#and i literally shot up off the sofa and gasped so fucking loudly as a gaped

[queerweewoo]

you just know buck took a mental photo of eddie with this hair and... well. #spankbank

[angstyaches]

Why Do Bad Things Happen To Hungry People?

This is my first hunger fic in a very long time. How the hell are you supposed to title these things?!

It’s also the first ever fic from the Lucyverse, as I’ve decided to call it (basically, any fics that follow the day-to-day lives of Lucy’s flatmates).

CW: hunger, overworking, getting stuck on public transport.

___

Autumn waved as she entered the coffee shop, flinching as the little bell over the door went off to announce her arrival. She glanced up at it, gesturing with her palm for it to calm down, as though it should have somehow known she wasn’t a real customer. Payton’s heart skipped a beat as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and scampered away to an armchair by the window, not wanting to disturb her partner while they worked.

She was so freaking cute.

“Busy today?”

Payton tore their eyes off the back of Autumn’s head and turned to look at Jake, who had only started his supervisor shift five minutes ago. He was inspecting how much money was in the till as Payton laid out a fresh batch of muffins in the food case. The wafting scents of cinnamon and banana and chocolate were all so enticing that Payton could no longer ignore the fact that they’d had to work through lunch. Going an afternoon without food had left them with an ache in their stomach that had only been aggravated more by the stress of keeping the constant stream of customers satisfied. It had rained unexpectedly all afternoon, which had sent floods of park visitors running for shelter and warm drinks.

“Very,” Payton replied to Jake. “I don’t think we had any free tables for about four hours. We barely had time to wipe them down between customers.”

“Christ,” Jake grumbled, closing the till. “And you managed okay, even though Stephen called in sick?”

Payton gestured around themself, displaying the fact that nothing appeared to have burned down or crumbled. Part of them wanted to complain further about the toll the day had taken on them, but it felt better to just act confident about it. “Everything was fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“They should be paying you as a supervisor, you know,” Jake said. “I’ll talk to Anne about interviewing you.”

“Really? That would – that would be really cool.” Payton blushed, partly from the praise from their superior, but mostly because their stomach chose that moment to twist inside of them, releasing a long, rumbling growl. The music in the coffee shop was low and calming at this time of evening, but… maybe it would still muffle the sound?

When Jake double-glanced towards the front of Payton’s apron, it was clear that the music had muffled nothing.

“Sorry.” Payton placed a hand over their belly. “When Stephen couldn’t come, it meant I couldn’t take my lunch break.”

Jake frowned and glanced at his watch. “Your shift started at ten thirty, right? You haven’t had a break since then?”

Payton shook their head.

“Fuck it, go home. I’ll tell Anne you clocked out on time.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, you’ve only got another half-hour anyway, and the place is dead now.” Jake gestured to the room of thirty-six seats, of which only five were currently occupied. “Plus, your girl’s already here. No use in keeping her waiting.”

Payton was already wriggling out of their apron and heading for the door that led to the break room and lockers. “Thank you so much.”

Once they were in the break room, silence crashed over Payton like waves. The shop hadn’t been loud just now by any means, but they hadn’t been away from a din of any kind for almost ten hours. Their ears rang as they put their apron and work shoes in their locker and gulped a half-bottle of water that they found in there. The liquid hit their stomach like a solid lump of rock, but luckily it was lukewarm, and the discomfort didn’t linger for too long.

Payton didn’t linger either.

They tugged their jacket on over their buttoned shirt, wishing they’d brought something with a hood today, in case it decided to rain again before they made it to the tram. Maybe Autumn had thought to bring an umbrella, they reckoned, sighing in premature relief at the thought of her, waiting in the shop for them. They quickly pulled their headband off, brushing their dark bangs downwards and tossing the band into the locker for the next day.

As they pushed back through the door to the coffee shop, Payton felt like their feet had ceased to exist, leaving behind ankles that just floated through the air with a human body propped over them. They saw the back of Autumn’s head near the window, and they smiled to themself, momentarily forgetting the hunger and exhaustion and stress.

“See you tomorrow,” Jake called from behind the till.

Payton shot him a half-hearted salute, never slowing on their beeline to where Autumn was waiting. Well, it was less of a beeline than Payton would have liked; as though to personally inconvenience them, the coffee shop was full of tables and chairs and sofas, which needed to be manoeuvred around.

“Ooh!” Autumn exclaimed as arms snaked around her shoulders from behind the armchair. She dropped her book into her lap and reached up with one hand to tickle the back of Payton’s neck. “Hello, baby. Finished early?”

Payton mumbled an inaudible confirmation against her hair, not caring that they were probably messing up her ponytail. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Autumn said. “A little tired.”

“Me too,” Payton sighed, lifting their head but remaining slumped against the back of the armchair. They felt a gentle cramping in their stomach as they reconsidered their answer. “And hungry.”

“Huh.” Autumn reached up and tapped her book against the top of Payton’s head. The gesture was unnecessarily gentle, as though she’d hit them with something thicker than a paperback print of Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape. “Well, luckily for you, I’ve got all the makings of your favourite waiting in your fridge.”

Payton’s stomach clenched again, their heart lifting slightly. It had been tricky to get Lucy to agree to it, but Autumn had her own key to the apartment; not only did she call around to visit Payton so often that she might as well have lived there too, but there were often issues at home that she opted to spend the night away from.

But that wasn’t the point right now.

“Your famous sausage rolls?” Payton sank even harder against the back of the armchair, partly to be dramatic, but partly because their body literally weakened a little at the notion of Autumn’s cooking.

Autumn smiled up at them from the cushions. “Pastry’s already made. Just got to assemble and bake them. I got us some oven chips too. Oh – I forgot to check if you had any beans in the cupboard, though.”

“We’re four college students; of course we’ve got beans in the cupboard,” Payton assured her, loudly enough to disguise the fact that their stomach was growling again as they pictured the dinner they hadn’t known awaited them.

“Excellent point.” Autumn scooped up the strap of her shoulder bag and slipped her book inside. She smoothed down the hem of her pinafore as she stood up. “Ready to go?”

“Way beyond ready,” Payton smiled, watching her scoop up the umbrella that was resting against the arm of the chair.

 ***

Payton wriggled uncomfortably in a scratchy tram seat, unable to find a relaxed position where they didn���t feel painful pressure building up in their stomach. It was really starting to ache, now that there was nothing to keep Payton’s mind busy. They would have loved nothing more than to be home already, biting into the flaky pastry and warm, soft filling of Autumn’s sausage rolls and finally getting something into their cramping belly.

“You alright, baby? You’re quiet.”

“Am I?” Payton laughed. Their head was spinning just a little, and their voice was starting to sound shaky. “Sorry, I’m just very tired.”

It didn’t feel good to lie to Autumn, even if it was less a lie and more a concealment of the truth. She would never say the words out loud, but Payton knew that she thought of them as a pushover, both in matters at work and at the apartment. There were a lot of aspects of their job that she called unacceptable, and if she’d had her way, they would have quit the coffee shop by now. They had no idea how she would react if they became a shift supervisor and had to take on even more responsibilities, but Payton reckoned that was a discussion for another night when things were a little more certain.

In the meantime, it was best not to say anything about having to skip lunch.

Slipping their hands into the pockets of their open jacket, Payton subtly rubbed their middle, feeling their empty stomach roll around in distress. They tensed and held their breath, hoping to prevent any noises from emerging.

There was a sharp jerking motion as the train slowed to a stop. Autumn gasped lightly and put out a hand to stop herself from sliding forward in her seat. They both looked at each other and held the gaze for a moment before a voice crackled over the tram’s intercom.

“Apologies, folks, it’s just a minor technical issue. Service will resume shortly.”

“Shortly?” Autumn mumbled in annoyance. “Talk about vague...”

“Damn it,” Payton sighed, sinking lower in their seat and pushing their hands deeper into the pockets of their jacket. “Why do bad things happen to good people?”

Autumn chuckled; she was still sitting fully upright, leaning towards Payton’s seat as she tried to see up to the top of the tram. “Assumptive of you to refer to yourself as good people.”

“Not me, baby. I was talking about you.”

“Oh. Aw. Thank you.” Autumn smiled and reached out a hand, both to acknowledge Payton and to give herself some balance as she craned her neck. 

The hand landed lightly on Payton’s belly, which - in their slumped position - acted as an almost-flat surface for her to lean on as she continued peering up through the carts. She was probably expecting to see tram staff coming through, explaining the situation to the passengers; what she probably wasn’t expecting was to feel rumbling movement beneath her palm, which was accompanied by a loud, pinched growl.

Payton let out a little groan too, turning their face to bury it against Autumn’s shoulder.

“What’s going on, baby?” Autumn half-laughed, her eyes trained on Payton’s stomach as it vibrated under her hand again. She teasingly ran a finger between the buttons in their shirt, gesturing as though to peek under the fabric. “You hiding an angry tiger in there?”

“I told you I was hungry.”

“Yeah, but...” Autumn gasped and rubbed a wide circle across Payton’s belly as it roared again, prompting them to glance around and make sure the seats close to them hadn’t magically filled up with people in the last few seconds.

Autumn, on the other hand, had had her attention drawn away from anything to do with the tram, and towards a particular, grumbling organ. “Baby, what’d you have for lunch?”

Payton groaned again, wriggling a little further down so that their knees were pressed against the seat in front of them. They felt a red blush in their cheeks as Autumn sat back and peered down at their face.

They sighed, eyes trailing down to where Autumn’s hand was still resting on their belly. “The shop was really busy today, and the shift supervisor couldn’t come in, so I ended up working through lunch.”

Payton then held their breath again, both in anticipation of their stomach letting out another whine under Autumn’s palm, and of her response.

“You’re so good, baby.”

Payton raised their eyebrows. “Am I? You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course I’m not mad at you,” Autumn sighed. “I obviously don’t like it when you don’t take care of yourself properly, but I also wish I had your level of dedication.”

A smile played on Payton’s lips as they nudged the side of their head against Autumn’s waist. “Jake’s gonna see about getting me bumped up to supervisor.”

“And he should,” Autumn laughed, lifting her other hand to sweep Payton’s eyes out of their eyes. “You’re amazing at that job, and no one ever tells you enough.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Autumn leaned down to kiss the side of Payton’s head. “Just promise me that you’ll use your powers as supervisor for good. Like giving yourself lunch breaks.” She gently tapped one finger against Payton’s stomach. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Payton mumbled, burying their face as their chest fluttered. The glow of being praised and worried about lasted only a precious moment though, because there was still an empty belly in the vicinity, and it was determined not to let itself be forgotten in all the chatter.

“You’re mad at Payton though, aren’t you?” Autumn pursed her lips as she spoke to their stomach, as though she was talking to a cat. She patted her hand against Payton’s belly as it grumbled. “That’s okay, I’d be mad too, if my owner spent the day giving yummy food to customers and not me.”

The mention of food sent Payton’s thoughts drifting back towards the dinner that had been promised, and they groaned again, this time nudging their head right into Autumn’s lap. She bit her lip and glanced around at the nearby seats, once more confirming that there was nobody else in the cart.

“Comfy down there?” There was a tiny twist of irony in Autumn’s voice, but her tone was mostly genuine. 

“Kind of,” Payton said, using both hands to keep Autumn’s pressed to their aching gut. They glanced up at the grey ceiling of the tram, at the darkness that lay just outside the window, hopelessness welling in their chest as their belly rolled unhappily. “Just so hungry.”

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just wish I knew how long we were gonna be stuck here.”

“Me too,” Autumn sighed. “But no matter how long it takes us to get home, I’m still going to cook for you the minute we get in.”

“Mmm.” Payton smiled to themself and closed their eyes, letting go of Autumn’s hand as it began to work slow, gentle circles into their belly through their shirt. “Thank you.”

[smugzayn]

Sorry for what? (2/2)

You’re just Harry’s manager, and ignoring the fact that he’s been in love with you since day one, he accepts that. Of course, that doesn’t mean he will always accept that. When he invites you to spend the weekend at his family’s home in the countryside, you surprisingly accepts.Featuring miscommunications, skinny-dipping, and heartbreak. 

PART ONE

PART TWO

One week later, you were back in London - in your nearly bare flat with just a handful of sealed boxes, to be precise - packing the very last of everything you owned into a brown cardboard box. 

The last week, as far as you could remember, was the worst you had ever known. All you wanted to do was cry, and the worst part was that you couldn’t exactly figure out why. It was guilt, and yearning, and disappointment, and regret, and all the things that makes someone desperate to rip open their own chest, tear out their heart, and wonder what purpose it even served in the first place. 

But now you were done. Done packing, done crying, done wishing you could do it all differently. It was Saturday evening now, and you were set to move Sunday afternoon to a cottage in Gloucestershire and there was only one final task left to complete. 

So, at the end of the day (quite literally), you decided that there was no more time to twiddle away and Harry was the last empty box that needed to check on your to-do list. Running hadn’t worked out well for you last time, and you knew you would feel all the worse if you left London without so much as apologising to him. So, you rolled the windows down and turned the music up on your drive over to his flat and refused to let your cowardly heart betray you once again. 

When you knocked on his door, there was no response at first. Then, just when you were taking your first step down the stairs, the door swung open, and you nearly wished it hadn’t. Harry stood there with a darkness under his eyes, and it even seeped up to muddy his hazel pupils, and the scowl on his lips was tight with anger and betrayal, and he let out a scoff that ripped the breath from your lungs. 

He didn’t say anything, and you were too shocked to say much, either. He just turned and stalked back to where he had been sitting listening to records in the living room, and you followed him, shutting the door softly behind you. The room was dark, the setting sun no longer pouring through the tall glass panes, and the few lights Harry had on cast a warm, yellow glow through the room. 

You were surprised by how familiar and comfortable it all felt; you were less surprised how uncomfortable Harry looked as he sat down on the sofa and propped his feet on the ottoman situated between you and him. There was a half finished glass of rum by his feet and a bottle of it on the table next to him. 

“Can we talk?” you asked lamely when he stared at you after slamming the last of his glass. “Are you in the middle of something?”

“Do I look busy?” he grunted, looking about the room sarcastically as he poured himself another glass. “I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”

You swallowed a rush of anger that flamed through your chest as he looked at you derisively. Was he so blameless in all of this? Had he not told you to leave? Had he not kissed you? Did he truly think himself the only one worthy of contempt?

“I wanted to talk about what happened...at the lake.”

“Oh,” he said annoyingly congenially. “And here I thought you might want to talk about the weather.”

“There’s no need to be so nasty.” 

He grunted but didn’t bother to apologise; he slouched down further in his seat and sipped the glass held to his lips.

“Mr. Styles, first -” 

“Harry,” he corrected harshly. “You’re no longer - according to you - working for me. So, you will call me Harry or you will leave.” 

“Fine,” you uttered tersely, watching him top off his glass with an irritating amount of disinterest.

You wanted to scream, or smack the apathetic look off his face, but instead you stalked around to grab the rum bottle and place it in the kitchen. “Enough of that,” you muttered, plopping down on the sofa across from him. You took a deep breath and gathered your thoughts.

“First, I wanted to make sure you had received my letter of resignation, as there was no response-” he nodded bitterly when you paused “-Given the events of last weekend, I think it appropriate that we both move forward on our own professional paths - separately. Second, -”

Harry huffed loudly and drained the last of his glass. You half expected him to pluck out the ice cubes to suck up any remaining liquor. 

“-I take blame completely for blurring the lines of our relationship by attending your family home over the weekend. I never intended to make our professional relationship personal.” 

His next words were matter of fact and sharp. “That’s exactly why I invited you,” he dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. 

You tried to ignore the heat burning up your neck. “Well - that’s not - I did not realise that.”

“Obviously,” he shot back. “And now you do.” 

You flicked your eyes away from him, his intensity and the fervor behind his eyes boring more heat to your reddening face. He was angry, and vulnerable, and hurt. 

“Yes,” you agreed. Taking a deep breath, before looking back at him, and speaking softly, “I’m sorry for misleading you. I - I never meant to hurt you.” 

He sat back, a sardonic laugh making you flinch. Then a flicker of understanding crossed his eyes, and he could see that you were hurt, too. 

“You care for me,” he stated flatly, a softness replacing the steel in his voice. “Don’t you?” 

“Of course I do,” you spat reflexively, angry enough to grab the light to your side and smash it against the floor. 

“No,” Harry shook his head and stood up to sit next to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn to him, it was enough that the heat radiating off his body seemed to warm you to the touch. “No. I mean you truly care for me.”

No, you idiot. I love you. 

“Harry, this is ridiculous,” you stood just as he reached out to grab your arm. The warmth of tears were beginning to build behind your eyes and you couldn’t stand the onslaught of emotion building in your chest. You needed to finish this up and leave. “I’m your manager. It’s - it’s nothing more than that. You -”

“Is that why you left?” he stood up and grabbed both your hands in his. 

Harry thought he would shatter in the silence that followed. You could feel the beginning of the lie on your lips. It would be so easy to end it right there because you could see the desperation in his eyes and whatever you said would make or break him. And maybe you, too. 

Harry rubbed his thumbs over the top of your clasped hands. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. If Harry didn’t have hold of you, then you would have ran from the room right then. Ran from him, ran from London, ran from your stuttering heart and the hope in his face. 

“I love you,” he whispered, pulling you just slightly closer and watching as your eyelashes fluttered against the top of your cheek. There were little beads of tears weighing them down, and Harry leaned down slowly, giving you time to step back. When you didn’t, he kissed them away. “Since that first interview. I knew. I love you.” 

Your heart stopped in your chest. 

“How do you know?” you stuttered, watching a small smile lift the side of his mouth. “How can you be so sure? We’ve only known each other for -” 

“Four months,” Harry finished, and continued confidently. “And I know.” 

He hushed you when you began to say something. 

“You don’t have to know. You don’t have to say anything. I just need you to...to stay.” 

You couldn’t agree. You don’t know why. You were frozen in the spot, the only sign of your liveliness the beating of your heart and the warmth of your breath leaving your parted lips. 

“I - I can’t.” 

“What?” he gasped, and you could feel his body go rigid. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to be the woman who became a manager just to get with a celebrity. That’s not me. I’m not that person.”

“Fuck that,” he muttered angrily, but he pulled you even closer to him. “Stay here. Be my bloody manager, and the rest we will fucking figure out. But don’t leave.”

You didn’t say anything, and he turned from you, racking a hand through his hair in frustration. You could see his shoulders were tight with tension and even the hard lines of his back where his shirt clung were angry and hardened. 

He turned suddenly, his fingers wrapping around your shoulders. 

“Say it,” he demanded and you stared at him in confusion. “Tell me you don’t love me.” 

He ran a long finger down the line of your jaw. Your lips parted but whatever you were going to say died on your tongue. You could not have muttered a single word if your life had depended on it. His touch was so powerful, his warmth burning through your body, and sending tingles down your spine. 

“You can’t. Can you?” he asked, leaning in closer until your eyes fluttered close and you could feel the warmth of his breath. 

You shook your head. You were powerless, you were hopeless, you were desperately in love. 

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, giving you a moment to push back, but you were much too desperate for him now. You knew what he was doing. He wanted you to realise your feelings for him, too. And he would make you - through his lips, and his fingers, and the pull of you against his body. 

This wasn’t one-sided love, and you both knew it. 

You gasped into his mouth as his lips fell softly against yours. He thought, cruelly, that he could stop right now and leave you desperate for more. He knew he wouldn’t have the control and there would be other times to watch your frustrated protest. Instead, he ran his hand up your throat until his thumb could guide you further into him as his fingers wrapped behind your neck. 

“I fucking love you,” he slipped his tongue into your mouth when your lips parted more to give way to a sultry moan. He explored, taking in your scent, and the warmth of your touch. When he started kissing down your neck, and across your chest, his fingers dug into your sides, bunching up the fabric and making you quake with need. “Don’t ever run from me.”

“Harry -” you gasped when he unbuttoned your top as he found your mouth again. Just as quick, his lips were back on your chest, kissing your breasts, his thumbs masterfully working to undo your bra. Stupidly, without anything else to say, you moaned his name again. 

“Tell me you’ll stay,” he growled and you tugged at the hem of his shirt until he pulled it off. Your hands against his chest burned as you ran them across his body. 

You felt his tongue lick across the swell of your breast and your drowning-in-hormones-and-need brain didn’t have time to process that he had picked you up under the bum and laid you down on the sofa before he was suddenly leaning over you, one foot planted on the floor, and his knee wedged dangerously between your thighs. 

“I need you,” he muttered gruffly, staring down at you with a flame and desire in his eyes that was all new. “You can’t leave. You have to stay.” 

The gears weren’t all ticking, every part of you had been consumed by your need and desire for Harry, but it didn’t matter. 

“I’ve listed my house. I’m all packed,” you muttered and really it was a silly thing to say. 

Harry shrugged. “Then move in with me,” he decided easily. “I love you, and you can move in with me.” 

“But Harry -”

“Don’t argue,” he said in a low voice. “It doesn’t have to be forever, but it can be for now.”

“For now I will live with you?” 

Harry leaned down to kiss you, his hands knotting and pulling slightly in your hair, and the weight of his body pressing gloriously down on yours. 

“And you’ll stay,” he unbuttoned your blouse as he worked kisses down your chest and abdomen. When he finally had you undone, open, and exposed to his touch, he sat back slightly and waited. 

You didn’t know the answer. You didn’t know how to tell Harry you loved him. Did you need more time? Or some final show of loyalty or devotion? Or was the promise too much for you to give to another person and even to yourself?

As you stared up at him - his hair messy, his eyes warm with all the things you’ve dreamt about but never actually seen, and the softest smile warming his lips - you knew at least one answer. 

“For you, I’ll stay,” you whispered and you weren’t at all sure about love, but you would be damned if you weren’t going to try.

[masterpost]

[echo-hiraeth]

“I promise I won’t tell anyone” - Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: With all the new leads popping up with the new helpline, you and your partners struggle to keep up. On the brink of exhaustion you and Javier spend another late night at the office trying to find at least something useful.

Warnings: swearing, fluff

Masterlist

The clock read 2:47 AM, making you rub at your eyes once again. It was a desperate attempt at trying to relieve the strain from staring at the heaps of paperwork, but it only became more prominent. This new ‘call-in-to-get-a-reward’ measure was going to be the death of you. People called every minute, and most of the time it was just some stupid fucking prank. You had to give it to them though, Pablo was an expert at keeping you off his tracks and miles behind.

A loud thump pulled you out of your stream of thought. Javier had returned to the office, a new stack of papers scattered across his desk. He huffed, locking his eyes with yours, forcing a smile.

“Looks like we’ll be spending the night together again.”

You chuckled softly, almost blushing at the idea of it. He walked over to you, sitting on the very edge of your desk, making you shift in your seat. His hand tangled in his hair as he looked back and forth between you and the absolute mess that was your desk.

“If I need to spend one more fucking day reading through this bullshit I’m going to flip my shit,” you mumbled.

He bit his lip, suppressing a smile as he watched your brows knit together in frustration, you always looked so adorable when you were deep in thought. “When’s the last time you slept? Like, properly slept, as in not during your lunchbreak.”

“You underestimate my powers to nap absolutely anywhere at any time.” You sighed when he didn’t react to your poor excuse for a joke. “I’m sorry Javi – I don’t even know. I’m so tired I could just pass out on the floor.”

The tough DEA agent took your hand in his, slowly stroking his thumb over the soft skin of your palm. “Why don’t we take a little break, I can get us some coffee. Proper coffee, not this office bullshit.”

“As nice as that sounds, the sooner we get back to this, the sooner we can go home. There’s something here, I can just feel it.” You spoke, while trying to supress a yawn.

Javier shook his head, letting go of your hand and dragging himself back to the desk right in front of yours. He groaned while falling back into the chair, grabbing the box of cigarettes from the drawer and slowly lighting one, before looking up at you. “You work too much hermosa. Tell me if you find anything noteworthy.”

You felt a blush creeping up. Javier changed into a different person when it was just the two of you, the otherwise arrogant and curt agent became very affectious and gentle around you. It consisted of little things, coming to check up on you every so often, getting you lunch and coffee, offering to drive you back home. It was the way he’d always greet you with the kindest smiles and never go home before wishing you a goodnight and sometimes even giving you a hug. The small things grew into other things, lingering, delicate touches when nobody was watching, tugging on your vest to make sure you were protected before raids and other things like that.

These things didn’t help you with trying to deny your growing feelings for him. From the first day you’d worked together you felt something there, but you liked to tell yourself that it was just wishful thinking. However your suspicions only got worse after working together with him for months. Steve had teased you about it before, warning you about the absolute womanizer that Peña had become. He was right though, Javier wasn’t exactly known for his long-lasting, amazing relationships. You’d seen the women leave his apartment before, while sitting on the windowsill of your bedroom in the complex across from his.

“Hey, I’m seeing this one name that keeps popping up…” Javier informed as he gently slid a piece of paper over to you.

“I’ve seen it too, I remember putting it in one of the boxes though, didn’t think it was anything interesting.” You sat up a little straighter, intensely staring at the piece of paper.

“Do you remember which box?” Javier quirked his brow, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

You nodded, stretching your arms above your head in hopes of waking you up. “I’ll go get it.” Your legs popped as you stood up, your body weighing you down because of the sheer exhaustion you’d been experiencing the past few days. Your hands found their way to the desk, trying to support yourself.

Javier shot you a worried look as he saw you grimacing, he was just about to ask if you were okay when suddenly you just fell to the floor, your legs just giving out underneath you. He rushed to your side, trying to be as gentle as possible as he picked you up, being mindful to brace your head. Your head rolled back against his shoulder and your breaths evened out.

“Hermosa, open your eyes, I need you to look at me.” The worry in his voice was evident as he slowly went to sit back on the desk chair with you resting in his arms.

“M’fine jus-sleepy.” Your eyes only opened for a brief second, eager to close again as you gave in to the sleep tugging on your every fibre.

“Let’s call it a night, I’m taking you home cariño.” He spoke softly, trying not to disturb you too much as he went to stand, clumsily trying to get a hold of your purse and his jacket, which contained his car keys.

The next time you opened your eyes you found yourself in the passenger seat of his car, your hand in his as he slowly drove towards your apartment complex. You sighed deeply, your neck hurting from the unnatural positioning.

“You okay?” He gave your hand a squeeze as he glanced over to you for a brief second.

“Javi… you could’ve just woken me up.” You slumped forward chuckling lowly while trying to reposition yourself, still holding on to his hand.

“Y/n you literally passed out. Not a fucking chance.” He shook his head, smiling as he looked over to you once again. “Besides, you looked so cute with your little pouty lips.”

Oh yeah, now you were blushing, completely embarrassed out of your mind as you tried to hide your face behind your hands. “If you so much as tell anyone about this, I swear I will kill you.”

A wholehearted laugh sounded through the car as he brought your hand to his lips, slowly pressing them to your knuckles. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.” He dramatized the ‘anyone’ trying to make you laugh.

He expertly parked his car in his usual spot, racing over to your side of the car to help you out. Which landed him a swift “wow what a gentleman”. He put an arm around your waist, steadying you because you were still a little wobbly.

An innocent smile played on your lips as he looked at you, your faces only inches apart, you could feel his breath on your face. “Javi.. I’ll be okay, you don’t have to do all of this.”

Your hands trembled as you looked for your keys in your small purse. Gently, he took it from you, holding one of your hands in his, as an attempt to ease the trembling, while you leaned up against the door.

“Come on, it’s my pleasure. It’s not every day I get to help my ever so stubborn, sleepy partner out.” While talking he easily unlocked your door, helping you inside, setting you down on the blue sofa. “Do you need some water or something?” He inquired as he looked around your living room. It was such a different scene compared to his, so… you. It made his heart beat a little faster.

“Could you maybe help me to my room? My legs won’t stop shaking.” You gave a shy chuckle, already feeling like you were asking too much.

To your surprise he grinned, smoothly scooping you up in his arms, making you gasp.

“Of course princesa.” He pressed his lips to your temple as you nuzzled yourself into his neck. You couldn’t see it, but Javi was blushing, smiling as he held you, feeling at peace and incredibly happy in the moment.

What you didn’t know, is that he’d stopped seeing those infamous women weeks ago, no longer able to hide his own feelings for you anymore. He had spent countless nights staying up, trying to convince himself against all of it. The truth is, he was terrified of being vulnerable, let alone be in a relationship with someone that meant so much to him. But after months and months of dancing this tango in his head, he only grew more fond of you, and struggled to stay away from you from too long. The way you walked, the way you cared about anything and everyone in that office… He was absolutely smitten.

“All settled?” He chuckled as you slid under the covers, flashing him a smile of contentment.

“A goodnight kiss would be nice?” You were already beating yourself about what you just said, blaming it on your exhaustion.

He sucked in a breath, surprised at your request. “Let’s talk about that when you’re not sleep drunk hermosa. I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’ll bring you to work myself.”

As Javier turned to leave you sat upright, grabbing his wrist. The look in his eyes was a telling one, piercing yours with a look of adoration and longing.

“Stay. Please.” The words came out soft, tender and careful.

The otherwise so tough man cleared his throat at your request, shuffling on his feet. “Are you sure?”

You gave an eager nod, lifting the covers and scooting over. It didn’t take long for him to strip down to his shirt and underwear, sliding into the bed next to you. He held his breath when you laid your head down on his chest and pulled him in closer.

“Don’t worry Peña, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he smiled at your reprise of his words.

“Still want that goodnight kiss?”

[alderaani]

All The Things You Say

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x Reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, swearing, almost smut. Not quite NSFW but trying its best.

Rating: NC-17 prob? To be on the safe side.

A/N: Shout out to my boyfriend for inspiring this because he would not stop laughing at the scientific inaccuracies in The Avengers while we were trying to watch it the other day. I didn’t even mean to write this, it just kinda happened. This is the second time I’ve posted this!!! Actually getting quite stressed with the way the tags just will not work for me - I’m finding the first time I try to post something it will show up in the tags for about an hour, and then just disappear and never come back?? Pls lemme know if you have any hacks for this.

There is a bark of laughter next to your ear, the chest you are using as a pillow shaking with poorly suppressed mirth.

“Come on, there’s no way he’s still alive!” Fives exclaims. You drag your eyes away from the holofilm you’re watching in time to see him throw his head back and laugh again, as on screen the hero dives out of a roll and comes up shooting. “That’s not even how you hold a blaster!”

“Fives,” you whine, pushing your elbow into his stomach. You may as well not have bothered, for all the good it does; the solid muscles of his abdomen don’t budge even slightly. “You’re talking over the good bit!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Fives says, shifting to press a warm kiss to your cheek. He is absolutely not sorry – he’s been doing this the entire holo. You’re so comfortable and warm curled up against him, though, that it’s hard to mind all the interruptions too much. One of his large, calloused hands is resting firmly on your hip, the heat of his palm burning through the thin shorts you’re wearing. Kriff, you’ve missed this. Your apartment is tiny, but somehow it always feels so empty when he’s gone. 

