#and then casual Fridays were canceled forever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

camilasstories · 1 year ago

Text

❝feeling unreciprocated❞ chapter 1 | jungkook x reader

summary: Sleeping with one guy after feeling rejected wasn't a good idea, but sleeping with another one and another seemed to be even worse plan. Especially with your handsome crush behind the wall, who is as confused as you about your ways of coping with a broken heart.

trailer | next chapter

Your phone was buzzing from all the notifications you got after you had turned on wi-fi in your settings. You ignored them and started to scroll mindlessly through your Instagram to kill the time as you were waiting for popcorn to be ready in the microwave.

The anxiety and nervousness were escalating to the point you were bitting your lower lip which became more red and puffy. Like on every Friday night since you and your roommate made an arrangement that once a week you two would organize a small movie-night that nobody else could take part in it. And you weren't exactly sure what was the reason behind you distressing about such a trivial matter, but you fathomed soon enough, with a minor help of your dear friend, it was because of the second arranger of your undertaking.

You sighed as you rubbed your cheek in defense.

It had been already three months since you two ended up living together and for these three precious months you were truly fucked, frankly speaking, but who wouldn't be in your place? Let’s be honest - everyone would lose their mind over this boy sooner or later. Moreover, it wasn’t just your personal opinion as far as you knew, but you were the only one who had to endure this killing pleasure all by yourself. You should be grateful, you thought to yourself with a pity that you couldn’t use the circumstances to your advantage. You just couldn’t figure out how and you were afraid it would stay that way if you kept behaving like a simple coward. On the other hand, it would be super discomforting if you ended up stop talking to each other because of your sweet, silly crush. So you were trying to shut it down once and forever, but with no effects.

"Is it ready?" you jumped a little hearing a male voice behind your back.

"No, not yet".

"And now?"

"No, Jungkook, it's not ready yet” you shook your head to emphasise that he would have to wait just a little bit longer for a 3-minute meal “Just pick a movie, I’ll bring it to you in a moment”.

“Okay, just don’t eat it all”.

“Mhm” you managed to utter while you lowered down your head to stare into the screen, but you kept observing him from the corner of your eye.

He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and grey pants that hung from his hips giving away its oversized cut. He looked casual, but his tattoos elevated the outfit making it look… hot. Not to forget his messy hair that were a bit too long. You liked it, but you were able to hide it, anyway. You weren’t crazy to such a point you would run after him, right?

“You have some stains on your shirt” you had told him before he entered the living room, but he just shrugged his shoulders and made his way to the sofa that happened to be the most expensive furniture in your flat. You pitched in together at the beginning of your moving in. It was his condition, actually, but then he didn’t know you were a girl. Had he known it, he wouldn't have made you chip in, however it was too late to cancel the order. You didn't mind. At least you two were in a happy possession of a brand new sofa, which you used very often. Not in this way, of course.

You put the popcorn in front of him, which made him turn his gaze from his phone at you.

"You're addicted" you said slightly amused.

"I didn't complain when you were using yours" he scoffed and put it away "But okay, mummy" he made sure he stressed the last word.

You knew he was just being cordial, but you were flushed anyway, because of the mummy part. The teasing was unbearable when was done by him, because well, you used to take everything he said too seriously and keep second-guessing what he actually meant. Soon, you realized it needed to stop as you were going mad because of it and the worst part was you was aware his words didn't indicate anything more serious than just a friendly reminder you were his "bro". And it sucked.

You didn't let yourself to make a comment so you just sat in the sofa making yourself comfortable.

"What are we watching?"

"Something random, we've watched almost everything" he left the pilot on the coffee table and stuck a pillow behind his back to have something to lean on "So how was your week, miss smart brain?"

You didn’t have to think for too long about your reply.

"As always. Lectures, then practice and lectures again and... meetings with Gia. I'm just happy it's Friday again" you sighed and folded your arms thinking about the last five days "And you?"

"The same thing. Almost" he chuckled seeing your discontent, grumpy expression "I didn't sit with books ninety percent of my time" obviously, It was an exaggeration, but it might have been true if you wouldn't have Gia by your side. Your best friend.

"So it wasn't the same. I should have known that" you rolled your eyes, but smiled anyway "So..." you waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't bother too much to shower you with details.

"I was at Vixen's with my friends".

It was predictable his place to go to was another new club. Somehow, it suited him. Such places were perfect for him. He was outgoing, open with conversation with newly met people and he just liked the atmosphere of big crowds and loud music. Nothing you could compare yourself to so it was a nice surprise you two got along. Still, you thought there was an abyss between him and you on so many levels that even his friends looked at you oddly the first time you met them, but you were just his roommate. Not his girlfriend he choose.

"You should go one day" you looked at him surprised taking popcorn into your mouth "With Gia, for example".

"Maybe" you changed the topic looking at TV. It would be nicer to go with him this time "You picked a trashy film".

"Hey, it's random. I told you" he pushed your leg with his feet "Get lost!" you just laughed shortly and lied down on the sofa making him choose the floor this time.

"My turn" he murmured something under his breath, but sat on the floor, eventually.

The fact was, you saw each other only one day during the week, on every Friday, of course. Sometimes maybe in the mornings or in the evenings if your schedules allowed that. You totally understood he had his own friends, plan etc. so you weren't disappointed, because you weren't even certain if he saw you as his friend or only as his roommate. You just expected from him a little, little attention.

"Do you want pillows?" you asked noticing he took his place without anything to cover or make himself comfortable.

"No, I'm good" he didn't even look at you while answering your question and took his phone out from his pocket.

That was the hard part in all of this. He wasn't that invested in your friendship, at least he was giving this type of impression, so you had the right to be doubtful when it came to his feelings. Maybe it stood on the level called "roommates, nothing less, nothing more" with an arrow "you will never get to the next level, we're sorry for the inconvenience" next to it, so you were stuck.

