in. She walked, Thor running ahead slightly, sniffing at any interesting smells he found, the wheels of the stroller gently bounced on the bumpy dirt track. Fliss smiled as her old faithful mare gave a loud whinny and came trotting to her field gate to say hello.

"Hey Hides." Fliss reached out to stroke her nose "How you doing?"

She watched as Heidi bent her neck to take a look at the tiny person in the stroller before Alex gave a wiggle and the horse jumped back slightly, giving a snort. Fliss chuckled. “You daft sod." She reached out and gave her neck a scratch before the sound of her phone ringing made her reach for it. "Hi Bonnie."

"Oh my God Fliss, I nearly called you last night but it was late when we got back and..." her best friend instantly rambled on and Fliss grinned as she had a feeling she knew what she was going to say "...but Simon asked me to marry him this weekend and I said yes!"

"Bonnie that’s amazing!" Fliss beamed as she held the phone to her ear "I’m so happy for you and I need all the details!"

"It’s such a long story but we went for a meal in this gorgeous restaurant on Times Square and afterwards as we were walking back through central park he got down on one knee and…” Bonnie gave a sigh “He made me cry.” Fliss gave a little chuckle “Oh babes, that’s fantastic!”

“We’ve not told the rest of the gang yet, Simon thought we could all go out on Friday and do it properly if you’re up for it?”

Fliss hesitated. She had been about to accept, but with the way things were between her and Frank, she wasn’t sure what was going to be happening that evening, let alone the weekend.

"Fliss?" Bonnie's voice hit her ear "you still there?"

"Yeah sorry...was just...it doesn't matter. Friday sounds great."

"Are you okay?" Bonnie asked.

"Nothing to worry about. Just had an argument with Frank but we'll sort it out, we always do."

"What about?"

"Me going back to work." Fliss shook her head. “But honestly, don't worry. I certainly don't wanna drag your good mood down or eat up your break."

“You're not." Bonnie assured her "I got 10 minutes. Lord knows you put up with my complaints often enough."

Fliss took a deep breath and explained to Bonnie inlarge handfuls so as not to swamp her with details and when she reached the bit about Frank calling her a bitch Bonnie took a sharp inhale of breath.

"Oh Fliss..." she sighed "Sounds like you both said a few things you didn't mean."

"I know." Fliss said quietly, feeling the tears sting her eyes "I just don't see why he can't see it from my point of view."

"Can you see it from his?" Bonnie challenged.

“You mean understand why he wants me to be a stay at home mom?"

"That's not what I got from that." Bonnie placated her softly "Not at all. He just wants you to take some time. Having a baby is a huge thing, Liss. It takes time to adjust. I think Frank is worried if you rush you'll burn out."

Fliss stayed silent, Bonnie's words slowly sinking in.

"I get your point of view, you want to get back to normal but...well, I kinda see his too." Bonnie said gently, and then a bell sounded on the other end of the phone. "I gotta go Fliss but...just talk to him, and listen. I mean really listen. If you need me later give me a call."

“Thanks Bon...oh and congratulations again. I'm so happy for you." Fliss changed to subject, focusing on the reason her best friend had called in the first place. “Oh, and send me a photo of your diamond! I wanna see it!"

***** Frank tapped at the keyboard, scanning the list of jobs, his mind whirring. He needed something physical to do today, to keep his mind off thinking about what an asshole he’d been last night and early this morning. As he realised all the repair jobs had been allocated, he gave a low growl of frustration.

“You alright, Frank?”

His head jerked up from the screen and he looked at Alan who was leaning on the door frame.

“Yeah, I just fancied doing a repair or something today but they’re all booked out.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“You bored of management already?” Alan teased and Frank gave a shake of his head.

“No, just…well to be honest I could do with the distraction.” He said, dragging his hand over his face.

“From the look of you, you could do with a good sleep too.” Alan mused, stepping into the office.

“You’re not wrong.” Frank mumbled. “That little pup of yours keeping you awake?”

“Something like that.” Frank looked at the screen before he looked up at Alan “What are you doing here anyway? Thought you and the Mrs were off to Toronto?”

“We fly tomorrow.” Alan looked at Frank, cocking his head to one side. “Frank, are you sure you’re okay buddy?”

Frank leaned back in his chair letting out a heavy breath. “Had an argument with Fliss last night, I didn’t sleep well. Breakfast this morning wasn’t particularly friendly.”

“Ah.” Alan said, closing the door behind him as he sat down in the chair on the opposite side of Frank’s desk. “A bad argument or…”

“Bad enough for me to end up calling her a bitch.” Frank shook his head, looking down at the desk. “Which I’m not proud of, believe me.”

“We all say shit we don’t mean in the heat of the moment.” Alan said wisely “Christ, if I had a dollar for every time me and Annette had hurled abuse at one another, well I’d have six of these damned shops instead of just one.”

Frank gave a small smile, before his face slipped again and he glanced at his boss. “Her ex used to call her names like that, and…”

“Hey, woah.” Alan looked at him, cutting him off. “I’ve heard all about that shit bag from Bill and I can tell you right now Frank, you are not that guy.”

Frank took a deep breath, licking his lips.

“It’s really bothering you isn’t it?” Alan cocked his head to one side and Frank raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not like we’ve argued before, I mean hell, we’ve had some pretty big disagreements in the past, but…” He let out a deep breath. “This just, I dunno. It’s the first time she ever frustrated me enough to make me say such a shitty thing.”

“Well, ” Alan leaned back, “that’s what being in love does to you pal. We lash out at the people we care about most, because they frustrate the fuck out of us and we don’t know how else to deal with it.”

Frank pondered his words for a moment. He loved Fliss beyond what he felt anyone could comprehend and sometimes, like yesterday, when they argued it became a frustration because he didn’t want to argue with her. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that everything would always be hearts and roses, but at the same time he was sappy enough to want it to be. And when it wasn’t, it bugged the fuck out of him because he was so consumed by this utter love for the woman he wanted to share the rest of his life with, he sometimes didn’t know how to react when they fought. He appeased her most of the time, because it was easier, but damned it last night she spiked something inside him with her inability to listen to the point he was trying to make.

Fuck, he had to make this right. He couldn’t spend the rest of the day in some kind of stupid, angry limbo. He looked at Alan and took a deep breath.

“Any chance I can have the afternoon off?” He hopefully asked. “See if I can go and sort this mess out.”

Alan smiled “Hey, you’re the boss now. Do what you want. Book it as leave or make the hours up, whatever.”

“Thanks.” Frank smiled at him. “I appreciate it.”

Alan nodded and stood up. “Oh, before I go, the reason I actually came to see you was that we had an enquiry the other day about a sale. From someone you might know.”

“Oh?” Frank asked, looking at Alan. “Who was it?”

“Jon Gruden.” Alan smiled and Frank felt his mouth drop open.

“No shit!” He grinned before he paused “What the fuck does he want with a boat? I thought he lived in Nevada.”

“Well, apparently when he isn’t coaching the Raiders he’s residing in his second home in Tampa.” Alan shrugged “And he wants a boat. I figured given your love for football you might fancy handling that one yourself.”

“Absolutely.” Frank grinned “Thanks Alan.”

“No problems, he’s gonna call to arrange an appointment. Now get yourself off and sort things with your Mrs.”

Frank nodded “I’ll do my best.”

Alan gave him another smile and left the office, leaving the door open. Frank leaned back once more, before he reached for his phone which was laying on the desk, smiling at the photo he had taken just yesterday afternoon at Mary’s show. Mary was grinning ear to ear as she sat atop of Monty, Fliss stood by her side, Alex in her arms arranged so he too was facing the camera. He’d changed the screensaver over immediately after taking it, he’d loved the damned shot that much.

He scrolled through to his key contacts and flicked the green call button by the side of Fliss’ name. The phone rang out a few times, and for a horrible moment he thought she was going to ignore him, but then the dial tone stopped.

"Hi." Her tone was flat.

"Hey, where are you?" He paused and grimaced. Fuck, it sounded like he was checking up on her and he hastily started to try to explain. "Not that it matters, I was asking because-.." 

"I’m just out walking with Thor and Alex down the fields." She cut him off, her tone maintaining neutral. He supposed he should be thankful she wasn’t ranting at him. 

"Okay. Well I'm coming home." He informed her.

"Why?" her voice was puzzled. 

"Because I can't concentrate, Lissy" He sighed. "I hate being at odds with you. I just... " He swallowed thickly and rubbed his eye, tiredly. "I wanna make it right so, I'm taking the afternoon off and I'm hoping we can talk?"

There was silence on the other end, other than a bark from Thor and then he heard her sniffle a little, her reply quiet. "Yeah. Okay."

"Oh, honey. Don't cry." Frank sighed softly, the lump in his throat growing bigger. “Please, this whole thing is a huge shit misunderstanding.”

"I know, I just..." She took a deep breath. "I'll see you in half an hour or so" And with that she hung up.

Frank tossed the phone back onto his desk, tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair before he stood up, turned off his laptop and retrieved the keys to his truck from the drawer of his desk. He strode out into the shop floor, instructed his Team Leader to call him if there was an emergency, otherwise he was unavailable for the rest of the afternoon. **** Fliss stood looking at the screen on her phone, the photo of Frank, Mary and Alex looking back up at her. She swallowed a little, but before she could think about what Frank had said any more a WhatsApp message came through from Bonnie. It was a picture of her ring. It was a fairly large, brilliant cut diamond solitaire, set into an elaborately twisted white gold band. It was stunning, and exactly Bonnie’s style.

She tapped a message out telling Bonnie it was gorgeous before she shoved the phone in the back pocket of her cut- off jeans and then glanced at her own engagement ring on her left hand, watching as it caught the sunlight, looking even more shiny and sparkly than usual. She adored the design of it. It was delicate, nothing like the hideously large one John had given her. Frank had put a lot of thought into the type of thing she would like, as opposed to simply picking something to show off how much he could afford. It was all about her. As Alex made a small noise from the pram she instinctively reached down with her right hand to softly rub at his chest, an action the baby found soothing. As she did, her new ring, her 'Push Present' as Bonnie and Roberta called it caught her eye. It was an emerald cut sapphire, very similar in size and shape to the stone in her engagement ring, and it was set into a simple plain white gold band. Frank had given it to her at the hospital just before they brought Alex home. "Blue for a boy.” He'd smiled as she'd beamed up at him before kissing him softly and thanking him for being such a thoughtful, soft sap.

But that was her sailor all over. A thoughtful, soft sap that was so distraught at having called her a bitch he was taking the afternoon off work because he couldn't concentrate until he'd made things right.

Fuck, Bonnie was right. She'd gotten Frank's intentions here all wrong. So very wrong.

Yes, he had shocked her. To be honest, she wasn’t sure Frank even had it in him to call her a name like he did, but now she realised that she hadn't made things easy for him. She'd never, ever dared answer John back the way she did Frank as it would result in her getting a beating, and as such, if she was perfectly honest with herself, she struggled with the whole debating side of things. When challenged and unable to articulate her answer in the way she wanted she reverted to silence, in a lot of ways it felt easier and safer. And when pushed she lashed out simply for the reason that sometimes she didn't know what else to do. But the stupid thing was, the fact she felt able to go on the defensive showed just how safe she was with Frank.

Because the worst thing he had ever done, and would ever do was call her a name out of pure frustration.

He shouldn't have called her what he did. That was a given, but in the grand scheme of things, as she knew only too well, there were far worse things he could do. But he never would. Because he loved her and he wasn't that type of man. He'd die before he hurt a single hair on her head, on any of their heads for that matter.

She glanced at Alex, where he lay, his bright blue eyes looking up at her and she wiped her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Shall we head back and make your daddy some lunch, baby boy?"

She gave a sharp whistle and Thor bounded back to her and the three of them made their way home. Alex was fast asleep when they got back, so Fliss kicked off her sneakers at the door and parked the stroller in the cool of the family room, heading towards the kitchen area. She set about making a quick penne arabiata and a salad and had just finished setting two places at the breakfast bar when Frank walked in the door. Immediately his eyes flicked her hers and she gave him a small smile.

“Hi.” He greeted her, softly, before his attention turned to his sleeping son. He gently brushed a finger down his cheek before he looked back at Fliss. There was a moment where the two of them simply stared at each other, before Fliss was the first one to move, walking out of the kitchen area. He met her half way, wrapping his arms around her as she pressed her face into his black polo-collared T-shirt.

“I’m sorry.” Frank stuttered, screwing his face up as he lay his cheek on her hair, breathing in her shampoo “Baby, I’m so fuckin’ sorry;”

“Me too.” She sniffed. “I hate it when we fight Frankie.”

“I know, I don’t like it either.” He pulled back a little to cup her face, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “I was out of order calling you what I did. I’m so disgusted in myself honey, I can’t…”

“Hey.” She reached up to touch his face, her fingers brushing his stubble “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.” Frank swallowed thickly “I just…” he trailed off as he shook his head and she smiled up at him.

“Frank, we both said shit we didn’t mean.” She sighed “I called you an asshole, you know, it’s not okay for me to say those things either.”

“I know, but…”

“No buts.” She insisted, standing on her toes to lightly brush her lips against his. “Come on, I made lunch.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” He said softly as she laced her fingers with his and led him to the place at the bar.

“I wanted to.” She shrugged “Call it a peace offering. That and I was fucking starving.”

Frank snorted “Should have known there was an ulterior motive.”

“You wanna eat your food or wear it?” Fliss asked, shooting him a look as he settled down on the stool. Frank chuckled and watched her as she placed the salad dish down on the side before resting the pasta dish on the heat mat that was on the counter. She turned back to the fridge, Frank simply drinking her in as she bent over slightly, the pure domesticity of the scene washing over him as she padded bare foot back towards him, two beers in her hands.

She placed one down and sat next to him, Frank dishing out their food and they silently tucked in, but the silence was a comfortable one in contrast to the dinner they’d shared the night before, and the tense breakfast that morning. Franks left hand gently gave her right knee a soft squeeze and she smiled at him, before she reached for her drink and took a large pull.

“So, we gonna talk about stuff?” She asked, taking the final bite of her lunch before she placed her cutlery down on her empty plate. “I promise I won’t fly off the handle this time.”

Frank took a deep breath and swallowed his last mouthful of food before he licked his lips “Okay.” He nodded. “Lissy, I never said I didn’t want you to work. Yeah, maybe there was a small part of me that loves this.” He said, waving his hand between them. “The idea of just coming home and you being here but I know that’s not what you want, and I’d never, ever dream of making you give up everything you’ve worked for just because of some weird domestic fantasy I have, which for the record, really freaks me the fuck out.”

“What do you mean?” Fliss asked.