“I take it back, his marksmanship is unparalleled.”

“I don’t care what you think about his shooting as long as you hold it in until the credits,” you grouse. 

You feel him shake with silent laughter again, then he presses his lips to your forehead, the scrape of his beard making you shiver. He is soft and pliant in the sleep clothes you’d delighted in buying him, because they are something comfortable and non-regulation, his in the way few things are. The steady weight of him at your back, the gentle rhythm of his breathing…it feels like coming home.

You only have three days this time, before he will be gone again. He doesn’t offer any details of his next mission, and you don’t ask. It is already hard enough to let him go when you don’t know the exact horrors that you are sending him into. He fights for his life, fights for every citizen of the Republic, while you sit pretty in an office filing data all day. It hurts you to think about, so while he’s with you, you don’t. Instead you desperately fold him into your life on Coruscant in the time you have, trying to give him everything that the Senate won’t. Some things, though, he is evidently less appreciative of than others.

He only makes it ten minutes before he just can’t help himself. The final straw is when two Jedi appear mid-scene and start swinging a pair of lightsabers that even you can tell are badly animated.

“What are they doing? They’re not even trying to go on the offensive! No – you idiot – aim for the –“  

You turn your head and narrow your eyes at him. You’d never dream of admitting it, but the genuine indignation on his face is actually very cute. Fives meets your unimpressed gaze and cuts himself off.

“Right, sorry, no talking.”

You nudge him with your elbow again and squawk when he digs his hand into your hip as retaliation.

“Maybe this was a bad idea, this is clearly reminding you too much of work,” You say. “We should have gone for another romance.”

Fives shudders dramatically. “No, please, I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut this time.”

You snicker into the arm Fives has curled around you. The last time he’d been on leave, you’d made Fives pick a holo at random. He’d landed on, in his words, perhaps the worst, most melodramatic soap-opera ever made. He doesn’t have any others to compare it to, but he’s sure nonetheless. The memory of his absolute disgust at the way the love interests had draped over each other still brings you unreasonable joy.

Abruptly you flop backwards in Fives’ arms, draping your body over the arm of the sofa. He peers down at you, his brown eyes sparkling, his expression amused and open. His hair is soft and rumpled and you want nothing more than to run your fingers through it.

“But Fives…I want you to draw me like one of your Corellian girls,” you say melodramatically, flinging one arm back. 

He groans loudly, and before you can blink one hand has come up to pin down your chest, the other darting out to jab the most ticklish part of your ribs. You jerk and shriek, your hands scrabbling against his thick forearm but it’s no use; you’re not moving an inch until he lets you.

“The long necks never taught me how to draw,” he says loudly over the sounds of your choking laughs. “So I think I should get to be the Corellian girl.”

There are genuine tears in your eyes when he lets you go. You sag down in a limp heap, clutching your stomach.

“You definitely have the tits for it,” you wheeze out, relishing the indignant noise he makes when you reach up and squeeze one for emphasis.

“I still say there was room for two people in that fucking escape pod,” Fives mutters, making you muffle another cackle.

“I know you do,” you say, because it was all Fives talked about for two days after the holo ended. Then you turn your head when there’s a particularly loud explosion on the neglected film you’re supposed to currently be watching. “Oh, shush, this bit’s the best part!”

“I should shush? Who was just talking?” Fives grumbles, but settles down obediently to watch as the film reaches its crescendo, a huge space battle unfolding on the frontier of Wild Space. As it builds, he slides a hand into your hair, stroking your head gently. He even finally sounds like he might be getting into it – you hear his breath hitch when a starfighter explodes on screen and his grip tightens briefly on your hip.

The holo draws to a close with the hero dragging the broken body of their friend from a downed fighter, leaning over them while the rest of their forces look sad at a respectful distance.

“I love you, brother,” They say tearfully. You clutch tight to Fives’ forearm, a little teary yourself as the music swells and the shot pulls out to a beautiful sunrise over the wilderness of an unknown planet.

Fives tenses behind you; it’s the only warning you get before he’s opening his big mouth again.

“If they loved him, they’d be calling for a medic, honestly,” he scoffs. “All the love in the galaxy isn’t gonna remove that shrapnel.”

You roll your eyes heavenward, the moment ruined. It’s your own fault and you know it; you picked this idiot up at 79’s and brought him home and never let him go again, like he was a sad stray tooka you found on the sidewalk. You have nobody to blame for this but yourself.

It’s a good thing he’s pretty.

In a moment you have twisted in Fives’ grip, shoved him down and straddled his waist. Before he can move, you grasp both of his wrists and pull them up to rest by his head. If you’re not going to get to enjoy your holofilm, you’re only going to settle for something better.

“Don’t you ever fucking shut up?” You ask, laughing your way through the words.

Fives smirks lazily beneath you, utterly unbothered by the change in position. He flexes his hands a little, but deigns to let you keep them trapped. The knowledge of how easily he could break free if he wanted to makes your mouth go dry. 

“Only if there’s something to occupy me.”

This is accompanied by an eyebrow waggle that makes you groan in disgust, but you’re grinning like an idiot all the same.

“The holo was supposed to occupy you!”

Fives shrugs a shoulder. His eyes sweep over you slowly, meaningfully. “Can think of much better things.”

“Oh really?” You ask, settling firmly into his lap. “What did you have in mind?”

Instead of answering Fives leans up, his nose sliding along your own. His breath sweeps over your lips and your eyes flutter shut, anticipation curling in your stomach. You give up the pretence and melt into him, meeting his eager mouth with a sigh. He is hot and wet and wonderful. Fives groans deep in his chest, the sound rumbling through you where your bodies join and shooting straight to your core. You feel him work his hands free and then they are on you, sliding firmly over the dips and curves of your body.

When you break apart, it feels like your whole body is on fire.

“So how about it, cyar’ika?” He breathes, his face flushed. He leans up again to mouth at your throat, a quick flash of teeth that makes you gasp. “You gonna shut me up?”

You grind your hips down sharp and sudden, and smirk in satisfaction as Fives chokes and throws his head back. You can feel his interest literally growing beneath you; it’s your turn to lean in and bite your way up his neck, to the spot by his ear that always makes him shudder.

“I think I’ve got a better idea,” you whisper, nipping the shell of his ear and savouring his yelp. “I’m going to make you beg.”

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

CH7- Home, Sweet Home

Summary: Frank and Fliss find their perfect family home, but there’s something bothering Mary.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Discussions about suicide. A little bit of angst.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: This is a bit of an emotionally charged filler chapter…and we move time on a little through to June in the middle. And photos of the Adler house are included at the bottom so you can visualise what I used for inspiration.

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 6

You’re giving it another try, staring at the deep blue sky, and you say to the driver just drive, coz you never felt so alive.

 April 2019

“Hey honey, you ok?” Frank juggled his phone, pinning it between his ear and his shoulder as he leaned over his computer in the office, scanning the database on the screen for a filter part they needed to order. 

“No, I mean yes! I’ve just heard some awesome news!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so you remember the guy that bought the house that backs onto the yard when Old Man River died…” “That wasn’t his name.” Frank chuckled “It was Mr Morris.”

“He called himself River, it was funny and suited him. Anyway, that’s not the point. You know the guy who bought it…guess what I found out before?”

Frank stopped what he was doing and straightened up. He didn’t like that dick, one bit. When Mr Morris had died at the start of the year, Fliss had been quite upset about the news as the old man had been very friendly to her, often popping in for a cup of tea a few afternoons a week for some company. Mr Morris’ son had sold the house without them even knowing it had gone on the market, which was a shame as it would have been perfect for them given the location. The guy who had bought it, Frank didn’t even know his name, nor did he care because he was a dick and a pervert to boot. The way he looked at Fliss made Frank want to punch his face in.

“What’s Douchey Mc Douchebag done now?”

“You’re so childish.” she scoffed “Anyway, I was only commenting to Joanne last night that we haven’t seen him for like a month and she went home and mentioned it to her dad who works with some other guy in the property development business and the long and short of it is he’s gone bankrupt Frank!”

Frank laughed loudly “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy, babe!”

“I know right!” Fliss voice was gathering pace and pitch, the way it always did when she was excited. “So literally about half hour after she’s told me this, someone turns up and there’s a For Sale sign outside, the house is on the market!”

Ok now he was interested. Frank could picture the look of excitement on her face as she spoke to him and he felt the smile cross his face “No shit?”

“Yeah, I’ll send you the website to look at the photos but…oh God, it would be perfect! Some of it is really nice, some of it needs decorating but…”

“Ok, well, why don’t you call the realtor? Arrange a viewing” he said “Hopefully you won’t puke halfway round this one.”

“Ok, first off that wasn’t my fault. Bean objected to the smell. Who the fuck cooks eggs the day they know they have someone coming to view their house?” her indignant tone made Frank chuckle “And second off…”she paused “I already did. He said he can meet us at half 12.”

“Half 12? As in lunch time? Today?” Frank frowned.

“I know I just really don’t want to miss out on this one Frank, and you said you were gonna come up here for lunch and-”

“Ok, ok.” Frank sighed “I’ll shuffle some stuff around, work a little later tonight and take an extra half hour.”

“I love you.” she replied and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Good job I love you too.” he said back gruffly “Because you’re a pain in my ass.”

He bid her goodbye and just as he was looking at the rota to make sure there were enough staff in to cope if he took a longer lunch, his phone beeped. He clicked through to the link Fliss had sent him and had a scan through the photos. To be fair the house didn’t look in too bad condition. It was deceptive from the outside, looked like a small farmhouse but they knew thanks to the extension Douchebag had put on the back it now formed an L shape and from the look of it, was pretty spacious. The kitchen was new, the main bathroom was new so the big work looked like it had been mostly done. The décor in some of the rooms was really old fashioned, especially the hallway you and the front reception room, but that was all cosmetic. What really grabbed him was the price. It was up for just over 320 thousand, which was a fucking steal considering the size, location, the garden and the garage/outhouse it came with.

“You ok Frank?”

He looked up and smiled as Alan, his boss walked in to the office. “Yeah, sorry, Fliss has found a house and managed to book a viewing for lunch time. Fucking 7th one in 2 weeks.”

Alan snorted “Keeping you on your toes I see?”

“Well I gotta say, this one’s looking pretty good. It’s the house that backs onto our Yard out in Pinellas Park.” Frank explained “It was sold not even 6 months ago to a developer and he’s apparently gone bankrupt so put it back on the market.”

“Huh.” Alan smiled “Sounds like it was meant to be. Take it you’re going then?”

“Yeah, Charlie and Gary are in all afternoon. I thought I could take an extra half hour, work it back tonight or…”

“Frank, when was the last time you actually took a full hour for your lunch and didn’t cut it short by 10 or 15?” Alan looked at him.

Frank hesitated “Yeah, but that’s-”

“No buts.” Alan shook his head. “Do what you gotta do.”

“Thanks Alan.” Frank smiled, “I appreciate it.”

Alan waved away his gratitude before he dropped into the chair on the opposite side of Frank’s small desk and gestured for Frank to sit down.

“I wanted to talk to you in person, before the news gets out. I’m looking at retiring Frank, fully this time.”

“That’s good news, for you I mean.” Frank smiled, taking his seat. “You must be happy?”

“Kinda bitter sweet.” He shrugged “But I hit 70 this year and bout time I let it all go. Bill’s already chomping at the bit to book damned fishing trips so...it’ll be nice to step back. But I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Shoot.”

“My son, James is going to be taking over, that won’t come as any surprise to you as you’ve seen him knocking around a bit and he likes you.”

“Good to know I’m not going to be out on my ass.” Frank smiled, breathing out a little.

“No, not a chance. I wouldn’t allow it.” Alan said “I’ll still be the owner, just stepping back from major decision making and day to day running. Anyway, the point is Frank, James needs a deputy. He is young and a little inexperienced. I’ve seen how quickly over the last year you’ve picked up rotas, staffing issues, dealt with the stock takes, haggled with the supply chain…I wondered if you’d consider it.”

Frank blinked “You wanna make me deputy manager?”

“In a word, yes. And I know you got your hands full at the moment and they’ll be even more full when that boy of yours arrives but the changes won’t come into effect until the end of the year so we got plenty of time to work out the details.”

“Wow, I err…” Frank shook his head “I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t need an answer now.” Alan said, “Take some time to consider it. Talk it over with Fliss.”

“I will, I’ll give it some thought.”

“Ok, well, that’s all I dropped in for.” Alan said, standing up, groaning a little “Did you just hear my damned knees click?”

Frank laughed and shook his head “No, but to be honest mine click too so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Getting old sucks.” Alan said, shaking his head “I tell ya, the minute I can’t enjoy the simple things in life, put a bullet in my head.”

Frank snorted as Alan shot him a wink and left him to his thoughts.

******* Frank glanced down at the wooden boards beneath his feet in the entrance hall. They were solid old wood, oak he thought, and with a clean and polish would look stunning. He looked up and saw Fliss talking animatedly to the realtor, a young man called David as he nodded and gestured to his left. Fliss opened the door and looked at Frank who followed her into the first reception room. It smelt musty, and there was an old sofa and threadbare carpet in the room but it was light and had a nice, airey feeling to it thanks to the large windows at the front of the house.

“New carpet and a bit of paint…” Frank mused nodding, “Be good as new.”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes shining a she looked around and nodded at the fire place “Really, in Florida?”

“It gets cold, as you know.” he teased “Besides, we just fill it with some of your million candles or whatever…”

She nudged him and they turned around, David watching them.

“So, you’re obviously in the older part of the house that hasn’t really been touched apart from upstairs.” he explained, “But if you follow me I’ll show you the extension which is all new and, well, to be honest, I think it’s stunning.”

The three of them moved back into the hall and through a door at the end which led into a huge open plan kitchen and living area. The kitchen was gorgeous. Sleek white units, modern appliances, marble tops, a huge breakfast bar. Douchebag had clearly spent a fortune doing this up. The floor was a light grey and white laminate which David pointed out was heavy wearing.  To the left of the kitchen area was a huge space where Frank could clearly picture their sofas and TV, and then just off that was a door which led into another smaller reception room, freshly painted and carpeted.  He was just pondering how they could turn that into a play room when Fliss gave a gasp and nudged Frank pointing to the large bay window at the back which had been converted into a seating nook of sorts. They made their way over and saw that the view extended right over their garden highlighting a small pool area which was surrounded by a low set of railings with a gate that were all painted a glossy black. The pool itself was sparklingly clean and clearly brand new.

“Oh wow… “ Fliss mumbled, looking at the sand stone tiles that surrounded the area and the rest of the garden.

“Yeah the rear garden loops in an L round the house” David said. “There’s a larger fence around this area to keep it private and separate from the land at the front that runs flush to the yard area.”

Frank’s hands dropping to her hips as he nodded to the right “Could extend that little patio area for a table and chairs, maybe build a brick BBQ. Couple of sun-loungers for that bit at the back of the pool.”

She nodded eagerly before they headed back into the hallway they’d entered into where the realtor showed them the little room that was to the right as you came in the door which held a number of shelves and coat hooks and a toilet and sink basin. They then headed up stairs to find 4 bedrooms. The master extended down the entire side of the house overlooking the main yard area of Sandybrook. It needed some work, the plaster and paint was peeling away in some areas, but Frank wasn’t worried at that. It was an easy job. What he was pleased to see was that the rest of it was in good condition. There was a brand new en-suite attached to it, housing a toilet, a huge shower and his and hers sinks. The room also had built in wardrobes and huge ceiling to floor bi-folding doors which opened up onto a small balcony. Douchebag had clearly been focussing on the big jobs first before he got into the cosmetics, which Frank had to give him credit for.

The main bathroom was in between the wall of their en-suite and the next bedroom, both situated at the back of the house over the extension and overlooking the fields belonging to the yard. The plaster was fresh in that bedroom but hadn’t been painted, again, not an issue, because Frank knew a certain little miss would be no doubt picking a colour as soon a she spotted this room.

“Bet Mary chooses this one.” Frank said, voicing his thoughts and Fliss nodded, smiling

“I would if the Master didn’t have that en-suite.” she grinned “Look at that view!”

“Yeah, who’d have thought you could work from home in the equestrian business” he chuckled as they then headed to the next bedroom on the opposite side of the landing. This was also rather large, but like the main part of the master bedroom, was clearly one of the original two bedrooms the house had and it needed some updating.

The 4th bedroom was a smaller one up a narrow set of stairs hidden by door in the hallway. It opened up into an attic room which tucked into the roof of the house.

The realtor then led them back down and the out to the outbuildings. There was a huge garage with a half- finished apartment of sorts above it that had been used as storage but could be easily a guest suite if they so wanted,  and then the thing Frank had really loved was the workshop off the side of the garage, accessed by a small door. It was musty and full of crap but was somewhere for him to store all his tools and work on any side projects he decided to pick up.

All in all Frank was finding it pretty damned hard to pick faults in the place.

As they headed back to the main house and Frank asked David politely to give them a moment to look around alone and he nodded eagerly before Frank and Fliss headed back into the house.

“I’m getting good vibes Sailor.” Fliss said as she turned round, looking at the kitchen, once more heading over to the bay window seat, “really good vibes.” she spun back to him and he smiled at the look on her face. “I mean, ok, a few rooms need decorating and there’s some finishing off bits to do all over but it’s nothing that dad can’t help with and I’m sure-“

At that she stopped dead, and gave a little gasp as her hand flew to her bump.

“You ok?” Frank stepped forward.

“Yeah he’s…” she swallowed “Bean’s kicking, Frankie! Quick!”

He reached out with his hand and she took it, pressing it to the side of her bump. After a second or two he felt something wriggle a little under his palm and he looked at Fliss, his face cracking into an open mouthed smile as he felt his son move for the first time.

“Lissy…” he swallowed his eyes misting over. “That’s…oh my God!”

“You should feel it from my POV!” Fliss smiled her own eyes glassy too.

Frank didn’t want to take his hand away. Instead, he kept moving his palm, tracking their baby’s movements when eventually they stopped.

“I think that means BB likes the house.” Fliss looked at him.

Frank scoffed, shaking his head. “BB’s Momma likes the house.”

“Doesn’t his Daddy?” she asked, her hands sliding round his neck.

“Yeah, his Daddy does.” he replied honestly in a low voice as he looked around the large room. “In fact, I like it a lot.”

“You think Mary will?”

“Are you kidding?” Frank snorted “Soon as she sees that view and that pool, she’ll be packing to move in straight away.”

“Suppose there’s only one way to find out.” Fliss smiled.

So they did. They brought Mary back the next day after school. She had squealed at the window seat, yelled about the pool and as she had shot upstairs and headed into the bedroom Frank had predicted she would like, given a jump for joy as she realised from the upstairs she had a view over the tall picket fencing that shielded the private area of the garden.

“I can see Monty!” she gleefully pointed out before turning to Frank and looking at him then to Fliss, her hands on her hips “If you don’t buy this house you’re a pair of dumbasses.”

The same sentiment was echoed by Bill when he turned up fifteen minutes or so later and walked around with Frank whilst Fliss and Mary headed to feed the horses. He did exactly the same thing he had done when they had looked at the apartment, pointed out what they needed to do, how long it should take them to do, rough estimates of cost. Plus, he also reminded Frank they were in a great position. They could buy the place and then give his months’ notice on the apartment meaning they could stay where they were until it was finished.

So that was it. Decision made. The next morning they went in with a cheeky offer, some twenty thou below the asking price which was rejected instantly. Then they upped their offer by five…then an additional three to total eight, with the fact that they were cash buyers and not in a chain a huge bargaining chip.

It was later that evening, just after they had finished dinner when the realtor called back.

“Evening Mr Adler, ok so…I have spoken to the vendor. He says if you can up your offer by another two thousand then you’ve got a deal.” David spoke. At that, Frank let out a huge grin, as he looked out of the kitchen window at Mary and Fliss who were outside the apartment, both sat on a chair round the table. He and Fliss had both agreed they were prepared to go to the full asking price, in their mind it was worth it, but they were about to seal the deal here for ten thousand less.

 “Ok, two thousand more.” Frank said, keeping his voice level “But the property comes off the market as we don’t want anyone else spotting it and offering him more before we exchange contracts.” he repeated word for word what Greg had instructed him to do when he had asked him to handle the conveyancing earlier that morning.

“Ok, so the offer on the table is Three-ten on the proviso he grants exclusivity…” David repeated. “Ok, leave it with me.”

Frank finished loading the dishwasher, and had just grabbed himself a beer when David called back not even five minutes later.

“Congratulations Mr Adler, you have a deal.”

He thanked him, and grinning ear to ear headed outside, jumping down the steps onto the lawn.

“What you looking so pleased about?” Fliss looked up at him suspiciously.

“David called… we’ve settled on three-ten plus exclusivity” he smiled

“What, you mean…” Fliss’ mouth fell open and Frank nodded.

“Yup, subject to contracts, the place is ours!”

Mary gave a loud cheer as Fliss jumped up and leapt at him as he smiled, wrapping her in his arms, swinging her up slightly.

“I can’t believe it…” she whispered. “Our own home!”

“I know” he beamed, setting her down as he gave her a quick peck. “I’ll call Greg in the morning. When I talked to him about it he said that with no loans involved it shouldn’t take too long. We could be looking a having the keys in a month.” His hands dropped to her hips, palms resting either side of where his son was growing “So plenty of time to do his nursery.”

Fliss grinned and using the arms that were round his neck pulled his face down to hers and pressed a fierce kiss to his mouth. “God I love you.” she mumbled.

“Love you too.” he grinned, kissing her again, ignoring Mary’s fake puking noises in the background.

*****

June 2019

“Mr Adler?"

Frank stopped as he had been striding over the yard to collect Mary and turned to see Mrs McCarthy, her teacher walking towards him.

"Hi." He smiled, removing his sunglasses so he could look her in the eyes.

"I'm so sorry to bother you"

"No bother at all." He assured her "is everything OK?"

Mrs McCarthy glanced over to where Mary was stood talking to her friend, Rosie, and turned back to him

"Yes...nothing too drastic but I wanted to make you aware about a little incident in class this afternoon"

Frank looked at her, blinking "incident?"

"Maybe that's the wrong word." The older, blonde woman said "Look, as you know next week it's the end of year Gala, the fundraiser and we invite the parents to join us for activities.”

Frank nodded, wishing the woman would get to the damned point. He was hot, dirty and bothered after an afternoon of helping the team on a particularly awkward repair and wanted nothing more than to stand under a cold shower for an hour and flop down outside with a beer.

"Well, one of the girls asked Mary if she was bringing her mom and if they were making anything for the bake sale and Mary rather bluntly told the girl her mother was dead and then clammed up. She didn't speak a word for the rest of the afternoon."

Frank felt his chest tighten as he looked over at Mary who was now giggling with Rosie and sighed

"She didn't do anything wrong" Mrs McCarthy pressed "I was just a little worried."

"Thanks for letting me know, I'll talk to her later, make sure she's okay." Frank assured her.

The woman nodded and headed back across the yard as Frank gave a sharp whistle and slid his aviators back onto his face. Mary looked up and said goodbye to Rosie and came wandering over as Frank waved to Rosie's mom who tossed a hand in greeting in response.

"I'm not Thor" She fixed Frank with a stare.

"I know but I couldn't be bothered walking over." He replied honestly as they climbed into the truck

"You have a good day?"

"It was OK." She shrugged. Frank eyed her for a second before she pulled the car away from the kerb and set off down the road.

"What's for dinner?" Mary asked.

"Steak, baked potatoes and salad." He replies "Fliss' choice."

"Are you grilling?" Mary asked.

"Yup." He nodded

"Cool." Mary nodded "Can I go in the pool before?"

"Got any homework?" Frank countered with another question as he looked at her. Mary shook her head

“End of year next week and Uni didn't give me any summer work."

"Then yeah, of course you can.”

Frank didn't raise the so called incident, deciding to let her chill out a little bit at home first and digest how she felt. After 20 minutes or so of general chat Frank pulled up their driveway and stopped the truck next to Fliss' truck. As they hopped out Mary glanced across the garden over the smaller part of the fence where she could just see Fliss walking across the yard.

"Please can I go see Monty?" She looked at Frank and he nodded.

"I'll watch you." He agreed. With a grin she sprinted over the lawn, climbed over the fence and dropped over onto the other side. Thor gave a bark and Fliss turned round and smiled at her, before she waved at Frank. He waved back before he headed down the side of the house, through the gate in the larger fence before he unlocked the back door and stepped inside the cool air conditioned kitchen, kicking off his shoes and heading straight to the fridge for a beer. Draining half in one he stood, looking around and smiling. They’d finally unpacked the last box yesterday evening and Fliss was still in the process of moving things around their new home, positioning them where she wanted them.

True to Greg’s word, they’d had the keys to the house 4 and a half weeks after making the offer, and 2 weeks post that once the bedrooms and hall had been decorated with a lot of help from Bill, Verity and Roberta (who had been happy for them yet still cried her eyes out when they’d left the park, despite the fact they had assured her they would still come visit and she could also come stay with them too) they’d moved in. The only thing left to do was the reception room (which could wait, it was easy to just shut the door and pretend it didn’t exist) and Bean’s nursery, which he, Fliss and Mary had decided to do together as a project. Mary and Fliss had spent nights pouring over Pinterest for ideas and they’d finally settled on a scheme. Frank had picked up all the plastering supplies and the paint, the furniture was on order and should be arriving at any time that week now he thought about it…so hopefully that weekend they could get cracking. That might cheer Mary up now he thought about it.

Taking his beer with him, he picked up his boots and took them to the cloakroom/bathroom by the stairs. He trudged up the steps, shaking his head at Fred who was led at the top, his paws hanging over the edge of the step as he eyed Frank.

"You're gonna cause a fucking accident." He looked at the ginger cat who merely swished his tail in response. Frank headed into their bedroom, stripping off as he went, walking straight into the en-suite, turning on the shower, setting his beer down on the edge of the sink unit. He stepped in and under the stream of cool water, closing the screen behind him, his mind still on Mary and how he was going to bring up what her teacher has said. With a groan he opened the door, reached out of the cubicle for his beer, took another gulp before he set about washing the grime of the day away.

***** "Have you finished grooming him?" Fliss asked, standing in the doorway to Monty's stable. Mary glanced over from where she had been brushing through his white tail and nodded.

"Wanna take him to the paddock?" Fliss smiled. "Cap and Bronson are waiting for their little pal."

"Sure." Mary shrugged and Fliss frowned a little at her demeanour. She was quiet, which was unlike her when she was round the horses. She was normally full of excitement.

"You OK?" She asked and Mary nodded.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem quiet, that's all."

"No, I'm good." She shrugged, before she tossed her brush into the little grooming box she had, closing the lid and passing it to Fliss. Fliss placed the box into the larger wooden one outside the stable before Mary put Monty's halter on and led him out of his stall. Fliss allowed them to walk ahead, her hand on her bump as she followed them out of the yard and down the little path to the gate that led to the paddocks. They reached the one were Monty was going and undoing the gate, Mary led him in. The white pony stood patiently for her to take his halter off before he stuck his nose into the crook of her neck and shoulder. Fliss smiled as Mary gently stroked his neck and then to her utter horror she saw Mary’s shoulders begin to shake as the girl started to cry.

"Hey, Mary..." she soothed, stepping forward as the small girl turned to her, wrapping her arms around her as best she could, pressing her face into her bump "Oh baby what's wrong?"

Mary didn’t reply, instead she continued to sob and Fliss felt powerless to do anything other than wrap her arms around her, one hand resting on her head, the other between her shoulders.

“Something happened at School…” Mary whispered and Fliss gently tipped her head up to look at her. “Someone said something and…”

“Ok, how about we go back to the office and you can tell me all about it ok?”

Mary nodded, sniffing as her sobs died down. Fliss held out her hand and Mary took it and together they headed back down to the yard. Joanne looked at Mary who was hiccupping slightly with her sobs and frowned but Fliss shook her head.

“Can you feed the top barn for me and then you can go.” she said to Jo who nodded. “I’ll lock up.” “Sure, see you tomorrow. Bye Mary.” she smiled. Mary looked at her and gave a small wave before Fliss led her into the office. She grabbed them both an apple juice from the fridge and then Mary sat on the chair at the end of the desk, wiping her eyes with a tissue that Fliss handed her from the box.

“You ready to talk?”

Mary nodded, and then she stood up and walked over to Fliss who made room for her to clamber up onto her lap. It was a bit awkward but after a little shifting around they found a way she could sit unobstructed by Boston Bean and Mary lay her head against Fliss’ shoulder.

“It was about the gala.” she sniffed “One of them asked me if my mom was coming and…”

“Oh sweetie.” Fliss sighed, rubbing her back. “I get that must have been hard.”

Mary shrugged “I told them she was dead.” she said matter of factly “I get that and I never knew my mom so I don’t miss her as a person…but then I started to think about why she died and I don’t understand.” “Understand what?”

“Why?” Mary looked at her. “Why would she do what she did when she had me? Why did she want to leave me behind?”

Fliss took a deep breath and cradled the girl as best she could, trying to think of a way to explain to which Mary could relate, and then it came to her, she could use her own experience here. There was no getting around the fact this was going to be a heave conversation, but Mary was a smart kid and deserved to be treated as such.

With another deep inhale, Fliss looked down at her, kissing her head before she opened rather bluntly "You know I tried to kill myself."

"You did?" Mary pulled back to look up at her "Why?"

"Because I saw it as my only way out." Fliss gently smoothing Mary’s hair back. "I was stuck in an awful situation. My ex-husband hurt me physically and mentally and I gave up. I wanted out."

Mary remained silent and looked at her.

"For someone to get to that point...they have to have hit rock bottom. Like there is nowhere to go. It's not their fault. And it doesn't mean they don't love the people they leave behind just that they're desperate to escape whatever pain they feel, be it in their head or their body or both."

"But I still don't understand." Mary shook her head.

"And you may never, not fully." Fliss sighed gently "And as horrible as it is that's something you are gonna have to live with but you have to remember that your mom was sick. And for whatever reason she saw this as her only escape. It wasn't Evelyn's fault, it wasn't Frank's fault and it certainly wasn't yours."

"But if she loved me like Frank says she did..."

"You think I don't love my mum and dad? Or Steve? Charlie, Joel?"

Mary blinked before she lay her head back against Fliss' shoulder. "Of course you do.”

"But I was still gonna leave them behind. I was desperate. And you wanna know the real stupid thing?"

"What?"