His position enabled you to see everything as well as to smell his scent because his head at the level of your face as he was sitting in front of you. If you wanted to have a picture of what it was like - just imagine a really heavy, manly perfume coming right into your nose. It wasn't getting any easier for you, unfortunately. You were melting.

You tried hard to focus on the movie, but the ring tones were successfully preventing you from doing so.

You didn't want to come as being nosy, but somehow you couldn't help yourself so you raised your head from a comfy pillow, so you could have a full view of his phone's screen. He was checking his instagram account as you did earlier, nevertheless it wasn't what made you disturbed.

The texts were one by one showing on his notification bar with a loud sound, so Jungkook turned the silent mode on his phone. You saw him frowning his eyebrows and playing with his lip ring at the same time, which got you to make an ultimate move. You pulled yourself up a little bit so you could follow his actions, he opened the conversation. You knew it was wrong of you to look at his private texts, but he didn't move or change his place so you took it as an allowance to give it a look. Just one, you promised, but you could tell it may not have been the last.

min_bora: hi jungkook! min_bora: it was great to see you at vixen's typing...

It wasn't confusing at all. It was just a normal text, however still a hard thing to swallow, again. It was from a girl, overall, so it made you reckon if he was really with his friends like he had said? Like Jimin or Taehyung. Or Namjoon. It wasn't your business, but still you weren't exactly the most happy person in the world if he really lied to you.

min_bora: you looked so handsome without your tshirt ;) not my words but harin's haha

You almost groaned seeing the last text. What was that? A pub or a social club with stripping? Or even worse - harem, which was an obvious overstatement. You just hoped it wasn't it and he would deny it. Fun thing, it shouldn't have concerned you but it did. Maybe if it happened to be the truth, you would finally get rid of your stupid feelings. Perhaps, it was the key to let it go...

"Did you just look at my fucking texts?" he smirked leaning his head back so he had the picture of your face upside down.

Jungkook saw your empty expression as you had got lost in your thought few seconds earlier. You opened your lips wanting to say something, but you were too cogitative to reply right away.

"No, of course not" you shook your head lowering your gaze, but it seemed like you had a large writing "a liar" on your forehead.

Of course, he didn't believe you as he felt your gaze on his back when he was about to text back so he took a pillow and threw it at your face, while you blushed immediately all over your cheeks. This thing was something he didn't notice to your liking.

"Instead of making fun of me, you could help your friend" he pretended to whine while looking at the messages.

Friend? So maybe you were already on another level, which made you instantly worried about getting friendzoned, but it felt like it already was the thing in your situation.

You weren’t making fun of Jungkook, it was far from it. Curiosity just won over your honour and your morals.

"Difficult task" you held your chin with your one hand, bitting your lips and reckoning if you should say it "I don't know what to do with a text that says you look handsome without your t-shirt".

"Any advice?" he rolled his eyes watching "min_bora" sending him some silly emojis, which didn't get slipped by you.

"Don't take your t-shirt off next time?"

"Oh, you don't say" he hissed "She spilled her drink on me by accident. I had to change".

"You bring your clothes with you?"

"Yeah, gym clothes" he said brushed his hair back "They were in Namjoon's car, I forgot them two days earlier".

"Oh".

jeon_jk: hi bora jeon_jk: to the next one :)

You weren't expecting this kind of text got typed to this girl, but he was a free man. He could do anything he wanted, not like you had something to say in this matter, but this one coming...

min_bora: i was wondering... min_bora: do you have tattoos only on your arm or maybe somewhere lower... ;)

"Are you kidding me?" you mumbled quietly so he couldn't made out what you had said and you covered your face with your hand completely uncomfortable.

And envious at the same time, knowing you wouldn't get the courage to simply ask him for a coffee, yet these girls had all of it. Even the view.

You thought that maybe he would react in some way. Like getting embarrassed that you saw it or something, but no. He was unfazed, like nothing too extraordinary happened. Maybe he got used to it, to attention and it didn't surprise him. He just sighed and closed the conversation down leaving Bora on a read.

Jungkook leaned even more so his head was laying on the sofa and his long hair were within reach of your hand. His eyes were closed and his breathing was calm and steady as if he was ready to take a nap or just thinking heavily.

"Are you okay?" you asked with a tranquil voice not to disturb his peace.

"Yeah" he replied with his eyes closed, but this time the tone he used managed to put you off "Let's just finish this movie".

It was a clear signal something happen or it was just his casual attitude towards random things, like everything was the enemy to him and his job was to brace himself. You never talked about your problems, not even complaining about something more private than your day or how bad the lunch tasted. Everything was kept to yourselves and you didn’t have the nerve to ask him what was the reason behind his changing moods. Maybe he was like that. His nature could be edgy, even by looking at his image anybody could say that. You didn’t dwell on the subject assuming he would prefer it to be talked with his closest friends rather than a roommate.

So you just stuffed your mouth with popcorn contemplating what could be wrong with him until you saw closing credits at the end of the movie.

When it finished, he stood from the floor and helped you with cleaning the mess, but soon he went to his room, got changed. Of course, he didn’t stay that night in a flat which made you sad for a known reason, but who you were to stop him.

Honestly, having this type of a crush was quite a burden if you were the one to speak up. Constantly feeling the strain was exhausting, sometimes you couldn’t sleep and think straight in situations which he was involved in. It wasn’t normal and you wished you could do something with it, because it was getting you nowhere. Maybe if you made the decision but… You didn’t want to ask him out and at the same time you didn’t want to let it go. It was a total rollercoaster of mixed feelings that day by day made you run out of energy.

The rest of the evening was calm as usual and you spent it on your phone waiting for a new story from Jungkook which sometimes he posted on his Instagram, but it didn’t happen. You thought about checking Jimin’s account, but you gave yourself a break.

You took a towel and your pyjamas so you could get a shower and you were on your way to the bathroom when you got a new notification, which you checked right away. In your message box was a text that was totally unexpected.

hyunn_wonn: hi there, love

You looked at it confused bringing your knees close to your chest after you had returned to your bed.