“I never in a million years ever dreamed I’d have something like this, someone like you.” He looked at her. “You saw past that utter fuck up I was back then and took me for who I was, Mary too…we made a life together, you gave me the most beautiful gift anyone ever could that’s currently snoring over there in his stroller.”

Fliss looked at him, the tears filling her eyes as he continued.

“I never thought I’d ever get here. A family, a home, and a job that means I can provide for you all.” he swallowed a little, as he shook his head “I’m not explaining this very well.”

“I get it.”  Fliss looked at him, “I do Frank, because I never thought I’d ever have this either.” She reached out and took his hand which was resting on the counter top, squeezing his fingers in hers “It’s so mundane, its normal and it’s such a stupid thing to be grateful for, but every time that door goes and you come home, I feel happiness instead of fear about what mood you’re going to be in and whether or not it means I’m gonna get a kicking.”

Frank bowed his head, shaking it softly as his hand tightened around hers. “Lissy, don’t…”

“It’s true.” She said gently “And last night, earlier this morning when you accused me of likening you to John, I want you to know there’s not a single time, ever, that I’ve done that. Because you’re nothing like him. And me accusing you of trying to control me was a low blow. I know that’s not what you were doing.”

“I just want you to take time, not to rush things.” Frank looked at her. “But if going back to work and expanding is what you really wanna do then…” “No, it’s not.” She shook her head “Well, it is but you’re right. I was over there before with Joanne looking at the diary and it would be too much. I don’t want to miss out on Alex growing up. I mean, God, every morning I wake up and I swear he’s changed in the hours we’ve been asleep.”

Frank chuckled “I know. Before we know it he’ll be walking, talking and answering us back…”

“Don’t.” Fliss groaned as she shook her head smiling “But you were right, so many women would kill to be in my position. So, I thought maybe I could go back first of all, just do maybe one day a week teaching and a couple of evenings where I finish off for Joanne. I can do the rest of the stuff like the publicity and organising, emails that type of stuff from home. And, when he’s a little older then I can work my way back up to more.”

“A compromise.” Frank smiled and Fliss shrugged.

“Yeah, I can be reasonable at times.”

“Sounds good to me.” Frank nodded

“Good, because I’m covering a lesson on Friday.” She smirked and Frank gave a snort, shaking his head. “Just one, for an hour or so. Joanne’s away this week and I don’t want to let the clients down.”

“You don’t need to explain.” Frank shook his head.

“And I want to buy the land.” Fliss finished, looking at him. “Just so it belongs to Sandybrook. We can use it for grazing, maybe even a grass jumping paddock, just until we’re ready to start thinking about expanding.”

“Okay.” Frank nodded “Make the call, put an offer in.”

She leaned over and gave him a quick peck. “Thank you.” She whispered against his mouth before she stood up to clear the breakfast bar down.

“I’ll do that.” He stood up, “You cooked so…”

“It won’t take me long” she shrugged “Honestly I don’t mind.” “Are we gonna have an argument now about who does the dishes?” He teased and she let out a soft laugh.

“No, because they’re going in Dusty.”

“You know, I never met anyone who named a dishwasher before.” Frank shook his head as he moved to grab a tupperware container to place the left over pasta in.

“Well he’s an important part of our life.” Fliss said seriously “I couldn’t cope without him.” 

Frank chuckled as he ladled the pasta into the container, snapping the lid shut before he haphazardly slung it in the fridge. He moved behind Fliss, his arms circling her waist as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Why don’t we go out Friday night? Mary’s going to Roberta’s, I’m sure your mom and dad would watch Alex for us.”

“We can’t…” Fliss said suddenly and Frank gave a groan.

“Why not? Come on we haven’t been out together since before he was born. We can grab dinner, a few drinks. It’ll be fun.”

“There might be something planned.” Fliss tossed the cloth she’d been wiping the place they’d just eaten down with into the sink.

“Oh?” he frowned, and she turned in his arms, looking up at him.

“I got a call from Bonnie before, Simon finally got down on one knee.” “Huh, no kidding!” Frank grinned, before he pouted slightly “The little shit never told me.”

“Yeah well, she said that they were thinking of going out on Friday, all of us and telling everyone then so…”

Frank pondered for a moment before he suddenly had an idea “So, how about we grab an earlier dinner and meet them after.” He reasoned before he raised his eyebrows. “There’s another compromise.”

Fliss chuckled, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers lacing together behind his neck “Yeah, we’re getting kinda good at this.”

“I know something else we’re kinda good at too.” He gave her a cheeky wink and she scoffed, arching an eyebrow.

“You’re a dirt bag.” She mumbled as his head dropped towards hers.

“Oh Dahlin, you love it.” He muttered, his lips pressing to hers. As the kiss deepened, Frank’s hands moved gently round to her back, one splaying at the base of her spine, the other sliding in her hair as their tongues tangled in the familiar yet oh so damned good dance. With a grin he reached down, hooked his hands under her thighs and lifted her easily, setting her on the counter in front of him. She smirked a little against his lips and Frank gave a chuckle, the kiss resuming, her legs hooking round his waist and she pulled him closer, causing him to grunt a little.

“You want something, pretty girl?” He teased, pulling back a little.

Fliss bit her lip, her hands sliding up his arms. “Yeah, can you go to the garage and maybe smear a bit of oil or motor grease onto your arms. Maybe a bit on your cheek?”

“You have an unhealthy obsession with dirt, you know that?” He looked at her and she shook her head.

“No, I have an unhealthy obsession with dirt on you.” She corrected, her arms once more round his neck. “I totally loathe Alex’s nappy changes, for the record.”

Frank snorted “Yeah, they’re not great. Just wait till he starts solids.”

“Yeah, okay stop talking shit Frank and fuck me.”

“Talking shit.” He mused, completely ignoring her request despite the fucking hotwire it had sent to his already half erect cock “I see what you did there.” “Whatever, get on with the other part.”

“Which was?” he teased.

She looked at him, realising instantly he was playing around so she smirked a little and leaned forward, her lips brushing his ear. “Fuck me, Adler.”

“But I’m not covered in dirt.” He titled his head, his lips ghosting hers.

Fliss paused, her eyes flicking around before she grinned a she spotted the dirty pasta dish to the side of her. In flash she wiped her finger round the edge of the dish and smeared the tomato sauce straight across his cheek and down his beard.

“Now you are.” She looked at him, as he stared at her in shock, open mouthed before he gave a scoff.

“You want me to fuck you Cowgirl, you’re gonna have to lick that off my face.”

Her eyes locked onto his, she stuck her finger in her mouth sucking it clean and his eyes darkened a little as she released it with a loud pop and gave a shrug. Her hand tangled in his hair as she pulled his head towards her and gently placed her mouth against his face, sucking and licking at the offending food, making her way down his cheek to his jaw line, where she continued her affections. Frank gave a sigh, tipping his head slightly to give her more access as she skated across his short whiskers to the other side, her kisses trailing back upwards before her mouth caught his again.

“God I fahking love you.” He mumbled, his arms pulling her closer.

“Yeah?” She asked as his hands gripped at her hips.

“Yeah.” He nodded standing in between her legs, his mouth dropping to her neck. She rolled her head back, as he nipped at her pulse-point, before his lips moved to that hollow at the bottom of her throat, his beard scratching her skin as mouth traced a path up her neck, back up to hers and he kissed her hard. His hands moved to pop the button on her jeans before he gently grasped at the waistband and she shifted to allow him to pull them down over her legs, tossing them to one side. His hands slipped up underneath the blue top she was wearing, pulling down the cups of her bra, thumbs gently teased at her nipples, all the time listening to the soft noises and groans she was making as he continued, his nose brushing against hers, smiling softly.

“You like that?” He whispered, knowing full well that she did, but he knew she also liked his soft dirty talk and she gave a sigh and a nod, followed by a little squeak as he shifted her underwear to one side and pushed two fingers insider her.

Her head fell forward onto his shoulder as her hands grasped at his back through his T-shirt, and as he continued to stroke and coax her she bit down on his neck causing him to hiss slightly at the bite of pain.

“Need you.” She purred into his ear. “Please.”

And when she asked like that, he was always powerless to refuse. This woman was his absolute weakness.

He moved his head to kiss her again, and removing his hand from her panties he reached up and pulled them down before he stood up, and she reached for the button and zip on his jeans. Once she’d gotten them open, she pushed them down, over his slim hips as Frank’s hands moved to her back and he gently pulled her forwards, sliding her towards him, letting her feel how ready he was. She reached down and gently gave his hard cock a pump up and down and he let out a groan as he pulled her off the counter slightly, her legs wrapping around his waist, arms round his neck, her lower back resting against the side of the worktop both of them letting out a load moan of satisfaction as he pushed forward, all the way home.

Frank’s head dropped to Fliss’ shoulder, his mouth once more on the pulse point in her neck as he thrust into her, again and again, his hands on her back, keeping her supported slightly

“God you feel so good.” He mumbled, his lips moving back to hers as he set a pace that was torturously slow, and deep, and loving. Thrust after thrust he kept his lips either on hers or centimetres away, watching her intently as her pupils blew as he worked her up, driving into her, as deep as he could go, one hand resting at the back of her spine to keep her back from slamming into the harsh edge of the counter, the other guiding her head so he could kiss her, hard.

Her hands moved, the nails scraping lightly at the nape of his neck, and Frank felt himself falter for a split second at her touch.  

“Fuck, Baby.” He groaned into her mouth as she grinned cheekily, her hands sliding down to his bare ass.

“Harder.” She urged him on, her voice sultry, desperate for him to pick up the pace. So he obliged, giving her what she wanted.

Because he always did.

Fliss held on to his ass for dear life, moaning with her body arching in his hands, his hips hitting hers hard with every thrust and before long she let out a loud groan, her hands tightening on his skin as she cried out as he quickened his pace even more, causing her to gasp his name, a broken mumble of the word before she let out a breathless gasp, her voice catching in her throat as the world began to tip on its axis.

“Come on, come for me Lissy…” He whispered, his breath hot on her ear. And that was it, she dropped over the edge, her head falling back as her hands slid up and grasped tightly on the hem of his shirt as she clenched around him, again and again, groaning and trembling, powerless to stop her body’s reactions. It took him another couple of thrusts before he gave a soft “oh” of pleasure, her name tumbled from his mouth before he bit down on her shoulder softly, reacting his own end. He gave a few erratic thrusts, pumping with short, deep strokes which sent her over another peak, but this was feeble as she collapsed forward, her head laying on his shoulder, utterly spent. They stayed still for a moment, chests heaving as Frank holding Fliss close to him, as they both evened out from their high.

“Love you.” She whispered softly, kissing the tip of his nose causing him to smile, that cheeky smile he saved just for her before his lips met hers again “Good, because I love you too sweetheart, more than you could ever know.”

*****

Once they had tidied themselves up and finished sorting the kitchen out, Alex decided it was time for a feed. They settled on the couch, Fliss nursing their son, Frank's arm round her shoulder, fingers tracing shapes on the top of her arm simply watching Alex feed. When he was done, Frank took him, having missed his morning cuddles with his boy and the three of them sat on the couch, Frank resting his feet on the coffee table, knees pointing to the ceiling so Alex could lay flat against his thighs looking up at his parents. His tiny hands fisted around Frank’s index fingers and he flashed his momma and daddy several huge baby smiles as they talked to him, Fliss capturing the moments on her phone. It wasn't long before his eyes grew heavy and Fliss felt hers doing the same so they set their son down to nap before settling down for one themselves. Fliss shifted so her head was lay in Frank's lap, his hand gently carding through her hair as they both succumbed to the fact neither had slept much the night before. The two of them woke with a jolt an hour and a half later when Mary walked in the door. In the afternoons she was allowed to walk from the school bus stop on the main road because three other kids came the same way and she could peel off from them up the long drive. She looked at the pair of them as they blinked themselves out of sleep and shook her head, telling them both that only old people and babies napped during the day and she wasn’t sure which category they fell into.

Once she had fully come round, Fliss changed into her riding gear ready to head back to the yard and gave a small yell of victory when she managed to fasten the button on her breeches. She walked into the family room and grinned at Frank, pointing out the fact she was back into her pants, even if they were elasticated slightly, and he smirked, giving her ass a stinging slap.

"I prefer you out of them." He quipped, his hands locking at the base of her spine.

Fliss chuckled, her hands curling round his biceps. "And I prefer you dirty but we can’t always have what we want, Sailor."

Frank wrinkled his nose "I already have what I want, Cowgirl" Fliss let out a groan and shook her head as Frank laughed. "I was being serious."

"Course you were, smooth bastard." Fliss rolled her eyes as he shrugged, leaning down to give her a soft kiss.

"You two are gross." Mary mumbled as she walked past them on her way to the fridge to grab a juice box.

“Feel free to leave.” Frank shot at her, “I have the number of a good Children’s Home.”

“Whatever.” She said, her voice airy as she skipped over to the large window seat, hopping up and opening her laptop. 

By the end of the evening Fliss, however, had to concede Mary had a point. Frank had been particularly handsy all night, kissing her or touching her wherever he could. He was affectionate with her anyway, but he seemed to have stepped it up a notch for some reason. 

"What's gotten into you?" Fliss asked him gently when they were getting ready for bed. Frank had just gotten out of the shower and the first thing he'd done upon walking back into their bedroom was pull her in for a searing kiss.

"I just...” He et out a soft sigh, and looked at her a little sheepishly. "If I’m honest, I’m a little concerned you let me off far too easily before so I'm, I dunno, a little thankful I guess."

Fliss cocked her head to one side, her hands sliding up his arms and coming to rest on his shoulders which were speckled with drops of water. "Sailor, it wasn't a case of letting you off easily. I just get that I was wrong too. I was more hurt with what you called me because I know you and I know you meant well so for you to snap like that, I must have pushed you…”

Frank dropped his head giving a heavy sigh. "Sweetheart, that’s not an excuse…”

"Shh." She abruptly cut him off with a finger over his lips. "It’s done, you called me a bitch, I called you an asshole. No one died, no one got struck down by lightning. We move on, okay?"

Frank looked at her, a soft smile on his face. "I love you so faking much" "Well now I know that's true since you gone all Boston on me again." She grinned as his arms circled round her back, pulling her close. His nose gently brushed hers before their lips locked together and with a smirk, Fliss reached down between them and untucked the edge of the towel which was wrapped around his hips, causing it to fall to the floor.

"Whoops." She grinned into the kiss as she gently pivoted shoving Frank gently on the chest. The movement was enough that, coupled with the backs of his knees hitting the bed he fell backwards and sat down as Fliss scrambled over to straddle him.

"Yeah, see, there's only one problem with this scenario." Frank grinned, his hands grasping at the hem of her top as his mouth nipped at her jaw. "You're wearing too many clothes."

"Why don’t you do something about it?" She challenged, her voice a breathy whisper. So he did.