"When I got better I still went back to John. I went back to a real toxic environment and a man that abused me. Because I felt like it was what I deserved. And even though I left him way before I met you and Frank, it wasn't until me and Frank started dating that I really understood I wasn't to blame. I always thought I did something to make him hurt me but I didn't. Being with Frank, the way he treats me and loves me made me see that it was him with the problem, not me.”

"But that's different" Mary glanced up

"The trigger was, yes." Fliss nodded "But your mom, like me, was in a position so helpless, so unbelievably sad that she thought she was to blame and that the world, including you, would be better off without her even though she was so wrong."

**** Once showered and dried, Frank dressed in a pair of shorts and clean T-shirt before he headed back downstairs. There was no sign of Fliss or Mary but as he strode out into the garden he heard a car heading down the drive by the side of the house from the yard and correctly assumed it was Joanne leaving for the day. He opened the gate and just saw the tail of her car turn onto the main road as he headed into the garage for the charcoal to light the BBQ.

Once that was done, leaving the flames to die down he headed out across the lawn, vaulting over the small fence onto the yard. He headed round the barn and frowned as he couldn't see anyone. After a quick look round he spotted the door to Fliss' office was closed. He went to open it but stopped as he could hear the sound of voices. It was Mary and Fliss but he could tell from the pitch and stutters in Mary's that she was upset. He paused, hand hovering over the handle as he heard Fliss speaking to her softly. "Stack, you are so loved. Frank loves you, I love you, Nanny V, Poppa Bill, Uncle Steeby, Roberta, Evelyn...Thor, Fred and Monty..." she paused "You're such a special little girl and I know I'm not your mom but, well, I feel like I am."

"You do?"

"I'd do anything to keep you safe and happy. And so would Frank"

They both fell silent and Frank swallowed, the lump in his throat almost choking him.

"Don't ever feel like we don't" Fliss continued "and if I have to bake 200 fucking cookies for your Gala next week to prove it then I will."

Mary giggles "You know Bean can hear you swearing."

"Well I won't tell Frank if you don't"

"Do you think Frank feels like my dad?" Mary asked a moment later and at that point Frank really wanted to walk away. He couldn't listen to this, he didn't want to listen to this...but something kept him rooted to the spot.

"I know he does." Fliss replied.

"But he doesn't like it when people say it. I know that, I heard him talking to you. Bill’s not your real dad but you still say he is…."

“That’s slightly different sweetheart.” Fliss sighed "My real dad left my mom before I was born, so when he died. I didn’t even know him and I don’t care that I didn’t either. But your mom was Frank's sister. He wants to make sure you remember her, understand who she was. He could have easily just pretended to be your dad all this time, you would never have known any different but he didn't. Because he loves you and your mom too much. He's too honest and it’s important to him that you understand. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love you like he is your dad, or that you can't love him like he is."

Frank turned away from the door, looking up at the sky and taking a deep shuddering breath. Fuck, this was hard to hear. He knew Mary had been upset before but the thought that it ran this deep was killing me. Wiping at his face, his hands then dropped to his hips and he looked down at his sneakers before he turned to the door, reaching for the handle but once more pausing as he couldn’t face interrupting them, not whilst they were in the middle of a moment.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Mary continued  “And I do love him like he is. And I love you like you’re my mom too.”

“Well that’s all that matters.” Fliss replied “It may be unconventional but we’re a family, and that’s the main thing huh?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks Lissy.” Mary spoke.

“You’re welcome Stack” Fliss’s voice was soft and there was a pause as Frank could picture the pair of them hugging.

“Hey, did you now I’m going to be doing all the money stuff for the bake stall?” Mary’s voice was suddenly up beat as she switched topic “Because I’m good at maths they said I could be in charge of payments and handing people their change and stuff.”

“Nice work kiddo.” Fliss smiled, “Tell you what, we’ll put Nanny V on the case, her baking is way better than mine. We can get her over one night next week whilst Pops is helping Frank with the plastering in the nursery.”

Ok, that was it, safe to enter without interrupting anything. Frank gave a little knock and then opened the door, fixing a smile on his face.

“Hope I haven’t interrupted any girl talk” he smiled and Mary jumped up and ran to him, giving him a hug. He looked at Fliss who wiped her eyes.

“Ok?” he mouthed at her and she nodded back, her lips moving silently as she replied.

“Tell you later.”

“BBQ is lit.” Frank said, looking down at Mary “You still wanna play in the pool?”

She nodded and grinned. “Yeah.”

“Sounds like a great idea.” Fliss grinned “Let’s lock up and head home…oh wait, we don’t need to head home because…” “We’re already there!” Mary grinned, and then she spun round to see Fred peering round the door. “Hey, look who came to visit!” “Bout time he earned his keep.” Frank grumbled “Go catch some mice.”

Fred stalked past him into the office, looked around, before he sauntered back out, clearly not interested.

“He’s a lover not a killer Frank.” Mary grinned, as Frank watched the cat walk off into the evening sun.

The three of them locked up before they headed back to the house and Mary shot upstairs to get changed.

“So, how much did you hear?” Fliss turned to Frank as he pulled a beer from the fridge along with a bottle of water, sliding it over to her.

“Enough.” he sighed “Her teacher collared me before. Said that one of the kids had asked about her mom in class and she’d gotten upset.”

“She asked me why Diane did what she did.” Fliss sighed, “Why she left her behind if she loved her so much.”

Frank swallowed. “What did you say?”

“I explained about why I tried to kill myself.” Fliss shrugged “Told her about the desperation I felt…but that didn’t mean that I didn’t love my family just that I saw it as my only way out. I know it was heavy and maybe not really the right thing to do but...”

She was cut off as Frank stepped forward, taking her face in his hands as he kissed her, hard. It took her a moment to catch up but once she did she melted into him, her mouth opening to grant him access as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip.

“Thank you.” He said gently as he pulled away, his hands still cupping her face.

“What for?” Fliss asked, reaching up to gently wrap her fingers around his wrists.

“For loving her as much as you do.” he shrugged. “For loving us both as much as you do.”

“Oh, Sailor.” Fliss’ eyes brimmed with tears “How could I not?”

***** Frank didn’t sleep particularly well that night. Mary’s conversation with Fliss was running through his brain and every time he drifted off he would wake about an hour or so later, fresh worries and concerns running through his mind. In the end, at just before 5 am he gave up and climbed out of bed. He grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of sweats and putting them on he headed downstairs. He flipped on the TV in the hope the early morning new would distract him, but it didn’t.

It was clear to him that Mary was struggling with where she was going to fit in the family dynamic. He hadn’t really worried much up to that point, being convinced by Fliss that if they kept her involved with stuff to do with Bean she would be ok but this went much deeper than the fact they were expecting a baby.

He’d be lying if he said the thought of him claiming to be Mary’s Father had never entered his mind. It would have been a lot easier but out of loyalty and love to Diane he had wanted to make sure she knew about her mother, and understood the truth because in the end, a lie would always come round to bite you on the ass. It wasn’t that he had a problem with people assuming he was Mary’s father but…

God what a fucking mess.

“Hey…” a soft voice drew him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Fliss stood in the doorway, his T-shirt she was wearing now hardly covered the top of her thighs thanks to her Bean bump.

“Sorry beautiful, did I wake you?” he asked.

“No.” she shook her head, dropping down next to him. “I got up to pee and you were gone.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” he shrugged.

“What’s wrong handsome?”  she lay her head on his shoulder and he took a deep breath.

“Just thinking about Mary that’s all.” he shrugged. “She’s always asked questions about Diane but not like that.”

“She’s getting older Frank.” Fliss said, her hand reaching out for his as she began to play with his fingers “She’s bound to start thinking about things differently. She was ok last night after she talked to me, and then later you when you tucked her in. She doesn’t keep her feelings bottled up, and that’s good. It’s a testament to you that she feels like she can talk to us about things.”

“I know.” Frank looked down at her, kissing her head “I guess I just worry Lissy, worry about how she’s gonna feel when Bean is here and he’s calling us mom and dad and she doesn’t.”

“Frank.” Fliss sighed as she sat up straight. “Mary knows we love her. And what she calls us doesn’t change a damned thing. You’re worrying unduly now. We can’t do anything about that other than-“

“Yes, yes we could.” Frank looked at her. Fliss took a deep breath as his eyes locked onto hers, instantly understanding.

“I thought you said you’d never even consider adopting her?”

“I never thought I would.” he shrugged. “But it’s been playing on my mind after what mother said and then after last night…” “Why? What did Evelyn say?” Fliss asked.

“When she was here last, she told me that Diane’s memory wouldn’t suddenly fade if Mary called me dad…” he licked his lips “It was almost like she was giving me permission to do it…you know? Not that I need it or really give a shit what she thinks.” he paused, taking a deep breath “If I’m totally honest Diane isn’t the only reason I said I didn’t want to. I just never thought of myself as being dad material. I was such a screw up until I met you and I thought that by staying as her Uncle, it would give her that distance, you know?”

“Not dad material?” Fliss looked at him, shaking her head “Oh Frank, you idiot. You’ve done an amazing job with her…and you will do with Bean too.”

He smiled at her, sniffing slightly as she continued.

“But there is one person who’s opinion counts most here.” Fliss said gently “And that’s Mary. If you’re serious then you should ask her if it’s what she wants. Because after 9 years of calling you Frank…”

“I know.” Frank agreed, “And I agree, completely. It would have to be her decision. But at least if I ask her if she would like us to then-“

“Us?” Fliss looked at him, blinking. “You mean you want me to?”

“Of course I do.” Frank nodded, before he frowned slightly “But if that isn’t what you want, I understand. It’s a big-“ Fliss cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips “Of course I do Frank. I love Mary like she is my own anyway so…” Frank beamed at her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her head. “So, we’re agreed. We ask her?”

Fliss nodded and pulled back, her hand resting on his cheek. “We ask her.”

Chapter 8

[martellthemandalor]

Happy Deathday

Pairing: Max Phillips x f!reader

Warnings: Language, suggestion of biting 

Rating: T (teen)

Word count: 1.9K+

A/N: This is a small fic for anyone celebrating their birthday! I hope you enjoy this little treat with our favourite vampire sales manager. also no editing because i finished this at 3am lmaoo. 

Masterlist!

GIF IS NOT MY OWN. CREDIT TO THE OWNER.

“Happy birthday to you!”

The off-key drone of your co-workers voices finished with an enthusiastic round of applause. You smile up at the gaggle of them, leaning forward to blow out the singular candle protruding from the cake being presented to you.  

“Thank you everyone, please help yourself to a slice before you leave. Lord knows I won’t be able to finish it by myself,” You joked, gesturing to the sizeable cake that rested in the hands of your boss. He chuckled at you, setting the cake down and producing a knife to section it with.

You got to packing away your days’ work right away, your colleagues flocking to the sweet treat being offered freely on the adjacent desk.

A cold hand on your shoulder caused you to jump. Your mouth twisted into a small smile as you swivelled to find yourself met with the dark eyes of your manager.

“(Y/N) I need to see you in my office,” He instructed, that damn infuriating smirk playing across his face.

“Come on Boss, it’s her birthday let her go have fun,” Tim protested through a mouthful of cake. You grinned at him, rolling your eyes as you saw him reach for another slice.

“Thank you for your concern Tim, I would almost be grateful if it wasn’t a clear ploy to get more of my cake,” You accused playfully. “Of course boss, I’ll be right with you.”

Max gave your shoulder a squeeze, shooting you a wink as he sauntered back to his office.

“You really shouldn’t let him keep you late, this is literally the one day a year you can break the rules,” Tim mumbled at you, biting off another chunk of cake.

“Tim, I really don’t think that’s true,” You laughed, “But if it makes you feel any better, my plans don’t start until later, I kind of guessed Max would be enough of an asshole to keep me back after work,” You slung your bag over your shoulder and made your way over to Max’s office. Glancing over your shoulder you saw Tim trying to sneak another slice cake.

“Hey Tim, just take the whole thing okay? I’ve got another one coming later,” You called to him.

Tim’s eyes lit up, nabbing the cake off the desk and all but sprinting out of the door. You really did work with some… interesting characters to say the least. It certainly made every day a different experience, especially with the changes that had been happening around the office recently.

You softly rapped on the solid wood of the door, and upon hearing the muffled “Yep!” from the other side swiftly entered.

Max was leant back on his chair, legs propped up on his desk. His eyes raked over your figure as you shut the door behind you. You turned to face him, bracing your back against the smooth wood.

“You never learnt the art of subtlety did you?” You asked him, arching your eyebrow at your undead boyfriend.

“Absolutely not sweetheart, sales don’t come from subtlety,” He claimed, swinging his feet off the desk and beckoning you to come sit on his lap. You rolled your eyes at him, an involuntary action you found yourself doing twice as much since beginning your relationship with him.

“People are going to find out about this if you don’t tone it down,” You said nonchalantly, wandering slowly towards the desk, your eyes locked on his.

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Max retorted, dramatically rolling his eyes in direct parody of you. “Besides babe, I just know you love it.” He punctuated his point with a wink.

God you wanted to slap him sometimes.

“And… how do you know that?” You asked. Your fingertips trailed across the polished oak of the desk, dancing around the various pencil pots and other knick-knacks he had spread across the surface. Another part of his game with the team, every time he turned someone new, suddenly a new item turned up on his desk.

Max had told you it was a motivation tactic, because of course it was. He said that people don’t like being reduced to objects, explaining that by adding an item, a trophy, each time someone was turned reduced them to just that. By doing this, and drawing attention to it through meetings and whatnot, the non-turned would work twice as hard in order to stay that way, to not be reduced to an object. He may be a smug bastard, but you couldn’t say he wasn’t a clever one.

You slid across the front of the desk, gave Max the smuggest smile you could muster, then hopped up onto the edge opposite him. A blatant shun to his previous invitation. This was another game he liked to play with you, the cat and mouse of it all, and you were more than happy to fill your role.

“Because,” he said, leaning forward in that ridiculous chair and dropping his voice lower. “I could hear your heart beat faster.”

Yeah, he got you there. Damn his upper hand.  You tried to keep a straight face as the cogs in mind whirred furiously to come up with a smartass retort. It quickly became impossible to do so though, you knew Max could see right through your struggle as he slowly inched his chair closer to you. You fought back your smile, but lost the struggle with an infectious laugh as his face contorted into a smug duck face.

“Gotcha,” he proclaimed triumphantly. In one swift move he lifted you from the desk and into his lap, his strength meaning you weighed nothing as he pulled you close to him, causing a slight squeal to escape you. It sent a thrill through you whenever he displayed his strength like that, the way he strong armed you around a complete juxtaposition to the feather light way he handled you while doing it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you settled into his lap, his own hands resting comfortably around your waist. He cocked his eyebrow at you, his copyright smirk playing across his lips as he waited for you to make the move.

You smoothed your hands across the back of his neck, over his shoulders and traced your fingers across the rigid lapels of his suit. Then you grabbed onto the lapels and tugged him towards your mouth, leading him into a surprisingly gentle kiss.

His cool lips instinctively moved against your own, hand coming up to cup your jaw as he dragged his tongue across your bottom lip. Opening your mouth you let him slip his tongue in, his gentle taste of mint flooding your senses. You smiled against him when you broke for breath.

He dragged his lips across your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck.

“Happy birthday baby,” He murmured against the warmth of your skin.

“Thank you babe,” You responded, tugging lightly on his hair to pull him from you. You both looked at each other for a minute, his eyes darting over your features, as if trying to memorise you.

The silence was thick and comfortable, but as was normal with Max the quiet didn’t last long.

“Are you sure you want to do this sweetheart?” Max asked. He brushed his thumb softly across your cheekbone, his other hand coming up to caress down your neck. The tenderness of his touch made your heart jump at your ribs. You slid your hands up his arms, resting them at his wrists.

“I’m more than sure Max, we’ve talked about this, I want this,” You reassured him.

“But-” You quickly placed a finger over his lips. For a man so hell bent on turning every other warm body in the office for the sake of efficiency, he was being surprisingly apprehensive with you.

“Max. Look at me. I love you. I want this with you. There’s no one else I can possibly imagine being with, and I- fuck- I want to be turned by you so I can live with you as we are, forever. Okay?” You stressed. Max took your hands in his and brought them to his lips, peppering kisses along each of your knuckles.

“I love you to baby, so much,” He said gently. He leant in and pressed a series of chaste kisses to your lips. Then it was like a switch flipped in his head and suddenly your suave, almost douchebag of a boyfriend was back again. “Come on then sweetheart,” He announced, a tap on your thigh giving you the hint to stand up. You smiled as you dismounted him, heading for the door.

He got up and shot to the door before you could get close, opening it for you. He landed a playful swat on your ass as you crossed the open threshold, his voice following not long after.

“Let’s get you home and turned to the sexiest vamp in the office, rivalled only by me of course”

-

Entering your apartment was like entering a different world. Max had disappeared on his lunch break and where initially you were confused as to what he could have got up to for the full hour, it was now crystal clear.

He had come back to yours and cleaned the place from head to toe. He had also layed out candles and ruby red rose petals across the floor of the hall, which he was currently, and rather frantically, lighting as you hung up your coat.

Your living room had undergone the same treatment, with the addition of a bottle of red wine, a new wine glass set, a box of fancy chocolates and a small, very neatly wrapped, present sitting pretty in the middle of your coffee table.

“Max you- you didn’t have to do all this,” You exclaimed to your boyfriend, who had now settled himself on the sofa. He patted the space next to him, which you eagerly occupied.

“Of course I did, it’s your birthday and you deserve something extra special,” He responded, hand waving off your concerns.

He then leant forward and took the present from the table, placing it into your waiting hands. Snuggling into him, you began to carefully unwrap the present. The paper fell away to show a black velvet box, opening which caused you to gasp loudly.

Inside was a ring, a beautiful woven band of silver with a small diamond set with precision in the middle.

“Will you marry me?”

The words were murmured next to your ear, soft and laced with anxiety. Your stomach did a somersault for him, your beautiful, self-assured dumbass was really afraid that you would turn him down.

You twisted in his embrace, softly kissing him before whispering “Yes,” against his lips. His answering smile was one you were never going to forget, so full of joy and love, and all for you. Only for you.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as Max gently took the ring box from you. 

He took the ring from the box and slid it onto your ring finger, sealing the placement with a kiss.

The rest of the evening flew by. Between the glasses of red, feeding each other chocolate and laughing, it felt like time had turned to liquid around you. Max was running his fingers through your hair, his gaze fixated on your neck.

It was time.

“Ready sweetheart?” He simply asked, as if you weren’t about to give up your rhythmic heartbeat for him. The anticipation was making your heart race and you wondered if you would ever miss the feeling of it hammering in your ribs.

“Yes Max, ready as I’ll ever be,” You affirmed, your hand seeking his own and instinctively locking with it.

You skin felt alight, burning hot when you felt the smooth curve of his fangs brush against your neck.

“Happy deathday baby.”

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On Ch7: Home, Sweet Home!

Summary: Frank and Fliss find their perfect family home, but there’s something bothering Mary.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Discussions about suicide. A little bit of angst.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: This is a bit of an emotionally charged filler chapter…and we move time on a little through to June in the middle. And photos of the Adler house are included so you can visualise what I used for inspiration! Chapter Song: Kill For A Dream by Beady Eye

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

You’re giving it another try, staring at the deep blue sky, and you say to the driver just drive, coz you never felt so alive.

April 2019

“Hey honey, you ok?” Frank juggled his phone, pinning it between his ear and his shoulder as he leaned over his computer in the office, scanning the database on the screen for a filter part they needed to order.

“No, I mean yes! I’ve just heard some awesome news!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so you remember the guy that bought the house that backs onto the yard when Old Man River died…” “That wasn’t his name.” Frank chuckled “It was Mr Morris.”

“He called himself River, it was funny and suited him. Anyway, that’s not the point. You know the guy who bought it…guess what I found out before?”

Frank stopped what he was doing and straightened up. He didn’t like that dick, one bit. When Mr Morris had died at the start of the year, Fliss had been quite upset about the news as the old man had been very friendly to her, often popping in for a cup of tea a few afternoons a week for some company. Mr Morris’ son had sold the house without them even knowing it had gone on the market, which was a shame as it would have been perfect for them given the location. The guy who had bought it, Frank didn’t even know his name, nor did he care because he was a douchebag and a pervert to boot. The way he looked at Fliss made Frank want to punch his face in.

“What’s Douchey Mc Douchebag done now?”

“You’re so childish.” she scoffed “Anyway, I was only commenting to Joanne last night that we haven’t seen him for like a month and she went home and mentioned it to her dad who works with some other guy in the property development business and the long and short of it is he’s gone bankrupt Frank!”

Frank laughed loudly “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy, babe!”

“I know right!” Fliss voice was gathering pace and pitch, the way it always did when she was excited. “So literally about half hour after she’s told me this, someone turns up and there’s a For Sale sign outside, the house is on the market!”

Ok now he was interested. Frank could picture the look of excitement on her face as she spoke to him and he felt the smile cross his face “No shit?”

“Yeah, I’ll send you the website to look at the photos but…oh God, it would be perfect! Some of it is really nice, some of it needs decorating but…” “Ok, well, why don’t you call the realtor? Arrange a viewing” he said “Hopefully you won’t puke halfway round this one.” “Ok, first off that wasn’t my fault. Bean objected to the smell. Who the fuck cooks eggs the day they know they have someone coming to view their house?” her indignant tone made Frank chuckle “And second off…”she paused “I already did. He said he can meet us at half 12.”

“Half 12? As in lunch time? Today?” Frank frowned.

“I know I just really don’t want to miss out on this one Frank, and you said you were gonna come up here for lunch and-”

“Ok, ok.” Frank sighed “I’ll shuffle some stuff around, work a little later tonight and take an extra half hour.”

“I love you.” she replied and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Good job I love you too.” he said back gruffly “Because you’re a pain in my ass.”

He bid her goodbye and just as he was looking at the rota to make sure there were enough staff in to cope if he took a longer lunch, his phone beeped. He clicked through to the link Fliss had sent him and had a scan through the photos. To be fair the house didn’t look in too bad condition. It was deceptive from the outside, looked like a small farmhouse but they knew thanks to the extension Douchebag had put on the back it now formed an L shape and from the look of it, was pretty spacious. The kitchen was new, the main bathroom was new so the big work looked like it had been mostly done. The décor in some of the rooms was really old fashioned, especially the hallway you and the front reception room, but that was all cosmetic. What really grabbed him was the price. It was up for just over 320 thousand, which was a fucking steal considering the size, location, the garden and the garge/outhouse it came with.

“You ok Frank?”

He looked up and smiled as Alan, his boss walked in to the office. “Yeah, sorry, Fliss has found a house and managed to book a viewing for lunch time. Fucking 7th one in 2 weeks.”

Alan snorted “Keeping you on your toes I see?”

“Well I gotta say, this one’s looking pretty good. It’s the house that backs onto our Yard out in Pinellas Park.” Frank explained “It was sold not even 6 months ago to a developer and he’s apparently gone bankrupt so put it back on the market.”

“Huh.” Alan smiled “Sounds like it was meant to be. Take it you’re going then?”

“Yeah, Charlie and Gary are in all afternoon. I thought I could take an extra half hour, work it back tonight or…” “Frank, when was the last time you actually took a full hour for your lunch and didn’t cut it short by 10 or 15?” Alan looked at him.

Frank hesitated “Yeah, but that’s-”

“No buts.” Alan shook his head. “Do what you gotta do.”

“Thanks Alan.” Frank smiled, “I appreciate it.”

Alan waved away his gratitude before he dropped into the chair on the opposite side of Frank’s small desk and gestured for Frank to sit down.

“I wanted to talk to you in person.” Alan said, “Before the news gets out. I’m looking at retiring Frank, fully this time.”

“That’s good news, for you I mean.” Frank smiled, taking his seat. “You must be happy?”

“Kinda bitter sweet.” he shrugged “But I hit 70 this year and bout time I let it all go. Bill’s already chomping at the bit to book damned fishing trips so...it’ll be nice to step back. But I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Shoot.”

“My son, James is going to be taking over, that won’t come as any surprise to you as you’ve seen him knocking around a bit and he likes you.”

“Good to know I’m not going to be out on my ass.” Frank smiled, breathing out a little.

“No, not a chance. I wouldn’t allow it.” Alan said “I’ll still be the owner, just stepping back from major decision making and day to day running. Anyway, the point is Frank, James needs a deputy. He is young and a little inexperienced. I’ve seen how quickly over the last year you’ve picked up rotas, staffing issues, dealt with the stock takes, haggled with the supply chain…I wondered if you’d consider it.”

Frank blinked “You wanna make me deputy manager?”

“In a word, yes. And I know you got your hands full at the moment and they’ll be even more full when that boy of yours arrives but the changes won’t come into effect until the end of the year so we got plenty of time to work out the details.”

“Wow, I err…” Frank shook his head “I don’t know what to say.” “I don’t need an answer now.” Alan said, “Take some time to consider it. Talk it over with Fliss.”

“I will, I’ll give it some thought.” “Ok, well, that’s all I dropped in for.” Alan said, standing up, groaning a little “Did you just hear my damned knees click?”

Frank laughed and shook his head “No, but to be honest mine click too so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Getting old sucks.” Alan said, shaking his head “I tell ya, the minute I can’t enjoy the simple things in life, put a bullet in my head.”

Frank snorted as Alan shot him a wink and left him to his thoughts.

******* Frank glanced down at the wooden boards beneath his feet in the entrance hall. They were solid old wood, oak he thought, and with a clean and polish would look stunning. He looked up and saw Fliss talking animatedly to the realtor, a young man called David as he nodded and gestured to his left. Fliss opened the door and looked at Frank who followed her into the first reception room. It smelt musty, and there was an old sofa and threadbare carpet in the room but it was light and had a nice, airey feeling to it thanks to the large windows at the front of the house.

“New carpet and a bit of paint…” Frank mused nodding, “Be good as new.”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes shining a she looked around and nodded at the fire place “Really, in Florida?”

“It gets cold, as you know.” he teased “Besides, we just fill it with some of your million candles or whatever…”

She nudged him and they turned around, David watching them.

“So, you’re obviously in the older part of the house that hasn’t really been touched apart from upstairs.” he explained, “But if you follow me I’ll show you the extension which is all new and, well, to be honest, I think it’s stunning.”

The three of them moved back into the hall and through a door at the end which led into a huge open plan kitchen and living area. The kitchen was gorgeous. Sleek white units, modern appliances, marble tops, a huge breakfast bar. Douchebag had clearly spent a fortune doing this up. The floor was a light grey and white laminate which David pointed out was heavy wearing.  To the left of the kitchen area was a huge space where Frank could clearly picture their sofas and TV, and then just off that was a door which led into another smaller reception room, freshly painted and carpeted.  He was just pondering how they could turn that into a play room when Fliss gave a gasp and nudged Frank pointing to the large bay window at the back which had been converted into a seating nook of sorts. They made their way over and saw that the view extended right over their garden highlighting a small pool area which was surrounded by a low set of railings with a gate that were all painted a glossy black. The pool itself was sparklingly clean and clearly brand new.

“Oh wow… “ Fliss mumbled, looking at the sand stone tiles that surrounded the area and the rest of the garden.

“Yeah the rear garden loops in an L round the house” David said. “There’s a larger fence around this area to keep it private and separate from the land at the front that runs flush to the yard area.”

Frank’s hands dropping to her hips as he nodded to the right “Could extend that little patio area for a table and chairs, maybe build a brick BBQ. Couple of sun-loungers for that bit at the back of the pool.”

She nodded eagerly before they headed back into the hallway they’d entered into where the realtor showed them the little room that was to the right as you came in the door which held a number of shelves and coat hooks and a toilet and sink basin. They then headed up stairs to find 4 bedrooms. The master extended down the entire side of the house overlooking the main yard area of Sandybrook. It needed some work, the plaster and paint was peeling away in some areas, but Frank wasn’t worried at that. It was an easy job. What he was pleased to see was that the rest of it was in good condition. There was a brand new en-suite attached to it, housing a toilet, a huge shower and his and hers sinks. The room also had built in wardrobes and huge ceiling to floor bi-folding doors which opened up onto a small balcony. Douchebag had clearly been focussing on the big jobs first before he got into the cosmetics, which Frank had to give him credit for.

The main bathroom was in between the wall of their en-suite and the next bedroom, both situated at the back of the house over the extension and overlooking the fields belonging to the yard. The plaster was fresh in that bedroom but hadn’t been painted, again, not an issue, because Frank knew a certain little miss would be no doubt picking a colour as soon a she spotted this room.

“Bet Mary chooses this one.” Frank said, voicing his thoughts and Fliss nodded, smiling

“I would if the Master didn’t have that en-suite.” she grinned “Look at that view!”

“Yeah, who’d have thought you could work from home in the equestrian business” he chuckled as they then headed to the next bedroom on the opposite side of the landing. This was also rather large, but like the main part of the master bedroom, was clearly one of the original two bedrooms the house had and it needed some updating.

The 4th bedroom was a smaller one up a narrow set of stairs hidden by door in the hallway. It opened up into an attic room which tucked into the roof of the house.

The realtor then led them back down and the out to the outbuildings. There was a huge garage with a half- finished apartment of sorts above it that had been used as storage but could be easily a guest suite if they so wanted,  and then the thing Frank had really loved was the workshop off the side of the garage, accessed by a small door. It was musty and full of crap but was somewhere for him to store all his tools and work on any side projects he decided to pick up.

All in all Frank was finding it pretty damned hard to pick faults in the place.

As they headed back to the main house and Frank asked David politely to give them a moment to look around alone and he nodded eagerly before Frank and Fliss headed back into the house.

“I’m getting good vibes Sailor.” Fliss said as she turned round, looking at the kitchen, once more heading over to the bay window seat, “really good vibes.” she spun back to him and he smiled at the look on her face. “I mean, ok, a few rooms need decorating and there’s some finishing off bits to do all over but it’s nothing that dad can’t help with and I’m sure-“

At that she stopped dead, and gave a little gasp as her hand flew to her bump.

“You ok?” Frank stepped forward.

“Yeah he’s…” she swallowed “Bean’s kicking, Frankie! Quick!”

He reached out with his hand and she took it, pressing it to the side of her bump. After a second or two he felt something wriggle a little under his palm and he looked at Fliss, his face cracking into an open mouthed smile as he felt his son move for the first time.

“Lissy…” he swallowed his eyes misting over. “That’s…oh my God!”

“You should feel it from my POV!” Fliss smiled her own eyes glassy too.

Frank didn’t want to take his hand away. Instead, he kept moving his palm, tracking their baby’s movements when eventually they stopped.

“I think that means BB likes the house.” Fliss looked at him.