And then not the best idea came to your mind.

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #bts x you #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts imagines

196 notes · View notes

ifmywishescametrue · 3 years ago

Note

i don't know if you're still taking prompts (so please ignore this if you aren't) but i cant stop thinking about your recent buckytony fic (and how much i love breaking up and making up as a trope) - so i was wondering if you'd be up for doing smth else w that trope for buckytony?? maybe they re-unite at a mutual friend's wedding?? and it brings up emotions about their almost wedding?? idk i just really love breaking up and making up as a trope and i really love your writing :))

thank you!! I'm very much up for doing another buckytony break up/make up, plus you deserve nice things for finishing law school - congrats on that!🎉🎉hope you like this one 😊

There's a ring on Bucky's finger.

It's the first thing Tony notices when he walks into the bar for Natasha and Sharon's joint bachelorette party. He stands there in the doorway, frozen and staring until someone clears their throat pointedly behind him, and he mumbles an apology as he moves out of the way.

He thinks about turning around and not coming back, just ditching the event entirely and maybe even the wedding tomorrow, but he tosses the ridiculous thought the second it comes. He promised Sharon when she asked him to be her man of honor that he could handle Bucky being Nat's. Living on the other side of the country afforded him to miss the rest of the events and planning along the way, and he could deal with one day of being cordial to his ex, even if the day comes with walking down an aisle together.

But now there's a ring on Bucky's finger.

The silver catches the light, and it's on prominent display with his left hand wrapped around a beer bottle. It shouldn't be possible for him to have moved on that quickly. Eight months shouldn't be long enough to bury three years of memories. Three years of hopes and dreams and plans for a future built together. Years of love so blindingly intense that it burrowed into Tony's soul to make a home and refused to be evicted just because it was supposed to be over.

Tony wonders what the timeline is. Did he find someone new while Tony was still just beginning to pick up his own scattered pieces? A first date for him while Tony was barely getting out of bed. When was it that he replaced Tony as the last person to have his heart? And how did he find forever in someone else so soon after losing the one he used to call his soulmate?

Natasha notices him first, still hovering near the entrance, and she raises a single eyebrow that calls him a coward. He rolls his eyes at the accusation, though it's accurate. She elbows Sharon to catch her attention, and before he knows it the entire small group is turning their heads his way, giving him no choice but to join them.

It's less bachelorette party and more pre-wedding celebration with the crowd they've gathered, all mutual friends of both brides with no regards for gender traditions that usually come with this night. Tony used to fit in well with them all, back when gatherings like this were just a typical Friday night. But he made himself an outsider between the move to California and the breakup with Bucky. All he has now with most of them is a dead group chat that hasn't been used in months. He wonders which one of them made the new one without him in it.

Sharon is the first to pull him into a hug, then Natasha follows suit. He gets a nod from Sam, a wave from Clint, and what might pass as a smile from Steve. Bucky stares so intensely that Tony can feel his eyes with his back turned, but when Tony looks his way, he pretends to be interested in the floor.

He had a plan before the ring threw him off. Step one should have been the entrance. Head held high, shoulders square, perfect outfit that shows everything off and compliments the Malibu tan he has now. Step two should be nonchalance. A light hearted greeting to everyone, accompanied by an easy grin and relaxed body language, and catching up with subtle brags slipped in. Show them all that he's doing better than he ever was, sitting on top of the world these days, even if most of the time it feels like he's barely above rock bottom.

Step three in his ideal scenario involved Bucky breaking down and begging to get him back. Some versions even had him on his knees for it, with tears running down his face. Others required it to be raining outside, and the cloudless sky ruined that before the ring on Bucky's finger did.

With steps one and three out the window, he tries to salvage step two.

“Hey,” Tony starts, a little too loud. He swallows the lump in his throat and tries again, “Hey, Bucky. It's good to see you.”

Bucky nods, a strained, jerky motion. “Yeah, you too. How, uh, how have you been?”

“Good. Really good, actually. Company just had its highest sales quarter yet, so it’s been a little crazy around there, but good.”

“Good,” Bucky repeats, and there’s a long awkward pause.

“And what about you?” Tony asks, and then because he can’t help himself, he adds, “I see you got engaged. Or, hell, I guess it could be married, even.”

Bucky freezes with parted lips and wide eyes for the briefest of moments, like he wasn’t expecting Tony to know about it or bring it up, and his eyes shift to the ring on his hand and stay there.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “Engaged. Last week.”

Tony ignores the ache in his chest and plasters on a smile like he’s happy for him. “Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know him. Steve introduced us. They work together.”

“So he’s at the museum then? I thought you used to say that you hated all those stuffy guys and Steve was the only one worth knowing.”

Bucky smiles, a fond thing that widens the crack in Tony’s heart. “Yeah, well, I guess I was wrong. Felix is a great guy.”

Tony resists the urge to roll his eyes. Stupid name that probably matches a stupid, punchable face.

Some masochist thing pulls at him to make him keep digging for more information, a twisted need to know even as each word pushes the knife in deeper. He aims for casual, leaning back against one of the high top tables as he asks, “So how long have you been together?”

“Just a couple of months. Kind of fast, I know, but when you’re sure about something, it doesn’t really matter, right? Why waste time waiting?”

“Right, of course,” Tony says, a little flatter than he intends. “So why isn’t he here tonight? Hope it wasn’t to spare my feelings, because it’s really not necessary.”

Bucky falters, “It’s not? You, uh, you’re dating someone, then?”

Tony nods, and he wishes he had grabbed a drink before this so he could hide behind it as he lies through his teeth. “Only a few weeks, though. A little too early to be a wedding date, but I’m sure your guy will be there tomorrow right?”

“Oh, um, yeah, definitely. Why wouldn’t he be, right? There’s no reason I can think of,” Bucky says, stumbling around it. “But tell me more about your thing. Your person. How’s that going?”