**** Chapter 15

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On Ch 14: Compromise

Summary: Frank is besides himself due to their argument, and Fliss isn’t faring much better…

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW, no under 18s…)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  Yeah, yeah, ok some of you were pretty mad at me at the end of the last chapter so I hope this makes up for it…

Chapter Song: Don’t Go Away by Oasis 

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

Me and you, what's going on? All we seem to know is how to show the feelings that are wrong.

So don't go away, say what you say, but say that you'll stay, forever and a day in the time of my life 'Cause I need more time, yes, I need more time, just to make things right

As soon as he had left the room, Frank was overcome with guilt at what he had said. He had never spoken to her like that before but his temper had just snapped. He hesitated at the first step of the staircase, debating going back to apologise but as he did so he heard Alex's cries die down to a sniffle so he left well alone. She'd calmed him and the last thing he wanted to do was go back in there and upset everyone again.

Instead he decided to head upstairs and wait for her to come back up, only she never did. He lay awake for another hour or so before his eyes could no longer stay open. But a mere 2 hours after finally succumbing to sleep he was woken by his alarm to find Fliss' side of the bed still empty.

He found her stretched out on the sofa, the throw blanket pulled over her body. Another pang of guilt washed over him as he walked over, brushing the hair off her face to see her eyes rimmed with red. Shaking his head at himself he swallowed and dropped a kiss to her forehead before he checked on Alex who was fast asleep. Then, as quietly as he could be put on a pot of coffee and went to wake Mary for school, that horrible sick, anxious feeling gnawing at his insides.

By the time they both made their way back down, dressed and ready for the day, Fliss had woken and was feeding Alex. She looked up and her eyes locked onto Frank's before she turned them to Mary and gave a tired smile, wishing her good morning.

"Liss, do you want any breakfast?" Frank knew his first words to her since the argument should have been an applogy but with Mary in the room he was trying to keep everything calm

“No thanks." She replied, perfectly politely "I'll get something later. Once he's fed I'm going to go upstairs and try and get some sleep."

"Ok." He nodded, turning to Mary "what about you short stack? Cereal, toast..."

"Do we have any waffles?"

"Errrr..." Frank turned to the cupboard, not sure whether they did or not but then Fliss spoke.

"Yeah they're in the bread tin." She informed "I got you some more the other day."

"You're the best Lissy." Mary grinned, settling on the chair round the breakfast bar.

Fliss gave a soft chuckle and looked down at Alex who seemed to have stopped feeding. Frank watched as she rearranged to wind him her eyes still not meeting his.

"Can Rosie come stay this Saturday?" Mary asked and Frank's eyes turned to her.

"As in sleep over?"

Mary nodded. Frank turned to Fliss who looked at him and shrugged. "It's fine by me." She said.

Mary grinned and then she paused "Oh, we said we would check Monty this morning to make sure he wasn't stiff after yesterday."

"Already done." Fliss appeased "Jo fed this morning and sent me a message. She turned him out to pasture for the day and his legs are fine. I suggest you let him have today and tomorrow off so he can rest then maybe me and you can take him and Heidi down to the trail ride on Wednesday after school."

Mary beamed "that sounds great."

They finished breakfast. If was quiet between Frank and Fliss but civil. However, when he left for work be bent down as normal to peck her goodbye and she turned her head so he caught her cheek. All things considered he couldn't blame her so he didn't make a fuss about it. Instead he picked up his keys, walked Mary down to the bus for school and then headed to work.

**** Fliss didn't go back to bed. She couldn't. Instead she dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, and went over to the yard for an hour or so to chat to Joanne and look at the lessons scheduled for that week.

"Has the Friday afternoon class been cancelled?" Fliss frowned.

"Just for this week." Jo, who was enjoying cuddles with Alex, looked at her nodding. "I’m off this weekend for my sister's wedding and Olivia can't cover the teaching. The Yard is covered though, we got the yard hands and..."

"Hey, Jo...it’s OK I trust you." Fliss smiled. "And I'd completely forgotten about the wedding. Are you excited?"

Joanne smiled "Yeah. It’s going to be awesome. She has a fantastic live band playing and it’s been months since I went back to Atlanta."

Fliss smiled "look, why don't you take a few more days. You deserve it. You've worked so hard the last 6 months or so and you should take the time to spend with your family."

"Oh no, I can't..."

"Yes you can." Fliss cut off her protests and looked at her "Between me, Olivia and the stable hands we can cope. You're already off until Wednesday. Just take a week."

"That...that would be amazing." Jo smiled "thank you so much."

Fliss shrugged, "its fine..."

At that Alex gave a little murmur which Fliss knew all too well was a threat he was going to cry so she gestured for Joanne to hand him back. He pressed his face into her neck, his tiny nose brushing against her skin and she gave a soft smile, kissing his head.

"He's adorable." Joanne smiled and Fliss beamed at her.

"Yeah..." she tipped her head to look at him."Yeah he is." She studied her baby’s profile for a moment, noticing just how alike his nose and eye shape was to Frank’s, before she shook herself back to the here and now. "I'll take Friday's afternoon lessons. Call everyone who was booked on and offer them back a place."

"Are you sure?' Joanne frowned "I mean..."

"It’s an hour." Fliss said, shrugging "my mom will watch him or he can nap in the office. It’s cool enough and the baby monitor is wired to my phone..."

"Ok, you're the boss" Joanne nodded.

"At least you recognise that." Fliss mumbled.

"Huh?" Joanne frowned and Fliss shook her head

"Nothing, ignore me." She sighed "ok, I'm gonna take Thor for a quick walk down the pasture path and head home. I'll be over later to ride Cap. I'll feed so you can take an early finish"

Jo smiled "That would be great, I'll make sure it’s all ready."

Fliss smiled before she placed Alex in the stroller and she pushed him over the yard towards the path that led down to the various fields the horses were in. She walked, Thor running ahead slightly, sniffing at any interesting smells he found, and Fliss smiled as her old faithful mare gave a loud whinny and came trotting to her field gate. "Hey Hides." She reached out to stroke her nose "how you doing?"

She watched as Heidi bent her neck to take a look at the curious little item in the stroller before Alex gave a wiggle and the horse jumped back slightly, giving a snort. Fliss chuckled "you daft sod." She reached out and gave her neck a scratch before the sound of her phone ringing made her reach for it.

"Hi Bonnie."

"Oh my God Fliss, I nearly called you last night but it was late when we got back and..." her best friend instantly rambled on and Fliss grinned as she had a feeling she knew what she was going to say "...but Simon asked me to marry him this weekend and I said yes!"

"Bonnie that’s amazing!" Fliss beamed as she held the phone to her ear "I’m so happy for you and I need all the details!"

"It’s such a long story but we went for a meal in this gorgeous restaurant on Times Square and afterwards as we were walking back through central park he got down on one knee and…” Bonnie gave a sigh “He made me cry.”

Fliss gave a little chuckle “Oh babes, that’s fantastic!”

“We’ve not told the rest of the gang yet, Simon thought we could all go out on Friday and do it properly if you’re up for it?”

Fliss hesitated. She had been about to accept, but with the way things were between her and Frank, she wasn’t sure what was going to be happening that evening, let along the weekend.

"Fliss?" Bonnie's voice hit her ear "you still there?" "Yeah sorry...was just...it doesn't matter. Friday sounds great."

"Are you OK?" Bonnie asked.

"Nothing to worry about. Just had an argument with Frank but we'll sort it out, we always do."

"What about?"

"Me going back to work" Fliss shook her head "but honestly, don't worry. I certainly don't wanna drag your good mood down or eat up your break."

“You're not." Bonnie assured her "I got 10 minutes. Lord knows you put up with my complaints often enough."

Fliss took a deep breath and explained to Bonnie inlarge handfuls so as not to swamp her with details and when she reached the bit about Frank calling her a bitch Bonnie took a sharp inhale of breath.

"Oh Fliss..." she sighed "Sounds like you both said a few things you didn't mean."

"I know." Fliss said quietly, feeling the tears sting her eyes "I just don't see why he can't see it from my point of view."

"Can you see it from his?" Bonnie challenged.

"What him wanting me to be a stay at home mom?"

"That's not what I got from that." Bonnie placated her softly "Not at all. He just wants you to take some time. Having a baby is a huge thing, Liss. It takes time to adjust. I think Frank is worried if you rush you'll burn out."

Fliss stayed silent, Bonnie's words slowly sinking in.

"I get your point of view, you want to get back to normal but...well, I kinda see his too." Bonnie said gently, and then a bell sounded on the other end of the phone. "I gotta go Fliss but...just talk to him, and listen. I mean really listen. If you need me later give me a call."

“Thanks Bon...oh and congratulations again. I'm so happy for you." Fliss changed to subject, focusing on the reason her best friend had called in the first place. “Oh, and send me a photo if your diamond! I wanna see it!" ***** Frank tapped at the keyboard, scanning the list of jobs, his mind whirring. He needed something physical to do today, to keep him focussed and his mind off thinking about what an asshole he’d been last night and early this morning. As he realised all the repair jobs had been allocated, he gave a low growl of frustration.

“You alright Frank?”

His head jerked up from the screen and he looked at Alan who was leaning on the door frame.

“Yeah, I just fancied doing a repair or something today but they’re all booked out.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“You bored of management already?” Alan teased and Frank gave a shake of his head.

“No, just…well to be honest I could do with the distraction.” He said, dragging his hand over his face.

“From the look of you, you could do with a good sleep too.” Alan mused, stepping into the office.

“You’re not wrong.” Frank mumbled. “That little pup of yours keeping you awake?”

“Something like that.” Frank looked at the screen before he looked up at Alan “What are you doing here anyway? Thought you and the Mrs were off to Toronto?”

“We fly tomorrow.” Alan looked at Frank, cocking his head to one side. “Frank, are you sure you’re ok buddy?”

Frank leaned back in his chair letting out a heavy breath “Had an argument with Fliss last night, I didn’t sleep well. Breakfast this morning wasn’t particularly friendly.”

“Ah.” Alan said, closing the door behind him as he sat down in the chair on the opposite side of Frank’s desk. “A bad argument or…”

“Bad enough for me to end up calling her a bitch.” Frank shook his head, looking down at the desk. “Which I’m not proud of, believe me.”

“We all say shit we don’t mean in the heat of the moment.” Alan said wisely “Christ, if I had a dollar for every time me and Annette had hurled abuse at one another, well I’d have 6 of these damned shops instead of just 1.”

Frank gave a small smile, before his face slipped again and he glanced at his boss. “Her ex used to call her names like that, and…”

“Hey, woah.” Alan looked at him, cutting him off “I’ve heard all about that shit bag from Bill and I can tell you right now Frank, you are not that guy.”

Frank took a deep breath, licking his lips.

“It’s really bothering you isn’t it?” Alan said gently and Frank raised his eyebrows.

“We’ve argued before…” he said, “This just…I dunno. It’s the first time she ever frustrated me enough to make me say such a shitty thing.”

“Well…” Alan leaned back. “That’s what being in love does to you pal. We lash out at the people we care about most, because they frustrate the fuck out of us and we don’t know how else to deal with it.”

Frank pondered his words for a moment. He loved Fliss beyond what he felt anyone could comprehend and sometimes, like yesterday, when they argued it became a frustration because he didn’t want to argue with her. He wasn’t naïve enough to thing that everything would always be hearts and roses, but at the same time he was sappy enough to want it to be. And when it wasn’t, it bugged the fuck out of him because he was so consumed by this utter love for the woman he wanted to share the rest of his life with, he sometimes didn’t know how to react when they fought. He appeased her most of the time, because it was easier, but damned it last night she spiked something inside him with her inability to listen to the point he was trying to make.

Fuck, he had to make this right. He couldn’t spend the rest of the day in some kind of stupid, angry limbo. He looked at Alan and took a deep breath.

“Any chance I can have the afternoon off?” he hopefully asked “See if I can go and sort this mess out.”

Alan smiled “Hey, you’re the boss now. Do what you want. Book it as leave or make the hours up, whatever.”

“Thanks.” Frank smiled at him. “I appreciate it.”

Alan nodded and stood up. “Oh, before I go, the reason I actually came to see you was that we had an enquiry the other day about a sale. From someone you might know.”

“Oh?” Frank asked, looking at Alan. “Who was it?”

“Jon Gruden.” Alan smiled and Frank felt his mouth drop open.

“No shit!” he grinned before he paused “What the fuck does he want with a boat? I thought he lived in Nevada.”

“Well, apparently when he isn’t coaching the Raiders he’s residing in his second home in Tampa.” Alan shrugged “And he wants a boat. I figured given your love for football you might fancy handling that one yourself.”

“Absolutely.” Frank grinned “Thanks Alan.”

“No problems, he’s gonna call to arrange an appointment. Now get yourself off and sort things with your Mrs.”

Frank nodded “I’ll do my best.”

Alan gave him another smile and left the office, leaving the door open. Frank leaned back once more, before he reached for his phone which was laying on the desk, smiling at the photo he had taken just yesterday afternoon at Mary’s show. Mary was grinning ear to ear as she sat atop of Monty, Fliss stood by her side, Alex in her arms arranged so he too was facing the camera. He’d changed the screensaver over immediately after taking it, he’d loved the damned shot that much.

He scrolled through to his key contacts and flicked the green call button by the side of Fliss’ name. The phone rang out a few times, and for a horrible moment he thought she was going to ignore him, but then the dial tone stopped.

"Hi." Her tone was flat.

"Hey... erm, are you home?" He paused and grimaced. Fuck, it sounded like he was checking up on her and he hastily started to try to explain. "Not that it matters, I just..."

"No, I mean yeah...sorta...was just out walking with Thor and Alex down the fields." She cut him off, her tone maintaining neutral. He supposed he should be thankful she wasn’t ranting at him. 

"Ok. Well I'm coming home." he informed her

"Why?" her voice was puzzled. 

"Because I can't concentrate Lissy" He sighed. "I hate being at odds with you. I just... " he swallowed thickly and rubbed his eye, tiredly "I wanna make it right so, I'm taking the afternoon off and I'm hoping we can talk?"

There was silence on the other end, other than a bark from Thor and then he heard her sniffle a little, her reply quiet. "Yeah. OK"

"Baby don't cry." He said softly, the lump in his throat growing bigger. “Please…”

"Sorry I just..." she took a deep breath "I'll see you in half an hour or so"

And with that she hung up.

Frank tossed the phone back onto his desk, tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair before he stood up, turned off his laptop and retrieved the keys to his truck from the drawer of his desk. He strode out into the shop floor, instructed his Team Leader to call him if there was an emergency, otherwise he was unavailable for the rest of the afternoon. **** Fliss stood looking at the screen on her phone, the photo of Frank, Mary and Alex looking back up at her. She swallowed a little, but before she could think about what Frank had said any more a WhatsApp message came through from Bonnie. It was a picture of her ring. It was a fairly large, brilliant cut diamond solitaire, set into an elaborately twisted white gold band. It was stunning, and exactly Bonnie’s style.