Frank scoffed, shaking his head. “BB’s Momma likes the house.”

“Doesn’t his Daddy?” she asked, her hands sliding round his neck.

“Yeah, his Daddy does.” he replied honestly in a low voice as he looked around the large room. “In fact, I like it a lot.”

“You think Mary will?”

“Are you kidding?” Frank snorted “Soon as she sees that view and that pool, she’ll be packing to move in straight away.”

“Suppose there’s only one way to find out.” Fliss smiled.

So they did. They brought Mary back the next day after school. She had squealed at the window seat, yelled about the pool and as she had shot upstairs and headed into the bedroom Frank had predicted she would like, given a jump for joy as she realised from the upstairs she had a view over the tall picket fencing that shielded the private area of the garden.

“I can see Monty!” she gleefully pointed out before turning to Frank and looking at him then to Fliss, her hands on her hips “If you don’t buy this house you’re a pair of dumbasses.”

The same sentiment was echoed by Bill when he turned up fifteen minutes or so later and walked around with Frank whilst Fliss and Mary headed to feed the horses. He did exactly the same thing he had done when they had looked at the apartment, pointed out what they needed to do, how long it should take them to do, rough estimates of cost. Plus, he also reminded Frank they were in a great position. They could buy the place and then give his months’ notice on the apartment meaning they could stay where they were until it was finished.

So that was it. Decision made. The next morning they went in with a cheeky offer, some twenty thou below the asking price which was rejected instantly. Then they upped their offer by five…then an additional three to total eight, with the fact that they were cash buyers and not in a chain a huge bargaining chip.

It was later that evening, just after they had finished dinner when the realtor called back.

“Evening Mr Adler, ok so…I have spoken to the vendor. He says if you can up your offer by another two thousand then you’ve got a deal.” David spoke. At that, Frank let out a huge grin, as he looked out of the kitchen window at Mary and Fliss who were outside the apartment, both sat on a chair round the table. He and Fliss had both agreed they were prepared to go to the full asking price, in their mind it was worth it, but they were about to seal the deal here for ten thousand less.

“Ok, two thousand more.” Frank said, keeping his voice level “But the property comes off the market as we don’t want anyone else spotting it and offering him more before we exchange contracts.” he repeated word for word what Greg had instructed him to do when he had asked him to handle the conveyancing earlier that morning.

“Ok, so the offer on the table is Three-ten on the proviso he grants exclusivity…” David repeated. “Ok, leave it with me.”

Frank finished loading the dishwasher, and had just grabbed himself a beer when David called back not even five minutes later.

“Congratulations Mr Adler, you have a deal.”

He thanked him, and grinning ear to ear headed outside, jumping down the steps onto the lawn.

“What you looking so pleased about?” Fliss looked up at him suspiciously.

“David called… we’ve settled on three-ten plus exclusivity” he smiled

“What, you mean…” Fliss’ mouth fell open and Frank nodded.

“Yup, subject to contracts, the place is ours!”

Mary gave a loud cheer as Fliss jumped up and leapt at him as he smiled, wrapping her in his arms, swinging her up slightly.

“I can’t believe it…” she whispered. “Our own home!”

“I know�� he beamed, setting her down as he gave her a quick peck. “I’ll call Greg in the morning. When I talked to him about it he said that with no loans involved it shouldn’t take too long. We could be looking a having the keys in a month.” His hands dropped to her hips, palms resting either side of where his son was growing “So plenty of time to do his nursery.” Fliss grinned and using the arms that were round his neck pulled his face down to hers and pressed a fierce kiss to his mouth. “God I love you.” she mumbled. “Love you too.” he grinned, kissing her again, ignoring Mary’s fake puking noises in the background.

*******

******

June 2019

“Mr Adler?"

Frank stopped as he had been striding over the yard to collect Mary and turned to see Mrs McCarthy, her teacher walking towards him.

"Hi." He smiled, removing his sunglasses so he could look her in the eyes.

"I'm so sorry to bother you"

"No bother at all." He assured her "is everything OK?"

Mrs McCarthy glanced over to where Mary was stood talking to her friend, Rosie, and turned back to him

"Yes...nothing too drastic but I wanted to make you aware about a little incident in class this afternoon"

Frank looked at her, blinking "incident?"

"Maybe that's the wrong word." The older, blonde woman said "Look, as you know next week it's the end of year Gala, the fundraiser and we invite the parents to join us for activities.”

Frank nodded, wishing the woman would get to the damned point. He was hot, dirty and bothered after an afternoon of helping the team on a particularly awkward repair and wanted nothing more than to stand under a cold shower for an hour and flop down outside with a beer.

"Well, one of the girls asked Mary if she was bringing her mom and if they were making anything for the bake sale and Mary rather bluntly told the girl her mother was dead and then clammed up. She didn't speak a word for the rest of the afternoon."

Frank felt his chest tighten as he looked over at Mary who was now giggling with Rosie and sighed

"She didn't do anything wrong" Mrs McCarthy pressed "I was just a little worried."

"OK...thanks for letting me know, I'll make sure she's ok." Frank assured her.

The woman nodded and headed back across the yard as Frank gave a sharp whistle and slid his aviators back onto his face. Mary looked up and said goodbye to Rosie and came wandering over as Frank waved to Rosie's mom who tossed a hand in greeting in response.

"I'm not Thor" she said, fixing Frank with a stare.

"I know but I couldn't be bothered walking over." He said honestly as they climbed into the truck

"You have a good day?"

"It was OK." She shrugged. Frank eyed her for a second before she pulled the car away from the kerb and set off down the road.

"What's for dinner." Mary asked.

"Steak, baked potatoes and salad." He replies "Fliss' choice."

"Are you grilling?" Mary asked.

"Yup." He nodded

"Cool." Mary nodded "Can I go in the pool before?"

"Got any homework?" Frank countered with another question as he looked at her. Mary shook her head

“End of year next week and Uni didn't give me any summer work."

"Then yeah, of course you can.”

Frank didn't raise the so called incident, deciding to let her chill out a little bit at home first and digest how she felt. After 20 minutes or so of general chat Frank pulled up their driveway and stopped the truck next to Fliss' truck. As they hopped out Mary glanced across the garden over the smaller part of the fence where she could just see Fliss walking across the yard.

"Please can I go see Monty?" She looked at Frank and he nodded.

"I'll watch you." He agreed. With a grin she sprinted over the lawn, climbed over the fence and dropped over onto the other side. Thor gave a bark and Fliss turned round and smiled at her, before she waved at Frank. He waved back before he headed down the side of the house, through the gate in the larger fence before he unlocked the back door and stepped inside the cool air conditioned kitchen, kicking off his shoes and heading straight to the fridge for a beer. Draining half in one he stood, looking around and smiling. They’d finally unpacked the last box yesterday evening and Fliss was still in the process of moving things around their new home, positioning them where she wanted them.

True to Greg’s word, they’d had the keys to the house 4 and a half weeks after making the offer, and 2 weeks post that once the bedrooms and hall had been decorated with a lot of help from Bill, Verity and Roberta (who had been happy for them yet still cried her eyes out when they’d left the park, despite the fact they had assured her they would still come visit and she could also come stay with them too) they’d moved in. The only thing left to do was the reception room (which could wait, it was easy to just shut the door and pretend it didn’t exist) and Bean’s nursery, which he, Fliss and Mary had decided to do together as a project. Mary and Fliss had spent nights pouring over Pinterest for ideas and they’d finally settled on a scheme. Frank had picked up all the plastering supplies and the paint, the furniture was on order and should be arriving at any time that week now he thought about it…so hopefully that weekend they could get cracking. That might cheer Mary up now he thought about it.

Taking his beer with him, he picked up his boots and took them to the cloakroom/bathroom by the stairs. He trudged up the steps, shaking his head at Fred who was led at the top, his paws hanging over the edge of the step as he eyed Frank.

"You're gonna cause a fucking accident." He looked at the ginger cat who merely swished his tail in response. Frank headed into their bedroom, stripping off as he went, walking straight into the en-suite, turning on the shower, setting his beer down on the edge of the sink unit. He stepped in and under the stream of cool water, closing the screen behind him, his mind still on Mary and how he was going to bring up what her teacher has said. With a groan he opened the door, reached out of the cubicle for his beer, took another gulp before he set about washing the grime of the day away.

***** "Have you finished grooming him?" Fliss asked, standing in the doorway to Monty's stable. Mary glanced over from where she had been brushing through his white tail and nodded.

"Wanna take him to the paddock?" Fliss smiled. "Cap and Bronson are waiting for their little pal."

"Sure." Mary shrugged and Fliss frowned a little at her demeanour. She was quiet, which was unlike her when she was round the horses. She was normally full of excitement.

"You OK?" She asked and Mary nodded.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem quiet, that's all."

"No, I'm good." She shrugged, before she tossed her brush into the little grooming box she had, closing the lid and passing it to Fliss. Fliss placed the box into the larger wooden one outside the stable before Mary put Monty's halter on and led him out of his stall. Fliss allowed them to walk ahead, her hand on her bump as she followed them out of the yard and down the little path to the gate that led to the paddocks. They reached the one were Monty was going and undoing the gate, Mary led him in. The white pony stood patiently for her to take his halter off before he stuck his nose into the crook of her neck and shoulder. Fliss smiled as Mary gently stroked his neck and then to her utter horror she saw Mary’s shoulders begin to shake as the girl started to cry.

"Hey, Mary..." she soothed, stepping forward as the small girl turned to her, wrapping her arms around her as best she could, pressing her face into her bump "Oh baby what's wrong?"

Mary didn’t reply, instead she continued to sob and Fliss felt powerless to do anything other than wrap her arms around her, one hand resting on her head, the other between her shoulders.

“Something happened at School…” Mary whispered and Fliss gently tipped her head up to look at her. “Someone said something and…”

“Ok, how about we go back to the office and you can tell me all about it ok?”

Mary nodded, sniffing as her sobs died down. Fliss held out her hand and Mary took it and together they headed back down to the yard. Joanne looked at Mary who was hiccupping slightly with her sobs and frowned but Fliss shook her head.

“Can you feed the top barn for me and then you can go.” she said to Jo who nodded. “I’ll lock up.” “Sure, see you tomorrow. Bye Mary.” she smiled. Mary looked at her and gave a small wave before Fliss led her into the office. She grabbed them both an apple juice from the fridge and then Mary sat on the chair at the end of the desk, wiping her eyes with a tissue that Fliss handed her from the box.

“You ready to talk?”

Mary nodded, and then she stood up and walked over to Fliss who made room for her to clamber up onto her lap. It was a bit awkward but after a little shifting around they found a way she could sit unobstructed by Boston Bean and Mary lay her head against Fliss’ shoulder.

“It was about the gala.” she said gently “One of them asked me if my mom was coming and…”

“Oh sweetie.” Fliss sighed, rubbing her back. “I get that must have been hard.”

Mary shrugged “I told them she was dead.” she said matter of factly “I get that and I never knew my mom so I don’t miss her as a person…but then I started to think about why she died and I don’t understand.” “Understand what?”

“Why?” Mary looked at her. “Why would she do what she did when she had me? Why did she want to leave me behind?”

Fliss took a deep breath and cradled the girl as best she could, trying to think of a way to explain to which Mary could relate, and then it came to her, she could use her own experience here. There was no getting around the fact this was going to be a heave conversation, but Mary was a smart kid and deserved to be treated as such.

With another deep inhale, Fliss looked down at her, kissing her head before she opened rather bluntly "You know I tried to kill myself."

"You did?" Mary pulled back to look up at her "Why?"

"Because I saw it as my only way out." Fliss said gently, smoothing her hair back. "I was stuck in an awful situation. My ex-husband hurt me physically and mentally and I gave up. I wanted out."

Mary remained silent and looked at her.

"For someone to get to that point...they have to have hit rock bottom. Like there is nowhere to go. It's not their fault. And it doesn't mean they don't love the people they leave behind just that they're desperate to escape whatever pain they feel, be it in their head or their body or both."

"But I still don't understand." Mary shook her head.

"And you may never, not fully." Fliss said gently "And as horrible as it is that's something you are gonna have to live with but you have to remember that your mom was sick. And for whatever reason she saw this as her only escape. It wasn't Evelyn's fault, it wasn't Frank's fault and it certainly wasn't yours."

"But if she loved me like Frank says she did..."

"You think I don't love my mum? Or Bill? Or Steve?"

Mary blinked before she lay her head back against Fliss' shoulder. "Yeah"

"But I was still gonna leave them behind." Fliss sighed "I was desperate. And you wanna know the real stupid thing?"

"What?"

"When I got better I still went back. I went back to a real toxic environment and a man that abused me. Because I felt like it was what I deserved. And even though I left him way before I met you and Frank, it wasn't until me and Frank started dating that I really understood I wasn't to blame. I always thought I did something to make him hurt me but I didn't. Being with Frank, the way he treats me and loves me made me see that it was him with the problem, not me.”

"But that's different" Mary glanced up

"The trigger was, yes." Fliss nodded "But your mom, like me, was in a position so helpless, so unbelievably sad that she thought she was to blame and that the world, including you, would be better off without her even though she was so wrong."

**** Once showered and dried, Frank dressed in a pair of shorts and clean T-shirt before he headed back downstairs. There was no sign of Fliss or Mary but as he strode out into the garden he heard a car heading down the drive by the side of the house from the yard and correctly assumed it was Joanne leaving for the day. He opened the gate and just saw the tail of her car turn onto the main road as he headed into the garage for the charcoal to light the BBQ.

Once that was done, leaving the flames to die down he headed out across the lawn, vaulting over the small fence onto the yard. He headed round the barn and frowned as he couldn't see anyone. After a quick look round he spotted the door to Fliss' office was closed. He went to open it but stopped as he could hear the sound of voices. It was Mary and Fliss but he could tell from the pitch and stutters in Mary's that she was upset. He paused, hand hovering over the handle as he heard Fliss speaking to her softly. "Stack, you are so loved. Frank loves you, I love you, Nanny V, Poppa Bill, Uncle Steeby, Roberta, Evelyn...Thor, Fred and Monty..." she paused "You're such a special little girl and I know I'm not your mom but...I feel like I am."

"You do?"

"I'd do anything to keep you safe and happy. And so would Frank"

They both fell silent and Frank swallowed, the lump in his throat almost choking him.

"Don't ever feel like we don't" Fliss continued "and if I have to bake 200 fucking cookies for your Gala next week to prove it then I will."

Mary giggles "You know Bean can hear you swearing."

"Well I won't tell Frank if you don't"

"Do you think Frank feels like my dad?" Mary asked a moment later and at that point Frank really wanted to walk away. He couldn't listen to this, he didn't want to listen to this...but something kept him rooted to the spot.

"I know he does." Fliss replied.

"But he doesn't like it when people say it. I know that, I heard him talking to you. Bill’s not your real dad but you still say he is…."

“That’s slightly different sweetheart.” Fliss sighed "My real dad left my mom before I was born, so when he died…I didn’t even know him and I don’t care that I didn’t either. But your mom was Frank's sister. He wants to make sure you remember her, understand who she was. He could have easily just pretended to be your dad all this time, you would never have known any different but he didn't. Because he loves you and your mom too much. He's too honest and it’s important to him that you understand. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love you like he is your dad, or that you can't love him like he is."

Frank turned away from the door, looking up at the sky and taking a deep shuddering breath. Fuck, this was hard to hear. He knew Mary had been upset before but the thought that it ran this deep was killing me. Wiping at his face, his hands then dropped to his hips and he looked down at his sneakers before he turned to the door, reaching for the handle but once more pausing as he couldn’t face interrupting them, not whilst they were in the middle of a moment.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Mary continued  “And I do love him like he is. And I love you like you’re my mom too.”

“Well that’s all that matters.” Fliss replied “It may be unconventional but we’re a family, and that’s the main thing huh?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks Lissy.” Mary spoke.

“You’re welcome Stack” Lissy’s voice was soft and there was a pause as Frank could picture the pair of them hugging.

“Hey, did you now I’m going to be doing all the money stuff for the bake stall?” Mary’s voice was suddenly up beat as she switched topic “Because I’m good at maths they said I could be in charge of payments and handing people their change and stuff.”

“Nice work kiddo.” Fliss smiled, “Tell you what, we’ll put Nanny V on the case, her baking is way better than mine. We can get her over one night next week whilst Pops is helping Frank with the plastering in the nursery.”

Ok, that was it, safe to enter without interrupting anything. Frank gave a little knock and then opened the door, fixing a smile on his face.

“Hope I haven’t interrupted any girl talk” he smiled and Mary jumped up and ran to him, giving him a hug. He looked at Fliss who wiped her eyes.

“Ok?” he mouthed at her and she nodded back, her lips moving silently as she replied.

“Tell you later.”

“BBQ is lit.” Frank said, looking down at Mary “You still wanna play in the pool?”

She nodded and grinned. “Yeah.”

“Sounds like a great idea.” Fliss grinned “Let’s lock up and head home…oh wait, we don’t need to head home because…” “We’re already there!” Mary grinned, and then she spun round to see Fred peering round the door. “Hey, look who came to visit!” “Bout time he earned his keep.” Frank grumbled “Go catch some mice.”

Fred stalked past him into the office, looked around, before he sauntered back out, clearly not interested.

“He’s a lover not a killer Frank.” Mary grinned, as Frank watched the cat walk off into the evening sun.

The three of them locked up before they headed back to the house and Mary shot upstairs to get changed.

“So, how much did you hear?” Fliss turned to Frank as he pulled a beer from the fridge along with a bottle of water, sliding it over to her.

“Enough.” he sighed “Her teacher collared me before. Said that one of the kids had asked about her mom in class and she’d gotten upset.”

“She asked me why Diane did what she did.” Fliss sighed, “Why she left her behind if she loved her so much.”

Frank swallowed. “What did you say?”

“I explained about why I tried to kill myself.” Fliss shrugged “Told her about the desperation I felt…but that didn’t mean that I didn’t love my family just that I saw it as my only way out. I know it was heavy and maybe not really the right thing to do but...”

She was cut off as Frank stepped forward, taking her face in his hands as he kissed her, hard. It took her a moment to catch up but once she did she melted into him, her mouth opening to grant him access as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip.

“Thank you.” he said gently as he pulled away, his hands still cupping her face.

“What for?” Fliss asked, reaching up to gently wrap her fingers around his wrists.

“For loving her as much as you do.” he said simply “for loving us both as much as you do.”

“Oh Sailor.” Fliss’ eyes brimmed with tears “How could I not?”

***** Frank didn’t sleep particularly well that night. Mary’s conversation with Fliss was running through his brain and every time he drifted off he would wake about an hour or so later, fresh worries and concerns running through his mind. In the end, at just before 5 am he gave up and climbed out of bed. He grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of sweats and putting them on he headed downstairs. He flipped on the TV in the hope the early morning new would distract him, but it didn’t.

It was clear to him that Mary was struggling with where she was going to fit in the family dynamic. He hadn’t really worried much up to that point, being convinced by Fliss that if they kept her involved with stuff to do with Bean she would be ok but this went much deeper than the fact they were expecting a baby.

He’d be lying if he said the thought of him claiming to be Mary’s Father had never entered his mind. It would have been a lot easier but out of loyalty and love to Diane he had wanted to make sure she knew about her mother, and understood the truth because in the end, a lie would always come round to bite you on the ass. It wasn’t that he had a problem with people assuming he was Mary’s father but…

God what a fucking mess.

“Hey…” a soft voice drew him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Fliss stood in the doorway, his T-shirt she was wearing now hardly covered the top of her thighs thanks to her Bean bump.

“Sorry beautiful, did I wake you?” he asked.

“No.” she shook her head, dropping down next to him. “I got up to pee and you were gone.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” he shrugged.

“What’s wrong handsome?”  she lay her head on his shoulder and he took a deep breath.

“Just thinking about Mary that’s all.” he shrugged. “She’s always asked questions about Diane but not like that.”

“She’s getting older Frank.” Fliss said, her hand reaching out for his as she began to play with his fingers “She’s bound to start thinking about things differently. She was ok last night after she talked to me, and then later you when you tucked her in. She doesn’t keep her feelings bottled up, and that’s good. It’s a testament to you that she feels like she can talk to us about things.”

“I know.” Frank looked down at her, kissing her head “I guess I just worry Lissy, worry about how she’s gonna feel when Bean is here and he’s calling us mom and dad and she doesn’t.”

“Frank.” Fliss sighed as she sat up straight. “Mary knows we love her. And what she calls us doesn’t change a damned thing. You’re worrying unduly now. We can’t do anything about that other than-“

“Yes, yes we could.” Frank looked at her. Fliss took a deep breath as his eyes locked onto hers, instantly understanding.

“I thought you said you’d never even consider adopting her?”

“I never thought I would.” he shrugged. “But it’s been playing on my mind after what mother said and then after last night…” “Why? What did Evelyn say?” Fliss asked.

“When she was here last, she told me that Diane’s memory wouldn’t suddenly fade if Mary called me dad…” he licked his lips “It was almost like she was giving me permission to do it…you know? Not that I need it or really give a shit what she thinks.” he paused, taking a deep breath “If I’m totally honest Diane isn’t the only reason I said I didn’t want to. I just never thought of myself as being dad material. I was such a screw up until I met you and I thought that by staying as her Uncle, it would give her that distance, you know?”

“Not dad material?” Fliss looked at him, shaking her head “Oh Frank, you idiot. You’ve done an amazing job with her…and you will do with Bean too.”

He smiled at her, sniffing slightly as she continued.

“But there is one person who’s opinion counts most here.” Fliss said gently “And that’s Mary. If you’re serious then you should ask her if it’s what she wants. Because after 9 years of calling you Frank…”

“I know.” Frank agreed, “And I agree, completely. It would have to be her decision. But at least if I ask her if she would like us to then-“

“Us?” Fliss looked at him, blinking. “You mean you want me to?”

“Of course I do.” Frank nodded, before he frowned slightly “But if that isn’t what you want, I understand. It’s a big-“ Fliss cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips “Of course I do Frank. I love Mary like she is my own anyway so…” Frank beamed at her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her head. “So, we’re agreed. We ask her?”

Fliss nodded and pulled back, her hand resting on his cheek. “We ask her.”

[choisansexual]

“My Cousin’s Best Friend”

For: @atinypiratequeen Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Fem Reader Genre: Realism/Angst/Smut+ Word Count: 4327 POV: second person POV

Preview: You blinked twice. Then a third time. A fourth. All the air in your lungs suddenly felt like water. Your eyes narrowed. No… fucking… way. Were you dreaming? You were definitely dreaming. Right? No. A doppelganger! Had to be. Because there was absolutely, positively, just… no fucki-- “Hey… nice to meet you. I’m Kim Hongjoong. Well… Hongjoong… or just Joong, is fine, too.” Perfectly articulated english. Fuck…!

“Damnit! Okay, stop. Stop! … Arghhhh, shit!”, you exclaimed loudly as moments of light alternated with pitch blackness. The deep rumbling of thunder followed sharp flashes of lightning as the rain pelted the roof like bullets. The scrolling marquee across bottom of the television screen, read in bold print, warnings of the storm. “Yeah, yeah, yeah…”, you paused in the middle of the living room staring at the screen momentarily. It was rather rare that a strong storm hit your area like this. Much less a storm strong enough to possibly knock the power out. Retrieving your phone from your back pocket, you check the time. It was half past seven in the evening. The sun was already gone from the sky. Checking the time stamp from the last text you’d received from your cousin, it read a quarter past six. Andrew was always the most punctual person you’d known. Always early, hardly on time. When he’d messaged that he’d landed and would be at the door in less than an hour, that’s exactly what you were expecting. Excitement bubbled back up from your stomach as it had been quite some time since you’d seen him. He was your best friend. The big brother you never had, and never knew you needed. So his visits were always a big occasion for you. Especially this one. Your parents had left town for the weekend to visit relatives out of state. You offered to stay and watch the house and surprisingly, they didn’t argue. Now, the entire house was at your free reign for the next 3 days. Not that you had a massive house party planned or anything, but it would definitely be nice to have your own privacy and space. 

Still absent-mindedly glaring at your glowing phone screen, the shadows in your living room began to dance as headlights moved outside of the living room window. Finally! He’s here! A rush of adrenaline shot through your veins and within seconds you were swinging the front door open. “Hey!”, you called out into the steady rain. Huddling into yourself in an effort to shield from the wind, and crossing your arms against your chest as you squinted in the dim porch lighting, Andrew responded with equal excitement. “Hey, you! We got stuck waiting on our rental car!”. Wait ... ‘we’? As you inhaled a breath in preparation to interrogate him, you heard a second door slam shut on the vehicle. There was a dark figure walking alongside Andrew as they approached up the driveway. But… he didn’t mention he was bringing anyone else with him… right? As they stepped onto the porch you were finally able to make out your cousin’s familiarity. Tossing your arms around his neck, completely disregarding the fact that he was absolutely sopping wet from the rain, your happiness over powered all other thoughts in that moment. That is until… “So… uh… yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t mention something sooner. It was literally a last minute thing and I figured since we have the house all to ourselves…”, Andrew’s voice trailed off. Gesturing in the air with his hands as he pretty much failed to present a valid explanation and he knew it. Ceasing to speak and just shrugging his shoulders with his sweet endearing smile, you immediately cut your eyes to the personage situated directly to his left. 

You blinked twice. Then a third time. A fourth. All the air in your lungs suddenly felt like water. Your eyes narrowed. No… fucking… way. Were you dreaming? You were definitely dreaming. Right? No. A doppelganger! Had to be. Because there was absolutely, positively, just… no fucki-- “Hey… nice to meet you. I’m Kim Hongjoong. Well… Hongjoong… or just Joong, is fine, too.” Perfectly articulated english.

Fuck…!

Your skin was feeling like it had been set on fire, from head to toe. You stared. A little too hard. You had no idea how long the silence had been present. Andrew laughed awkwardly, snapping you out of your trance. “Yeahhh… so, uh… he’s a foriegn exchange student from Korea that got assigned to my dorm… we got pretty tight, and I didn’t think it would be an issue for him to just… yunno… tag along!” Trailing off, Andrew left you two standing there face to face in the whipping rain as he disappeared through the front door and into the house. Turning on your heels, you quickly followed him inside. Once all three of you were in the warmth and safety of the living room, you were literally unable to peel your eyes from your cousin’s guest. Emerging from the hallway after taking in their small amount of luggage, Andrew prepared to take his seat in front of the television on the couch when you suddenly sprung to your feet. Quickly making your way to Andrew, grasping onto the sleeve of his sweater, you yanked him up and into the kitchen. 

“Have you… any idea…. any… idea… who… that is?!” You tried so hard to keep your voice hushed and quiet. If hissing counted as quiet. Andrew shrugged his shoulders once again. “I mean, he said he was kinda famous in Korea… and that he sang and danced with a buncha other dudes or something… I don’t know…”, his tone of voice laced with nonchalant disinterest. Huffing you rolled your eyes with your hands balled into fists against your hips. “Look, it’s not a big deal, okay? Even he told me that… so… just treat him like a normal person, alright? He’s my best friend at school, and honestly… he’s pretty cool, actually.” You could not believe what you were hearing. Was this even reality right now? What kind of warped dimension was this?! A look of exasperation twisted up Andrew’s features as he gazed down at you. “He’s really chill, okay? Stop acting weird!”, Andrew remarked as he furrowed his brows. Turning and walking out of the kitchen, he left you speechless and still attempting to comprehend the gravity of the confirmation that was just handed to you. So it really is… it really IS him. 

Tapping your nails against the countertop you momentarily contemplated on texting your friends. No. They wouldn’t believe you anyways. What if you took some candids of him and posted them to your tumblr and twitter? Ew, no. That’s creepy. Super creepy. Besides… he’s on vacation… right. In YOUR HOUSE! But still… respect his privacy. And… respect yours. He’s just a regular human being, right? Just like you and your cousin. Sighing heavily and rubbing both of your palms against your face, you wring your hands out and calm yourself enough to walk back into the living room. Sitting yourself down in the same spot on the sofa that you were prior, tucking one leg underneath yourself, your eyes darted across the room and landed on Joong’s face. My god he was just as breathtaking as the fan cams and fan photos you’d filled your blog with. Gnawing on his thumb nail and slowly rocking back and forth in the lay-z boy recliner, his eyes suddenly dart from the television screen and meet yours. Oh, shit! Dropping his hand from his mouth, he offered a partial smirk from the corner of his lips. You unknowingly gasp to yourself. Clearing your throat loudly you whip your head in Andrew’s direction. “So… how long was the flight here? How’s school? What have you been up to…?”, you spouted questions at him. He was unusually quiet tonight. His stories were always mesmerizing and interesting to hear. But tonight the fatigue on his face and in his body language was as loud as a fog horn. Pursing your lips in frustration you looked upon him anticipating an engrossing conversation. “Oh, man… there’s so much. You have no idea…”, he paused momentarily. “I don’t even know where to begin, honestly… my brain is just mush right now, from being so tired.” You knew it. Nodding and looking at the floor, your eyes lift as Andrew rises to his feet. Patting his hands against the sides of his jeans he looks at you and then at Joong and with that, you already knew what was coming next. “Welp… I think I’m going to shower and take my happy ass to bed. I’ll catch you up on everything in the morning, alright? Don’t worry.” His gaze returns to your face. A subtle wink from his left eye has you feeling the urge to sock him right in the mouth, as he shuffles across the living room floor, turning into the hallway and becoming no longer visible. The awkward silence returned like an inevitable looming cloud. 

“If you don’t mind… I think I might lay down, too?”, Joong’s melodic voice finally slicing through the thick tension in the air. “Oh, y-yeah… yeah, sure. Go right ahead.”, you immediately respond. Wondering if there was something you could have said to keep him right in his place and possibly more entertained. “Okay… thanks. Uhm… if you don’t mind… I’m not sure… could you show me where… please?”. He began to sit up from this chair. His eyes steadily trained on you like a sniper. It was almost intimidating. “Oh, sure! I’m… I’m sorry! I’m just so used to Andrew knowing where to go around here, I just--”

“It’s okay…”, Joong immediately cut you off. His tone offering reassurance since it was rather obvious that you were feeling like a total failure of a host, at that point. His lips parting into an almost blinding smile. His features were literally so flawless. So sharp and so overwhelmingly attractive! He gestured with one hand for you to walk ahead of him. Pressing your lips together to stifle a smile that was going to be bigger than it should have, you pass him. His scent being carried in the wind. It was intoxicating. A mixture of masculine fragrance. Slightly spicy with undertones of cool blue water and crystal clear ice. 