Tony shrugs, and he finally pulls off that easy smile he’s been trying for. “Well, it’s not get engaged in a couple of months good, but it’s been really great. We’re taking it slow. Trying not to rush anything and just get to know each other first. I think it could really be something, though.”

“That’s good,” Bucky mumbles. “You deserve something good.”

He isn’t meeting Tony’s eyes anymore, almost like he’s upset that Tony moved on, and the vindictive part of Tony wants to be happy about it, but another part wants to be angry because it isn’t fair. It’s not fair to act like Tony should stay stuck in time, forever longing for him when he already moved on with someone else first. It’s hypocritical and selfish, even if Tony is lying about there being anyone else.

“Well, I’m gonna go get a drink,” Tony says, pushing down every feeling. “Should catch up with everyone else, too, while I’m at it. I’ll talk to you later.”

He heads over to the bar and isn’t surprised when Sharon joins him a moment later, right after he orders a double shot of whiskey. She puts an arm around his shoulder and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tony laughs, running a hand through his hair. “My ex is engaged to somebody else and apparently doing really fucking well. Meanwhile, I’m making up fake boyfriends that I’m taking it slow with, because last week I went on my first real date in eight months and cried in the bathroom in the middle of it. And then, at the end of the night, he literally told me to my face that he didn’t think a second date was a good idea. We weren’t even talking about it, Sharon. He said it unprompted when we were still ten minutes from his apartment, and I was driving.”

Sharon nods slowly as she processes the rant. “He told you he got engaged?”

“Yeah, thanks for not telling me, by the way. It was really fun to get blindsided by it.”

She ignores the complaint to ask, “What else did he tell you, exactly?”

“Oh, just the whole line about how you know when you know, and Felix is such a great guy, and all that bullshit.”

“Felix,” Sharon repeats.

Tony knocks back the rest of his drink and orders another. “Please tell me he’s not better looking than me. Tell me it’s a downgrade. Don’t lie, because I know I have to meet him tomorrow, but please give me something that will make this better.”

“Well, I can guarantee he’s not as attractive as you. But he’s a little too perfect, you know? Like how could this guy possibly be real, he’s so unbelievably perfect,” Sharon says.

“I told you to make me feel better, not worse.”

Sharon shakes her head with a smile, the arm around him tightening into an approximation of hug. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I don’t think they’re going to last. He’s kind of flaky, too. Always cancelling at the last minute and all that. Bet he won’t even show tomorrow.”

The amusement on her face that she’s failing to hide confuses him. He’s starting to feel bad, though, for making the night about him when it should be about her and Nat.

Resolving not to dwell on it anymore, he squeezes the hand on his shoulder and says, “Alright, enough sad drinking, and definitely enough about me. We’re celebrating you and Nat and a lifetime of sickeningly wonderful happiness for both of you.”

Sharon grins, “Hell yeah, we are.”

“Shots?”

“Is that even a question?”

_____________

He wakes up with a headache and hazy memories. Shots of tequila that turned into shots of vodka when Nat got involved, then Clint’s terrible suggestion to try a shot of every liquor they had to offer. He vaguely remembers the round of toasts and drunken impromptu speeches from everyone, locking eyes with Bucky and failing to look away on both their parts. There’s a blur of wandering hands and heated, messy kisses. A bathroom stall turned into a cab ride which turned into his hotel room. He knows what he’ll find next to him when he opens his eyes, and guilt comes in full force.

“I know you’re awake,” Bucky says, voice still rough with sleep. It used to be Tony’s favorite sound in the world. “And I know we’re both sorry about what happened, but pretending to be asleep isn’t fixing nothin’.”

Tony shifts over to his back, and if there was any question before about what happened between them, the all too familiar ache in his body would answer it. He stares up at the ceiling to avoid the acres of bare skin on display next to him.

“You should probably leave,” Tony says to the walls. “I’m sure your fiancé is wondering where you are.”

“I doubt it.”

Tony puts an arm over his eyes, partly to block out the light that makes them ache and partly to hide his face. “Just go, okay? It was a mistake, and it won’t happen again, and we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Was it a mistake?” Bucky asks. “It didn’t feel like one to me.”

He doesn’t answer, and it’s soft and broken when Bucky says his name. Too much for him to handle.

Tony pushes back the blankets and searches for Bucky’s clothes in the mess they’ve made. He finds the shirt first and throws it at him. “You’re engaged, which means it was a mistake.”

His boxers are on the back of the couch, jeans right in front of the door, and they join the pile on Bucky’s lap. “You promised the rest of your life to somebody else, and I’m pretty sure fidelity is supposed to go with that.”

He tosses a shoe in the general direction of the bed, and it hits the nightstand with a loud thud. The second shoe is still in his hand when Bucky gets up and walks over to him, taking it and letting it drop to the floor.

His eyes hold a level of intensity that Tony has spent months dreaming about, and Tony couldn’t look away or move from this spot even if he tried.

“Felix isn’t real,” Bucky says. “I made him up when you asked, because I didn’t want to tell you the truth that I haven’t moved on in the slightest. That I’m so pathetic that I’ve spent the last eight months wearing an engagement ring that I bought for a guy who doesn’t love me anymore because I don’t know how to let him go.”

Tony stops breathing. “What?”

Bucky slides the ring from his finger, holding it between them so Tony can see the inscription. Always yours. He can’t remember the last time he heard the words get spoken.

“When?” Tony asks hoarsely. “When did you get that and why didn’t you ever ask me?”

“About a year ago,” Bucky says, slipping it back on his own finger. He sits back on the edge of the bed and stares down at it, twisting it around. “I thought about doing it on your birthday, but Nat and Sharon had just gotten engaged the week before and I didn’t want to take anything away from them. You were working a lot of late nights after that, and I thought it would be better to wait until things slowed down. You were so tired all the time, and you deserved a better proposal than when you’re falling asleep in the middle of dinner. It never slowed down, though. And then you got that big promotion and somehow we fell apart instead. If I’m honest, I still don’t really know how. One minute I’m getting ready to come with you, and the next you’re telling me not to bother.”