She tapped a message out telling Bonnie it was gorgeous before she shoved the phone in the back pocket of her cut- off jeans and then glanced at her own engagement ring on her left hand, watching as it caught the sunlight, looking even more shiny and sparkly than usual. She adored the design of it. It was delicate, nothing like the hideously large one John had given her. Frank had put a lot of thought into the type of thing she would like, as opposed to simply picking something to show off how much he could afford. It was all about her. As Alex made a small noise from the pram she instinctively reached down with her right hand to softly rub at his chest, an action the baby found soothing. As she did, her new ring, her 'Push Present' as Bonnie and Roberta called it caught her eye. It was an emerald cut sapphire, very similar in size and shape to the stone in her engagement ring, and it was set into a simple plain white gold band. Frank had given it to her at the hospital just before they brought Alex home. "Blue for a boy" he'd smiled as she'd beamed up at him before kissing him softly and thanking him for being such a thoughtful, soft sap.

And that was her sailor all over. A thoughtful, soft sap that was so distraught at having called her a bitch he was taking the afternoon off work because he couldn't concentrate until he'd made things right.

Fuck, Bonnie was right. She'd gotten Frank's intentions here all wrong. So very wrong.

Yes, he had shocked her. Fliss has never thought Frank had it in him to be so downright vile enough to call her a name like he did, but now she realised that she hadn't made things easy for him. She'd never, ever dared answer John back the way she did Frank as it would result in her getting a beating, and as such, if she was perfectly honest with herself, she struggled with the whole debating side of things. When challenged and unable to articulate her answer in the way she wanted she reverted to silence, in a lot of ways it felt easier. And when pushed she lashed out simply for the reason that sometimes she didn't know what else to do. But the stupid thing was, the fact she felt able to go on the defensive showed just how safe she was with Frank.

Because the worst thing he had ever done, and would ever do was call her a name out of pure frustration.

He shouldn't have done it. That was a given but in the grand scheme of things, as she knew only too well, there were far worse things he could do. But he never would. Because he loved her and he wasn't that type of man. He'd die before he hurt a single hair on her head, on any of their heads for that matter. She glanced at Alex, where he lay, his bright blue eyes looking up at her and she wiped her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Shall we head back and make your daddy some lunch baby boy?"

She gave a sharp whistle and Thor bounded back to her and the three of them made their way home. Alex was fast asleep when they got home, so Fliss kicked off her sneakers at the door and parked the stroller in the cool of the family room, heading towards the kitchen area. She set about making a quick penne arabiata and a salad. She’d just finished setting two places at the breakfast bar when Frank walked in the door. Immediately his eyes flicked her hers and she gave him a small smile.

“Hi.” He said softly, before his attention turned to his sleeping son. He gently brushed a finger down his cheek before he looked back at Fliss. There was a moment where the two of them simply stared at each other, before Fliss was the first one to move, walking out of the kitchen area. He met her half way, wrapping his arms around her as she pressed her face into his black polo-collared T-shirt.

“I’m sorry.” Frank stuttered, screwing his face up as he lay his cheek on her hair, breathing in her shampoo “Baby, I’m so fuckin’ sorry…”

“Me too.” She sniffed “I hate it when we fight Frankie.”

“I know, I do too.” He said, pulling back a little to cup her face. He wiped her tears with his thumbs, blinking back his own. “I was out of order calling you what I did. I’m so disgusted in myself honey, I can’t…”

“Hey…” She reached up to touch his face, her fingers brushing his stubble “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.” He said, swallowing thickly “I just…” he trailed off as he shook his head and she smiled up at him.

“Frank, we both said shit we didn’t mean.” She sighed “I called you an asshole, you know, it’s not ok for me to say those things either.”

“I know, but…”

“No buts, ok?” she said, standing on her toes to lightly brush her lips against his. “Come on, I made lunch.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” He said softly as she laced her fingers with his and led him to the place at the bar.

“I wanted to.” She shrugged “Call it a peace offering…that and I was fucking starving so.”

Frank snorted “Should have known there was an ulterior motive.”

“You wanna eat your food or wear it?” Fliss asked, shooting him a look as he settled down on the stool. Frank chuckled and watched her as she placed the salad dish down on the side before resting the pasta dish on the heat mat that was on the counter. She turned back to the fridge, Frank simply drinking her in as she bent over slightly, the pure domesticity of the scene washing over him as she padded bare foot back towards him, two beers in her hands.

She placed one down and sat next to him, Frank dishing out their food and they silently tucked in, but the silence was a comfortable one in contrast to the dinner they’d shared the night before, and the tense breakfast that morning. Franks left hand gently gave her right knee a soft squeeze and she smiled at him, before she reached for her drink and took a large pull.

“So, we gonna talk about stuff?” she asked, taking the final bite of her lunch before she placed her cutlery down on her empty plate. “I promise I won’t fly off the handle this time.”

Frank took a deep breath and swallowed his last mouthful of food before he licked his lips “OK.” He nodded. “Baby, I never said I didn’t want you to work. Yeah, maybe there was a small part of me that loves this.” He said, waving his hand between them “The idea of just coming home and you being here but I know that’s not what you want, and I’d never, ever dream of making you give up everything you’ve worked for just because of some…weird domestic fantasy I have, which for the record, really freaks me the fuck out.” “What do you mean?” Fliss asked.

“I never in a million years ever dreamed I’d have something like this, someone like you.” He looked at her. “You saw past that utter fuck up I was back then and took me for who I was, Mary too…we made a life together, you gave me the most beautiful gift anyone ever could that’s currently snoring over there in his stroller.”

Fliss looked at him, the tears filling her eyes as he continued.

“I never thought I’d ever get here. A family, a home, and a job that means I can provide for you all.” he swallowed a little, as he shook his head “…I’m not explaining this very well.”

“I get it.”  Fliss looked at him, “I do Frank, because I never thought I’d ever have this either.” She reached out and took his hand which was resting on the counter top, squeezing his fingers in hers “It’s so mundane, its normal and it’s such a stupid thing to be grateful for, but every time that door goes and you come home, I feel happiness instead of fear about what mood you’re going to be in and whether or not it means I’m gonna get a kicking.”

Frank bowed his head, shaking it softly as his hand tightened around hers. “Lissy, don’t…”

“It’s true.” She said gently “And last night, earlier this morning when you accused me of likening you to John…there’s not a single time, ever, that I’ve done that. Because you’re nothing like him. And me accusing you of trying to control me was a low blow. I know that’s not what you were doing.”

“I just want you to take time, not to rush things.” He said gently. “But if going back to work and expanding is what you really wanna do then…”

“No, it’s not.” She shook her head “Well, it is but you’re right. I was over there before with Joanne looking at the diary and it would be too much. I don’t want to miss out on him growing up. I mean, God, I go to sleep at night and wake up in the morning and I swear he’s changed in the hours we’ve been asleep.”

Frank chuckled “I know. Before we know it he’ll be walking, talking and answering me back…”

“Don’t.” Fliss groaned as she shook her head smiling “But you were right, so many women would kill to be in my position. So, I thought maybe I could go back first of all, just do maybe one day a week teaching and a couple of evenings where I finish off for Joanne. I can do the rest of the stuff like the publicity and organising, emails that type of stuff from home. And, when he’s a little older then I can work my way back up to more.”

“A compromise.” Frank smiled and Fliss shrugged.

“Yeah, I can be reasonable at times.”

“Sounds good to me.” Frank nodded

“Good, because I’m covering a lesson on Friday.” She smirked and Frank gave a snort, shaking his head. “Just one, for an hour or so. Joanne’s away this week and I don’t want to let the clients down.”

“You don’t need to explain…”

“And I want to buy the land.” She said, looking at him. “Just so it belongs to Sandybrook. We can use it for grazing, maybe even a grass jumping paddock, just until we’re ready to start thinking about expanding.”

“Ok.” Frank nodded “Make the call, put an offer in.”

She leaned over and gave him a quick peck. “Thank you.” she whispered against his mouth before she stood up to clear the breakfast bar down.

“I’ll do that.” He stood up, “You cooked so…”

“It won’t take me long” she shrugged “Honestly I don’t mind.”

“Are we gonna have an argument now about who does the dishes?” he teased and she let out a soft laugh.

“No, because they’re going in Dusty.” “You know, I never met anyone who named a dishwasher before.” Frank teased as he moved to grab a tupperware container to place the left over pasta in.

“Well he’s an important part of our life.” Fliss said seriously “I couldn’t cope without him.” 

Frank chuckled as he ladled the pasta into the container, snapping the lid shut before he haphazardly slung it in the fridge. He moved behind Fliss, his arms circling her waist as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Why don’t we go out Friday night? Mary’s going to Roberta’s, I’m sure your mom and dad would watch Alex for us.”

“We can’t…” Fliss said suddenly and Frank gave a groan.

“Why not? Come one we haven’t been out together since before he was born. We can grab dinner, a few drinks…”

“No, I mean….there might be something planned.” Fliss said, tossing the cloth she’d been wiping the place they’d just eaten down with into the sink.

“Oh?” he asked, and she turned in his arms, looking up at him.

“I got a call from Bonnie before, Simon finally got down on one knee.” “Huh, no kidding!” Frank grinned, before he pouted slightly “The little shit never told me.”

“Yeah well, she said that they were thinking of going out on Friday, all of us and telling everyone then so…”

“OK, well, we can grab an earlier dinner and meet them after.” He reasoned “Hey, there’s another compromise.”

Fliss chuckled, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers lacing together behind his neck “Yeah, we’re getting kinda good at this.”

“I know something else we’re kinda good at too…” he grinned and she scoffed, arching an eyebrow.

“You’re a dirt bag.” She mumbled as his head dropped towards hers.

“You love it.” He muttered, his lips pressing to hers. As the kiss deepened, Frank’s hands moved gently round to her back, one splaying at the base of her spine, the other sliding in her hair as their tongues tangled in the familiar yet oh so damned good dance. With a grin he reached down, hooked his hands under her thighs and lifted her easily, setting her on the counter in front of him. She smirked a little against his lips and he gave a chuckle, the kiss resuming, her legs hooking round his waist and she pulled him closer, causing him to grunt a little.

“You want something pretty girl?” he teased, pulling back a little.

Fliss bit her lip, her hands sliding up his arms. “Yeah, can you go to the garage and maybe smear a bit of oil or motor grease onto your arms…maybe a bit on your cheek?”

“You have an unhealthy obsession with dirt, you know that?” he looked at her and she shook her head.

“No, I have an unhealthy obsession with dirt on you…” she corrected, her arms once more round his neck. “I totally loathe Alex’s nappy changes, for the record.”

Frank snorted “Yeah, they’re not great. Just wait till he starts solids.”

“Yeah, ok, stop talking shit Frank and fuck me.”

“Talking shit…” he said, completely ignoring her request despite the fucking hotwire it had sent to his already half erect cock “I see what you did there.”

“Whatever, get on with the other part.”

“Which was?” he teased.

She looked at him, realising instantly he was playing around so she smirked a little and leaned forward, her lips brushing his ear. “Fuck me, Adler.”

“But I’m not covered in dirt…” he said, turning his head to look at her, his lips ghosting hers.

Fliss paused, her eyes flicking around before she grinned a she spotted the dirty pasta dish to the side of her. In flash she wiped her finger round the edge of the dish and smeared the tomato sauce straight across his cheek and down his beard.

“Now you are.” She looked at him, as he stared at her in shock, open mouthed before he gave a scoff.

“You want me to fuck you Cowgirl, you’re gonna have to lick that off my face.”

Her eyes locked onto his, she stuck her finger in her mouth sucking it clean and his eyes darkened a little as she released it with a loud pop and gave a shrug.

“Ok.” She smirked, her hand tangling in his hair as she pulled his head towards her. She gently placed her mouth against his face, sucking and licking at the offending food, making her way down his cheek to his jaw line, where she continued her affections. Frank gave a sigh, tipping his head slightly to give her more access as she skated across his short whiskers to the other side, her kisses trailing back upwards before her mouth caught his again.

“God I fucking love you…” he mumbled, his arms pulling her closer.

“Yeah?” she asked as his hands gripped at her hips.

“Yeah…” he said, standing in between her legs, his mouth dropping to her neck. She rolled her head back, as he nipped at her pulse-point, before his lips moved to that hollow at the bottom of her throat, his beard scratching her skin as his lips slid back up to hers and he kissed her hard. His hands moved to pop the button on her jeans before he gently grasped at the waistband and she shifted to allow him to pull them down over her legs, tossing them to one side. His hands slipped up underneath the blue top she was wearing, pulling down the cups of her bra. His hands gently teased at her nipples, all the time listening to the soft noises and groans she was making as he continued, his nose brushing against hers, smiling softly.

“You like that?” he whispered, knowing full well that she did, but he knew she liked his soft dirty talk and she gave a sigh and a nod, followed by a little squeak as he shifted her underwear to one side and pushed two fingers insider her.

Her head fell forward onto his shoulder as her hands grasped at his back through his T-shirt, and as he continued to stroke and coax her she bit down on his neck causing him to hiss slightly at the bite of pain.

“Need you…” she purred into his ear “Please.”

And when she asked like that, he was always powerless to refuse. This woman was his absolute weakness.

He moved his head to kiss her again, and removing his hand from her panties he reached up and pulled them down before he stood up, and she reached for the button and zip on his jeans. Once she’d gotten them open, she pushed them down, over his slim hips as Frank’s hands moved to her back and he gently pulled her forwards, sliding her towards him, letting her feel how ready he was. She reached down and gently gave his hard cock a pump up and down and he let out a groan as he pulled her off the counter slightly, her legs wrapping around his waist, arms round his neck, her lower back resting against the side of the worktop both of them letting out a load moan of satisfaction as he pushed forward, all the way home.

Frank’s head dropped to Fliss’ shoulder, his mouth once more on the pulse point in her neck as he thrust again, his hands on her back, keeping her supported slightly

“God you feel so good…” he said, his lips moving back to hers as he set a pace that was torturously slow, and deep, and loving. Thrust after thrust he kept his lips either on hers or centimetres away, watching her intently as her pupils blew as he worked her up, driving into her, as deep as he could go, one hand resting at the back of her spine to keep her back from slamming into the harsh marble edge of the counter, the other guiding her head so he could kiss her, hard.

Her hands moved, the nails scraping lightly at the nape of his neck, and Frank felt himself falter for a split second at her touch.  

“Fuck baby…” he groaned into her mouth as she grinned cheekily, her hands sliding down to his bare ass.