You trek down the darkened hallway and turn a sharp right into the guest room. Flipping on a dim bed side lamp, you spin around anticipating to see his gorgeous face again. Hearing soft shuffling across the carpet, several seconds later, he appears. You swore he got more and more attractive every time you looked at him. Inhaling a deep breath, you gesture around the room, pointing at things and offering a short explanation of the sparse decor in the room when you hear the door click shut behind you. Immediately cutting your eyes towards the sound, you’re met with the most devilish grin you’d ever seen in your life. Air catches in your throat. The shadows casting against his handsome features literally have your heart racing. Your mind scrambled to find an explanation for the situation. Your fight or flight instinct was on a hair trigger, until his soothing and melodic voice cut through the silence like a knife. “Thanks… but I’m sure I can figure it out from here.” He nodded. You nodded. Anxiously weaving your fingers together. So… is he going to let you out then? You take an apprehensive step closer towards the door, but he stood stead fast. His back leaning against the wood. “Got something else to do for the rest of the night…?”. Hongjoong’s bottom lip becomes trapped between his teeth. How incredibly sinful. “No… not really…”, your mind on high alert. He raises a single eyebrow. Pushing himself forward off the door, he takes a slow, single step towards you. Dropping his chin and narrowing his piercing gaze, you were sure you stopped breathing. His jaw shifting left to right as he continued to gnaw at his lower lip. He takes another step towards you. Your mind urges you to take a step backwards, but your feet insist on rebelling. The space between you two quickly closing. Another step and— the air catches in your throat. He was absolutely stunning at this distance. Or rather… lack there of. Perhaps star struck, in your mind, you just knew that you probably looked like that emoji with huge heart eyes and a cheesy smile, gazing back at him. One of his hands comes forward. With his palm facing sideways and index finger slightly curled, he slides it underneath your chin. Lightly lifting up your head, he tilts his own to the right. His gaze darting between your eyes and your lips, Hongjoong ever so cautiously dips his head down. Pressing his lips against yours, your eyes immediately flutter shut. Registering the sensation at a slight delay, you’d only began to relish in the softness of his lips when the hand hooked underneath your chin, slides up and around to cup the nape of your neck. Instinctively your lips reciprocate. Molding against his in a seamless seal. Pulling away just as slowly as he brought himself in,  he presses his lips together and drags his tongue between them. Keeping his forehead pressed against your own, he whispers against your mouth, “....okay?”. The only response you can manage is to offer a single nod of confirmation. Within that same second, Hongjoong returns his lips to your own. This time, parting them slowly, his tongue slides out beyond his teeth and into your mouth. The unexpected, forcing a soft whimper from your throat. The most beautiful note to ever grace his ears. His other hand sliding from the side of your hip, under the bottom hem of your sweater, and coming to press against the small of your bare back. His skilled tongue tangling with your own. Your eyes flutter shut and you momentarily lose yourself in the intensity of the kiss. Without even realizing it, the edge of the mattress was pressing against the back of your knees. With his palm still pressed to your lower back, he gently guides your down onto the sheets. His lips moving in the same direction as he peppered feathery kisses along your jawline, and the side of your throat. Inevitably coming to focus in the crook of your neck, his lips creating a light suction against your flesh. Rotating his hips just right, Hongjoong managed to wedge his way between your thighs. With his left arm bent at the elbow propping himself up above you, his right hand gently slides down the length of your left arm. His hand soon finding your own and weaving his fingers within yours. With his lips never leaving your flesh, he trails his way down the center of your chest and into the valley between your breasts. Stopping short only on the cause of the neckline of your shirt. Lowering himself, his eyes cut to your own. Drinking in every reaction he could pull from, his teeth bite down on the bottom hem of your top. Raising himself back up towards towards your face, your shirt bunches up just under your bustline. Immediately returning to his previous position, his lips resume their connection to the sensitive skin of your tummy. Kissing his way down to the top elastic of your pj bottoms, he looks up once again. Hongjoong’s smoldering gaze rendered you barely coherent and it was getting more and more difficult to focus on anything. But there it was again. That sinful tongue of his. Allowing it to slip from his lips, he drags the tip of his tongue along the bottom of his top lip. Left. Right. Releasing your hand, both of his hook into the waistband of your bottoms. His eyes still fixed on yours, he quietly asks again. “...okay?”. Just as before, a quick and single nod of confirmation, and he’s tugging the material down. Leaning back and up on his knees, you rock your hips to assist in the removal. Pulling them off your ankles and dropping them to the floor bedside, he then crosses his arms, gripping the bottom hem of his shirt and yanks it up over his head. The metal dog tags around his neck clang loudly as they fall back onto his broad chest. Swallowing hard, your eyes shamelessly drink in the sight before you. Tossing his shirt to join your pj pants on the floor, he leans back down over your body. Scooting himself back to adjust his position, his head turns to the right and he continues his trail of feathery kisses starting at your knee, moving down the inside of your thigh and ending directly, dead center, at the crotch of your soaked panties. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, your gaze cuts off to the side, then back to him. Off to the side, then back at him. He purses his lips and presses them against the dampened material. The warmth of his breath sends shock waves all the way to your toes. Bringing a hand up between your bodies, his lithe fingers traces the lacy edge of the fabric. Hooking his index finger underneath the material, he pulls it to the side, fully exposing you to him, as his face sat literally inches away. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you swallow hard. Fuck… you shaved last night, right? Or… wait… was it the other day? No… it was this morning! It had to be-- “Auuhhhhnnn!….”, suddenly grounded back into reality as your body responded completely on it’s own, a soft moan spills from your lips as the tip of his tongue delves between your dripping folds. Lashing in an up and down direction, he laps at your core. His free hand coming up to gently pull your folds apart, as he flattens his tongue  against your swollen clit. Being able to hear nothing but your own heart beat pounding in your ears, laced with the lewd noises of sloshing wetness coming from between your legs, your chest rises and falls as your body jerks with each pass of his tongue. Strangle whimpers and drawn out whines tear from your throat as the coiling heat in the pit of your stomach churns. Tangling your fingers into the bedsheets on either side of you, you fight to keep your legs open for him. Feeling your thighs beginning to tremble, Hongjoong suddenly stops. Voiding you of any contact with him, you feel the mattress shift underneath you. Snapping your eyes open, just in time to lock gazes with him, he’s now hovering over you at eye level. Pressing your lips together tightly, that same wickedly seductive expression was plastered all over his face, as his tongue glides over his bottom lip. My god… he’s so beautiful. The dim lighting in your room proved to be a curse just as much as a blessing in that moment as you turned your head to the side, momentarily attempting to catch your breath. Catching his perfectly defined silhouette against the far wall, you admire every hard line as your eyes travel it’s length. Inevitably coming to settle on the shameless bulge on the front of his figure, your head whips back to face him. Holding himself up above you via on hand planted beside your head, his other hand was already wedged between your bodies, making quick work of the front of his pants. Searching his eyes, desperate for any kind of communication before anything else happened, he drops himself down towards you. His dewy lips brushing lightly against your own as the words trickle into your mouth. “You want this…?” In the same moment, you feel the large and smooth head of his cock toying between your soaked folds, just as his tongue had done, minutes earlier. 

Fuck! How could you not?! Temporarily unable to answer, as your eyes flutter shut, his lips press against your own and with his free hand gripping the hilt of his shaft, he continues to tease at your pussy. Skillfully rubbing circles against your clit with the tip of his cock, the friction was absolutely knee-buckling. Pushing your head back into the pillow to create enough space to break the kiss, you pant out the answer that you knew he was patiently waiting to hear. “Y-yes….”.

Without a second to spare and his reaction time seamless, Hongjoong rears his hips back, aligning himself with your entrance. Locking his lips against your own in a conscious effort to muffle the sounds that were to come, he applies pressure with his hips. Feeling yourself stretch around him as he entered you, you suck in a sharp breath through your nose, in return, moaning into his mouth. Your hands grip at his bare shoulder blades, feeling the muscles in his back flex as he thrusts forward. Ceasing his movements only once his lower pelvis leaned flush against the back of your thigh, it was obvious that he was silently at war to keep himself as still as possible, allowing your to adjust to him. Squeezing your floor muscles around his shaft, he suddenly breaks the kiss with a harsh gasp. His torso curls inward as his back bows against your fingernails, and his forehead presses against your collarbone. Seconds later, he blesses you with the sweetest sound you’d probably ever heard in your life. “Auhh-Auuugghhhnn… fuck!”, a lewd moan spills forth from him as he grits his teeth in his face. Panting heavily against your skin, your trail your hands down to each side of his hips as a gesture to let him know that you were okay. Only then did he begin to move. 

Starting with slow and shallow strokes, his body rocks gently against yours. His lips busy working the side of your throat. The slick sounds of flesh on flesh echo through your bedroom. Allowing you plenty of adequate time to take this at your own pace, you’re quick to sense that Hongjoong  was fighting to keep himself in tandem. Your hands slide from his hips down to hook into the back of his thighs and you begin to pull him into you with every inward stroke. Able to read the signals like a well memorized book, he begins to quicken the pace. Keeping flawless rhythm for several minutes to follow, it wasn’t until his movements began to stutter and stumble that you knew he was getting dangerously close. Clamping your muscles around him, his groans grew in volume and frequency. “Sh-Shit… Auugghnn…. Augghnnnnn!”, his voice becoming raspy and ragged. Eventually unable to keep your own climax at bay, you decided if you were going over the edge, you were taking him with you. 

Hongjoong’s thighs begin to quiver as your own begin to violently shake. Feeling the swell rise in the bottom of your belly, your back arches at a sharp angle off the mattress and your head tips back against the pillow. A feral moan rips from your throat as you toss yourself over the edge, spiraling head first into your orgasm. Feeling your muscles spasm around his thick shaft, his thrusts become uneven, breaking the prior pattern he’d kept before. Clinging on to each wave of your climax as they crash over you, his labored breathing rings in your ears. Peeking your eyelids open as you feel yourself beginning to come down from you high, there was nothing in this world that was going to make you miss watching him come unraveled. 

As his hips jerk back and forth, he presses harder and longer into you with each stroke. Finally feeling his cock begin to twitch deep in your core, he thrusts inward one last time before holding his body flush against your own. The arm planted beside your head buckles as he leans down onto his elbows. His face buried into the side of your neck, as a guttural moan shreds the quiet ambience of the room. “Hhhhggnn-AUUUHHgggggnnnnn!!! Auugghnnn! Mmmggghhnnn…. Fuck! Fuck!” Each hard jerk of his shaft accompanied with a lewd groan from his lips as he spilled himself inside of you. Immediate warmth coating every inch of your walls, as he unloaded. Struggling to keep enough air in his lungs, his hips rut against your body as his spasms become less frequent and further apart. Combing your fingers through his hair, soothing him as he began to come down from his climax, sweat collects along the ridge of his spine. 

As several minutes pass, he still remains buried deep inside of you. Looking up through sweat laced bangs, he offers a blissful smile. I literally cannot believe that just happened… am I dreaming? Nope. I asked myself that question before. I’m definitely awake. And he’s definitely right here. And… he’s definitely starting to get heavy-- Shifting yourself underneath him, he chuckles softly as a slightly apologetic expression takes over his sharp features. Looking down, he slowly pulls himself out. Hissing and taking his bottom lip between his teeth, as the slight friction faults a shiver down his spine, he flops to the sheets beside you. With your thighs slightly aching, your sit yourself up. Momentarily lightheaded, but still feeling the rush of the euphoria, you blindly grab at the edge of the covers. Tugging them up and over both of you, and adjusting your position to face him, you lay back down, tucking an arm underneath your head. Gazing at his stunning features, as he lay with his eyes closed, you lift yourself and lean towards him, placing a soft kiss to his forehead. Without bothering to open his eyes, his hand searches for your own. Entangling his fingers into yours once he finally did, he brings your hand up and presses his lips to back of your palm, refusing to let your hand go. Settling back into place, unsure if anything more should be said nor if anything more even needed to, considering how cryptic and quiet of a person he turned out to be, you simply whisper, “....wow.” No response, except for the soft purring of his slumber. 

[peterthepark]

crush culture - [four]

party tattoos

pairing: steve harrington x reader (university & modern!AU)

summary: gold dresses, unspoken kisses, and impulsive decision making are always good starts to the new year.

warnings: strong language, uses of social media & alcohol, pure utter fluff fluff fluff, kissing, mentions of tattoos, bad dancing?

a/n: inspired by party tattoos by dodie :) sorry it’s taken me so long to update. this chapter isn’t long, considering i haven’t been active for some time. but the next chapter makes up for it! thanks for ur patience everyone!

Shelves line up Steve’s peripherals as he pushes the shopping cart. The rolling wheels squeak loudly beneath him while you hum and coo at the quirky party decorations that embellished the aisles. Having never hosted a celebration at your own place before, you had decided to entrust in Steve and his experience with parties to help you out.

Robin and Kate wanted a golden theme for the party, both of them being shockingly specific about the type of decorations you should buy, while they prepare the food and drinks. And now here you are, sitting cross-legged in a shopping cart as Steve hand a pack of gold solo cups to you. You pile it into the rest of the decor: paper plates, those little flag thingies you hang up on walls, white and black balloons, and of course, sparklers that would certainly be Instagram-worthy.

“How ‘bout these, Y/N?” Steve snickers, placing an oversized frame of glasses on his face. With a lopsided grin, he does a playful spin for you. You flick the glasses off his nose, laughing at him as he feigns a look of offense. “Hey! Chill!”

“We’re supposed to be shopping, not messing around, you idiot.” You scoff at him, quirking a brow as he puts the glasses back on the shelf. His hand subconsciously moves to rest on top of yours on the bar of the car; the gesture comes to you easily, and you don’t seem to mind the way his thumb runs over your knuckles.

“Okay, so what’s next on the list?”

-

The kiss hadn’t been brought up.

Not even once.

And you honestly think that maybe you must’ve dreamt it, seeing as Steve seemed to act like it hadn’t happened it.

The morning after said incident, you awoke to an empty bed and the familiar smell of freshly-brewed coffee. Steve was in the kitchen, speaking to Jonathan in a hushed voice. You didn’t care to eavesdrop, knowing that the conversation seemed to be none of your business. But Steve began acting differently towards you after that. He seemed more open, more comfortable, and happier around you. Yet, no one had the guts to bring up the late-night kiss.

“Steve, is this straight? Does this look straight to you?” You whine, glancing down at him with a frustration expression. The chair wobbles as you lean further to tape the hanging decorations to the wall, and Steve is quick to keep the chair still, not wanting you to fall and hurt yourself. “Does it look okay?”

“Y/N, it looks fine, but you’ve gotta be careful. You’re literally gonna fall.” He says in exasperation, gripping your hand to help you down.

“I just want this to look good. I’ve got King Steve here himself, I’m sure he knows what a good party looks like.” You tease, biting your lip.

Steve cringes at the thought of you knowing about his whole King Steve phase, and he ruffles his hair sheepishly at the smirk on your face. “Okay, who told you about that? Was it Jonathan? Like I know I was a complete dick back then, but man-“

“No, silly. Robin told me. I didn’t know you were such a playboy.” You walk past him, chuckling as he follows after you into the living room. “So, are you gonna tell me all about your whole high school experience or what?” You purr, arranging the fairy lights for the DIY photo booth that you made together.

Steve huffs, hesitant to even tell you about the person he was in high school. “I was such a dumbass back then. You don’t even want to know, Y/N.” He groans, kicking his feet atop of the coffee table.

“You’re also a dumbass now. We were all shitty people in high school, trust me.”

“Oh, really? Do tell.” He probes, leaning forward on his elbows.

“I fucked my chemistry teacher.” You reply nonchalantly, earning a sputtering cough and a loud exclamation of really?! from Steve. “I’m kidding! It’s a joke! I did get into a lot of rumor and drama shit, so I guess my high school life wasn’t as perfect as I try to make it out to be.”

Steve lets out a breath of relief. It’s not that there was anything wrong with you possibly screwing your chemistry teacher, it’s just... he honestly wouldn’t expect it from a sweetheart like you. Then again, sweethearts sometimes have hidden agendas.

He starts to look at the way your jeans hug your thighs and then his eyes skim over the expanse of your hips...

Fuck, dude. Not cool.

“Steve? Did you hear what I just said?”

“Huh?” You laugh at him, rolling your eyes at his dumbfounded stare. He shifts awkwardly on the sofa, and he’s praying that you didn’t see the way he was totally ogling you. Which you did.

He’d be in a treat for later then, because the dress you were planning on wearing was definitely far from anything he’s seen on you wear.

“I said, you should go rest before the party. It doesn’t start till like nine, and it’s only five right now. Maybe you’d want to take a nap or - or get ready or something - I don’t know.” You ramble shyly, setting out a couple bottles of champagne and wine. You look over to him, nearly knocking over the bottles when he licks his lips. Instinctively, he catches the bottle before it rolls onto the ground, blushing alongside you as your hands come in contact with each other.

“You tryin’ to get rid of me already, Y/N?” He smiles, pulling his hand away.

“I’m tryin’ to give you a break before we get blind drunk at this party. Take it or leave it, Harrington.” You nudge his shoulder, sharing a lingering gaze with him before you actually make him go home. “O-okay, for real though, go.”

“Alright! Alright!” He raises his hands up, hesitantly making his way towards the door. “Do I have to?” He turns, before you seriously shoo him away. “Okay, bye. I’ll see you later... Y/N.”

He winks teasingly, then he’s out of your apartment.

You sigh dreamily.

You love it when he says your name.

-

“It’s just tequila. Y/N, please, c’mon, do it with me!” Robin cackles, shaking your shoulders. The walls of your apartment rumbled as the speakers played music, blasting out throwbacks and current songs alike. Robin had dragged you to the island in the kitchen, expertly lining up half-filled shotglasses on the counter. She bounces on her toes, clasping her hands together as she begs you to take shots with her. “Please! Just this once!”

“Dude, the last time I drank tequila, I lost all control. Do you not remember how wild we got? I’m not putting myself through that again. I swear - Ro, there’s no way-“

Interrupted, Robin bursts into a gasp, spotting a familiar face from the front door. “Steve! Steve!”

She runs out to pull the chestnut-haired boy into the kitchen, holding him by the shoulders as she drags him towards you. His jaw drops slightly when he sees the gold dress hugging your body, and you don’t hesitate to greet him with a grin.

“If Steve takes a tequila shot, will you do it?”

Steve’s face breaks into a smile at Robin’s question, and he gestures at the shotglasses with raised brows. “I can’t say no to that offer. Y/N?”

You take a moment to stare at Steve, recognizing the mischievous glint in his eyes that ultimately causes you to give in.

“Ugh, okay. Yeah. Fine. Tequila.” You wave your hands about, pacing in your heels before you courageously down a shot with Steve. You both groan at the taste, screwing your eyes shut as it burns at your throat and tongue. “Bleh! Ugh, I already feel drunk.”

“Just two more shots.” Steve insists, placing his hand on your arm. He dips his head down to look at you.

“You know what? Who’s to say we were done anyways?” You smirk at him, before you hold out a shot glass for him to drink out of. You unknowingly part your lips as he grips onto your wrist to down the drink, gently pulling your arm away when he’s finished. He wipes his mouth, hissing at the spicy kick.

Parties were boring. Unless you’re blind drunk.

And in this case, parties were fun.

Because well, you’re blind drunk.

The flash of the camera goes off as Kate pulls you into her chest, squishing your cheeks together while Robin comes up behind to sandwich you between them. Classmates and mutual friends alike pile into your shared apartment, easily making conversation or dancing to the music in the living room. The sway of your hips is enough to show the liquid courage that was running through your body as you made your way over to Steve, holding onto his hand to pull him into the makeshift photo booth.

“What are you doing?” He drawls out, raising his eyebrows at you as you stand next to him in front of the backdrop. “Y/N, I look like a mess-“

“You’re hot, Steve. You need to chill out.” You slur, slinging your arm around him as Kate starts taking pictures.

And in the meantime, Steve knows how idiotic he looks in those pictures - mouth open, eyes wide and lips pulling into a smirk as he realizes that you just called him hot. He tries to ignore the way that your face feels against his face as you embrace him tightly and hold up a peace sign.

“Y/N?” Steve asks over the music, nearly shouting. “You look beautiful!”

Your gold dress glimmers under the disco ball that hangs from the ceiling fan, and you forget everything else around you as Steve’s eyes slowly drift down the length of your legs and heels.

“Thanks, Steve.” You reply, blinking up at him hazily. He hesitates for a moment, stepping closer towards you, before Robin quickly whisks you away towards another area of the apartment.

You glance behind you, meeting Steve’s eyes in the growing crowd of people. He raises a glass of beer at you, before he completely disappears in the sea of the party.

“No way. Absolutely no.” Kate groans, clasping her hand over her mouth as her gaze follows yours. “You brought a tattoo artist to the party?”

“More like I paid her to come.” Robin whispers, scratching guiltily at her head. “What? She’s hot! I just - I don’t know she seemed really nice and really sweet and yeah, cute. C’mon, K.” You shake your head at Robin with a smile, taking her hand in yours before giving it a squeeze. “You said you’ve always wanted a tattoo, Y/N?”

“I mean... yes, but... I’m also very drunk right now.” You laugh, rubbing your arms. Robin’s black lipstick tugs up at the corners, and she raises her brows at you with suggestion. “What would I even get?”

The buzzing needle pricks against your skin painfully. You hiss as Gemma puts pressure on your wrist, black ink forming words as she goes on. You shut your eyes, already regretting your decision as you tune out her comforting coos. Kate records you on Snapchat, while Robin laughs drunkenly in the background and praises Gemma for her work.

When she’s finished, you examine the plastic wrap around your wrist, fingertips hovering over the black words as you gasp in awe at it. Kate and Robin gush over it, and you start to become aware of the permanent decision you had just made.

Always indecisive.

Always impulsive.

But never unsure about your feelings for people.

Especially Steve.

After taking a few more drinks to numb the dull pain on your arm, you moved towards the balcony. You step out onto the glass-fenced terrace, shutting the sliding door behind you. Steve turns to glance at you, smile turning into an amazed laugh as you show him the state of your newly-tatted wrist.

“Oh, my god. You did not.” He huffs with unbelief, holding onto your hand as he looks it over. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Only insane when I’m drunk.” You chuckle, shifting from one foot to the other before you put your arms on top of the fence. “Do you have any tattoos?”

“No. No, definitely not.” He answers quickly, waving you off.

“Ooo, I don’t know, Steve. Sounds a little bit like a lie to me.” You push his elbow with yours, burying your nose against your shoulder as you look up at him coyly.

“Okay, maybe I do. But I’m not proud of it. It’s a terrible tattoo, I got it when I was in high school and it’s - it’s stupid.”

“Oh, now you’ve got to show me!” You gasp, pulling on the sleeve of his top as he groans at you. You beg him, promising not to make fun of him in any way shape or form - no matter how stupid the tattoo could’ve been.

So, he preps you a little bit. You mainly think he’s stalling but he claims that he’s just preparing you for the worst. He’s trying to explain himself, yet honestly, you can only hone in on the way he gives you a blushing smile, all while using hand gestures to make light of his point. Fed up, you interrupt him, telling him you don’t quite need an explanation to whatever his damn tattoo even is.

He sighs at you, slumping over jokingly before he decides to untuck his top and tug down the waitband of his jeans to reveal the ink on his hipbone. The tattoo isn’t as bad as you had thought it would be. Steve was simply just overreacting, and maybe self-conscious at the fact that you’d be seeing such a tattoo on him.

“It’s not as terrible as you make it out to be, Steve.” You smirk, leaning over to look at the tattoo on his hipbone.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.”

“I’m serious! It’s pretty cute.”

The black-inked heart with an arrow through it sits prettily on his fair, flushed skin. It was far from embarrassing, and it was far from a horrible design. You weren’t lying when you said it was cute. It seemed actually... endearing, to have a gentleman like Steve have such a soft-meaningful tattoo in a place where no one could really see it.

“Does it mean anything?” You tilt your head at him, chewing on your lip as he thinks over your question.

“I dunno. Guess I’ve... I don’t know, I guess I’ve always been a - a hopeless romantic? Do those even exist?” He asks aloud, running his clammy palms over his denim-clad thighs. He shrugs, “I’ve always - I’ve always been a little too crazy for love, so whatever, so... it’s a - a fitting tattoo for me, I suppose.” He stares off into the city line, eyes twinkling when he shifts his attention to you. “And what about yours? Any meaning?”

“It’s... it’s open to a lot of things.” You nod.

The words SEE YOU SOON are red with soreness on your skin, healing under the plastic wrap as you carefully let Steve trace over it with his thumb. You can feel his breath against your collarbone as he mindlessly bumps his arm against yours.

“See you soon?”

“I like to think that... people who are - who are meant to be in your life - but leave for whatever reason - are always meant to find a way back to you. It’s just... a lot of people come and go. Especially now. It’d be nice to find a person who’ll stay one day.”

“Deep.” He mumbles, earning a laugh from you. You don’t fail to realize that his hand has slipped into yours, and he holds it over the railing as the chilly Chicago air bites at your skin. “I hope that you’ll find someone who’s willing to stay, Y/N.”

You feel his eyes on you, and without hesitation, you turn your face to look at him. His cheeks are reddened, his cheekbones are accentuated under the moonlight and bright stars, but your more drawn to the way his lips pout together.

“And I hope you find someone who’s just as crazy about love as you are, Steve.” You smile.

He’s about to say something, to ask you a question that he had been longing to ask you for so, so long. But the cheers and drunken chants from the inside call you both back to the living room. The flatscreen TV broadcasts the Ball Drop from NYC, showing the masses of people that had gathered to celebrate the new year. Guests clink their glasses with one another as the countdown hits at the twenty-second mark, and you feel the heightened adrenaline of having a new year approach. Kate and Robin manage to find you, snapping last minute 2019 polaroids in the span of 10 seconds.

“Robin, kiss me!” Kate cackles jokingly, pulling Robin into a rib-crushing hug as they jump around in excitement. You laugh at them, taking your phone to record the moment around you as people begin to count the last few seconds.

Five...

You tuck your phone back into your bag, crossing it over your body as you wrap your arms around your front.

Four...

Steve mimics your posture, but he can’t help but look over at you, waiting for you to pick up on what he was very subtly trying to suggest.

Three...

“Y/N?”

Fuck it.

“Yeah?”

“About that kiss... on - on the night we went ice skating...” He scratches his neck, rambling. “I really - really enjoyed it. And you. Spending time with you.”

“Yeah, me too. I... I had lots of fun and I’m glad that you brought it up because well, I wasn’t sure if I had messed up or something since you weren’t talking about it.”

“Oh! Oh, trust me, you - you did everything perfect.”

Two...

“I did?”

“Yeah, of course. But... but I wanted to ask if... I don’t know if ice-skating counts as a - as a first date but...” He swallows nervously. “Would you like to go on a date with me? Like a real one?”

One...

You step forwards on your heels, cupping Steve’s cheeks in your hands as you kiss him intensely. Your fingers brush over his jaw, and his hands come to rest on the small of your back as he brings you further against him. Party poppers and confetti erupt through the apartment as the clock hits midnight, and you force yourself to pull away from Steve’s lips.

“I’m available next weekend.” You utter, catching your breath.

“Huh?” Steve replies with shaky hands.

You giggle at that, touching his arm. “I meant that I’m available next weekend for our date. If you want to go around that time.” You say to him with blushing cheeks, but never break eye contact.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, me too. I’ll pick you up again. Or we can meet there, whatever you’d prefer.” He smacks his lips together, unintentionally tasting your fruity lipgloss.

“Just text me. And we can plan from there.” You nod, pulling your hand away from him. Before he can say anything else that would embarrass him, Steve excused himself to go make conversation with Jonathan, who seems to have turned up with a few old friends from his hometown.

But at the same time, he couldn’t really focus when all he can see is you across the room, talking animatedly with your gold dress and your high heels and your captivating smile.

And those eyes.

The way you look at him.

The way you give him your undivided attention.

It drives him a bit crazy.

Steve swore that you were just another crush - just another girl who he’d try to get by and probably break up with in the following week after officiating things. But no. You had completely caused him to take a full 360, like literally: when you had hit him with your car, when you offered to bring him coffee, when you said yes to ice skating. He was already entranced by you.

It was supposed to be a crush.

Only a crush.

Nothing more.

But here he was - already falling in love, and he hasn’t even taken out on a proper date.

New year, new beginnings, right?

[timextoxhajima]

Hae Young dragged herself across the boardwalk, the bright lights blinding her. She had just been dumped by her ex, Jimin, and Taehyung being the boy who picked on her a lot at school, had found her in the bar drinking alone, and it took him awhile to get her out of that blasted place onto an open space by the river.

"How did you get in? You're 16, not 18." Taehyung rolled his eyes, following her. 

"It’s called…being smart." Hae Young burped, almost vomiting. 

"You need to get back to the dorms you know." Taehyung stuffed his hands into his pocket, watching her figure twist and turn in that black skin tight dress of hers. Why was she even dressed this way?

 "Anniyo! It's off school terms! I can stay out, as late as I... want." She sniffled, rushing over to the railing as she wretched. 

"Seriously, I'm sending you back. Come on." Taehyung rolled his eyes, wrapping his arm around her waist and yanking her away from the railings. 

"Let go! Jesus, I don't need your help." Hae Young screamed, ripping his arm off her waist as she trudged away in her slick black heels.

But Taehyung couldn't lie, she looked incredibly seductive like this. But he was snapped out of his thoughts when his eyes caught her ankle giving up on her. He rushed over just in time to catch her waist, her groggy eyes staring into his. It was then that he realised she had been crying that her eyes were puffy even under the thick layer of foundation. 

"Come on." He mumbled, grabbing her arm to put over his shoulder. He bent down and took her heels off, her height literally reducing by almost 5 inches. 

"Where do you women find heels like-" 

"Jimin oppa! Waeyo! Why did you leave me?" She suddenly screamed, crying to herself.

"Seriously." He groaned. He held up the heels for her to take as he got in front of her and pulled her up onto his back. She whined and sobbed into his jacket, the heels of her shoes occasionally hitting his side. He got her into his chauffeur’s car, the driver speeding off in the way of their dorms. She stopped crying and fell asleep, her head slowly reaching his shoulder as her arms found his, hugging his thick arm. Taehyung sighed, his head hitting the back of the seat. It wasn't long before they reached, and Taehyung gently woke Hae Young up. 

"We're here. Come on." He got out of the car and opened the door on her side, gently pulling her out as he thanked the driver.

"Which block is your dorm?" 

"J. J for Jiminnie oppa." She spoke, her arm around his shoulders. He dragged her to the dorm, the school clock hitting 1am, the soft ringing echoing through out the streets of the dorm blocks. 

"You need to go in yourself." Taehyung halted at the entrance of the J block, looking at her whose head hung low. 