Tony sits down next to him, shoulders touching, and he pulls Bucky’s left hand into his. “You didn’t really want to go.”

“That’s not true,” Bucky says, but Tony shakes his head.

“All you talked about was how much you would miss New York. How much you’d miss your friends and your family and your job. Every day, everywhere we went. Even the fucking hot dog stands got sonnets about them. It really didn’t take a genius to figure out that you weren’t exactly looking forward to leaving.”

“I still would have gone for you,” Bucky argues. “I told you I would go anywhere with you, if it was what you wanted.”

“And then what? You move with me, and you’re miserable all the time, because my job never slows down so I’m still not around as much as you want, except now it’s compounded because you’re in a city that you hate with no one else that you know. You resent me for making you go, and the outcome is the same in the end either way.”

“Or I move with you, and I finally ask you to marry me like I’ve wanted to since almost the day we met. I find new friends and a new job, and even if it’s not perfect, it’s still worth it because at the end of the day I have a husband coming home to me.”

Tony runs his thumb over the ring and murmurs, “I wanted you to be happy. I didn’t think I could do that for you anymore.”

Bucky cups his cheek, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but baby, you’re an idiot.”

“Oh, thanks,” Tony laughs.

“You’re my idiot, if that helps.”

Tony smiles, still fragile but growing more hopeful. “Am I?”

“Always have been,” Bucky says. “Always will be if you stop assuming I’m going to leave you all the time. Let me decide for myself what I’m willing to sacrifice for us.”

Tony nods slowly, then says, “I’m sorry for ending it like that.”

“I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to.”

Tony climbs into his lap, circling his arms around his neck, and Bucky pulls him in closer with his hands on Tony’s hips. The ring is strange to feel against his skin, but also completely right. He wants it to stay there and to mean what it was always supposed to. Wants one of his own to match.

“We can fix it, right? We can be us again?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky says, and Tony’s heart sinks for just a moment. “Is your boyfriend as real as my fiancé?”

Tony laughs again in relief, “Yeah, they’d be a good pair.”

“I knew you had to be lying. You’ve never taken it slow in your life,” Bucky grins.

“Do you want me to start now?”

Bucky flips them over in one fluid motion, and he kisses up his throat as he murmurs, “Absolutely not.”

#my writing #my fic #winteriron #buckytony #winteriron fic #prompt fill #ad1thi

152 notes · View notes

onebatch2batch · 3 years ago

Note

Heyo, dialogue prompts: 14 or 30? 😊

HI THIS WAS FROM FOREVER AGO BUUUUUT that's my m.o. so here we are. Hope you like it!!

And no, I'm never going to stop writing different versions of Frank and Karen getting together, you can't make me :)

14. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

Frank can practically hear David scheming, and he’s proven right when an anthropomorphic mop of hair bends into his line of sight and he says, “Hey, remember in the bunker, when we were still on the run?”

They’re both standing in David’s front yard. Frank’s van is in need of an oil change and a replacement filter and since he’s not keen on anyone else working on his getaway vehicle, he called up David to request use of his paved, suburban driveway. It’s been a few weeks since he’s managed to get over here, and David had instantly agreed on the condition that Frank stay for dinner. It’s a beautiful summer day, even if it’s a little hot, and he’s feeling a little off-kilter from the sounds of children playing all around. It’s so painfully normal that for a moment he’d regretted asking, and then David had offered him a drink. The taller computer genius doesn’t know shit about cars, so he’s alternating between fetching more beers and talking Frank’s ear off. It’s been about an hour now, and Frank has slowly relaxed into the background noise.

“Yeah,” Frank responds dryly around the flashlight between his teeth. He’s elbow deep in grease and not really interested in where this line of questioning is going to go, but David has other ideas.

“Uh huh. You know, when you got yourself on the news after that kid held Karen hostage?”

If Frank is affected by the name, all David notices is a sharp glance. “Yeah.”

“And how you freaked out and begged for my help and said she was family?”

Frank straightens and sets the flashlight down on the bumper of the car. “You got a point, Lieberman? I’m busy.”

“Yeah, I have a point. Was that all just bullshit, or what?”

They stare at each other. Frank’s jaw ticks.

“...what.”

“Thought so.”

“No, what?”

“Well you made this huge declaration and then almost got yourself killed trying to rescue her so--”

“God damn it, Lieberman, you’re never going to let that go, are you--”

David shakes his head, exasperated. “I mean, we haven’t even gotten to meet her yet and it’s been six months since Madini used her government wiles to give you a new identity--”

Frank scowls. “It’s none of your--”

The other man cuts him off quickly, hands up. To Frank’s immense displeasure, the other man looks less cowed and more placating. “I’m just saying, invite her to dinner next week. What harm is there? Maybe something good might happen to you for once, god forbid.” His friend stares him down, using every couple of inches of height to try and look intimidating. Of course it doesn’t work, but Frank is too busy thinking about having a family dinner with Karen, with his friends, like a normal person. Like a couple. He realizes too slow that David is leering at him, pleased.

“David, shut the hell up.”

“You’re blushing. Is that a yes? I’ll tell Sarah.”

Karen doesn’t question it when Frank calls her up after half a year of radio silence. She asks if it's a casual dress dinner and what kind of wine to bring, and then announces she’s got to go and she’ll see him Friday at six sharp.

He doesn’t know if that’s better or worse than her just telling him to shove it.

Friday creeps up on him, and by the time he parks outside of her apartment it hasn’t really sunk in that he’s about to take Karen Page to a domestic dinner in the suburbs. Because it’s definitely not a date, even though it kind of is. It’s the stuff he used to do with Maria and the kids all the time when he was on leave; double dates and cook outs and all that crap. He’s rusty as hell and usually shit company, but they keep asking him back. And now, he’s throwing Karen into the mix.