“Harder, please Frankie…” she urged him on, her voice sultry, desperate for him to pick up the pace. So be obliged, giving her what she wanted.

Because he always did.

She held on to his ass for dear life, moaning with her body arching in his hands, the fabric of his jeans chafed delectably against her thighs, his hips hitting hers hard with every thrust and before long she let out a loud groan, her hands tightening on his skin as she cried out as he quickened his pace even more, causing her to gasp his name, a broken mumble of the word “Frankie…” before she let out a breathless gasp, her voice catching in her throat as the world began to tip on its axis.

“Come on, come for me Lissy…” he whispered, his breath hot on her ear. And that was it, she dropped over the edge, her head falling back as her hands slid up and grasped tightly on the hem of his shirt as she clenched around him, again and again, groaning and trembling, powerless to stop her body’s reactions. It took him another couple of thrusts before he gave a soft “oh” of pleasure, her name tumbled from his mouth before he bit down on her shoulder softly, reacting his own end. He gave a few erratic thrusts, pumping with short, deep strokes which sent her over another peak, but this was feeble as she collapsed forward, her head laying on his shoulder, utterly spent. They stayed still for a moment, the only sound in the room was their deep breathing, Frank holding her close to him, as they both evened out from their high.

“Love you…” she said softly, kissing the tip of his nose causing him to smile, that cheeky smile he saved just for her before his lips met hers again

“Good, because I love you too sweetheart, more than you could ever know.”

*****

Once they had tidied themselves up and  finished sorting the kitchen out, Alex decided it was time for a feed. They settled on the couch, Fliss nursing their son, Frank's arm round her shoulder, fingers tracing shapes on the top of her arm. When Alex was done, Frank took him, having missed his morning cuddles with his boy and the three of them sat on the couch, Frank resting his feet on the coffee table, knees pointing to the ceiling so Alex could lay flat against his thighs looking up at his parents. His tiny hands fisted around Frank’s index fingers and he flashed his momma and daddy several huge baby smiles as they talked to him, Fliss capturing the moments on her phone. It wasn't long before his eyes grew heavy and Fliss felt hers doing the same so they set their son down to nap before settling down for the afternoon. Fliss shifted so her head was lay in Frank's lap, his hand gently carding through her hair s they both succumbed to the fact neither had slept much the night before.

The two of them woke with a jolt an hour and a half later when Mary walked in the door. In the afternoons she was allowed to walk from the school bus stop on the main road because 3 other kids came the same way and she could peel off from them up the long drive. She looked at the pair of them as they blinked themselves out of sleep and shook her head, telling them both that only old people and babies napped during the day.

Once she had fully come round, Fliss changed into her riding gear ready to head back to the yard and gave a small yell of victory when she managed to fasten the button on her breeches. She walked into the family room and grinned at Frank, pointing out the fact she was back into her pants, even if they were elasticated slightly, and he smirked, giving her ass a stinging slap.

"I prefer you out of them." He quipped, his hands locking at the base of her spine

Fliss chuckled, her hands curling round his biceps. "And I prefer you dirty but we can’t always have what we want, Sailor."

Frank wrinkled his nose "I already have what I want Cowgirl"

Fliss let out a groan and shook her head as Frank laughed. "I was being serious."

"Course you were, smooth bastard." Fliss rolled her eyes as he shrugged, leaning down to give her a soft kiss.

"You two are gross..." Mary mumbled as she walked past to the fridge to grab a juice box.

“Feel free to leave.” Frank shot at her, “I have the number of a good Children’s Home…”

“Whatever…” she said, her voice airy as she skipped over to the large window seat, hopping up and opening her laptop. 

By the end of the evening Fliss, however, had to concede Mary had a point. Frank had been particularly handsy all night, kissing her or touching her wherever he could.

"What's gotten into you?" She asked him gently when they were getting ready for bed. Frank had just gotten out of the shower and the first thing he'd done upon walking back into their bedroom was pull her in for a searing kiss.

"I just..." he let out a soft sigh, and looked at her a little sheepishly "I’m a little concerned you let me off far too easily before so I'm, I dunno, a little thankful I guess.”

Fliss cocked her head to one side, her hands sliding up his arms and coming to rest on his shoulders which were speckled with drops of water. "Sailor, it wasn't a case of letting you off easily.

I just get that I was wrong too. If I'm honest I was more hurt with what you called me because I know you and I know you meant well so for you to snap like that, I must have pushed you…”

Frank dropped his head giving a heavy sigh. "Sweetheart, that’s not an excuse…” "Shh." She abruptly cut him off with a finger over his lips. "Stop apologising. It’s done, you called me a bitch, I called you an asshole. No one died, no one got struck down by lightning...we move on. Ok?"

Frank looked at her, a soft smile on his face. "I love you so faking much"

"Well now I know that's true since you gone all Boston on me..." she grinned as his arms circled round her back, pulling her close. His nose gently brushed hers before their lips locked together and with a smirk, Fliss reached down between them and untucked the edge of the towel which was wrapped around his hips, causing it to fall to the floor.

"Whoops." She grinned into the kiss as she gently pivoted shoving Frank gently on the chest. The movement was enough that, coupled with the backs of his knees hitting the bed he fell backwards and sat down as Fliss scrambled over to straddle him.

"Yeah, see, there's only one problem with this scenario..." Frank said, his hands grasping at the hem of her top as his mouth nipped at her jaw. "You're wearing too many clothes."

"Why don’t you do something about it?" She said, her voice a breathy whisper. So he did.

[avintagekiss24]

Certain Aspects | Bucky Barnes{

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x black!reader

Word Count: 4,837

Warnings: smut!

A/N: It’s still spooky szn ‘round these parts. Here is my joint submission for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan all things fall challenge and @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ multi fandom challenge! My prompt for All Things Fall is “you’re too old to go trick or treating” and Neighbors to Lovers for the Multi Fandom Challenge. Hope you enjoyyyyyy :)

-----

“Girl, he is too fine.”

You chuckle and roll your eyes as your sister bites her bottom lip while staring at your new next door neighbor. You lift your beer to your lips as the two of you sway slowly back and forth on your porch swing, your eyes closing lightly as you swallow the golden liquid.

A warm breeze whips down the street, the leaves on the trees swaying and adding a natural soundtrack to the evening as the sun sets. You cross your legs at the ankle as a smirk spreads on your face when you hear your sister moan again.

“Oh my God, will you stop?” You nudge her with your elbow, rocking her to her right slightly.

She puckers her lips as she shakes her head slowly, “And he’s a good dad too? You need to snap his ass up real quick.”

You cut your eyes toward your dark, long haired neighbor. He’s new to the neighborhood, only having been next door to you for about a month. You’ve gathered that he’s divorced, only seeing the dirty blonde haired little girl every other week and alternating Wednesday nights. 

His laugh wafts toward you and you sit up a little straighter. He is cute, you’ll give your sister that. His hair is piled high on his head in a messy bun, loose, wavy tendrils falling around his face. He throws a fake spider toward the little girl as they decorate, her scream bouncing off of the houses, bringing a smile to your face. He shushes her and scoops her up in his arms before twirling her around, more laughter filling the air. 

Ok, so you’ll give your sister that too. He is a good dad. 

“I betchu he’s got good dick.”

You snap your head toward her, your mouth falling open, “Can you stop it! Damn, his kid is right there.”

“So? She can’t hear me. Come on, he is a prime piece of real estate! You should go talk to him!”

You shake your head, sipping on your beer again, “Not going to happen Tanisha.” 

She turns toward you, her lips pursed, her eyebrows turning in on each other as she rests her balled fist on her hip, “Why the hell not?”

“Because,” You shrug, “I’m not going to just jump him because he’s hot and looks like a good dad. He could be a serial killer for all we know.”

“Right,” She draws out, rolling her eyes, “Next excuse?”

“He’s brand new to the neighborhood. I don’t want him thinking he moved in next to a stalker.”

“Next!”

You tap your fingernail against the glass bottle in your hands, “Umm, he’s white?”

You smile widely as your sister throws her head back to laugh, “You’re stupid! You’ve had white boyfriends!”

“Not since college.” You say, letting out a deep breath.

“No better reason to try again.” She loops her arm around your shoulder, her face softening as she smiles at you, “Seriously. You and Dante have been divorced for two years. Jourdan’s in college… it’s time for you to get out there.”

“I’m forty,” You laugh.

“That’s the new twenty!”

You let out another sigh, raising the bottle to your lips, “Listen, after eighteen years of marriage, I deserve a few years to myself.  I just got Jourdan out of the house.”

Tanisha nods quickly, “I completely understand and you do deserve it, but you also deserve some of that hot, daddy dick next door! I’m not saying you have to marry his ass!”

You close your eyes and shake your head slowly, “I’m telling mom.  You are getting out of control, ma’am.”

“Shit,” She smiles, bumping her shoulder into yours, “Let mama get a look at him, she’d jump him herself.”

Your eyes widen as surprise and shock fill your face, “Wow, Tanisha.”

She shrugs defiantly as she turns her head back toward your neighbor. You watch as well as they wrap the large oak tree with fake spiderwebs and carefully place their carved pumpkins on the steps of the porch. The small human starts to yawn, rubbing her eyes with her little fist and he scoops her into his arms again, planting kisses all over her face. He takes the stairs to his porch toward the front door and casually glances over at the two of you - catching you both red handed.

“Shit,” You mumble, dropping your eyes and tucking some hair behind your ear. 

You cut your eyes back toward him after a few seconds. He smiles gently at the two of you, raising his hand toward you. You both return the gesture, your wayward sister wiggling her fingers at him, and you plastering a nervous smile on your face. He disappears seconds later, the slamming of his screen door floating toward you.

“Damn it, Tanisha!” You say, punching her shoulder.

She laughs again, clapping her hands, “What? I think that was a great first meeting.”

You stand and slip your feet back into your flip flops and pass in front of her, throwing open your screen door.

“What?” You hear her call behind you as you pass through the threshold of your home, ignoring her completely, “It’s not my fault, I wasn’t forcing you to stare at him… did you peep that ass though?”

-----

Your doorbell rings for what seems like the hundredth time that night. You jog through the kitchen, grabbing the bowl of candy and your cat ears as you rush toward the door. 

“Trick of treat!”

You smile widely at the gaggle of children on your porch holding open their bags of candy. You wave quickly to the parents by the mailbox before bending over to toss random bits of candy into their bags. Moana, Buzz Lightyear, Elsa, Batman, and Maleficent all sing their thank yous before scurrying away back to their parents. You watch as the run off, smiling and waving again as another group approaches.

“Oh my gosh, you guys are so cute!” You coo as you throw Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and bags of skittles into their bags, “Be careful, okay? Happy Halloween.”

You glance up as they run off, your breath hitching in your throat as you meet a pair of blue eyes. Hunky neighbor. He blinks at you slowly, another one of his smiles spreading across his face as he raises his hand toward you. You blink back, your eyes dipping down his lean body, taking in the sight of him in his leather jacket tossed over a polka dotted black button up and tight black jeans. 

“Umph,” You let out inwardly as your mind starts to run wild.

His hair is pulled back again, but this time in a ponytail. His free hand is shoved in his back pocket as his face twists in a mild confusion. You jump slightly, snapping back into reality and cover your face with your hand as you realize you’ve been standing like an idiot gawking at him. You plaster a smile on your face and wave back awkwardly as his daughter runs up to him, wrapping her arms around his thick thighs - damn it!

You snap your eyes back up toward the group of adults huddled at the bottom of your driveway. A leggy blonde, dressed as a nurse, slides her arm around his shoulder and rubs his back gently as they both smile down on their children. Embarrassment flushes through you and you roll your eyes inwardly before shutting the door as the group moves to the next house. 

Goddamn Tanisha. 

The night progresses quickly. Hours have passed, your candy bowl is empty, the wave of children and teenagers has slowed to a stop, and you’re currently cuddled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and shoving popcorn in your mouth as Michael Myers slashes his way through his victims. You check your phone as a picture of your baby sister and her friends at a Halloween party slides through. You smile and are tapping out your response when suddenly the lights and television snap off. 

You glance toward the ceiling, waiting for the lights to click back on. The low buzz of the power trying to reconnect sounds through the house seconds later. The TV and lights flicker, but then die away again. On any other night, you’d be perturbed but since it is Halloween, it’s fitting. You push away from the couch and move toward your hallway closet, collecting a handful of candles and disperse them throughout the kitchen and living room. Once they are lit, you grab your iPad, log into Netflix and continue your slasher movie binge. 

A knock sounds from the front door an hour or two later. You snap your head toward it, glancing down at your phone to check the time. 12:02am flashes back at you. It’s too late for trick or treat-ers, and your sister is three sheets to the wind two cities over. You glance slowly back down on the paused screen of your iPad, Michael Myers’ bloody knife on full display. A quick thought flashes through your head of a six foot, masked man standing at your door.

You roll eyes and throw the blanket away from your body. You really do need to get out more. You jog toward the door, cracking it open just a sliver to reveal the smiling face of hunky neighbor. Oh shit. You gulp as your eyes go wide, but you pull the door open and push the screen door out.

“Trick or treat.”

You squint coyly, cocking your head “You’re too old to go trick or treating.” You smile, trying not to sound nervous as the earlier events of the evening reply in your mind.

He throws his hands up, “You caught me,” He smiles widely, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he scrunches his nose.

You could melt. He is too cute for his own good. 

“Sorry, I know it’s late,” He starts, shoving his hands back in his pockets, “I just um, I just wanted to check on you since the power’s been off for a few hours. I haven’t seen… I don’t see… I think you live alone? Not that I’m watching you or anything, I just, you know, I - “ He laughs nervously, rubbing his forehead and then  pinching the bridge of his nose, “Sorry. I just wanted to check on you, and see if you need anything. I’m not a creep, I promise.”

You laugh with him, feeling as though the awkward scales have evened out nicely between the two of you as he stumbles over his words, “That’s really sweet, thank you. I’m fine, really. It’s um, it’s Bucky, right? I think I heard one of your friends screaming at you from their car one night.”

“Oh god,” He chuckles, covering his face, “Sorry, that’s my buddy Sam. He’s unreasonably obnoxious and enjoys being the loudest person in the room.”

You nod, “Oh I get it, that sounds exactly like my sister. You are not alone, sir.”

The two of you share a laugh before it dies away naturally and you’re left looking at him and him looking at you. You smile nervously under his piercing blue eyes, glancing down at your sock covered feet before smoothing your hand over the top of your head. You glance back up at him, finding his eyes still on you as another soft smile spreads on his lips. 

I’m not saying you have to marry his ass!

Your sister’s words float through your head as you smile stupidly back at the incredibly handsome Bucky. Suddenly, everything Tanisha has ever said to you makes a whole lot of sense. 