"No, don't go in from here... go in from the back." She whispered, pulling Taehyung along. They reached a simple white door at the back, Hae Young taking a Bobby pin out and easily unlocking the door. She dropped in, pulling Taehyung in too. 

"I can't go into a girl's block! I'll be dead if I'm found out!" He loudly whispered as they reached the lift. 

"Shut up will you? You're so annoying ugh." She snapped, flinging her hair onto one shoulder. Taehyung could only roll his eyes, folded his arms and waited for the lift door to open. But once it opened, Hae Young dragged him in too.

"Yah! Are you mad?" Taehyung retorted, watching her bang her head against the wall of the lift. He sighed, putting his hand in between so that she wouldn't have a bruise tomorrow morning. 

The door dinged open on the 8th floor, only one room located very luxuriously in the corner. 

"Wow, you get this entire level to yourself?" Taehyung raised a brow, looking at the bronze door. 

"This is a what happens… when you're in the top 1% of the entire school population... and your parents are a bunch of rich asses. You get a suite all to yourself!" She laughed, fumbling in her clutch for her room card. She slid it in with a click and the door opened to reveal a beautiful golden rose-coloured living room.

"Oh, wow geez. I wonder how much your parents pay for this suite." 

"They don't. It’s on a scholarship. They just gave me this room because they knew my parents were bigshots in New York." Hae Young dumped her purse on the sofa, dropping onto the soft cushion that contrasted with her black dress. 

"You were on a scholarship?" Taehyung raised a brow.

"I'm on a scholarship, got top 1% in this blasted academy, and because my parents are bigshots, they give me a suite." Hae Young threw her heels into the shoe cupboard, a dozen other peeking out. 

"You should really organise your stuff." Taehyung muttered, watching her struggle to pull the zip on the back of her dress. His heart picked up, realizing she was really pretty, and sexy. 

"Taehyung, help me." She whined, holding up her hair for him to reach the zip. He bit on his bottom lip, slowly pulling down the zip. 

She squirmed under his touch as her milky skin showed out under the fabric, something began to crawl into Taehyung's desire. Taehyung yanked it all the way to the bottom, the rim of her black underwear showing. She then stood up and let the dress fall to her feet, leaving her only in her matching black lingerie. 

"Tell me, Taehyung. Why would a boy break up with me for no reason?" Hae Young whispered, crawling towards Taehyung whose eyes were large. The question caught Taehyung off guard, because truthfully speaking, he wouldn't know why anybody would break up with her. She's pretty, she's nice, smart and witty, he couldn't find a flaw. 

"Answer me." She was now sitting on his crotch, her cleavage right under his nose.

"I don't know, Hae Young. I don't. You're pretty, you’re kind, you're smart, only an idiot would dump you." He stared into her brown eyes. Then, they kissed.

Taehyung shut his eyes, feeling his first kiss get stolen by her. What he doesn’t know was that this was her first kiss too, because Jimin never let any skin ship happen other than holding hands. 

Her hands travelled up to his neck while his hands found her bare back. 

"Did I tell you that you were hot since day 1?" Taehyung breathed, caressing her back. 

"No, because you were too busy picking on me." Hae Young moaned, his tongue sliding across her bottom lip. 

"I'm sorry for that." Taehyung sighed, unbuckling her bra despite it being his first time. 

"Don't be." She whispered, her hand running through his thick brown locks. He stood up, her legs wrapped around his waist as their lips never left each other's. He pushed the door open to her room, the dark maroon walls contrasting with outside.

Taehyung laid her down on her bed, her arms covering her breasts. Taehyung leaned down again and kissed her sweetly, his hands finding hers and interlocking with them, pinning them above her head. 

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" Taehyung smirked, watching her squirm under him. His tongue darted out, hungrily sucking on her breasts like a baby. She gasped from the pleasure that shot out throughout her, his warm tongue playing with her nipples so sensually. 

"I'm a virgin too, by the way." Taehyung laughed, embarrassed, before making a mark on her breast.

"You are joking." She retorted, her wrists still in his grasp. 

"I'm not. Really. I haven't had a girlfriend before, much less have sex." He breathed, getting rid of his shirt and pants before crashing onto her again, his fingers hooking on her underwear and dragging it down. 

"Hurry up, Tae. I can't..." Hae Young sighed into the kiss, feeling his fingers play with her folds. She was already so wet, but she wasn't anywhere near ready to lose her virginity.

"Why are you so eager? Female virgins aren't so eager though?" Taehyung smirked, dipping his tongue into her core, allowing her to feel something she never knew existed. 

"Shit Taehyung-" Her voice choked in her throat, her back arching as Taehyung held her wrists down.

She felt him pull away, and look at her dearly before she grabbed him arm and dragged him onto the bed, pushing him against the mattress and kissing his light abs. 

He shut his eyes in pleasure, feeling her breath dribble down to his crotch where his bulge was significant. Hae Young pulled down his boxers and out sprang his member. Delighted and surprised at the same time, she took it in her mouth without hesitation, her tongue playing with his head even inside her mouth. 

"Oh fuck, Hae Young. You don't feel like a virgin." Taehyung groaned, thrusting his hips upwards that his head hit the back of her throat. He wasn't going to last long, and his target wasn't to come in her mouth, it was inside her.

"Is your period coming or just over?" He spoke normally as her mouth popped off of his dick.

"Just over." She whispered, crawling towards his face and kissing him lightly. 

"Good." He muttered, tasting himself from her tongue. He gently pushed her down onto his member, feeling her walls expand around his dick. 

She gasped lightly, burying her face into his collarbone. She whined and whimpered over him, the tip of his member going so deep in, she couldn't form words in her head. So this was what losing your virginity felt like. It was painful, she had to admit, but it felt blissful. 

"Are you okay?" He whispered, pushing her hair off her face. She grimly nodded, asking him to move. He slowly and agonisingly pulled out, only to slam back all the way in, it felt like it was already the end of her vagina. 

He began ramming in and out ruthlessly, the pleasure only replacing the pain as the both of them became a moaning mess. At that point, Taehyung hit that very spot in her, causing a knot to form in her stomach. 

"Shit, Taehyung. There." She moaned, her arms around his neck. As if he new exactly where it was, he hit that same spot at least 6 times in the next 5 seconds and there they were, screaming each other’s names as their liquids mixed. Taehyung slowly rode out his orgasm before pulling out, the white liquid pouring out of her. She laid on the bed, tired and exhausted. He pulled the blanket over her, and tucked her hair behind her ear as she drifted off to sleep. As he reached over to turn off the light, a photo of her and boy stared at him and on it labelled "Hae and Jimin". Taehyung looked at it for a while before gently laying it down, the photo facing downwards. 

- Excerpt from Tomorrow, Chapter 1

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (1)(Branjie/Scyvie)- Ortega

a/n: in all seriousness could whoever deleted this not just send me anon hate or something similar like a normal fucking person? this was wildly inconvenient to go through and re-italicise all over again xo

Trigger Warning: mentions of alcohol, drug use, and a graphic description of vomit. lovely.

Summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

***

Brooke wished her friends were the type of girls who all got up early, went for a run and then grabbed a granola-and-pastries brunch in a cute, kitchy cafe somewhere before their tutorials.

Instead, she found herself woken at 11am with a pounding headache, nausea swirling through her stomach, and a piercing buzz from her flat’s intercom system ringing through the hallways. Groaning, she lay back and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping and praying that one of the other girls would answer. To her anguish, the noise came again.

“Fuck,” she sighed, the sheer action of rolling over in bed making her want to throw up as she grabbed her dressing gown, trudged to her door and then into the hallway the size of a shoebox to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Delivery,” came the crackly voice on the other end of the phone. Brooke frowned.

“We didn’t order a-”

“Yes we did,” a voice hissed, as the loud click of a fire door echoed through the hallway and a guilty-looking face with last night’s makeup smudged all over it peered round the door.

Brooke’s speech caught in her throat. Shaking her head, she spoke again. “Yeah, send it up.”

Rolling her eyes as her flatmate slunk out of her room, Brooke fixed her with a stare. “Yvie, I’m going to fucking drown you in your large Fanta, you know that, right?”

“Ugh, what a beautiful way to die,” the other girl drawled, her vocal fry even more pronounced than usual as her dry, cracked vocal cords suffered under the effects of way too much alcohol (and what could have been a hit of the bong when they got home- Brooke couldn’t remember). Yvie was draped in a hoodie that was two sizes too big for her but still didn’t cover the fact that she’d neglected to put on any pyjama pants and was about to answer the door to the UberEats driver in her underwear. Shaking her head, Brooke pushed open the door to the kitchen and was immediately hit with a backdraught of eldritch fumes- the combination of her wine, Yvie’s rum and Nina’s gin from last night’s predrinks knocked her for six and immediately had her running to the bathroom and wrenching the lid of the toilet bowl open. As she fell to the ground and immediately started spewing up inexplicably orange foam, she could hear the delivery driver arriving and Yvie taking her food. Trying to control the nausea, Brooke took a deep, shuddery, fragile breath in through her nose.

“That is grim,” came Yvie’s voice from the doorframe. “Are you suffering, boo?”

Brooke narrowed her eyes, but didn’t turn round from her position on the floor. “No, not at all! I’m fresh as a fucking daisy, bitch! Ready for round two! Get pouring the Sauvignon-”

Unfortunately, she cut herself off with another round of bile that shot itself out of her mouth. Brooke could tell Yvie was rolling her eyes and she hadn’t even turned around.

“I bought two twenty nug boxes, but I won’t eat them all. I’ll be on the sofa with them when you’re ready.”

Brooke gasped and shuddered, wiping her mouth, standing up shakily and finally flushing all the evidence of her rough night of drinking away. She tottered to the sink and looked at herself in the mirror, horrified by the mess of a reflection staring back at her. She’d managed to get herself into her pyjamas when she’d got home but had piled all of her hair on top of her head like a blonde birds’ nest and secured it haphazardly with a single hairtie, making it stick out from all different angles. She’d got most of her makeup off but a good amount of her eyeliner and shadow still remained, and the dark pink liquid lipstick she’d been wearing had left a ring of colour around the outside of her lips. She frowned as she lifted one arm and saw a set of three scratches, like fingernails, going from her elbow down to her wrist. Brooke had less than zero recollection of how they’d got there.

Reaching for her toothbrush, she squeezed entirely too much toothpaste onto the head, ran it under the tap, then scrubbed harshly at her teeth like she was scrubbing barnacles off a big rock. There weren’t many positives to a hangover, but the feeling of brushing her teeth the morning after a night out was like heaven to Brooke. It got rid of a multitude of sins and left her one step closer to feeling like an actual human again.

Finally ready for social interaction, she went back into their kitchen-slash-living room, the stench of the alcohol not making her want to completely die this time around. There, she found Yvie curled up on the green couch under the not-quite-clean, not-quite-dirty blanket that had been there when they’d moved in and hadn’t been washed since. She was watching something that she’d stuck on TV and was munching at a cheeseburger with a grim determination. Brooke threw herself down onto the battered old armchair beside her and peered into the cavernous McDonalds’ bag.

“Nugs?”

Yvie reached into another bag beside her and produced a rectangular box. “Nugs.”    

As Brooke took the box from her and ripped it open, Yvie pulled a doe-eyed face and simpered. “Maybe nugs will be our always.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Brooke laughed through a mouthful of chicken nugget. She cast a glance to the wall behind them and frowned. “Is Nina alive?”

Yvie shrugged. “Doubt it.”

Panic rose up in Brooke’s body, which Yvie clearly sensed. “Bitch. She got home fine, don’t worry. She got an Uber with me and Scarlet. I’m literally amazed she was still standing. She was drinking gin here, then had some of Akeria’s wine when we got to theirs and then she was drinking God knows what else in the club. Beer, vodka, I’m sure I saw her with tequila at some point. Always the quiet ones.”

“Nina, quiet?” Brooke laughed, Yvie joining in loudly. Brooke cast her flatmate a sideways glance. “So you and Scarlet took Nina back?”

Yvie kept her eyes trained firmly on the TV screen. “Yeah, well we ordered the Uber to here and dropped Scarlet off on the way. Just to make sure she got home safe.”

Brooke nodded noncommittally and watched with interest as Yvie continued to look at the screen, then lifted her phone from the arm of the sofa and checked the group chat. Brooke decided to say nothing. “What are we watching?”

“Coronation Street,” Yvie deadpanned, Brooke groaning as the other girl howled another laugh.

“Turn it off, Yvie, I’m serious. My brain can’t take much more. Why are you literally fuckin’ 40 years old?”

As Yvie continued to laugh, Brooke’s phone pinged loudly.

Kim Kardashian-West: Is anyone alive????????????????

Brooke snorted. Yvie was typing quickly, her long nails tapping against the screen.

Dave the Laugh: we’re next door come thru

Mere seconds later, there was a noise from out in the hallway, the bang of a fire door, and then the shuffling appearance of a hungover flatmate wrapped in her duvet and looking entirely too much like the Caterpillar from A Bug’s Life.

“Helloo,” Nina said quietly, in a voice that was eerily similar to Robin Williams as Mrs Doubtfire.

“When did you wake up? I had to answer the door for Yvie’s fucking McDonalds order,” Brooke frowned affectionately, then handed the box of nuggets to her other flatmate who had sank down on the sofa beside Yvie and had stretched her legs out over her lap.

“Nah, I woke up then too. I was just hoping someone else would get the door before me,” she shrugged, one hand reaching for a chicken nugget and the other hand pushing back her huge mane of wild blonde hair, her dark roots sticking up and suffering from serious bedhead.

Yvie pouted. “Ninaaa, you’re meant to be the responsible one.”

Nina snorted, sat up straight, folded her arms, and did her best Hell’s Kitchen contestant impersonation that Brooke and Yvie always loved. “Yeah, but I’m not no bitch!”

As the girls laughed, Brooke had to wonder how they got there- three friends, once all nervous, eager, bright-eyed first years now fully evolved into hardened, exhausted third years (or, as Yvie sometimes described them, war vets). Nothing much had changed in that time, she supposed. They still all lived together, except now they had moved into a flat instead of the student halls they’d all lived in back in first year- Brooke in the room opposite Nina, and Yvie in the block beside theirs. Miraculously, none of them had dropped out of their degrees and they were still all studying the same things. Nina had been glad of a night out as a break from her relentless teaching placement in a nearby primary school, Yvie was keen to celebrate a good mark on her criminology hand-in that she’d had back, and Brooke was just happy for a night out with her friends as her portfolio wasn’t due for another month. She was still in denial about how little time that actually was to get three prototypes ready, so she’d been glad of a break. Torn out of her own thoughts, Brooke’s phone went off again.

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: BITCH WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED LAST NIGHT

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: I GOT A BOY FROM THE RUGBY TEAM IN MY BED HE WON’T LEAVE

“Of course you do,” came Yvie’s unimpressed voice from the sofa. Brooke raised an eyebrow as Nina frowned and thumped Yvie with a couch cushion. The other girl flinched in surprise. “Ow! Bitch!”

“Play nice,” Nina scowled at her, judging.

“Do you use that as a behaviour management technique?” Brooke quipped dryly. Nina scrunched up her face and waved a hand dismissively.

“No. It’s Year 6 I teach, remember? I just hack their bodies to bits with a chainsaw I keep in the desk drawer,” she said sarcastically, Yvie barking out a laugh. Nina continued. “The class teacher’s very supportive.”

Plastique Bague: He is definitely not in the rugby team

Plastique Bague: He definitely said that so you would sleep with him

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: I MEAN

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: she was gonna sleep with him either way let’s not lie!!!!!

Brooke’s heart gave a small leap. Okay. Vanessa was up. She was on the chat. This was fine. Was it fine? Had Brooke said some horrendous, embarrassing thing to her last night that she shouldn’t have and she just couldn’t remember? No- it was fine. If she had, Nina or Yvie would have told her. Except, of course, if they couldn’t remember. Looking at the two girls deeply engrossed in the world of social media, she decided to find out. Tactfully of course.

“So…” Brooke began, Yvie’s head snapping up with intrigue. “Anyone do anything embarrassing last night?”

“That rugby player?” she said innocently, howling in pain as Nina’s ankle jolted up and kicked her thigh. “Ow, Jesus, Nina!”

“Aw, come on, give her that, Nina. Silky’s always doing cringey shit on a night out,” Brooke pouted sympathetically. She did love her friend, but the memory of Silky breaking her middle toe while trying to do a death drop in the middle of Levels still haunted her.

“I don’t think so. Everyone was pretty tame. At least, I think it was tame. I’m going to be blatantly honest- I can’t remember,” Nina continued, shrugging lightly.

“I think Vanjie went home with somebody,” Yvie said nonchalantly, her thumb flicking at her screen.

Brooke’s heart froze over in the space of a second. “Really?”

“No, I’m fucking with you,” Yvie chuckled an evil laugh, causing Brooke to break out in a scarlet blush and deflate with relief like a very red balloon.

Nina burst out laughing. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was mean. But it was funny. Funny sometimes outweighs mean.”

“I’m not speaking to either of you for the rest of my life,” Brooke sighed, wishing she could stop blushing.

“Bitch, you’d barely last a minute,” Yvie laughed, pouting as she looked at Brooke’s face. “Aww, don’t be embarrassed! It’s cute!”

“No, it’s idiotic. I’m behaving like a fucking teenager, it’s ridiculous.”

“Do you think you’ll tell her before we graduate?” Nina asked, batting her eyes. Brooke rolled hers.

“Of course I will! I’m just…I need to just know that she likes me back first.”

Brooke didn’t miss the look that passed between her other two flatmates. She didn’t know what it meant, and was too hungover to try to find out.

It wasn’t some dumb teenage crush, Brooke knew that, although at times she did sit in lectures and want to draw hearts and initials and Mrs Vanessa Hytes and Mrs Brooke Lynn Mateo all over her notebook. So what if the only thing stopping her from doing it was Plastique sitting beside her? They were adults, after all- although, being 21, Brooke hadn’t very much experience at the whole adulting thing- and Brooke would tell Vanessa everything eventually. It didn’t matter that she’d waited two years and three-and-a-bit months to do so. Brooke had had lots of practice of confessing her feelings to Vanessa because she did it most nights, just before she went to sleep. Every scenario was different- sometimes they were outside in the smoking area on a night out, sometimes she was round at Vanessa’s flat under a blanket and watching a film, sometimes they were drinking cider together in the park on a sunny evening. But every time, Brooke said the same thing- Vanessa, I need to just get this out there, and I’m sorry if it makes things weird but I (pause) just (pause)…really fucking like you. And I know we’re friends and I don’t want to fuck anything up, but I still remember that time after Akeria’s 19th when we walked home together in the dark and we got chips and you threw them over those guys that yelled at us from across the street and took my hand all protective and I’ve just been in my feelings about you since then, and I know that if I didn’t say it today I would never get the chance. So…yeah. That’s it. Sorry. If it ruins anything. Then Vanessa would reply back. Sometimes she’d launch into a big memory of exactly when she fell for Brooke. Sometimes there was no talking, just Vanessa’s hands on either side of her face and a fierce kiss that Brooke had imagined so much she’d almost dreamt it into reality. Sometimes, on some of Brooke’s not so great evenings, Vanessa would just wrinkle her nose up, furrow her brows, and just look at her, disgust seeping out of every pore and scaring Brooke so much she wouldn’t imagine the whole situation again for a couple of days. But she’d always come back to it, of course. Especially on days where Vanessa had given her a lot to work with- predrinks where she’d been extra giggly and flirty and touchy, dinners where she’d sat just the tiniest bit too close, huge sleepy pileups on Nina’s bed where she’s thrown herself over Brooke’s tummy and rested her head against her chest before gradually falling into a nap.

“Brooke! Would you put your damn phone on silent like a fucking normal person!”

Brooke jumped, Yvie’s frowning eyes trained on her and making her look at her phone, each new notification from the chat coming relentlessly. It had been moving at quite the pace since Brooke last checked it, and she had 21 unread messages.

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: VANJIE IM GONNA KILL U

Plastique Bague: AHAHAHAH VANJIE

Dave the Laugh: shut up Vanjie omg ahahaha

Kim Kardashian-West: Hahahahahahahahaha!!!

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: IF I DON’T KILL THIS SIX FOOT TALL BIGFOOT ASS SPICEBOY FIRST

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: lmfao Vanjie

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: MOOOOOOOOOOOOVE ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!

Kim Kardashian-West: Is he awake?

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: think the bitch fucked him to death

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: ILL FUCK U TO DEATH!!!!!!

Plastique Bague: You guys are killing me ahahahaa stop

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: we’re out of teabags

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: kill me dead

Plastique Bague: Rip in peace

Dave the Laugh: I got Mcdonaldssssss

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: shut the absolute fuck up

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: i’m coming over

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: hey is BrookeLynn awake???????????

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: I’m coming over to eat ya fries

Kim Kardashian-West: nah she died

Kim Kardashian-West: death by £4.99 tesco white zinfandel

“Let’s have the girls over,” Brooke said suddenly, her heart rising as she read the chat. Nina smiled.

“I’d be down!”

Yvie rolled her eyes. “Ugh, guys, we already have so much shit to clean up from last night, the living room smells like shit, and Brooke’s probably blocked the toilet from her radioactive fucking puke.”

Brooke pouted, already typing on the chat.

Cananana Canadada hey hey hey bingo: sorry guys, mum says no :(

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: BROOKLYNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!

(Vanessa used no less than sixteen sparkly heart emojis to accompany the message- Brooke counted.)

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Nina wtf u bitch

Nina audibly gasped. “Why is it that everyone thinks I’m the Mum of this friendship group?!”

“Because you are the Mum. You do Mum things. Like getting us to drink water in between drinks in the club,” Yvie said, shrugging.

Kim Kardashian-West: EXCUSE ME, THAT WAS YVIE!!!

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: YVIE SUCK A CAN OF DICKS

Plastique Bague: why is everyone shouting

Dave the Laugh: a can that’s inventive

Plastique Bague: i don’t like it when mum and dad fight

used Tampon: Guys!!!!! I just woke up! So many messages wtf!! Anyway are we all going round to Yvie’s or something???

Brooke choked a laugh. Slowly, she turned to look at her flatmate, who appeared to be pressing her lips together to stifle a smile and had gone a rather fetching shade of pink. Brooke looked at Nina, who snorted and immediately read her mind.

Kim Kardashian-West: sorry Scarlet, we’re not allowed to host :(

Cananana Canadada hey hey hey bingo: yeah Yvie says no :(

Kim Kardashian-West: too much mess from last night :((((((

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: HE’S FINALLY GONE THANK JESUS CARTWHEELING CHRIST

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: NOBODY CARES

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: BrookeLynn just have a revolution!!! it’s ur flat too!!!

Kim Kardashian-West: and me, who also lives here

“The fuck does she mean, it’s your flat too? Like I’m a fucking dictator? What the fuck is that?” Yvie snarled, typing angrily into the phone.

“Down, girl,” Nina joked, hitting her with her heel again.

Yvie slapped her calf in annoyance. “Bitch, you have the boniest foot ever!”

“It’s from all that extra cankle.”

“Guys, are we hosting or not?” Brooke yawned, bored. “We better decide soon because I think some people might be making other plans.”

Frowning, Yvie checked her phone and jumped, typing frantically when she saw the message that was there.

used Tampon: Aww, that sucks :( I guess I’ll drag my hungover self into the lib then

Dave the Laugh: FINE

Dave the Laugh: FINE

Dave the Laugh: ur all the fucking worst and u better be here in at least half an hour or all the food will be gone

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: GOD IS GOOD

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: WE LOV U YVIE!!!!!!!1

used Tampon: Yay!!!!! Love u Yvie xxxxxxxxx

Brooke stifled a laugh as she saw Yvie’s face break out in a small smile. Not willing to waste any more time, however, she decided she needed to get ready if Vanessa was going to be coming to the flat. She stood up, greatly misjudged how hungover she still was, then immediately sat back down again.

Twenty minutes later Brooke had showered, dressed, and even mustered the strength to put a small amount of makeup on. Her hair was still up in its nest and, tugging out the band that was holding it up, she ran her fingers through it and shook it out as she tried to tame it in some way. She growled as she couldn’t get her parting right, then frustratedly decided to leave it. Checking the clock, she strode through to the kitchen and opened the window up wide before she sank back down into her armchair. Yvie, who hadn’t moved, raised an eyebrow.

“Nice leggings,” she said, something coating her words that Brooke couldn’t quite decipher. She snapped her neck round to face her.

“What?”

Yvie snorted a little. “Nothing! I’m saying nothing.”

A pause.

“Were your hotpants in the wash?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Brooke laughed, grabbing the cushion off the back of the armchair and covering her face. Yvie’s evil laugh was back.

“Brooke, you do realise that Vanjie really fuckin’ likes you, right?” Yvie leaned forward, her voice loud and brash and not really making it much of a secret. Brooke blew a bit of hair out of her face.

“No, I didn’t realise! That’s only, what, the 36th time you’ve told me that?”

Yvie gave a long-suffering sigh. “I only keep saying it ‘cuz it’s true.”

Brooke pulled the collar of her cropped jumper over her mouth and sighed, hot air creeping over the skin underneath. “Just let me wear my running leggings that show my bum and my legs and will hopefully make the girl I’ve liked since first year fall in love with me in peace, okay?”

Just then, the buzzer went off loudly through the flat, Nina running from her room to get it and anticipation fluttering in the pit of Brooke’s stomach. Nina shouted through to the living room.

“It’s Scarlet!”

Brooke watched Yvie carefully as she lifted her phone and checked her reflection in the blank screen. It only took two minutes for Scarlet to arrive, panting and out of breath from climbing all the stairs to their top floor.

“Yvie!!” she exclaimed happily, falling forward to where Yvie sat and enveloping her in a huge hug. Scarlet was weighed down from her huge yellow raincoat, mittens and hat but Yvie didn’t seem to mind, pulling her onto the seat beside her and not yet letting go of her waist. Brooke watched the whole display, amused. She didn’t not like Scarlet, it’s just the whole reason she was in their friendship group was all because of Yvie, so she hadn’t really had a chance to connect or bond with the girl on her own yet. From what she did know of her, she found her ever so slightly grating- her constant picking and preening at her appearance, her dorky attitude, the way she typed- but Brooke didn’t dislike her. Besides, any friend of Yvie’s was a friend of hers and Yvie had met her last year when she’d gone to a pole dancing class for a grand total of three times before she rolled her ankle. She’d met Scarlet there, who was trying the class out but realised if she couldn’t dance full stop then dancing whilst on a pole would be a little trickier, so they had both stopped at the same time but had never stopped bumping into each other around campus and had gradually become friends. Brooke knew that to Yvie, Scarlet was a little more than just a friend- in fact she’d liken it to her friendship with Vanjie- but she had a desire to keep all her limbs functioning and firmly attached to her body, so she’d never brought it up with her. Watching them now, however, she supposed she didn’t really need to- Scarlet had rested her head on Yvie’s shoulder and her brown curls cascaded down the other girl’s chest as she talked about her plans for the day and laced their fingers together. Nina came to join them in the living room, the three girls laughing uproariously about something that had happened the night before which Brooke couldn’t remember being there for, so she stayed quiet. As the others spoke, Brooke heard the buzzer go off again, and she was up like a shot to get it. She, in the nicest way possible, prayed it wouldn’t be Plastique.

Her heart soared when she picked up the phone and heard the immediate loud voices of Silky and Vanjie bickering.

“I SAID FLAT 3F1, BITCH, YOU PRESSED EVERY DAMN BUZZER ON THE DOOR!”

“YOU KNOW I AIN’T GOOD WITH NUMBERS!”

“…WHAT IS THERE TO GET, HOE? IT’S A THREE, AN F AND A ONE! A WHEEL OF CHEESE COULD FIGURE THAT OUT!”

“Um. Guys?” Brooke spoke up, hoping that none of her neighbours were listening to the debacle. “It’s Brooke?”

There was a beat of silence and a crackle of laughter on the other end of the phone. Akeria’s voice followed. “Thanks, boo. Buzz us in.”

Obeying, Brooke pressed a nail to the buzzer and stood waiting at the door, her heartbeat growing faster as she heard the soft, displeased muttering coming from the three girls drift its way up the stairs. Akeria came into view first, flipping her long, straight blonde hair over her shoulders as she strutted up the stairs in her heeled boots. She could easily have been on her way to another night out, having complete disregard for any form of jeans, leggings or pant-like clothing and wore skirts or dresses at every opportunity. Today she wore a long t-shirt dress with a belt around the waist and a huge, fluffy pink fur coat to compliment the cold weather. She arrived at the doorframe and gave Brooke a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“How you doin’ girl, you feelin’ it?” she pouted sympathetically, Brooke only nodding in response. Akeria squeezed her arm. “That’s too bad. I don’t mean to be rude but I’m gonna die if I don’t eat chicken nuggets in the next five minutes so I’m gonna just head on through.”

Brooke nodded understandingly but hardly had time to look back into the stairwell when she was crushed in a huge bear hug by Silky, in jeans and a loose leopard print top which was a far cry from her glittering, bodycon dress she’d had on the night before. She barely had time to say hi to her when she was ambushed by the girl she’d been waiting for to arrive- Vanjie, all tiny and soft in her pink Ellesse tracksuit that Brooke knew she reserved for lazy, hungover mornings, her dark, wavy hair swept up in a neat bun.

“Brooky!” she squealed happily, kissing her mid-hug and instantly sending Brooke to cloud nine. She moved to pull away almost as quickly as she’d initiated it, and the moment was gone way too quickly. Pushing down her brief disappointment, Brooke smiled at the girls.

“How are we today, ladies?” she asked, laughing as Silky rolled her eyes.

“SO,” she started, Vanessa raising her eyebrows at Brooke longsufferingly. “Not only do I have to kick some foetus-ass, rugby impostor out of bed first thing after I wake up…I also don’t get a single moment to relax because Miss Vanjie’s runnin’ through to my room, yelling and screaming we gotta go round to Brooke’s bitch, we gotta go round to Brooke’s, c'mon let’s go! like a fuckin’ CHILD for ten straight MINUTES!”

Brooke burst out laughing, wondering if she was imagining the blush that hit Vanjie’s cheeks and the slight push she gave her flatmate.

“It wasn’t ten minutes, Jesus, I was just excited for hungover fun with my girlfriends,” she muttered, rubbing at her forehead and slightly smudging last night’s makeup that was still firmly on her face. It didn’t matter though. She was still utterly fucking beautiful to Brooke.

Catching herself before she kept the dopey smile on her face any longer, Brooke shrugged. “Well, I’m glad you made it if only so you could stop Yvie descending into complete obesity with her forty nuggets.”