It’s a feeling similar to being shot in the head and waking up in a hospital room. Disorienting and uncomfortable as hell.

He picks her up in the van, leaning against the side of it as he waits. The Lieberman’s neighborhood is outside the city, about a twenty minute drive. It’s going to give them plenty of time to talk, and he’d barely restrained himself from looking up conversation starters online before leaving his place. He doubts there’s any suggestions for a vigilante-cum-construction worker who’s picking up a date he’s spoken a handful of words to for the first time in six months. He’s just considering cancelling the whole thing when the door to her building opens and she steps out.

He’s seen Karen a lot of ways. He’s seen her in pencil skirts and heels and blouses, in tshirt and jeans, bruised and bloody. He’s never seen her in a sundress with her pinked shoulders bare to the world and strappy sandals on her feet. Her hair is in a long braid over her shoulder. She looks fucking resplendant. Absolutely divine. Fucking poetry in motion.

He’s fucked.

“Hi,” she greets, coming to a stop in front of him. She’s got a bottle of wine in her hands. Her eyes punch little, individual question marks into his skin when she searches his face.

“Hey.” He inhales, bracing for her reaction. His throat closes up when he gets a whiff of her perfume. So familiar from the handful of times he’s been close enough to smell it--something soft and floral, something that makes his head swim. He thinks back to that moment so many months ago, swaying together in the elevator, her skin against his, her perfume subtle under the metallic tang of blood.

Karen doesn’t immediately go for interrogating him. She only lifts the bottle in her hand. “I brought a white, is that okay?”

Wary relief loosens the knot at the top of his spine. He nods, pushing off the car to open her door. “Sure.”

When Karen climbs in, carefully arranging her skirt around her, the dark interior contrasting with the soft yellow of her dress, Frank thinks about a conversation with Curtis all those months ago. Wonders when the kick is coming.

They spend the first ten minutes looking out separate windows and listening to the radio. After that, Karen starts talking like she’s made her mind up about the evening is going to go. She asks him how he’s been, if he’s gotten a job, how Dinah is, what the Liebermans are like. Nothing is accusatory. They could be old friends passing one another on the street, the way she’s talking. Almost like she’s talking to a scared dog. Coaxing it out of a corner.

Guess he deserves that.

By the time he pulls onto the appropriate street, it almost feels normal. They’ve fallen into a familiar back and forth that’s easy to keep up with, and when he opens her door she gives him a small grateful smile, accepting his hand on the way down.

He’s not disappointed when she lets go to straighten the fabric of her dress. He’s not.

As always, the Lieberman household is an explosion of domesticity. There’s shoes on the stairs, a sweet smelling candle burning on the coffee table, toys and books strewn over the floor. Pictures line the walls. When Frank knocks on the door, Zach opens it like he’s been waiting for them.

“ Hi, Pete!” he greets excitedly, and then his eyes land on Karen. “Who’s that?”

“Hello, I’m Karen Page.” She crouches down to look him in the eye and smiles. “You must be Zach, right?”

He flushes, twisting his fingers nervously. “Yeah. Are you Pete’s girlfriend?”

They’re saved from answering by a sudden, high pitched shriek. “Frank!!”

Karen manages to stand out of the way just in time for Leo to come barrelling down the stairs directly into Frank, hugging him tightly around the middle.

“Frank, Dad says you were here Saturday but you were gone before I left Ann’s house!!” she pulls away and waves a book at him. “I’m reading the book you told me about!”

He grins down at her. “I waited around for ya, but your mom said you wouldn’t be home until later. How’s the book, huh?”

She scrunches her nose. “I don’t know yet. I’ll let you know. Are you Karen?”

Karen laughs. “I sure am. Leo, right?”

“That’s me. Come on, my mom is in the kitchen.” She nudges Zach and then four of them head into the other room. Sarah Lieberman is standing behind the kitchen counter, chopping up a head of lettuce. When they walk in, she beams at them.

“Hey guys, welcome! Hang on, let me finish this. Pete, David’s out in the garage trying to fix the sprinklers. Can you--?”

Frank rolls his eyes. “Say no more.”

He lifts his brows at Karen, but she gives him a jerk of her head. Frank huffs and stalks off after kissing Sarah on the cheek, Leo trailing after him talking about sprinkler systems and tools. Zach joins his mother behind the counter and peers at Karen curiously. She sets the bottle of wine down.

“So Karen!” Sarah exclaims, dumping the lettuce into a bowl. “Let’s get you a glass of wine and chat. How’s that sound?”

They end up on the patio furniture. After completing the salad and sides, Sarah turns on the grill and then ushers them to the corner of the patio, refilling their glasses.

“So,” she starts, and peers at Karen over the rim of her glass. “I’m going to be forward, but I get the feeling you’ll appreciate that. What’s the deal with you and Pete? Sorry--habit. Frank.”

Karen could have guessed this was coming, even if she expected a little more subtlety. And Sarah’s right, she appreciates the bluntness. It gives her a chance to answer in kind.

“I don’t know.” She runs a finger over the rim of her glass, frowning. “I haven’t--we haven’t spoken in...a while. Six months, actually. And the last time I saw him..well, it didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. I thought I scared him off, actually.”

“How so?”

And the story falls out of her mouth, in pieces. She hasn’t spoken to anyone about Frank, about her feelings for him--the good or bad--or about that afternoon in the hospital. “--and I thought...I thought maybe he would finally kiss me.” She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. “And then he pulled that I’m not a hero bullshit and that’s the last I saw of him. Until he called this week.”

Sarah rolls her eyes. “That sounds like him. Honey, did you know when we first met he was gathering information on David?”

“Ah, yes. I was the one who found David for him.” She grimaces. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be! We’re lucky he came looking. Without him…” she shrugs. “I would still be a widow. And my kids still wouldn’t have their father. I’m just trying to say he may do things backwards, but he ends up doing things for the right reasons. Even if it takes him time to figure that out.”