You point behind you toward your kitchen, “I’m sure they’re warm by now, but I have beer and a dump cake if you’re interested. You know, as a thank you for coming over to check on me.”

His smile widens, “That sounds great, thanks.”

You take a breath and tread through the house, glancing over your shoulder quickly as he follows you. You point toward one of the bar stools at the counter and move to the fridge, plucking out two Modelo’s and sliding one toward him. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around the kitchen, grabbing plates and forks before sliding the glass pan holding your famous dump cake toward you. 

“Thank you,” He smiles as you pass him a small plate.

You watch him through your eyelashes as he takes a bite and closes his eyes, moaning as he chews, “Mmmm. This is so good,” he says after a minute.

Pride flashes through you as you dig into your own plate, “Thanks. It’s one of my specialties.”

“It’s amazing. It’s been a while since I’ve had homemade dessert, my ex wife wasn’t much of a cook.”

“ Well, it’s not for everybody,” you chuckle as you take a bite, “Do you cook?” you ask quietly, trying to make conversation.

“I do now. I think I bought every cookbook I could find when we separated, especially since I’ve get Kimmie half the time now.”

“She was so cute tonight.” You gush,  holding your hand to your chest.

“Thanks,” He nods, “I was surprised my ex let me have her tonight. That was a fight I was not prepared for.”

“Ah, not on good terms, huh?”

“Not in the slightest, no.” He chuckles.

“I know the feeling. My son was sixteen when my ex-husband and I split and my ex did everything in his power to make it as difficult as possible. We still don’t speak much.”

Bucky mouth falls open as he widens his eyes at you, “You have a sixteen year old?”

“I have an eighteen year old now.” You laugh.

“Holy shit,” He laughs, “You don’t look old enough to have an eighteen year old.”

You throw your hands up as you chew, “I started young. I wouldn’t recommend it, but I’m kinda glad I got it over with. I’m young enough to start over, but old enough to know better.”

“Let me tell ya. I was thirty five when Kimmie was born, and four years later, I’m still scared shitless. There is no way I could have handled a kid in my twenties.”

“Well, that comes with the territory. You’re never going to not be scared shitless.” You push your fork around your plate, averting your eyes from his, “I’ve seen you with her, you’re doing a great job. Don’t worry.”

You lift your eyes to catch the smile that crosses his face. His eyes linger on you, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering so quickly that it makes it hard for you to finish your cake. 

“Thanks,” He says softly, dropping his eyes seconds later to grab his beer. 

It grows silent between the two of you, your forks scraping along the glass of your plates filling the space as random crackles of the candles butt in as well. You sip on your beer before sitting it back down, spinning it in slow circles. 

“So um,” Bucky says after a few moments, “Does dating get easier after a divorce?” You groan inwardly and he laughs, “I’ll take that as a no.”

“I’m not the one to ask,” You chuckle.

“Why’s that?” His voice drops to a soft tone, his head tilting slightly as he watches you. You shift in your seat and send your eyes back down to your plate as your face heats up , “Sorry,” He says after sensing your reluctance, “I am a complete stranger and that was totally invasive.”

“No, no, no,” You shake your head as you hold out your hand, “It’s not, sorry. I just, I dunno. I was married for so long, I just want a little time to myself, you know?”

He nods slowly, “I get that. But, you don’t miss certain… aspects of being in a relationship?”

You snap your eyes toward him as your lips part at his suggestion. He blinks at you as his lips curl up at the corners. His eyes dip from yours down to your lips, his tongue darting out to sweep along his before he reconnects his vision with yours. You take a breath. 

Hunky neighbor.

You stand, not able to take the closeness of the two of you any longer, and move to the sink to dispose of your barely touched cake, “I mean, naturally,” you finally answer, “But it looks like you’re getting certain aspects already.”

He squints as he flashes a baffled smile, “What is that supposed to mean, neighbor?” He asks, batting his eyes playfully.

You laugh loudly, “Oh please! I saw nursey nurse nurse out there.”

“Oh no. No, no, no,” he starts, throwing his hands up, “That’s not that.”

“Uh huh,” You nod quickly, pursing your lips.

“I’m serious!” He stands and grabs his plate before moving around the bar to stand next to you at the sink, “That’s nothing. Sam set us up a few weeks ago, but it’s not going anywhere.”

“Oh yeah, neighbor?” You ask, mocking his previous playful tone, “And why is that? Since you wanna be all up in my shit.”

He shrugs, “She’s not my type.” He states matter of factly.

You laugh again, clicking your tongue as you roll your eyes, “What’s your type then?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you beam up at him, “Hmmm? Neighbor?”

He flips off the faucet and grabs for the hand towel hanging from the handle of the dishwasher. He dries his hands quickly before tossing it to the counter and turns toward you, resting his hip on the edge of the sink, “Girls who pretend that they aren’t staring at me every time their sister comes over, which is a lot.”

Your mouth drops open. 

“Girls who haven’t dated white boys since college.”

Your hands fly to your face as you gasp, “Oh my god! You heard that?” you squeal in embarrassment. 

He pries at your fingers as he chuckles before pulling you flush against his broad, hard chest, “I thought it was funny.”

You swallow hard before peeking up at him to find his soft eyes back on yours again. His eyes bounce wildly between yours before lowering to your lips. Your lips part as you stare at him, your heart racing a million miles a minute as your breath starts to quicken. He tilts his head as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, his eyes wandering around your face. 

Even in the current circumstances - your body pressed against his, those big blues all over you - you’re completely taken aback when he kisses you. You inhale deeply as his lips pull at yours. Your eyes flutter shut as he deepens the kiss with his tongue, sweeping it over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. You flatten your hands on his chest, letting them linger before you push them along his shoulders and down his biceps. 

He pulls away after a moment, a light smack sounding as your lips separate. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to open them for fear that this is all a dream. He lifts you from your feet and sits you on the counter. You feel his warm hands cup your face, his thumbs rubbing soft circles against your cheeks. 

“Open your eyes, doll.” He whispers.

You obey immediately. You slide your eyes open slowly to find that this is in fact,  not a dream. He’s here, in front of you, and capturing your lips with his again. You moan into his mouth as you slide your hands over his shoulders. 

Bucky pulls your hips toward his and lets his large hand linger on your hip. He pushes his fingers into your shirt, skipping them along your warm skin until he palms your left breast. You inhale sharply as electricity shoots through your body. 

You thought this would be hard for you and maybe - secretly - this is why you’ve waited as long as you have. The fear of being with someone new. But, as Bucky’s hands push along your skin, so nimble and soft, as his lips and tongue massage yours with command and purpose, you realize just how much you’ve missed this. It’s been too long since you’ve been excited, achy, almost desperate for someone to just touch you. 

You’ll deal with your conscience in the morning. 

You let Bucky push his eager hand underneath the band of your black yoga pants. You ball his t shirt into your hand as his fingers graze over your slick, sticky lips. He rests his forehead against yours - a smile curling on his lips. He takes a step back as his hand reappears from inside your pants. He grabs at the hips of the stretchy material and slowly peels them away from you, lifting each leg gently to free them.

He tosses your pants to the floor and sinks to his knees in front of you as he brings your right ankle to his mouth. He plants a warm, gentle kiss just on the inside of your foot, tossing his eyes toward yours quickly before returning them to your long legs. You bite your bottom lip as he kisses his way toward your thighs, giving each ankle, calf, and knee ample attention as his fingers skirt toward your soaked, thin panties.

He pulls you sheer thong away from you with ease. You shiver when the air caresses the heat between your legs. He stands as he slips his fingers between your lips, groaning again as your wet warmth envelopes his digits.

You push your hips into his hand as he strokes your clit, slipping it between his fingers to brush along the length before rubbing circles against it. Curse words fall from your lips as you roll your hips into his devilish fingers - random synapses firing rapidly inside your overdue body. 

You’re tired of waiting. You lean up as he teases your pussy and pull his chest closer to yours. You kiss him hard and moan into his mouth before you pull away. Your tongue darts out from behind your lips to lick from his chin to the tip of his nose. 

His eyes glint in the moonlight with delight. 

You stare back at him with confidence as the candle light dances across your figures. You reach for his belt, unbuckling it slowly, pulling it from around his waist, only to discard it with a loud thud against the hardwood floor. You pop the button of his jeans and slip the zipper down the track before dipping your hands into the denim. You keep your eyes on his as the tips of your fingers brush along his hard cock. 

Ooh, hunky neighbor.

You pull him free with no hesitation and slide your hands along him, smiling to yourself as his eyes flutter. You wrap your legs around his waist again to scoot toward the edge of the counter and to push him closer. You guide him toward your entrance, teasing him slightly as you rub his dick against your clit and through your folds. You press the tip of his cock at your entrance and grip his forearms - wanting him to do the rest.

He pushes slowly, both his eyes and yours cast toward your connection as he disappears into you. You ball the soft cotton fabric of his shirt in your hands as your body spreads and close your eyes as you relish in the fullness. He presses his chest to yours and holds you to him as he starts to withdraw, expletives falling from his mouth when he pushes in again - even deeper. 

Within minutes his pace has quickened. One of his long arms is hung around your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as the other holds his weight against the counter. He’s still trying to be gentle, knowing it’s been a while for you, but his hips are almost feverish. Pushing and pulling, with a slight hitch every now and again as shudders ripple down his spine.

Your moans echo throughout the kitchen as they bounce off the walls. You let your head lull as your body lunges with each one of his deep thrusts. You clench your muscles to make your pussy constrict around him to add to the sweet pressure. Your skin is on fire, your head swimming, as the dull ache in the pit of your stomach grows with each push of his hips.

He reintroduces the pads of his fingers to your clit as he straightens up, pulling his chest from yours. They’re quick and fluid, rubbing fast circles before slipping along the length of your clit. His eyes dart between yours and his hand before he dips in to capture your lips with his own. 

“Come on baby girl,” he coos, egging you on, “I know it’s been so long, baby.”

He wants you to cum. Begs you to, almost. It’s been so long that you’ve actually been treated like a living, breathing woman - and not just somebody’s fuck toy - that his words do you in. He drives you to the absolute edge of your orgasm, and you let him push you right over.  

You don’t even recognize the sound that scrapes at the back of your throat as your walls constrict around him. The ripples of your orgasm splash over you in waves, soft at first as you start to tremble. The waves crash harder and harder throughout your body as he punishes your cunt with his hips, drawing the orgasm out of the depths of you. You tense hard, digging your nails into his skin, gritting your teeth as you mewl as the most intense part of the eruption powers  through you. 

A warmth spreads through you as you continue to cum, Bucky’s grunting growing loud and deep as he spills into you. Your muscles flex as Bucky falls on top of you, nuzzling his face into your neck, his hot breath sticking to your skin. You tighten your legs around his waist as your head and body start to come down from the high he’s provided. A lazy smile forms on your lips as the urge to giggle fills your chest.

You can’t stop it as the light laughter rolls through you. You feel Bucky chuckle against you, his cool lips brushing against your hot skin, “Sorry,” you say through your laughter

He laughs again, this time fuller, the sound calling to the butterflies in your stomach again. He leans back - just to look at you. His eyes wander around your face like he’s trying to etch it into his brain forever. 

You enjoy having his eyes on you. You enjoy his full attention. 

The two of you stare at each other for a while, his fingers tracing yours slowly. The low buzz of electricity sounds through the house suddenly, and within seconds, the two of you are doused in artificial light. The TV pops on in the living room, the microwave and oven beeping as they both reset. The peace of the moment slips away. 

“Bummer.” He whispers, kissing the tip of your nose.

Bucky takes a breath. He closes his eyes as he brings your fingers to his lips to inhale your scent before splattering kisses along them. The two of you separate, physically and emotionally, and dress in silence. 

Once you’re clothed, you both move toward the front door and out onto the porch. You walk side by side through your yard as the moon lights the way. Light fills Bucky’s house as the two of you set onto his porch. You smile softly, dropping your eyes as he turns toward you.

“I really did come over to just check on you,” he chuckles, running his hand over the top of his head, “I don’t want you to think - “

“I don’t,” You cut him off, “Thank you for checking on me.” You wink at him, causing him to laugh again, “I’ll see you around, neighbor?”

He nods slowly, “You know where to find me.”

You shoot him a finger gun as you step down off of his porch, “You’ll be the first person I call the next time the power goes out.”

He wiggles his fingers at you as you retreat back to your own house, his eyes on you the entire way. You peek at him out of the corner of your eye as you reach your front door, flashing another smile toward him before stepping inside. 

You have the best night’s sleep that you can remember.

You’re up with the sun. You head out the front door toward your car and squint as you find a folded piece of paper stuck in the frame of the drivers side window. You pluck it from its place and smile widely as your eyes scan over the handwritten note.

Not sure what time you get off work… but I think my power will be out around 7… after I make you dinner, that is ;) - B

[vannahfanfics]

Head in the Clouds

Category: Friendship Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Shota Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada

Hey, everyone! Here’s my piece for the EraserMic Bang 2021! It was super fun writing for these two!

Shota scrunched his eyes together as blaring noise invaded his eardrums, prying him out of the warm embrace of sleep and into the cold, harsh grip of reality. He groaned, rolling onto his belly to shove his head under his pillows, but the insistent tune bled through the feathers and linen to continue to beat against the sensitive membranes. Sighing deeply into the mattress, he cracked his eyes open. The sunlight filtered down through the cracks between the pillows, filling the gloomy space of his cocoon with dull gold. 

“All right, all right,” he grumbled as the peppy tune seemed to rise in intensity. He rose from underneath the pillows, the downy structures flopping on either side of him, and instinctively slapped his alarm clock. Though his palm met the button, the sound did not cease. Eyebrows crinkled in confusion, he looked to his bedside table to see that it was a full fifteen minutes before his alarm was set. He gawked at the bright red neon numbers showing 7:00 a.m., unable to process such an unearthly hour and the fact that the music had stopped. 

He jumped violently when it immediately started back up again. Illumination spilling from his phone screen finally attracted his attention. Who would be calling me this early in the morning? He grumbled, picking up the phone while scratching his head with the other hand. With his fingers still tangled in his tousled black locks, he peered at the phone to see Hizashi’s cheesy grin plastered on the phone screen. Despite the immediate urge to hang up and even block his number to get that sweet, sweet fifteen more minutes, he found himself sighing and swiping to answer. 

“What?” he muttered into the receiver, cognizant enough to hold the phone several inches away from his ear. A smart move, too, as Hizashi’s high-pitched voice immediately bellowed through the speakers, so loudly that they crackled, unable to handle the strain. 

“Gooooooood morning, Shota! Rise and shine! Let’s seize the day!” 

“No,” Shota huffed and hung up. Before he could even set his phone back down on the nightstand was it blaring again, the peppy tune rattling in his eardrums. Despite his better judgment, he swiped to answer again and pressed the phone to his ear angrily. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Of course I do. I wanted to catch you before you started getting ready for school.” 