“Hm. Too late for some of us, bitch,” Silky deadpanned, causing Vanessa to double over laughing. They wandered through to the living room together, where Akeria had squashed herself beside Yvie and Scarlet on the sofa and Nina was busying herself washing glasses and chatting to them. Foregoing niceties, Silky ran and threw herself into the armchair, causing Vanjie to raise an unimpressed eyebrow at her and sit on the floor, her back against the arm of the sofa. Thinking, Brooke gestured to Yvie for a pillow and the other girl obliged. Brooke propped the pillow up against the sofa then sat down and rested her back on it, leaving enough room for Vanessa. The girl gave her a grateful smile as she relaxed against it, at once too close and not close enough. Brooke smiled back at her, feeling her recline against her side and sighing happily.

Silky was busy engaging all the girls in a conversation about all the gory details from her faux-rugby-player encounter, so Brooke looked at Vanjie and nudged her a little. “You have fun last night?”

Vanjie snorted. “Bitch. I always have fun when I’m out, ain’t no need to worry about that. Helps when you come out with us, though.”

Brooke hoped she was covering up her blushing with her smile, playing it off by shrugging. “Aww, you’re cute. No, well I’m just always so busy with portfolio shit. Nobody believes me when I say the design department work you hard.”

“I always believe you!” Vanjie exclaimed, affronted. Brooke couldn’t help but laugh.

“You once believed Akeria when she said pineapple was a vegetable, there’s no hope for you,” she teased, laughing as Vanjie pouted beside her. Christ, she was fucking adorable.

“You’re lucky you gave me so many compliments last night so I can’t be mad at you,” she said in passing, Brooke’s heart immediately standing still.

What the fuck did I say?

“Really? I don’t remember this. This doesn’t sound like me, I would never give you a compliment.”

Vanessa laughed and leaned in closer to her side, giggling. “Shut up, boo, you say nice things to me all the time! Think you were especially attached last night though. Kept talking about how cute I looked.”

This was bad. This was horrifically bad. Brooke momentarily looked up to Nina for help, but she was sitting on the arm of Silky’s chair, too engrossed in her story. Brooke gave a cough that was meant to be a laugh, and stumbled over her words. “When was I…when did I say all this?”

Vanessa was back to being nonchalant and was looking at the TV, still aggravatingly playing soap operas. “Aw, you know. When we were queuing at the bar, when we were out smoking, when we went to go pee. Quite a few times.”

Brooke gave a fake laugh which she hoped hid the absolute terror pulsing through her veins. Vanjie joined in, then poked her. “Part of me was like, does this bitch wanna make out with me or something? That would’ve been funny as shit. Can you imagine, Brooke Lynn?! Oh my God.”  

Brooke at once felt her laugh come way too loud and too harsh and too fake. Mercifully, thankfully, she was distracted by a cry from Yvie.

“Oh my GOD! We’re out of food.”

Nina shrugged, fingers already at her phone. “Plastique’s still to come, I could get her to stop by Greggs on the way?”

There was an ethereal moan of delight from each girl in the room, leading to a big bubble of laughter immediately after and calls for Nina to be anointed. Brooke smiled affectionately as Vanjie threaded her arm through Brooke’s own, cuddling in further to her side.

She hadn’t told her last night. She would soon.

[anothers-trash-my-treasure]

Invited 2.1

Sooooooo this one is mostly for me because I am Mazlek trash and if I didn’t get this out I was literally going to go crazy. Anyway, the next part of this will be based more around Rami/Reader/Joe because this one is basically just Rami/Joe and I’m really not that sorry about it. Enjoy

Pairing:  Rami Malek/Joe Mazzello, Brief Rami Malek/Reader

Warnings: Smuuttt, anal sex, dirty talk, swearing

Word Count: 2056

The topic had come up suddenly one night. It was just the two of us, half drunk on a bottle of wine, playing a game of never have I ever, which really turned into a “have you ever?”.The questions were mostly silly at this point, just saying things to make each other laugh. I thought I had the perfect question.

“Okay, okay, okay,” I stopped giggling and wiggled my eyebrows at him, “Have you ever been with another guy before?”

And he doesn’t say anything. Just lifts his glass to his mouth, raises an eyebrow with a tilt of his head before looking away almost bashfully. My brain short circuits, jaw drops. There’s no way. I mean, it’s not like Rami had the slightest bit of toxic masculinity in his body, being affectionate with his co-workers was just part of his personality. But to be in that vulnerable position with one of them? To have them see him like I have? There’s no way.

“No fucking way,” I breathe, ”we’ve been dating for a year and you’ve never told me this? I ask incredibly, making him laugh. “who?!” I demand excitedly.

He just shakes his head, a small smile pulling at his lips, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Is it someone I know?” He shrugs. I whine, high and child-like, “C’mon Rami, just tell me.” 

He considers this, staring into his wine glass, contemplating my request while he swirls the dark liquid in the glass. And then he’s downing the rest of the liquid, and looking me dead in the eye.

“You really wanna know?” He asks lowly. I nod excitedly, leaning forward a little to get closer to him, “Promise not to tell anyone?” 

I hold out my pinky, a symbol we both take incredibly seriously, despite the childish nature of it. He locks his pinky in mine, holding our hands suspended in mid-air and staring into my eyes. His eyes dart away and he leans back in his chair.

“Joe.” 

My jaw drops, and I swear to god I almost faint. “Joe?! Like, our Joe? Like, Joe Mazzello?” He nods, a smirk playing at his lips at my reaction, “Oh my god, please tell me everything.” I plead.

His eyebrow raises, “I’m not drunk enough for that.” He laughs, shaking his head and going to pour himself another glass. I stop him, grabbing the wine before running to the kitchen. I search around in our liquor cabinet, desperately trying to find the bottle I know will get him to spill more of this story. When I find it, I drag it back out into the living room and show it to him excitedly.

“Y/n, I am not doing tequila shots with you.” He groans.

“Yes, you are.” I say simply, sitting down beside him, “It’s this or you tell me the whole story right now. Choose your poison, Mr.Malek.” I smile devilishly at him.

He sighs, reaching to grab the bottle out of my hand. He pops the bottle open, bringing it to his lips before taking a long swig of it. He grimaces at the harsh flavour and burn of the liquid, passing the bottle back to me. When I don’t make a move to drink it, he shakes his head stubbornly,

“Uh-uh, No way, I am not being hungover alone tomorrow. Take a fucking shot or no story.”

Pretty soon, we’re both too drunk on tequila and I’ve honestly almost forgotten why I pulled out the tequila in the first place until Rami speaks again. 

“Alright,” He sighs, head leaning on the sofa, “I’ll tell you.” 

I squeal excitedly, maneuvering myself so I’m sitting cross-legged on the couch beside him. It’s all I can do but sit and listen while he tells me what is quite possibly the hottest thing I could ever imagine.

“It happened when we did The Pacific...”

Neither of them are quite sure how they got here. It was a build up for sure, the lingering glances, the chemistry and their characters constantly being close to each other. It was really only a matter of time before this happened. Both of them are quite surprised that there’s not a drop of alcohol in their system. The tension had just finally boiled over.

Joe had Rami pinned up against the door of his hotel room, tongue swirling around his own as they pressed against each other, their breathing hard and heavy. Rami’s fingers find their way through the belt loops of Joe’s pants, pulling his hips closer to his own and gasping when he feels the hard line of Joe’s cock pressed against him. Joe’s hands push Rami’s shirt up his torso, letting them roam over taut muscles. A thumb brushes over Rami’s nipple lightly, causing a small breathy moan of Joe’s name to fall from his lips.

“Have you ever...” Joe trails off, eyes darting around Rami’s face, taking in every detail of the other man's face, he wants to remember this. 

Rami shakes his head, trying desperately to get his breath back but failing miserably when his hips move on their own account, “have you?” 

Joe nods, capturing Rami’s lips in his once more before pulling him to the bed with him. They settle so that Rami is straddling Joe, leaning down to kiss him heatedly as his hips move to provide some fiction. When Joe's hands move to grip Rami’s ass, he’s a little blindsided with how much he wants the man underneath him. God, he wants it. He never thought he’d want this. But upon meeting Joe his thoughts had wandered. Wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of something. He’d tried to experiment on his own, but the angle was awkward and he didn’t actually have to correct supplies so he’d pretty much left it up to his imagination. But now...

“How do you wanna do this?” Joe breathes. He barely gets his question out before Rami is whining high in his throat and grinding his hips down a little harder.

“I want you to...” He takes a shaky breath in, opening his eyes to look down at Joe, who’s looking up at him with heat and lust in his eyes, “I want you to fuck me. Please.” 

The younger man shivers beneath him, “Are you sure, Rami? It hurts like a bitch at first but...” His thumb begins to rub up against his hip bone absently, “We can take it slow...I’d-” he swallows nervously, “I’d make it good for you.”

Rami nods enthusiastically, biting his lip at the mere thought of finally getting what he’s been craving after all these months, “Please Joe.” 

They waste no time from that moment on. Ridding themselves of their clothes, pausing each time a new section of skin is revealed so they can explore and remember every detail of their time together. When they’re both naked, writhing and grinding against each other, Joe finally reaches into the bedside table, pulling out a condom and a bottle of lube.

Flipping them over in one smooth motion, Joe situates himself in between Rami’s legs, setting his legs so they’re perched on his hips. He pops open the lube and starts to warm the liquid up between his fingers. Joe takes his time prepping the other man, checking in with him and making sure he is okay. It’s not the worst thing Rami’s felt, but definitely not comfortable either. That is until Joe crooks his fingers at a different angle and Rami sees actual stars. A gasp is ripped from his lips, followed by a low moan as Joe pokes and prods at his prostate.

“There we go,” Joe breathes, a smile evident in his voice, “Told you I’d make it good, didn’t I?”

From there on out, Rami is a begging mess. It never felt like this on his own. He feels hot all over, a twinge of desperation curling at this base of his spine.  It’s not until Joe has three fingers stretching him out that Rami gets impatient. 

“Joe, c’mon. I’m so ready.” And when Joe asks him if he’s sure, Rami whines, high and needy in his throat, “Oh my god yes, please. Need it.”   

Joe chuckles darkly at him, mumbling under his breath as he removes his fingers to grab the condom, “So needy Ram.”

When Joe pushes the head in Rami isn’t sure what is happening. His body is conflicted, pain rippling through his lower back but yet pleasure is running through his veins. Joe’s kissing his neck and jaw line when he bottoms out, letting Rami adjust around him. Rami tangled a hand in Joe's hair, pulling the other man's face towards his own so he could capture his lips in a breathless kiss. Joe shifted to get closer to him and Rami let out a low whimper.

“I’m good,” He gasped, feeling every ridge of Joe inside of him and absolutely loving it now that his body had adjusted, “move, please.”

Joe doesn’t have to be asked twice, Rami is tight and hot around him and it’s been literal hell trying not to buck into the heat. He starts as slowly as he can, pulling out nearly all the way before sinking back into the heat, both of them letting out sounds of pleasure at the feeling.

Rami is losing his mind, he never had a doubt in his mind that Joe would make it good for him; but he never thought it’d be this good. Every time Joe sinks back inside of him his back arches further, eyes fluttering at how fucking good it feels. But he needs more. More force, more speed, more of the zaps of pleasure that shoot up his spine. 

“More,” his voice is high, “Joe please, more.” His hips are pushing down onto Joe's cock relentlessly, trying to get him deeper. 

Joe pulls out, flipping Rami onto his stomach and maneuvering the other man so that he’s on his knees, the upper half of his body pressed against the mattress. 

When Joe thrusts into him like this it’s heavenly. His cock is so much deeper at this angle and Rami moans loudly. His hips beginning to move on their own account, meeting Joe's thrusts enthusiastically. 

“Shit Rami,” Joe moans, he finds himself complete invested in the man below him, “If I would’ve known you were gonna love this so much we’d have done it a lot sooner.”

Rami whines beneath him, back arching, “Feels so good,” He moans, “God, so fucking good.” He’s panting, a hand tangled in his own hair, tugging on it in an attempt to ground himself. Pleasure clouds his vision, the only thing he can focus on is the feeling of Joe’s cock brushing against his prostate with every thrust. 

Joe changes his angle slightly and suddenly Rami’s prostate is being attacked. Rami’s basically screaming at this point, mouth hung open as he pushes himself back against Joe’s thrusts.

 “Yes, yes, yes, fuck Joe. Right there. Please don’t stop, fuck.” He feels his release building in his stomach, “I’m so close Joe.”

Upon hearing that, Joe doubles his efforts, leaning down to whisper in the older man's ear, “That’s it Rami, come for me. I’m right there with you. C’mon...ah shit, c’mon.” All it takes is a few more thrusts and they’re both spiralling over the edge. Rami cries out Joe's name, throwing his head back as white-hot pleasure overtakes his entire body. He’s never felt like this before. He feels like he’s floating as he comes down, vaguely aware of Joe doing the same right beside him.

I sit there with my mouth hung open. Heat has pooled between my legs and I swear to god I’ve never been so turned on. Who would’ve thought the idea of my boyfriend and one of my closest friends getting on would’ve done it for me.

“I uh,” I stutter, “Rami, that’s fucking...” I take a breath, trying to compose myself, “so fucking hot??” 

He looks surprised, “so you’re not...weirded out by it?”

“By what?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, “By the fact that you like being fucked? Not at all, babe.” I climb into his lap, “In fact,” I kiss his jawline tenderly, “This gives me a few ideas.” To Be Continued...

[notquitejiraiya]

Chess [3] - {ShikaTema AU}

[Read Part 1 Here], [Read Part 2 Here]

Two updates in two days. I’ve had the time and the drive, so why not? I hope you all enjoy this chapter - it was a LOT of fun to write, to be honest.

Thanks for taking the time to read it. Enjoy!

CHAPTER THREE

“So, how was it?”

Temari threw her bag and keys down on the table and gawked as she saw her younger brother lounging across her sofa. “Kankuro, that’s my lasagna!”

“It was in the freezer,” he laughed back, shovelling the food into his mouth with reckless abandon. He preceded to mumble with his mouthful. “It wasn’t labelled. It’s mine now.” With a gulp, he turned around fully, grinning. “Unless you want it back.”

“As if I want it back.” For the thousandth time today, Temari rolled her eyes. “You have mince in your teeth by the way. God, when did you become so gross?”

“I am not gross. Grab me a beer.” When his sister scowled, the younger man smiled hopefully, adding a feeble, “Please?”

She laughed, shuffling over to the fridge to grab her brother and herself a can each, before lobbing one his way and cracking hers open. “You owe me at least one-pound-fifty for that lasagna. Maybe two-quid.”

“Two quid?” Kankuro seemed offended at the demand, almost snarling. “Two bloody pounds for a medium sized plate of mediocre lasagna? I don’t fucking think so, Tem.”

“The hell do you mean ‘medium sized’ and ‘mediocre’. Piss off you ungrateful sod, it wasn’t even for you.” Temari groaned as she kicked her shoes off and hurled herself over to the sofa next to him. “Where’s Gaara?” She stuck her finger into the tomato sauce on the side of his plate, and immediately Kankuro snatched it away.

“Who cares? Stop eating my lasagna and answer my question.”

“Your lasagna?” she argued, bemused. “No, I don’t bloody think—”

“Oh, just shut up and tell me how your day went.” He turned down the TV, virtually to mute and stared at her. “How was your first batch of weird—”

“Kankuro, don’t,” she warned. “Don’t be a dick; you know they’re not weird.”

He frowned, saddened. “Sorry. It’s just ever since you told me about the guy who came into your uni who said he constantly heard seagulls, it’s hard to think of anything else.”

“I get it, but there’s nothing weird about mental illness,” insisted Temari. Nothing upset her more than when people treated those who’d lost their way or were confused like they were weird, and nothing made her want to punch her little brother more than hearing him make the same sad joke for the thousandth time.

“Okay.” Kankuro placed his plate on the coffee table and sat back. “I’m sorry. But how was it? Anyone interesting?”

“I can’t tell you specifics, Kankuro. It’s utterly against the confidentiality code that comes with the job—”

“No, I know, but I’m asking how you found it.”

“Um,” she faltered, wondering how best to phrase mostly-shit-with-good-moments, without mentioning her undoubtedly favourite patient of the day. “Well, I guess it was okay.”

“Years of training and you guess it was okay?”

“Well, to be honest, Kankuro, I didn’t expect to be shat on and yelled at by the first few of them.” She could see the smile developing on his face, and quickly shot it down with a glare. “No, not literally shat on. You’re such a child.”

“Sorry,” he giggled, reaching back over for his plate. “So it was crap, basically?”

Temari shook her head, taking a long swig from her beer can. “No, no, not completely.” She gave it. “Mostly shit, yes, but with good moments.” Yeah, that really was the only way to get her exact feeling across. “The last three were pretty nice to me, actually. At first I wanted to punch one of them, but that subsided. It’s tough for them, after all—nobody really wants to be there.”

Solemnly, Kankuro nodded. “No, they don’t. It must be especially tough if you’re forced to go. I mean…” He paused for a moment, chewing as he thought. “I’m sure they’re forced out of love, but I can imagine that at first it won’t feel that way.”

With a small giggle, Temari got to her feet and headed for the fridge.

“What?”

She just kept smiling, rooting around the shelves until she found a microwave meal with Kankuro’s name on it. “You’re the one who’s a weirdo.”

“Oi, what? Why?”

“Because one minute you’re being stupidly insensitive, and the next you’re being really empathetic. You really are ‘both a nightmare and a daydream’.” Her grin grew.

“Hey, no!” He winced. “You can’t keep throwing that back at me, okay?”

“Are we teasing him about Ana’s poem again?” sounded a voice from the hallway. “Brilliant.”

“Shut up, Gaara!”

“I certainly won’t, ‘prince of splintering wood’!”

Temari couldn’t bite down on her lip much harder than she was, trying to hold back her laughter.

“It’s not fair. Temari’s last boyfriend wrote her a song, and nobody teased her about that!”

“Yeah,” retorted Gaara, “but it wasn’t actually bad at all.”

“And it was before we split up,” the blonde added, smirking.

Gaara nodded in agreement, blatantly ignoring Kankuro’s desperate hand motions and groans to drop the subject. He’d picked on them enough, and the bitter break-up poem that Kankuro’s ex-girlfriend had written about him provided the pair with their chance to fight back. “Why on earth did she think it was a good idea to write that?”

“And why did she put it up on YouTube?” Temari put her food in the microwave and leant against the counter, arms crossed as she smiled at her youngest brother. “It has like three-thousand views now, you know?”

Kankuro slumped back into his chair, sulking.

“Yeah, I know,” chuckled Gaara. “At least a thousand of those are me.”

She tried to stifle another laugh.

“Tem?”

“Yeah, Gaara?”

“Three-thousand-and-one?”

“Oh, yes, I think maybe we should—”

“Okay, enough!” Kankuro called out, through gritted teeth. “You guys really know how to give it, don’t you?”

The redhead shrugged as he turned his attention to the kitchen table and the fruit bowl in the centre. “As do you, ‘soul with the skin of a conker’.” He played with an apple between his hands. “Ana really didn’t leave anything out did she? She wanted it to be very clear it was you she was talking about.”

“And that you were particularly spiky,” added Temari.

“Tem,” Kankuro pleaded, from his hiding place behind the cushions, “your whole job is to stop people feeling like shit. Got to admit, you’re crap at it.”

“You’re not my patient.”

“No, I’m not. But I am your brother.”

“Exactly.”

Gaara nodded to her and raised his apple up as if to get her attention. “Oh, how was your day then?”

“Clearly not as good as yours,” interrupted their brother, the only person unwelcome to the conversation. “You’re far too cheerful these days. Where’s gloomy old Gaara gone who was too cool and too kind to gang up on his big brother?”

All Temari had to do was clear her throat for him to snap his head in her direction. “After living through so many years of being ganged up on by said big brother, are you really surprised he fights back?”

“Yeah, but he never used to have a sense of humour.”

“Have you considered that maybe after all the weight Dad put on his shoulders lifted that things might’ve got a little bit lighter—easier—for him?”

“He is also stood right here.” Gaara took a bite out of his fruit, uncomfortable with the rising tones of his sibling’s voices.

“I’m sorry,” Temari sighed. “I’m glad you’re free to be how you want now, Gaara.”

“So am I, man; I swear.” His older brother put his thumb up. “I just sometimes miss you being the mediator.”

Temari raised her eyebrows, gasping. “Ooh, Kankuro…big word.”

“Look, I’m not stupid—”

“We know, we know,” she giggled. “After all you earn a heck of a lot more money than we do, and you do manual labour all day—I certainly wouldn’t be up for that. I like my comfy chair, my toffees and my chess matches much better, thank you.”

The microwave, very loudly, screamed ping.

The brothers frowned at her, leaning toward their sister with confusion. “Chess matches?” Kankuro enquired before Gaara could finish his mouthful. “You’re a therapist, or psychiatrist—whatever it is you choose to call it—why were you playing chess?”

Quickly she span around and opened the microwave, hoping the smell of ready-made, packeted curry would wake her brain up; tell her what to say. “Well,” she gulped, “I put a chess board in my office just for show, to be honest. You know I like to play, or at least I used to like to play with Baki—we all did—and I thought it’d make the room look more professional. But I actually played today against one of my patients.”

“And…” Kankuro took a sip of his beer, his eyes trained on her constantly. For the first time he seemed actively interested rather than just polite and supportive for the sake of it.

“And it got him to talk when he otherwise wouldn’t,” she mumbled, smiling faintly.

“Was that the one that—”

“That I wanted to punch at first? Yeah. But he was okay; it’s not his fault.” Kankuro nodded slowly, looking down at his lap. She smiled at Gaara, who looked proudly at her for her efforts, and she felt warm inside—suddenly she felt like she had done well, or at least a good deed for the day. Gaara’s smile, the happy face of her once tiny little brother, always made Temari feel like she was a worthy big sister, and that she’d done a good job. She lifted her can to her lips, taking a sip as she did.

“Was he hot?”

Temari spluttered, almost spitting out the small amount of beer in her mouth. “Kankuro, what the hell?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “you did the girly melty eye thing you do.”

“I did not!” she shouted. “Gaara, tell him I didn’t!”

Feebly, Gaara screwed up his nose and shrugged. “You kinda did. In the same way you do when we see the dog rescue shelter adverts on TV.”

“That’s because I feel sorry for them, not because I think they’re hot for crying out loud!”

“But you do think he’s hot,” Kankuro insisted. “You’re fanning yourself with the tea-towel. You always do that when you’re nervous.”

Damn them for knowing me so well, she thought. But I don’t think he’s that hot. Well, maybe a little bit, but only in that sort of…see it and agree kind of way. He’d my patient it’s not like I’m going to jump him. That’d be totally inappropriate.

“What colour hair does he have?” the youngest brother quizzed. “Dark?”

She silently glared back.

“I’m sorry. I was just wondering.”

Temari let out a massive sigh and pulled a fork from the draw behind her. “Black. Like, really really dark black. And it was in a ponytail, messy. He completely didn’t look in a mirror while he was doing it.”

“Yeah, you’re totally into him.”

“Kankuro!”

“Don’t lie to me,” he shot back, laughing.

“I’m not! He’s a patient; it would be totally inappropriate.” She grumbled and took a bite of her food, drooping her shoulders. When she’d finished her mouthful she sighed, mumbling, “Yes, he’s a handsome guy, but I’m not attracted to him. Like I said, he’s a patient.”

Regretfully, Gaara and Kankuro exchanged a look and dropped the subject, and Gaara strode towards his brother and fell down beside him on the sofa. As she watched them chat about their days between the pair of them, leaving her to eat in peace, she couldn’t help but notice how lucky she was to have such a family: one that cared about her so much they didn’t have to tell her because she already knew. Her siblings really were such an important part of her life, and they’d shaped who she was today.

When she saw Kankuro down the remains of his beer, she flicked open the fridge to check there were eggs and bacon inside for her brother’s fry up the next morning, and immediately she knew what he next question would be for Shikamaru Nara when she saw him again.

No, if she saw him again. It wasn’t certain, after all.

Still, she had an inkling that he wasn’t the same as her; he seemed like an only child. Not in the stereotypical brattish way seen so often, the sad and lonely way that makes you feel like nobody is the same as you. It was something she desperately wanted to know and to understand, because it’s something she would never feel, but felt so sorry that anyone had to. She’d always had her brothers and they’d always had her. No matter what, they always would.

And despite their differences in height, hair colour and even gender, they were the same at heart, because they’d all had the same life growing up to some degree. That was something that bound them to one another that an only child, one as alone and miserable Shikamaru, hadn’t the chance to feel.

Nothing seemed sadder to Temari, than the thought of such loneliness. Because despite, how they’d changed and how they drove each other up the wall, nobody understood her like her brothers did, and nobody ever would. To be without them, even with all the friends in the world, would leave her companionless in that special way.

[looselucy]

Childhood Friends / 5392 words

Catch up

August 2017

Part One

My eyes were just about revealed over the back of the sofa as I watched Harry pacing his flat, one hand running through his hair and the other holding his phone to his ear. “Honestly… I used to care about this.” He sighed, utterly frustrated. “I used to care, but now… I literally don’t give a flying fuck. Use whatever speakers you think are best.” He’d been on the phone for almost an hour, and with each sentence he spoke, he was getting more and more worked up. He was trying to figure stuff out for the tour, and whoever was on the other end of the phone was obviously not grasping at what Harry wanted, or maybe giving him so many options that Harry had lost interest in something he’d once really wanted a say in. They certainly weren’t getting the point. “Just hang up!” I instructed, but he shook his head.

I could tell he really wanted to hang up, but he didn’t have the balls to do it. I knew he thought it would have been too rude, but the conversation was going around in bloody circles and I didn’t see it ending in any other way. We were in London, back in his beautiful apartment and back to an abnormal normality that I could just about be accustom with. London felt a lot more regular than LA ever would, and it was the perfect middle ground for us. I still found myself baffled, sometimes, when I took in the awards on his shelves and the fact that he could afford to live more than comfortably in London at all, but there was still a familiarity there that helped me feel at ease. “Josh… Josh just use the-” He went quiet again, allowing the guy on the other end to go off on another tangent. “Well what the fuck are those?” I could almost see him slowly losing his mind, and for around half an hour it had been relatively funny to behold, but it was slowly getting less and less amusing. I stood myself up, standing beside his coffee table and watching him pace through his kitchen area, possibly on the verge of a breakdown. I slowly began to undress myself, keeping my eyes on him and smiling smugly to myself, starting with my bottom layers and then moving upwards. I was only in my bra, reaching to unhook the thing, by the time Harry even noticed. He stopped pacing instantly, his mouth dropping just slightly, watching my movement as my final item of layering dropped to the floor. I bit my lip and stood there, probably kind of awkwardly, just waiting for him. “Josh, I’m gunna call you back.” With that, he finally hung up. I was surprised I hadn’t thought of it earlier. He marched around to me within seconds, dodging his sofa with speed and pulling me up and into his arms. I squealed excitedly as I wrapped my legs around his waist, soon lolling my head back to allow room for his lips as they danced across my neck. It was the perfect technique, because not only had it finally got him off the phone, but it meant that I could once again feel his tender lips embellish my tingling skin, exciting me as it simultaneously soothed me. He began carrying me towards his bedroom, my fingers finding their way into the hair at the back of his head, grinning to myself as he slowly made his way through his apartment, trying to find his way without ever taking his lips from my neck. We were unsuccessful, first crashing into the wall beside his hallway, mere inches away from being on track, and then the rug gave way beneath Harry’s feet, and we tumbled. Harry let out a low shout of pain as he landed on top of me, and I just laughed, laying back on the floor and sniggering away to myself loudly, now using my hands to cover my breasts, like I’d gone all shy. “For fuck sake.” Harry managed to laugh, trying to clamber back upright. “That’s the least smooth thing I’ve ever done in my fucking life.” I continued laughing, my boobs jiggling away in my hands as Harry got up to his knees, watching me with a smile as he shook his head, clearly trying not to be impressed with the situation, but it was just so funny. Harry was smooth and controlled with everything he did. From his work, to his sex life, everything was precise and perfect. I got a weird sense of pleasure seeing him mess up. He got up to his feet, whilst grabbing my hand and yanking upwards to join him, putting his hands back on my waist and finally leading me in the right direction again. I was moving backwards with much more speed than I was prepared for, and I was still laughing away to myself as he pushed the two of us back into his bedroom. “Stop fucking laughing at me.” He continued his weak attempts at burying his smile. “I’m sorry.”  I lied, moving my lips up to meet his. “Kiss me.” He didn’t, instead forcefully turning me around and bending my body over so that my breasts were pressed down at the bottom of the mattress, my legs dangling off the foot of the bed, my cheek down against the sheets. Humour drained from the room as I listened out for the noises I knew were coming, Harry routing through his drawers, and my breathing picking up its pace. I cursed quietly to myself, staying on my spot but spreading my legs a little, making sure I was as comfortable as I physically could be. “Gimme your hands.” He gasped, and I could hear his smirk, and it drove me insane. I did as I was told, and the very second I felt him attaching his cuffs to my wrists, I could feel myself getting wetter, closing my eyes as my chest seemed to crush in on itself, Harry wrapping the leather tight before hooping the two straps together. I fucking loved it when he got that way. Once we’d started truly developing feelings for one another, falling in love, it became a bit more of a rarity that he’d delve into that darker side of his sexual desires. So often we wanted to be soft with one another, for each touch to be filled with love and longing. Our meetings were rare and our feelings strong, so it naturally happened that way. But thanks to the fact I’d already been in London for two days, it gave us the time to fall back into old habits, where his stimulation stemmed from the coves of his mind he hadn’t explored with many people. It was entirely thrilling. He came and stood by the side of his bed so I could see him, and that’s when he started undoing his belt, biting his lip as he toyed with the buckle, glaring down to me as my mouth dropped open a little more. He grinned at the sight of me, weak and waiting. He then pulled the black leather from between the slots on his jeans, and once it was out he curved it in his hands, forming a loop which he snapped, the noise sending shivers coiling through my joints and erupting a bruised whimper that slipped from my mouth. He crouched down to my level, tenderly stroking some loose strands of hair from my face. “You tell me to stop and I will.” He whispered. “I won’t.” I smirked. “Lamb, I’m serious.” His voice lowered even more. “If it’s too much, you’ve gotta let me know.” I nodded, wetting my lips again and watching his grin grow, my heart beating harder and harder in the lead up to what was about to happen. He shot back upright, disappearing from sight as he moved to my rear end, snapping the belt once again. Not being able to see what he was doing sent my nerves spiralling out of control, my thoughts ablaze as I anticipated his next move. But he somehow still managed to catch me completely off-guard. It was his lips, soft against my bare skin. Where I had expected to feel a sting, he had honoured me with a sublime tenderness, kissing briefly up my right cheek, and then the touch was gone, replaced with the feeling I’d been expecting. He whipped me, hard. I let out a low growl, my legs feeling as though they were about to give way but I somehow remained upright, seething in the feeling through gripped teeth. “Again.” I panted. “Harder.” He complied, the second sting so much greater than the first that it produced a noise from within me that I previously wasn’t sure I was able conjure. That’s when he placed his body on top of mine, crushing against my back and pushing me harder downwards, leaning his lips towards my ear. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.” He groaned, fingers reaching down and stroking between my folds. Then he was gone again, once again leaving me with no touches or sounds or any idea what his next move would be. It was exhilarating. Every single thing about it. I loved being utterly clueless, just balancing myself there waiting for him to make his next move. There was this gorgeous sense of uncertainty that I couldn’t help but fall in love with. What I adored about Harry was that his desires weren’t black and white. He didn’t just crave the power he had then, but he craved the weakness too. He didn’t just want to see me in cuffs, he wanted to be bound by them himself. He was both gentle and brutal and it seemed we both wanted exactly the same from each other at exactly the same time. We clicked. We worked, no matter the circumstances. His desires, like my own, were bursting with colours that our eyes couldn’t even comprehend, bright and beaming and shrouded by a mist that sparkled. It was everything I’d ever needed without even being aware it was something I wanted before that first time Harry had slapped his belt against my soaking core, the very first time we were together that way. The belt hit my skin for the third time, and I suppose I’d predicted I’d start to cower away from the pain, but if anything, I pushed my backside closer to him, desperate for more. “Holy fuck.” I gasped, my skin creasing thanks to the pain, but a smirk putting itself upon my lips. He whipped me again, and I could feel the heavy force of his movements in the air, just about being able to make out his satisfied grunts that followed the sound of leather meeting skin. My wrists were beginning to strain against their entrapment, laying bound at the bottom of my spine as I awaited more pain willingly. That’s when I felt his lips again, kissing passionately over my red skin, his tongue touching over the area beautifully as he whispered that he loved me, the words seeming to sink into my flesh, a grateful sigh prodding out from between my lips. “You look so good like this.” He whispered, moving his lips higher and beginning to kiss up my back, two fingers dipping between my dripping folds. “So vulnerable for me.” His body lay back on top of mine, heavy and heated, and then with no warning whatsoever he forced himself into me, causing me to let out an exhausted cry. I hadn’t known he was going to do that, every movement he’d made had been completely out of sight. Feeling him enter me fully like that with no warning somehow made me feel even more exposed than before, my stomach roiling and my heart beating harder. I bit at my bottom lip, hard, feeling him slowly rolling his hips towards me a few times, his teeth nibbling at my earlobe before he lashed back upright, his hands grabbing furiously at my hips as he started pounding into me relentlessly. I’d been close to coming before he’d even entered me, the feel of the sting upon my skin being such a turn on for me, but now he was working into me as perfectly as he always did, I knew I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My whole body was alive with the feeling. It fizzled through my blood and set my bones on fire. The leather of his belt was replaced by the palm of his hand as he slapped at my arse, and I finished, my mark of pleasure pushing onto him and erupting his own end, his body stilling as we rode out our orgasms together. It wasn’t long before he fell breathlessly onto the bed beside me. I turned my head the opposite way so I could see him, his hand on his chest as he stared breathlessly towards the ceiling, my wrists still bound together. “I feel like… I could play out every single fantasy I have with you.” He struggled to talk, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. I grinned to myself, silently hoping that he didn’t just mean his sexual fantasies, but all the fantasies he had for his life. Sexual, career wise, personal. I hoped he thought he could pursue them all, with me by his side.