Dinner goes well. Dinner goes really, really well. Not that Frank was worried--there isn’t a person alive who can sit down with Karen Page and at the very least admire her. The Liebermans fall in love with her immediately. The kids demand that she stay for a board game after dinner. Leo brags about her science project. Zach shyly asks if Karen likes football. Sarah drills her with questions about her job. David keeps her laughing while stupid jokes and send Frank knowing glances throughout dinner that makes Frank want to throw peas at him.

Karen is charming, sweet, and great with the kids. She gets along with David and Sarah, and sends him warm, unsure smiles until dessert.

They play Apples to Apples, and the kids decimate. Karen is a close third. Frank loses terribly, but he’s still busy ruminating over the warm feeling in his chest at the cacophony of noise that surrounds him as everyone submits to another peal of laughter to notice.

“Frank,” Leo says innocently once they’ve put the board game away and Sarah has told the kids it’s time for bed. She stands in the doorway to the kitchen and looks at him sternly, hands on her hips. “Please bring Karen around more. It’s not fair that you get to hog her and we’ve just met.”

“Leo, that’s Miss Page to you.” Sarah tries for sharpness but ends up laughing. “Off to bed. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

“Bye Miss Page!” the kids chorus, and then it’s just the adults.

“Great kids,” Karen laughs. “Smart, too. You’re in trouble.”

Sarah sighs and pats her husband’s cheek fondly. “Yeah, we know. Somehow both of them got his brain.”

David chuckles, turns quickly to press a kiss to his wife’s palm. “At least they didn’t get my hair,” he jokes.

Karen sneaks a glance at Frank, then quickly looks away. He catches it, just briefly, as does David.

“Sarah, we should probably make sure the kids are actually brushing their teeth. I’ll tackle Leo if you tackle Zach, tag team it? We’ll be right back, guys.”

It’s quiet in the kitchen after that. Karen takes a sip of her wine and taps her fingers. There’s something on her mind, he can tell. When she doesn’t say anything he leans forward to capture her gaze. “What is it?”

“Why now, Frank?” Karen asks.

The conversation he’s been dreading. A feeling of shame bubbles up so suddenly it nearly knocks him off his chair. He scratches his neck for no reason other than to expel the nervous energy building in him.

“I didn’t want to…” There’s no use pretending like they’re talking about something else, not when she’s staring at him like that. Like she's been waiting all night for this conversation while he’s been tricking himself into thinking it may not happen. His finger dances restlessly on the table top. “I didn’t want to get you sucked back in.”

“Into what?” She arches a brow. “You?”

“Me. My life. My goddamn baggage. I know you deserve better than me.” He clears his throat. “So I wanted you to have a chance to live your life without my ghosts hanging around.”

“Frank Castle,” Karen sighs, exasperated, “please don’t tell me you’re making decisions for me. And that still doesn’t answer my question--why now?”

His expression tightens. “C’mon Karen. I’m just tryin’ to keep you safe--”

“How many times do I have to tell you--”

“As many as it ta--”

“Frank--” David steps into the kitchen, Sarah in tow. They pause, looking between the two people seated at the table awkwardly. “Oh, are we interrupting something?”

“No, David. Thank you both for tonight. I think I should be going.” Karen stands and looks at Frank. “I have loved you for two years, Frank. No amount of avoiding me or trying to protect me is going to change that. Excuse me.”

And then she walks away.

He catches up to her just down the street. As soon as he sees that familiar head of blond hair he pulls the van over and hops out, jogging to catch up. Karen glances at him and then pauses, as if waiting for something.

“Let me drive you home,” he asks. “Please.”

He doesn’t take her home straight away; she doesn’t ask. Frank drives until he finds a spot overlooking the water. The heat has finally broken and a cool breeze comes in through the open window, stirring Karen’s hair. He shuts off the engine. They sit in silence while he tries to decide what to say.

“I guess I should start by apologizing,” he says finally, tapping the steering wheel. He’s past nervous, he just wants to fix his own screw up. “I’m sorry, Karen. I don’t want to make any decisions for you. I should have--I should have talked to you about it. I should have started this conversation a long time ago.”

“So, start it.” She’s watching him, waiting. There’s a tense expression on her face--like she’s either trying not to cry, or trying not to smile. Or tell him off. He’s not sure which, yet.

Frank clears his throat. “Okay. Uh. I’m not gonna make excuses, I’m just gonna tell you what I know. I know that I have done some shit, and I’m going to continue doing that shit. I’m not ever gonna be normal. I know that you’re smart as hell, and you check me, and you’re a fucking force of nature. I know that I have been telling myself that you deserve more than some--fuckin’ vigilante who wakes up to nightmares more than he doesn’t. I know you deserve to be safe and happy. You deserve more than I can give you. But uh,” he takes her hand cautiously, waits for her to pull away, relaxes when she doesn’t, “...I wanna try.”

“You gotta mean it, Frank,” she says, voice watery. “You better fucking mean it.”

“I mean it. I swear to Christ, I mean it.”

She pulls her hand away and for a millisecond, he thinks he’s said something wrong. Then she’s unbuckling her seat belt and clamoring over the armrest into his lap. It’s not the most majestic first kiss he’s ever had (of which there are few) but her breath is hot on his lips and her fingernails scrape gently over his scalp as if entreating him closer. Frank makes a low groan that he hasn’t heard from himself in a long time--too long--and then Karen shifts and his breath catches in his throat. The heat of her, all wrapped up in his arms, her hair falling over one shoulder as she peppers his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw with the tiniest of kisses.

He could have ruined this without even knowing. He almost ruined it before it even happened.

“I do want you, you know,” Karen murmurs against the skin of his jaw, fingers grasping his shirt. “All of you.”

“I know.”

“Does that scare you?”

He pushes gently until he can look her in the eyes. “A little,” he admits. “I don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“You’re doing okay so far,” she says, smiling. “Now that you’ve pulled your self-deprecating head out of your ass.”