“Why? I could have used those fifteen minutes!” Shota pouted while flopping back on his belly. The comforter embraced him like a friend, enveloping him in soft warmth. He found his eyes drooping already, but Hizashi was quick to cut in and yank him back into the waking world. 

“Because, my dear Shota! Do you know what day it is?” 

“Uh… Wednesday?” 

“Not just any Wednesday!” Hizashi tutted, and Shota just knew his friend had his eyes closed and was waggling his finger like he was contradicting a child. “It’s Third-Year Skip Day, where hot-blooded high school third-years abandon the classroom to take to the streets, reclaiming their youthful fervor before the harsh adult world takes it away. Let us embark, Shota!” 

“Embark by yourself,” Shota said huffily and hung up again. He flopped into the mattress, inhaling the fresh scent of his laundered linen. He made the mistake of not flipping his phone to silent mode, however, as within a second that stupid ringtone was howling in his ears again. Really, he should change Hizashi’s ringtone to something less annoying. Groaning, he didn’t bother raising his head when he put the phone back to his ear. “You’re not going to let me rest, are you?” 

“Why rest when we have the whole day ahead of us?” Hizashi tutted matter-of-factly. Shota rolled his eyes so far back into his skull he could feel the ligaments strain to keep from snapping. Maybe if they did he would be spared Hizashi’s antics, but then again, spending the day in the hospital would be an even bigger drag. He also kind of needed them for his Quirk. “I’m already on the way to your house, so you might as well get up and about, Shota~” Hizashi trilled. Despite his happy tone, Shota knew Hizashi well enough to read the hidden threat. “Either you get out of bed now, or you have to deal with me getting you out of bed the hard way.” The last time that happened, Shota had been taken to the hospital because they were afraid one of his eardrums had burst. 

“Why do I put up with you?” he snarled as he obediently wiggled out from the bed, his cold feet immediately seeking the warmth of his slippers. 

“Because I remind you of just how much fun life is!” Hizashi chortled, making Shota roll his eyes again. He shuffled to the closet, swinging it open to drag some sweatpants and a tee shirt off the hangers. At least he wouldn’t have to wear that stiff, stuffy, uncomfortable school uniform. He tucked the phone to his ear as he pulled on the sweatpants. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I expect breakfast is going to be involved if you’re waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn.” 

“Of course, who do you take me for? I got your favorite.” 

Shota’s mouth watered at the promise of black coffee and an egg-and-toast sandwich from the nearby convenience store. Hizashi knew Shota well, and that included how to bribe him. 

He gripped the phone in his hand while pulling the tee-shirt over his head, then put it back to his ear to quip, “All right, I’m in.” 

“Good! I’m here.” 

Shota trundled downstairs, greeting his parents who looked like they were stroking out seeing their son awake so early; they looked outside to see Hizashi’s brightly-colored piece-of-shit car, though, and relaxed. Only Hizashi could cook up a scheme to drag Shota out of bed, and that usually involved an egg-and-toast biscuit. Shota grunted his farewells while tugging on his sneakers, then ambled out of the house down to the curb, where Hizashi was parked. He had his windows down, fingers drumming on the wheel as classic rock belted from the bass-boosted speaker system. 

“You’re gonna get a noise complaint from the neighbors,” Shota gruffed as he slid into the passenger seat. 

“Wouldn’t be the first,” Hizashi hummed while passing over a greasy bag. Shota pulled out the sandwich and unwrapped it, then wasted no time in sinking his teeth into the buttered toast. His eyelashes fluttered and an unabashed moan filtered out around the dripping egg yolk and crunching bread. 

“God, that old man makes the best fried eggs,” he muttered around his mouthful. Hizashi chuckled while putting the car in drive, turning up the stereo as he peeled off down the streets. It was too early even for the office workers’ morning commute, so the streets were clear as he zipped down them, probably way over the speed limit. The cops weren’t going to be out this early yet, either. Shota sucked yolk and grease off of his fingers, then looked at Hizashi. “So, what are your grand plans for this Third-Year Skip Day?” 

“You’ll see!” the blond grinned. He’d left his hair down today, so the tresses of gold ruffled in the breeze, skipping around his face and reflecting in the bright emerald of his irises. He swept the loose strands out of the way as he gave Shota a sideways look. “Let’s just say we’ll be leaving our mark on the world!” 

“As if graduating from U.A. doesn’t?” Shota questioned before chomping down on another large section of his sandwich. Hizashi just shook his head with a scolding waggle of his finger, clicking his tongue like Shota had disgraced him. Shota rolled his eyes and focused on sucking the remainder of the fried egg from between the two pieces of toast, savoring the smooth yolk over his tongue. After that he shoved the two yolk-soaked, half-eaten pieces of bread into his mouth, cheeks bulging like a chipmunk’s. He washed it down with his coffee, guzzling it down even though there was no sugar or cream in the bitter liquid. 

“It’s a wonder you don’t go into cardiac arrest, throwing it back like that,” Hizashi laughed. Shota crumpled the coffee cup in his hand and gave his friend a sour look. 

“Oh, like you’re one to talk, drinking that battery acid.” 

“Energy drinks are not battery acid!” 

“They might as well be.” 

Hizashi tipped back his head at Shota’s bickering, his laugh snatched up by the wind swirling between the two open windows and carried out into the early-morning streets. So much energy for so early in the morning, Shota thought while reclining into the torn fabric of Hizashi’s passenger seat, but not bitterly. There was something so electric about Hizashi that kept him coming back, that made him tolerate the man’s eccentricities. After all, despite his loudness and kookiness he had been a good friend to Shota, especially when he needed it most. 

“You think he would have come with us?” he asked quietly. Shota didn’t even think Hizashi heard him over the pumping of the radio, but the blond hummed in response, the rings on his fingers striking the steering wheel as he drummed them incessantly over the surface. 

“Absolutely,” he said, but his smile was dimmer than usual. Shota should have known better than to bring it up, but he couldn’t help it. The thought had germinated within him almost too quickly, the bloom of thought taking over his mind in its entirety to force its way out his throat, into the rapidly rising sun. “You were always the stick in the mud out of the three of us.” 

“Yeah, and he was the craziest. It probably would have been his idea in the first place, and he’d’ve cooked up a scheme ten times crazier than yours — and probably highly illegal.” 

“Hey, now,” Hizashi pouted, looking at him petulantly. “My scheme is quite crazy, thank you very much.” He looked back to the road, smiling wanly. “But he always did have a flair for the dramatic, that guy…” 

They fell into a silence as Hizashi pulled off the main road onto a side street leading into the manufacturing district. He drove into the gravel parking lot of an abandoned brick warehouse; the broken windows loomed ominously dark and the metal garage doors rattled in the wind. Shota wondered why Hizashi chose here of all places to have their grand adventure, but couldn’t ask because the man was leaning over the center console, fishing around for something in the backseat. 

Shota raised an eyebrow when his friend produced a large plastic bag filled with various cans of spray paint. 

“So we’ve resorted to vandalism?” he questioned, and Hizashi shot him a playful wink. 

“Relax, Shota! It’s an abandoned warehouse.” 

“Yet we’re still defacing public property.” 

“It’s not defacing if it’s art~” Hizashi trilled, picking up a can of pink spray paint and waving it around emphatically. Shota looked doubtfully at the cans; he’d never really been an artist, but looking at them, he was beginning to get an idea of what he could put on the walls. He picked up a can of light blue paint thoughtfully, giving it a shake and listening to the rattling inside. Then, he popped the door open and stepped out of the car. 

“All right, but if we get arrested, I’ll kill you.” 

“Yahoooooo!” Hizashi howled, the sound grating in Shota’s ears and making him look around wildly. With the blond’s excited yowls bouncing around the early morning air, they might get caught before they had the chance to deface anything. Shota shot him a glare, and Hizashi only apologized with a sheepish smile. Together they toted the heavy back of spray cans up to the wall, depositing them in the gravel and then staring up at their blank, expansive canvas. 

Shota took the blue paint and began spraying it in wide arcs across the brick. 

“Have you decided yet what you wanna do, ‘Zashi?” 

The blond looked at him with a raised eyebrow, apparently surprised by the question. He then shrugged and took a white can, spilling the paint across the dirty brick. 

“I’m not sure yet,” he admitted, his tone neutral. “I know we graduate soon and we’re supposed to have some kind of plan, but… There’s just so many options, yanno? Like I know we’re all gonna go on to be heroes, but… I’m not sure yet what kind of hero I want to be, what I want to do to inspire the next generation.”

Shota continued painting arcs across the wall. He was admittedly surprised; Hizashi had always seemed the most put-together of their friend group, but he supposed that everyone hid doubts behind their smiles, even guys that smiled like they wanted to put the sun out of business. Hizashi seemed to sense his thoughts, as he tossed an amused smile over his shoulder. 

“That isn’t to say I’m not excited, though. You can’t help but be, ending one chapter of your life to go on to the next.” 

Shota just grunted, though he wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or opposition. To him, this was just a part of life. The diploma was just the ticket to the next pain in the ass. 

“What about you, Sho?” 

Shota stepped away from the wall to inspect his base layer, then took the white can from Hizashi. He was quiet as he spurted little bits across the blue, accents making his vision come to life. What did he want to do? He knew what type of hero he wanted to be — underground, low-key, out of the limelight. But even Shota couldn’t help but wonder what that meant. As a hero, he was supposed to inspire; who would he inspire from the shadows? 

He wondered what he would have to say about it. Probably something about thinking too hard, that he just needed to live in the moment, and everything would fall into place as it would.

“I’m not too sure either.” Shota smiled, grabbing a dark blue can next. “But… Eventually, I think that I would like to maybe become a teacher.” 

“You?” Hizashi gasped, jaw nearly hitting the ground with how hard it dropped open. “Never pinned you as the type to deal with kids, Shota!” 

“I mean, right now I don’t feel any kind of way about them,” he shrugged, then sprayed more paint across the wall. “Someday I may feel stronger. They are our hope, or at least, I feel like that’s something he would say.” Hizashi looked at the image taking shape before Shota; then, wordlessly, he grabbed a can of paint and started adding to the art slowly taking shape, as if their minds had melded and they now shared the exact same vision. 

“That is something he would say. He was always a corny bastard.” 

“Yeah, he was,” Shota chuckled. “He usually was right, though.” For several minutes, the only sound was the whooshing of the paint as it spurted from the spray cans and the wind rustling the grasses springing up from the gravel lot. Shota wiped some paint that had dyed his fingers onto his sweatpants, streaking the gray fabric with colors. “I know everyone is saying that by now we should get our heads out of the clouds, but… I think that’s a rather nice place to be.” 

“Yeah,” Hizashi agreed. “You can see everything from up there.” 

“Well, maybe not everything,” Shota chuckled. “My future’s still pretty hazy, but… Sounds rather nice to drift there on a cloud, rather than head straight there.” 

“Look at you, getting all philosophical,” Hizashi laughed. “I think that old man mighta laced your eggs.” 

“Nah, I’m probably just delirious from being woken up at such an ungodly hour.” 

“Hey!” Hizashi laughed again, elbowing him a little in the ribs. Shota smirked at him and elbowed him back. “Trust me, you’re gonna thank me for this later! Ten years down the road, you’re gonna come to be all ‘Oh, Hizashi, thank you so much for dragging me out that fateful Wednesday! It was the highlight of my life!’”

“You mean I’m still gonna be stuck with you in ten years?” 

“You’re so heartless!” Hizashi fake-cried, jutting out his bottom lip. Shota just snorted, very immune to Hizashi’s attempt at puppy-dog eyes, and put the finishing touches on their mural. They stepped back to admire it, and just then the sun peeked over the clouds, spilling rays all over the wall to illuminate their work. The light blazed over the large white cloud dominating the wall, and made the sharp rays of the rising sun peeking over the cloud shine a brilliant gold. The blue hair of their long-lost friend rippled like water around his dozing head, as he lounged on the cloud with headphones over his ears, drifting along the winds rather than worry about where he was going. That’s the kind of person Oboro Shirakumo was, and somehow he’d dragged their heads in the clouds, too. 

He and Hizashi exchanged a silent fist-bump. They stood there for a moment, just staring at the artwork and wondering how things could have been. Still, they couldn’t change them now. They could only sit on their clouds, coasting the winds until they ended up where they would. Even though all the world stretched out before them, Shota believed that it would be a merry place indeed. 

“Hey,” Hizashi spoke up after several minutes. “How about another egg sandwich?” Shota didn’t even have to answer; they both moved in unison to begin packing up the spray cans. After all, the best thing to snack on while riding the clouds to somewhere was that old man’s damn good egg sandwiches — and a coffee, of course. Couldn’t sleep through the ride.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[chappedandfadedvds]

Dec 23rd, Wednesday 17:45

„Tell them, I said hi.“

„It is really nice, you have no idea. I’ll send you pictures later.“

„Tell them, I said hi, Jens.“

„Shh.“ He huffed a laugh under his breath, trying to keep his voice steady as he was under the brazen attack of fingers poking his side, in a quest to tickle the poor older boy talking on the phone. „Sorry, we need to go, We are watching a film..mhm...uh...absolutely.“

„Jens.“ His boyfriend whined, having listened in on the whole conversation, when Jens had left the group to pick up his mom’s call. She had texted him a little time ahead, to not have her son get overly worried about her name lighting up on his screen. He was very thankful for the consideration on his mother’s part, as he surely would have suffered a small stroke form an unannounced call. But like this it had been very pleasent to catch up and hear his mom’s voice be drowned out by Lotte screaming at them in the background. Apparently all was well.

„Oh and Lucas misses and loves you very dearly, from the bottom of his heart, I’m ordered to tell you.“

„I said to tell them hi. What the hell?“ 

Lucas was giggling into the hoodie of Jens, as he buried his face in his chest. Jens just grinned down at the curls of hair that he went to rest his chin on. He smiled at the flustered boy, it probably looked quite cheesy from the outside. But the comfortably felicity that rushed through his vains, made him not care for anything other than the happiness of the people closest to him.

Oh lord, he was in deep, wasn’t he? Someone punch him, right now.

„My mom says, that they love and miss you as well. I think they like you more than me.“ Jens added in jest to the iteration of his mother’s words. ‘Oh for sure’, was the audacious comment he recieved in turn from the woman at the other end, leaving Jens to gape at his screen, when he quickly pulled it back to check if the caller hadn’t changed. The betrayal, Jens thought amused as he answered, with a feigned pout on his lips. „What, no mom, I’m your favourite.“

The laugh was addictive that echoed from the speaker by his ear. He couldn’t not chime back at her just as cheerfully. „Alright, talk to you soon. I promise! Love you too.“

He hung up and lowered the phone to his side, to let it slip into his sweats’s pocket, before he also slung the second arm around his boyfriend bodies to squeeze him tightly. Even against the yelping complaints, that only doubled, when he briefly lifted the boy off the ground in an attempt to carry him back towards the living room. But as Lucas just wouldn’t stop wiggling in his arms, he let him down three wobbling steps in.