Part Two

I’d become a bit of a wallflower during lunch, because really, I didn’t have much to say for myself. We’d met up with Nick and Alexa to grab some food, and the three of them were all talking excitedly between themselves and pulling up memories and scenarios that I couldn’t even dream about being involved in. So I just sat there, nodding along and smiling and laughing whenever I could, but barely saying a word. “That was easily, the wildest party we’ve ever been to.” Alexa chuckled, grabbing at some food from the platter in the centre of the table. “You tried these?” “No.” I shook my head. “You should, they’re amazing.” It wasn’t that any of them were being rude; far from it! Nick and Alexa had been making an effort with me and always acknowledging me and asking me things whenever they could, but their lives were so far from mine that it wasn’t easy to jump in on things and find common ground. All their friends were celebrities and every event they went to was high class and it managed to make my entire existence seem monotonous, compared to theirs. It was easy with Harry, because we’d grown up together, and most of the time our relationship barely touched the celebrity side of his lifestyle. But whenever it did, I found myself feeling withdrawn and baffled by just how different things were. It wasn’t just when he was walking the red carpet, or performing for thousands of people, or promoting a blockbuster movie, but it even meant that his friendships were different, his entire life built around things that I would never be familiar with. I loved him, endlessly, but sometimes it felt like I was trying to play catch-up in a race I’d never taken part in. Alexa and Harry continued to talk about this party they’d all once attended together as Nick looked my way, waiting until he’d swallowed before he spoke. “So how long you in London for?” “I’m going again tomorrow.” I tut. “That’s shit.” He sulked. “I’m having a party on Monday and it would’a been nice to have you there.” “What are you celebrating?” “Just… life, I reckon.” He shrugged. “Any excuse.” “Huh?” Harry joined in our conversation, a little behind. “I was gunna invite your missus to my party, but she’ll be home by then.” “Well, she’s thinking of maybe moving here, aren’t ya?” He nudged me. “You serious?” Nicks eyes went wide. “That’s amazing!” “Gotta be more exciting here than Swanage, right?” Alexa grinned. I merely nodded, and smiled as Harry leaned in and kissed my cheek, excited over the thought of us living in the same city together. “So, anyone exciting going to your party?” Harry asked Nick. “Other than us, obviously.” “I think Ronnie is gunna make an appearance this time, y’know.” “My boy!” Harry smirked, grabbing a little more food. “I’ve missed him. It’s been ages!” “Don’t say you’re talking about Ronnie Wood.” I cried. “Just don’t do it.” “Harry and Ronnie are thick as thieves.” Alexa smirked, shaking her head. It was crazy to think that somewhere along the line, Harry had been able to stop idolizing people and just start calling them friends instead. It wasn’t a big deal for him to be seeing Ronnie for any other reason than the fact it had been a while. I just couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. Our meal continued and they all chatted between themselves, and I went quiet again. Harry placed his hand upon my leg at one point, under the table, gripping at me as though silently trying to encourage me to join in a little more, but I couldn’t. What the fuck did I have to say about fashion or award shows? Once the food was done, I was tucked under Harry’s arm, cuddled into his side and laughing at a story Nick was telling us about his dog throwing up in a cup of tea he’d just made, when three shy looking girls approached the table, giggling coyly to themselves. “Oh my god, hi.” One of them spoke, greeting Harry directly. “I love you so much, I’m sorry for interrupting, but do you mind if we get a picture?” “Of course not.” Harry obliged, getting up to his feet immediately. I moved my legs to allow him to scuttle past me and join the girls who all looked like they were on the verge of minor breakdowns. All but one, anyway. She was just staring at me, brows furrowed. They gathered for a picture, and snapped it quickly, Harry seemingly grateful for it. I knew he was usually more than happy to take pictures as long as it didn’t take up too much of his time. He was sat back down with me, and placed me back beneath his arm, and the girls hadn’t moved. “I’m seeing you in October.” It seemed only one girl had it in her to talk, another one just crying and the final girl still staring at me. “I can’t wait!” “Oh that’s sick.” Harry nodded. “I hope you like the show. I’ll do my best to make it a good one.” “Can you get us VIP?” “Uh… It’s not… something we’re doing this time around. Sorry.” He smiled. “Have a good day, alright. Nice to meet you.” He was trying to get rid of them as politely as he could. The girl who had been staring at me whipped up quickly and began whispering in the vocal girls ear, covering the words by using her hand as a shield, and then once it was done they both just burst out laughing. “Thanks, Harry.” She bid, as they began walking away, still laughing together and making me feel utterly nauseous. That was that. Harry carried on like normal, chatting with Alexa as Nick glanced across the table to me with his brows low, questioning what the fuck had just happened in the same way I was. But neither of us said anything. None of us said anything about it at all. I think Harry liked to brush over those things and carry on with his existence, like he could ignore the fact that he couldn’t just go out and grab some lunch without being reminded about his job, and the fact it was almost impossible to escape. Because that was what helped Harry. Viewing it all as part of the job, helped him to separate things and stay sane. I think he just got frustrated by the fact that no matter how he tried, it was difficult to stumble across a day where he didn’t have to work. A day where he could forget about his job and just exist for a while. But as always, Harry didn’t allow himself to just bitch about it, even a little bit. He just carried on his day, as graceful as ever.

Part Three

“I think those girls were laughing at me.” I mumbled. “What?” His bedsheets covered my legs as I pulled them up towards my chest, wrapping my arms around them and watching Harry as he undressed. “Those girls who asked for a picture today at lunch. I dunno, I just… I think they were laughing at me.” “Why would they be laughing at you?” I shrugged, and dropped my head. I could have probably named a few reasons those girls were laughing at me. They were used to seeing Harry with models, and I was a far cry from that. They were used to seeing Harry with gorgeous girls who they could look up to, girls who made their own money and featured in fucking Vogue, girls whose names they’d read online. They didn’t know anything about me other than the bare tatters of information the media had wildly tried to throw together. I think the idea of us, in a way, was laughable to some of his fans. It made perfect sense to us, and we’d known each other for years, but I knew that it didn’t make sense to a lot of other people. I suppose those girls seeing me, and seeing how utterly normal I was, average in every single way imaginable, had been what cause them to snigger at me. Even sat on that table with the three of them that day, I knew I stood out like a sore thumb. Harry noted the sad little look upon my face, stripping down to his tight boxers before climbing over the bed to me, pressing his forehead against mine before kissing me sweetly. “You’re just being paranoid, Little Lulu Lamb.” He wittered. “They were just excited and giggly. Don’t overthink it.” “Okay.” I mumbled. “Who even gives a fuck if they were?” He kissed me again, forcefully, so that I ended up laying back on the bed, his body light atop mine. “You’re here, with me. That’s all that matters.” Harry had grown thick skin over the years, but it had taken time. I was still new to everything, and although I wished it was something I could ignore, it wasn’t as easy as that. It would take some adjustment. I stroked my fingers through his hair and kissed him back, sighing appreciatively when he licked his tongue into my mouth, just briefly before he pulled away, a soft smile making his pretty lips even more pinker. He fell to his side of the bed and started scrambling beneath the sheets, relaxing into his bed which was, by far, the comfiest thing I’d ever slept upon. I turned on my side, watching his eyes closing slowly, wetting his lips and shuffling until he was as cosy as possible. “Harry, I need to tell you something.” I whispered. He opened his eyes and turned his head, and I noted how kind his eyes were. It was a certain shade of green that I was sure only existed within his orbs, a beautiful window into his soul. “Everything okay?” “I got a promotion.” His eyes went wide immediately before he sat up, balancing on his elbow and glaring down to me. I smiled innocently. “What?” He cried. “You got a promotion?” “Yeah.” “Lulu that’s amazing! HUG ME!” I giggled as I moved up to hug him, and he swayed us happily. I could feel his large grin upon the side of my face as we cuddled, and I was happy with his reaction thus far, but I wasn’t sure he’d entirely thought it through before getting excited. “So what’ll you be doing?” He asked once we parted. “I’m gunna be the head of editing so… people will come to me their final pieces, and I’ll be able to help decide what’s published and what’s not. It’s good. It’s really good.” “What the fuck? I’m well chuffed for you.” His grin then dropped. “Why didn’t you tell me? You’ve been here three days!” “I didn’t wanna upset you.” “On what planet would you getting a new job upset me?” “Because… in LA… you really wanted to me to think about living here and now it can’t happen like… I wanna stay in Swanage.” I spoke, and I could see from the look on his face that the truth of it was finally sinking in. “I love it there, Harry. I’ve made this really nice little existence for myself there. All my friends are there and, now I’ve got this great job that I think I’m really gunna love. That’s where my life is, and that’s where I want to be. I love you so much, and I’d love this to be a little bit easier than it is right now, but… I don’t wanna live in London. I wish I did, in a way, but… I don’t. I’m sorry.” His fingers were playing fretfully with his bedsheet, eyes watching the nervous movements of his fingers, and I could tell there was a part of him that wanted to put up a fight, advertise London to me, present the idea of a life where the two of us actually lived close by, but we both knew it was useless. I had my mind made up. I was staying put. I hated the thought of moving to London and changing my entire existence, only for Harry to go and spend months on end touring and being miles away regardless. It didn’t make sense to me. “Remember when you just lived down the road from me?” He grumbled downwards, smiling just slightly at the memory. “Five minutes, and you were mine.” “I’m yours now!” I called, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “I know.” He ached, turning his head and kissing my palm. “I just wish you were always five minutes away. I am happy for you, Lulu, of course I am, but… I dunno. I miss you like mad when we’re not together and, I guess I always like the thought of coming home to you.” “I like that thought too.” I whispered. “But it can’t happen right now.” He nodded, and I could tell how hard he was taking it. It was clear in his sloped shoulders, the way he wasn’t looking at me, the way his lips were slightly jutted. He’d gotten his hopes up over the past month, hoping that I would change my location just to make things that little bit easier for us. He’d had his heart set on it. He shook it off as quickly as he could, looking back up to me a forging a smile. “I’m genuinely so happy for you, Baby.” He leaned in to kiss me again. “Congratulations.” “Thank you.” I blushed, kissing him back sweetly. “I’m gunna have a party in a few weeks, to celebrate. You wanna come?” “I’d love to. When?” “I’m thinking the second of September.” “I’m pretty sure I’m free then, to be honest, so that works well.” “Good. It’ll be nice to have you there.” “So… Does this mean I’m gunna meet your friends?” His grin was becoming more genuine. “I guess so. Shit. I hadn’t really thought about that.” “Nah, it’s good. I’m excited. I’d like to charm them.” I’d mentioned to Harry that the girls had become a little worried about our relationship. I kept quiet about it, most of the time, so they were getting their information from ridiculous and inaccurate articles they’d read. They knew the image of Harry, and not the actual boy. I think he was excited to work his magic on them. “I’m sure you will.” I blushed. We lay back down again, turning my body so that Harry could wrap his arms around my waist and shell himself around me, kissing tenderly at the back of my neck as our day began to end. Harry was usually the type to be in bed at a sensible time, but since we didn’t get that much time together, we usually fucked up our sleeping patterns just for an extra few hours where we could drink one another in. We’d been quiet for a while before I spoke again. “Haz?” “Mm?” “What kinda future do you see for us?” “Hm…” He took his time, mulling over his options. “Well, eventually we’re gunna get a house together. Maybe I’ll… find a job on my team, and you can work for me and then you’ll always be around.” “You’re ridiculous.” I giggled. “We’ll probably get a dog. Name it something stupid. Live in a really private area in LA.” “I’m not living in fucking LA.” I huffed. “Hey, you’ll warm to it. It’s pretty nice there, I’m telling ya.” “I’m not doing it!” “Yeah, we’ll see.” He tut. “We’ll just… find this perfect way where our lives work together, like they did when we were younger. Might even marry you one day.” “Harry!” I cried. “What?” “Don’t talk about bloody marriage! We’ve only been together for five months!” “Yeah but I’ve known you for over ten fucking years, and I know what I want! I want you! I want us! Besides, it’s now officially been over a year since the first time I appeared at your front door in Swanage, and… I still get that feeling when I see you, like… It’s still the most exciting thing. I think that’s a good sign, right? It’s been over a year now and I still feel so… weird when I see you. It’s fucking thrilling.” I turned around, unable to hold in the absolute need that was pulsing through my blood, this need to kiss him and hold him a little tighter, hooking my leg over his hip and moaning sweetly against his tongue. “I love you.” I whispered. “I love you too.” He groaned, gripping his hand in my hair and fucking his tongue into my mouth.

Part Four

Waking up to see Harry in a rush was never a good thing. I groaned numbly, running the back of my hand over my eye and yawning in a new day, seeing Harry practically throwing on the first items of clothing he could find. “Wh-what’s going on?” I could barely speak, sleep still thick in my body. “Shit.” He turned to see me, but didn’t stop rushing. “You’re awake. Hi.” “Hi. Where ya going?” I was sulking already. “I gotta go.” “You said you weren’t doing-” “I got an audition.” “What? You did?” “Yeah.” He was practically jumping around the room. “And I really didn’t think I was gunna get it, and they’ve called last minute offering me a slot, so I need to go. I’m sorry. What time’s your train?” “Like… Two, I think.” “I’ll try and get back before then, but I can’t make any promises.” He jumped onto the bed, crawling across and giving me the quickest kiss he probably could before he was up again, grabbing his phone and jamming it into his pocket. “I… Okay.” I was a little struck for what to say, my mind unable to keep up with what was going on. “There’s a spare key in the drawer next to my TV… In case I’m not back. Just keep it.” “Um, okay?” “I love you, alright? Get back safe.” He blew me one more kiss, and then he was gone. The sound of his front door slamming sent shivers down my spine, wondering why Harry rushing out of the front door felt like a fucked up summary of our entire relationship, where Harry was too busy to stay in one place and I was left reaching out for the heat of where his body had just been. I sat upright, finally, stroking the tips of my fingers over his side of the bed, praying the audition would just last the morning and I could see more of him before I made the journey home. He didn’t make it back in time.

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Baby. (Mikey Way x Reader)

“’Sup, bitch?” Pete exclaimed loudly as he entered your home through the front door.

The sudden appearance of your friend caused you to jump slightly in your seat on the sofa, the novel you were previously stuck in falling to the floor as you frowned.

“A little warning would’ve been nice,” you mumbled, swinging your legs off of the sofa before bending down to retrieve your book.

Pete scoffed. “Since when do I need to warn you before I come over?” his voice came out slightly muffled seeing as his head was stuck in your fridge, searching for some kind of alcohol.

“Uh, since I got married and moved into an actual house as opposed to a fucking terrible apartment,” you said while making your way over to Pete in the kitchen.

“Hey! Don’t hate on the apartment! We had some really good times there. All those impromptu parties were the best part of everyone’s lives.”

“Yeah, that’s my point. We can’t trash this place with your ‘impromptu parties’, Petey.”

“You’re no fun. What happened to my crazy party-girl best friend?” he asked, letting out a triumphant cheer when he stumbled upon a couple of bottles of beer at the back of your fridge. “Man, you really need to stock up on booze. You’d think Mikey would at least have more than this,” he held up the bottles for emphasis.

“You know that Mikey doesn’t drink that much,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, but you used to,” Pete chuckled.

“Yeah, but I grew up,” you grabbed a bunch of grapes from the fridge before hoisting yourself onto the island. “Unlike some people.”

“Hey, you chose to get married and I chose to live my 20s to the max.”

“You’re turning 30 in a couple of months.”

“Like I said, the max,” he repeated, earning an eye-roll from you, “Want one?” he questioned, holding out one of the bottles.

“No thanks, I’m not drinking.”

“Why? You pregnant or something?” he teased before twisting open the bottle and taking a swig.

You didn’t reply. Instead, you just stared at your friend as you popped more grapes into your mouth.

Noticing your lack of denial about being pregnant, Pete spit out the liquid he had in his mouth.

“Ew,” you scrunched your nose up in disgust before pointing around at all the beer spatter. “You’re cleaning that up.”

“You’re fucking pregnant?!”

You nodded before giggling at the look of utter shock on Pete’s face. “You’re gonna be an uncle! Are you excited?”

“Am I ex- OF COURSE I’M FUCKING EXCITED! OH MY GOD, (Y/N)!” Pete practically threw himself on top of you, nearly knocking you over in the process.

“Well, if this is your reaction, then I can’t wait to see Mikey’s.”

“Wait,” Pete pulled away so that he was looking at you. “You haven’t told Mikey yet?”

“Told me what?”

You and Pete turned to see Mikey standing at the front door, shrugging off his jacket with a confused look on his face.

“Babe, I have some news,” you said while hopping down from the kitchen island and walking over to Mikey.

“Yeah, I figured that much. What’s going on?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Before you could comprehend it, Mikey had scooped you up into his arms and ran into the backyard, laughing happily all the while.

“How long have you known?” he questioned as he hugged you closer.

“A few days,” you smiled, overjoyed by his happiness.

“Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you saw the positive test?!” Mikey set you down onto your feet.

“Because it was 4am and I was scared because knowing you, you would’ve literally screamed it from the rooftops and wow, look what you’re doing – GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

But it was no use. Mikey was climbing the ladder that was mounted against the side of the house from renovations three steps at a time and before you knew it, he was standing on the roof, his hands cupping his mouth so that his voice could be heard more clearly.

“EVERYONE! WE’RE GONNA HAVE A BABY!”

~Week 4~

Sighing as you tried once again to fasten your bra behind your back, you beamed widely at yourself in the mirror when your fifth try proved successful.

Being careful not to move too much for fear of the bra coming undone again, you walked over to the bed and grabbed the shirt you had laid out. Mikey entered the room before you could slip on the shirt and immediately made his way over to you, eyes clearly fixed on your boobs.

“Oh, wow.” he said in awe, groping both breasts.

“Ow, you idiot!” you exclaimed in a mixture of pain and discomfort, swatting Mikey’s hands away rather harshly before crossing your arms over your very tender bust in order to protect it from your extremely handsy husband. “They hurt,” you pouted, looking down at your chest only to see that Mikey’s actions had caused your boobs to once again escape your bra.

Groaning in annoyance, you struck Mikey on his right arm, causing him to let out a tiny whimper. “Now look what you did!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, still rubbing the area where you’d hit him in an effort to soothe it.

“It took me forever to get them to fit and now-“ You burst into tears before you could finish your words and Mikey’s eyes widened at the sudden change in emotion, although his husbandly instincts soon took over and he engulfed you into his embrace.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. Here, I’ll help you get back into it and then we can go shopping for some new ones, alright?”

You nodded into his chest, still crying.

“Good. Maybe then you’ll stop hitting me,” he whispered to himself.

 ~Week 5~

“Baby, I’m just wondering,” Mikey started as he entered your bedroom. “Is there any particular reason you left the tumble dryer on a repeat cycle with nothing inside?”

“Pregnancy brain,” you mumbled as you climbed into bed, the bathroom tap still running behind you.

 ~Week 7~

“Pleaseeeee, Mikey,” you whined, snuggling closer to him while putting on your best puppy dog eyes.

“(Y/N), it’s 3am. I have no desire to leave the warmth of my bed to go down to McDonald’s just because you’re craving a McFlurry.”

“But you didn’t buy me more ice-cream, so it’s kinda your fault.”

“I bought 3 tubs 4 days ago!”

“And I ate them! Now I want more.”

“For fuck’s sake, (Y/N),” Mikey groaned as he begrudgingly dragged himself out of bed, grabbing his wallet, phone and jacket before making his way downstairs, leaving a trail of cuss words behind him.

“I love you!”

 ~Week 8~

You gasped slightly as the doctor squirted the cool jelly onto your stomach, placing the transducer over it shortly after.

“You hear that?” she questioned with a smile. “It’s the heartbeat.”

“Oh my God,” you whispered, laughing deliriously as the realisation of what you were hearing set in. “Mikey, that-that’s our baby,” you gushed, tears welling up in your eyes.

Mikey was at a loss for words, completely dumbstruck by the incredible nature of what was happening inside of you.

“That’s our baby,” he repeated, laughing too before placing a kiss on your temple.

 ~Week 11~

“(Y/N), I’m telling you,” Pete started, leaning in across the red booth of the diner. “After you have this baby, I’ll order you a cherry pie with a hamburger patty and maple syrup and I guarantee you won’t like it.”

“Well, it tastes like heaven right now, so… MMM,” you closed your eyes as you savoured the delicious taste, while Pete just shook his head at you, a look of pure disgust on his face.

 ~Week 19~

“Are you sure about this, (Y/N)?” Mikey asked uncertainly, his fingers hesitantly undoing his belt buckle.

“Yes, Mikey,” you confirmed for what seemed like the fiftieth time in the last 10 minutes. “This is one of the last chances we have before I can’t have sex for who knows how long.” You removed your own shirt.

“I just don’t wanna hurt the baby,” he said, slowly crawling over you.

You rolled your eyes at your husband but couldn’t help but feel a wave of affection at how concerned he was. “You’re not gonna hurt the baby. The doctor said it’s perfectly safe, okay?”  

He nodded.

“Good. Now shut up and do me.”

 ~Week 23~

“So, what are you hoping for?” the doctor asks as she moves the transducer over your swollen belly.

“Honestly, it doesn’t really matter to me as long as he or she is healthy. But I’d be lying if I said that I wouldn’t love a little dress shopping buddy.”

You and the doctor shared a giggle before she turned to Mikey.

“What about you, dad?”

“Taking into account that they say that having a girl is karma for all the things you did when you were younger, I think a boy would be the better option.”

You clicked your tongue and shot a glare at Mikey, earning a chuckle from him as well as from the doctor.

“Well, look’s like you’re out of luck,” she said, looking from the screen to the two of you. “Congratulations, mom. It's a girl.”

 ~Week 29~

Lounging lazily on the couch and flicking through channels, you stifled a yawn as Mikey sat himself next to you.

Positioning himself comfortably, he brought his head down to your stomach, placing a smooch on the right side. Right when his lips made contact with your body, however, the baby let out a huge and unexpected kick, startling Mikey a little and causing you to laugh uncontrollably.

“That little shit just kicked me in the mouth!” he exclaimed in disbelief, joining in with your laughter.

“That’s my girl,” you cooed, rubbing your belly.

 ~Week 32~

“Anndd this one is from-“

“Lemme guess, (Y/B/F)?” you chuckled, noticing the wrapping paper which matched the giant pile of torn fragments to your right, next to around 20 gifts, all from (Y/B/F). “You didn’t need to get me anything else, hon. Really.” You gestured to her other gifts.

“Yes, I did. I’m gonna be the best damned godmother the world has ever seen,” she stated proudly.

“I just hope you’re gonna be this enthusiastic about babysitting, too.”

“Oh, you know I will be, my love. After all, with you and Mikey as parents, the angel is gonna need someone responsible to look up to.”

Laughter filled the room as you shot a glare at (Y/B/F).

“I kid, I kid,” she defended. “Not really.”

 ~Week 34~

“Okay, okay, we’re almost there. No peeking. Mind the step. YOU’RE PEEKING! I SAID NO PEEKING!”

“Alright, alright. Jeez. Such a control freak. I’m glad I chose to marry the other brother.”

“Haha,” Gerard laughed sarcastically. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

You did, and your heart leapt into your throat immediately.

Gerard had done an exquisite job at decorating your daughter’s nursery. The walls were painted all white, except for the one on the right side of the room, where her crib stood. This one was adorned with his drawings of your family along with messages from loved ones, and in the middle was her name.

(Y/D/N) Way.

“Gee… This is… it’s perfect.”

Gerard smiled from ear-to-ear. “That’s good to hear,” he said, pulling you into a side hug while gently rubbing your belly. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s your uncle here. I just wanted to let you know that I love you. Very much. And I can’t wait to meet you.”

 ~Week 37~

“I changed my mind. I’m not going,” Mikey stated, tossing his suitcase onto the couch.

“Yes, you are! I’m not due for another three weeks, Mikey. I’m sure I can handle not having you around for one weekend, especially since you’re only gonna be a half hour away. Besides,” you walked over to Pete and (Y/B/F) and linked your arms in theirs. “If anything goes wrong – which it won’t – I have these two.”

“Yeah, but-“

“No buts, Mikey. You have thousands of fans who are dying to see you and who paid actual money for your stupid band so.. You. Are. Going,” you said, poking him hard into the chest with every word.

“This is a very abusive relationship, you know that?” he pouted.

“Now that everything’s settled,” you said, ignoring his previous comment and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Bye, baby. See you in 3 days.”

 ~2 Days Later ~

“You’re a demon,” Pete said to (Y/B/F), trying to fend her off with a crucifix made from forks.

“I don’t give a shit about what you think, Wentz. I. LOVE. PINEAPPLE. ON. PIZZA,” (Y/B/F) retorted, moaning as she took a bite of pizza that she made sure had a particularly large piece of pineapple on it.

“(Y/N), just tell this crazy person that pineapple does not belong on pizza!”

“Eh, I don’t mind it,” you shrugged.

“WHAT? What drugs are you both on?”

(Y/B/F) and Pete then proceeded to get into a heated argument about pizza toppings.

“Uh… guys?” you squeaked.

They didn’t hear you.

“Guys!”

“What?” they asked in unison.

“Can we have this conversation later? I’m going into labour.”

 ~About 30 Minutes Later~

Thanks solely to (Y/B/F) and her natural maternal instinct, you were able to make your way to the hospital and into the maternity wing where you were currently residing all before your third contraction hit. (Y/B/N) had managed to grab your already-packed hospital bag, drive you to the emergency room, fill in the necessary paperwork, call Mikey and keep you relatively calm all on her own.

Pete started freaking out from the moment the word ‘labour’ left your lips and didn’t stop until you were lying on a hospital bed. You couldn’t say that he wasn’t any help, though. Seeing him panic so much had a weird calming effect on you.

Another contraction hit and the doctor let you know that you were fully dilated and the baby was ready to be born.

“AHHH! WHERE THE HELL IS MIKEY?!” you screamed.

“I’m here, I’m here, baby!”

A sweaty, disarrayed Mikey practically dived into the room, looking like he’d just run a marathon; the rest of the band followed closely behind, all wearing looks of concern.

“I’m here,” Mikey rushed to your side and placed a quick kiss to your forehead. “Now, push, baby.”

You screamed out in agony as you continuously pushed, wanting to get your daughter out of you as soon as possible.

Just when you thought you might pass out from pain and exhaustion, you heard Mikey exclaim in pure joy.

“Oh, my God. There she is!”

 ~

“She looks so much like you, it’s unbelievable,” Mikey whispered while cuddling closer to you and softly caressing your daughter’s tiny hand, gazing lovingly at the small human.

“She’s got Gerard’s nose, though,” you pointed out, ‘booping’ her nose gently.

“You’re right, she does,” he giggled in amazement.

“We’re parents, Mikey,” you said, turning to smile at him.

“Yeah, we are. You did amazing, baby,” he complimented, placing a soft yet loving kiss onto your lips. “I do have one question, though.”

“Mm?”

“The ladder is still mounted to the side of the house, right?”

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x