„You are an idiot.“ Lucas grinned, his laugh stifled by Jens leaning in to kiss him into silence. 

„Can someone get the remote?“ Luca shouted from the corner of the sofa enwrapped in a blanket that hid all but her face away. It was a challenge to still be able to find some space inbetween the group waiting for the two boys to join. Jens let go of the younger boy, his eyes darting towards the tv, where the remote rested just infront of it on the floor. Picking it up, he threw it over, gently enough that it wouldn’t hurt if it accidently hit.some unlucky soul. To his surprise though Luca catched it with ease, blowing him a thankful kiss in return.

„Why are we watching ‘Rise of the guardians’ again?“ 

Lucas took the place next to Jens on the floor, that was barely visible under the wild mix of blankets and pillows, all stolen from every room to create one ginormous cushion. All of them scatered across the makeshift bed. It was quite cosy to snuggle up with everyone else infront of the tv next to the burning fireplace. 

„It’s tradition.“ Robbe quickly explained, smirking up from where his head rested on his boyfriend’s chest next to Jens on the floor. „It also stars Sander.“

„What?“

„The main character, jack frost, was a brown haired boy before it turned white. Sander also dressed up as Sinterklaas. So yeah. Ignore them.“ Jens explained, dodging Sander’s elbow that was about to dig into him.

They had watched this movie last year at the flatshare. It was the main cause for everyone’s excitment to watch it, when Aaron had suggested it over breakfast. Today had been an especially snowy day, the freezing east-wind blowing vigorous, enough to keep everyone huddled up inside. It wasn’t storming per se, but it was close. 

Thus the perfect day to enjoy one film after the other. They already had watched ‘Home alone’ and ‘Die Hard’ for all the different reasons that didn’t matter. And now, after a break to prepare a new round of tea and have plates refilled with chocolates and cookies, they turned on the next film. Rise of the Guardians.

„I’m already sold.“ Lucas joked, winking over Jens’ head at Sander, flipping him off through a joyful chuckle. He felt the younger boy leaning into his side, the head just pressed against his side by side. He unwrapped one of the small chocolate angles, letting it melt on his tounge, as his eyes watched the film’s opening. The wind almost no longer audible, as the music dwelled up and was all that filled the dim lit room.

__ __ __ tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

[pikapeppa]

WIP Wednesday

DECEMBER IS OVER AND WRITING CAN GO BACK TO NORMAL AND OMG I HAVE THINGS TO SHARE FOR A WRITING TAG MEME AT LAST!!!

I’m gonna go nuts and share a bit from both my WIPs this week because I’M JUST EXCITED TO HAVE STUFF TO SHARE OK

From Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris/Rynne Hawke and the Inquisition): we launch into the Jaws of Hakkon DLC! In which Fenris and Dorian are stupid very good friends.

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

“We’ll focus on finding the bear and inspecting this island,” Fenris said. “I can think of a special role for you in luring the bear out of hiding, in fact.”

Dorian raised his eyebrows. “What role is that?”

“Bait,” Fenris said succinctly. 

Dorian barked out a laugh. “You mean because I’m so tempting and delicious?”

“No. Because you glitter,” Fenris said. He eyed Dorian’s silver-studded robe with disdain. “The bear will see you from a mile away.”

“Ah, Fenris, don’t be jealous,” Dorian said soothingly. “I can have something equally glittery tailor-made for you anytime. Though Hawke would be jealous, I think, if you and I were to match…”

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

From Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me (i.e. Cullen/Piper Lavellan and Fenris/Rynne Hawke pirate AU with @schoute): Piper and Rynne are also stupid also very good friends. 

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

Rynne elbowed Piper. “You and Cullen didn’t come back to the camp before I fell asleep. What were you up to out in the forest for that long?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Piper grinned at her. “Wouldn’t you like to know, you filthy-minded wench?”

“I would, I would!” Rynne said eagerly. “Tell me every sordid detail. Quickly, before Cullen comes over and his face goes up in flames.”

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

Tagging forward to @faerieavalon @cornfedcryptid @serial-chillr @johaeryslavellan @schoute @midnightprelude @elveny @aban-asaara @obvidalous @alyssalenko @solas-disapproves @barbex @dafan7711 @kita-lavellan @river-of-asgard @dickeybbqpit @thevikingwoman @lethendralis-paints @levikra @iarollane @charlatron and anyone else who wants to share a snippet of writing or art! HAPPY NEW YEAR, YA’LL! 🎉🎉🎉

[cchellacat]

Bucky/Darcy prompt: "speaking of chairs, your face looks like a fun place to sit"

Where Do You Sit?

Mostly fluff actually.

Darcy wasslightly tipsy.  No, Darcy was very tipsy.  She might have over done it just a little,but the champagne was flowing, and it was top shelf.  When Tony threw a party he went all out,especially when it was for a friend. Today was Hawkeye’s birthday.  Or soTony had insisted at any rate.  Clint waskeeping quiet on exactly how old he was, and Tony seemed sworn to secrecy.  The birthday boy himself, was hanging upside downplaying darts with Sam and Rhodey.  

The grandroom was decked out with streamers, there was some famous DJ handling the musicand the space was bursting with partygoers. Mostly SI and Shield people that had worked with Clint for years.  Of course, Darcy knew the majority of themfrom her own work with Jane and through living at the Tower.  She’d been twirled around the dance floor bymore than one eager man intent on taking her to bed, but she’d squished theidea for them fairly quickly.  Steve hadasked her to dance at one point, but she hadn’t the nerve to actually enquirewhere his erstwhile friend might be.  He hadbeen conspicuously absent tonight.  It wasa waste of a new dress and the killer heels she knew made her legs look likethey went on for days.  

She lookedaround again for the umpteenth time, hoping to spot Barnes, but if he was here,he was hiding pretty well.  Sidling up toJane, she lent a head on her friend’s shoulder and sighed.

“Darcy,are you okay?”

“I’m fineJanie, I’m just feeling floaty.”

Jane wrappedan arm around her and swayed to the music, the two women just taking a momentto be silly.  Across the room Thor’s deepvoice boomed and called for Jane.  Givingher friend a grin and pushing her towards the Thunder God, Darcy laughed andtold her to go have fun.  She swayedslightly and then decided some water was in order, before she fell over.

The partyhad been in full swing for hours now.  Shehadn’t meant to get this drunk but she’d knocked a few back almost as soon asshe had arrived, trying to steel her nerves. She knew he was going to be here, she had overheard him and Stevetalking in the cafeteria on Wednesday.  Thelonger it took for hm to show up though, the more she drank to ease hersorrows.  Ugh, she really, really, likedhim. They’d had maybe four interactions and each time Darcy had walked away,knickers soaked though and with the biggest grin on her face.  He flirted like a pro, had all the best linesand the way he looked at her?  His mouthcurling into that lazy, come fuck me grin, and made her weak at the knees?   Oh, he knew what he was doing, eyes twinklingwith mischief, but other than that, nada. He hadn’t even asked her out for coffee. God, she had it bad for him.  EvenJane had noticed and made a crack about love at first sight.  She had scoffed at that of course but in thedark she had admitted to herself that maybe, just maybe, she was just a littlebit in love with Bucky Barnes.

 For thenext few hours she mingled, dance and chatted with people, even at one pointhaving a little fun dancing with Natasha while Tony, Clint and Steve hadwatched, the two women, teasing them and trash talking them the whole time,that had been fun, but now she just felt dizzy and a little disappointed.  She still hadn’t seen hide nor hair of BuckyBarnes.

God theman made her dizzy with desire.  The firsttime they met she had been running from Clint and had barrelled into him.  He’d caught her before she fell over andclipped Clint so hard in the jaw he’d fallen on his ass.  Even lectured bird brain about playing nicewith dame’s and told him off for chasing her in the hall ways.

She flopsdown on the couch and Jane lines up some shots for them.  She really shouldn’t have anymore of she won’tbe getting anywhere on her own, but she’s too frustrated to care.

Of coursethat’s when Sargent McHottie enters the room. She nearly chokes on the tequila, but managed to swallow as he makes hisway over and takes a seat beside her.

“Having agood night Doll?”

“I am now!”  

Buckygrins at her sass and winks at her, enjoying watching the blush flooding acrossher cheeks.  He’d been running late thewhole day and had had to deal with a problem down in security that had ended uplasting hours.  He’d been planning to gethere early enough to get a few dances with the prettiest girl he’d ever met,but time and life seemed to be conspiring against him.  Every time he’s thought he could get her alonelong enough to ask her out, someone had interrupted. Now he’s here and happy tosee her at last, but she’s three sheets to wind and apparently, a handsy dunk.

Darcy isjust so happy that he’s there ad just drunk enough that she doesn’t care whatayoe thinks.  She crawls over and intohis lap and pulls his arms around her.

“I missedyou!”

“You did?”  he asks her, amusement dancing in his blue eyes.

“I suredid, you were meant to be here, to admire my dress.  Do you like it?”

“It’s a finedress doll, nearly pretty enough to do you justice.”

“Are youtelling me I’m pretty Bucky-bear?”

“Doll, youknow I am.  Prettiest girl in the world.”

Darcysnuggles in and enjoys the warm sensation of his hand on her hip through thethin satin.  

Another hourgoes by quickly and most people have drifted off or left.  Jane is carried off by a cheerful Thor whogives Bucky a pointed look of warning before taking Jane back to theirapartment.  In spite of Darcy’s protests,he convinces her to go home and sleep it off. All he had to do was promise to tuck her in and she’s folded like a fan.

Darcyswayed dangerously as they made their way down, Bucky shaking his head at herantics as she wobbled on a pair of heels, he thought made her legs look gorgeous.  

What littlemovement there was in the elevator seemed to take the last of her balance andBucky swung her up in his arms, taking the time to enjoys the way she melted intohim.  She was half asleep by the timethey got into her apartment and he flicked the light switch and then stoodthere, staring at the room.  Other than asmall low coffee table there wasn’t a piece of furniture to be seen.  

 “Darcy?”

“Yup?”

“Does youapartment always look like this?”

“Yes.”

“But,where do you sit, there’s no chairs?”

“Oh, whoneeds chairs.  I have a bean bag.”

“There’snot even a chair at your dining table”

“Hmm?  Oh, Thor broke both of them with his hammerwhen he and Jane were doing an experiment last week.  Hey, Bucky?”

“Yes,Doll?”

“Speakingof chairs, your face looks like a fun place to sit.”

Bucky wantsto groan, Darcy is still held up in his arms and she’s grinning at him andwiggling her eye brows, it’s the most adorable thing he’s seen in hislife.  He can feel the blush heat up hischeeks, he knows she’s serious even if the words have been delivered with justthe right amount of sass to count as a joke. If he didn’t have his arms full he’d have been hard pressed not to scruba hand over his face to hide the bashful grin that broke out.  

Darcy’sown smile widened at the way he crumbled at her line.  God she’d been saving that come on for years!  

“Doll,the only place you’re going to be sitting tonight is in bed, alone.”

Darcypouted.  

“But Iwant you to stay!”

“Doll..”

Darcyscrunched her fingers into his hair and gave an experimental tug. 

“Bed.”  She insisted, peppering his jaw with tiny kisses.

Bucky felt his resolve crumbling and kissed her forehead.

“Alright,I’ll stay.  But you need to get changed,and no funny business!”

“And akiss goodnight?”  She asks eagerly, bigblue yes round and pleading.

“And akiss goodnight.”  He agrees, he might bea gentleman but he’s not turning down a kiss from her when the thought makesher looks so happy.

It’s notlong before she’s changed and flopped down on the bed.  Bucky does his best to tuck her in, but shecomplains of being too warm and kicks the covers off like a three yearold.  He kicks off his boots and jeans toclimbs in beside her, hyper aware of every movement she makes.  

 With asigh he lifts his arm, smiling as she scoots under it quickly and lays her headon his chest.  He thinks she’s almost asleep when her voice whispers out n the dark.

 “Bucky?”

 “Yes,Doll?”

 “Did youforget to give me a kiss?

 Buckygrins down at her, almost snorting at the hopeful look on her face and relents.  Kissing Darcy turns out to be much different thanhe though.  For one, she surges up againsthis mouth and takes control before he can even blink, her body pressing intohis then slithering until she was on top, his hands somehow pinned down by hers.  She kisses like she means to devour him, heforgets why he shouldn’t and returns the kiss, slowly regaining control as heholds her, one hand escaping her hold and running under her tank top, skimmingover smooth skin.  

It turnsfrom excessively friendly to steamy hot in a seconds.  He uses all the little tricks he’s ever learnedto tease and direct her, trying to slow her down, but she’s like a force ofnature.  Nothing could deter her once she’dchosen a path.

Darcyleans into the kiss, enjoying every second, every feeling as he tongue assaultsher mouth, his teeth catching her lip, nibbling and sucking and altogether turningher insides to mush.  

She canfeel herself sobering up as everything comes into focus.  She wants him, badly, but he’s never going togo all the way tonight and she loved him for it. 

Reluctantly she slows the kiss till it’s returnedto a gentle meeting of lips, each of them exploring the other until she beaks away, huffing a littlebreath.

 “Coffeeand breakfast.”  She tells him seriously.

“Is thata date sweetheart?”

“Yes, itis, and so is lunch and dinner and if we get through all three, then tomorrownight I can have my wicked way with you.”

He blinksfor a few moments trying to take it in.

“Threedates, huh?”

“Yup, thatway I’m not breaking Jane’s three dates before sex rule.”

He’s lostfor words.  Sure he’s used to people beingblunter now about what they want but this is the first time anyone had done it quietto obviously.

 Darcy settlesback beside him and snuggles in as he processes her words, she’s pretty sureshe struck him dumb.

 “Where doyou want to go to dinner?”

 “Oh,well, lets have dinner here and the we can have desert right after.”

 “You’regonna be the death of me Doll.”

 “Don’tworry, you’ll enjoy it.”

“Oh I don’tdoubt it.”

 She yawnsand starts to drift a little, his metal hands trailing up and down her back.

 “Bucky?”  she aks sleepily.

 “Hmmmm?”

 “I’m goingto enjoy sitting on your face.”

 “Doll,you’re a brat.”

 Darcysmiles and closes her eyes.  Tomorrow wasgoing to be an excellent day.

@thesaltyduchess  @eurynome827 @book-dragon-13  @loricameback  @marvelousmeggi  @thatgirlkei  @omnomsauruswrites @the-ss-horniest-book-club