“Took me long enough.” He cradles the back of her head in one hand, drawing her closer until their lips meet again. They’re both uncomfortable at the weird angle but it’s not until the horn beeps once, gaining the attention of a woman walking her dog, that Karen reluctantly returns to her seat.

They work to catch their breaths, watching the water.

“The Liebermans aren’t upset I left so--...abruptly, right?”

“Nah,” Frank chuckles, grasping her hand. He finds an indescribable amount of comfort in brushing his thumb over the ridges over her knuckles. “Actually, I think they like you better for it. Sarah almost chased me out of the house with a goddamn spatula.”

“I knew I liked her. Take me home? I’ll make coffee.”

“It’s a date.”

Frank’s phone lights up that night. If he were to reach an arm over and hold it up to see, David’s text would read, WELL?? Did you get the girl, Lloyd Dobler?

But he doesn’t. He tugs Karen closer and goes back to sleep.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastle fanfic #my writing #answered #cant-think-of-anything-creative

39 notes · View notes

sooibian · 4 years ago

Text

IRS and Prejudice

Pairing: CEO!Minseok x fem!employee Reader

Genre / Themes: Fluff!!! Frenemies to (maybe) Lovers? Office AU with some references to ‘The Office’, flirtatious, cat-whisperer, Aries Minseok vs Aries reader!

Description: In which Kim Minseok is nothing like other bosses. Nothing.

A/N: happy birthday to mochi ari! @his-mochi-cheeks 💗

Word count: 2.7k (written in a state of delirium eeeek)

You quickly hit Alt+Tab on the resume that you sat updating for the umpteenth time as the sound of heels click-clacking against the floor grew closer.

“My office,” said your immediate supervisor the moment you looked up at her, a well practised unfazed expression crossing your face. If switching between applications at lighting speed were an Olympic sport, you were certain you’d score nothing less than a gold medal. Yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a niggling doubt about having been caught in the act.

You gave her a slight nod in response, lips stretched into a thin line. Smoothing out the wrinkles in your red and black plaid shirt (the one you wore on most casual Fridays since you could hardly be bothered with your appearance at work; despite the feminist within you, the dull back office team discouraged you from making the effort), you followed her into her office with your best businesslike gait while your mind made up a million excuses for what her keen eyes might have found on your 24-inch screen.

“Sit,” the middle aged woman commanded, resting her hands on her hips. Leaning against her teakwood desk, she crossed her legs at the ankles, pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, and cleared her throat. It’s how she’d fidget when she was on the edge about something.

You imagined your expression if a camera was to pan to you, cinéma vérité. Indulging your curiosity, you shrugged your shoulders with a confused look on .your face

“Everything okay?” You mustered in your best Pam Beesly impression.

Your supervisor let out a deep sigh and answered your question with a more awkward one, "When was the last time you submitted cash reports to the IRS?”

You froze into a still frame.

One of the major reasons you wanted to change jobs was because innumerable responsibilities that were entirely unrelated to your department had been carelessly plonked upon your shoulders. Submitting monthly cash reports to the IRS should have ideally been a task of the receivables department and not shifted onto someone incharge of warranties.

“I - I - ,” you started by trying to justify your negligence before even attempting to answer her question but honestly, you didn’t even want to think about when you last submitted those reports and there was absolutely nothing you could say in your defense.

You’d messed up. Big time.

“Ten months. Ten months is not a small amount in penalties,” she said in her quietest tone as you struggled to fight back angry tears. You’d been with the company for over six years now but it was the first time you’d been accused of laxity. It felt like a punch in the gut.

She turned on her heel to take her seat - movements deliberately slow, allowing you some time to regain your composure. With her eyes on her phone, she leaned back in her chair and said with a sense of finality in her voice, “You know what you have to do.”

Head hung low and eyes lined with tears, you walked out of her office muttering all the things you didn’t say in your defense. The long and short of it was that this duty should’ve never fallen into your lap in the first place. As you paced in the direction of your cubicle (with twenty sets of curious eyes on your back), a pair of hands suddenly gripped your shoulders and a dulcet voice sang, “Careful, Warranties.”

At this point, you were ready to rip your hair out. Looking up you met CEO Minseok Kim’s bright, catlike eyes as he stood at a hair’s breadth distance from you, smelling of expensive cologne - the kind that was equivalent to several months of your salary, and coffee. He always smelled like coffee and in your opinion that was his only redeeming quality.

His handsome face that every woman and man in the office fawned over was a source of your annoyance - you didn’t care for cocksure people at all and he was the uncrowned king of arrogance. He took over the reins of a used car dealership from his father upon his retirement - it was nothing too fancy - yet he enjoyed strutting around the office as if he managed a multinational conglomerate.

It was his younger sister that did the real work. She managed the more important businesses while Minseok had been handed the responsibility of just one company and from your (and the Sales Team Lead Baekhyun's) standpoint, he wasn’t doing a marvellous job at it.

Your Aries energy didn’t permit you to apologize for nearly butting heads with him so you feigned a polite smile and side-stepped to your right and he simultaneously side-stepped to his left, his every little wrong move bolstering your frustration level. It happened again and again and again until he bowed ever so slightly, stretched his arm out and said, “Please,” gesturing for you to leave first, the corners of his mouth curled up in a wide, gummy grin.

What was he so happy about all the time?

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he winked at you in response. You immediately made a mental note to find out if you could report the CEO for improper behaviour. You had a full-blown list that started with his attire - should a CEO be allowed to dress in hoodies, skinny jeans, and comfortable sneakers while the rest of you suffocated in the restraints of formal clothing for four days of the week?

Huffing, you slumped in your chair and texted your aunt informing that you wouldn’t make it to barbecue night and immediately flipped your phone to silent to avoid seeing her colourful messages berating you for the last minute cancellation.

Next, you aggressively typed ‘IRS CASH STATEMENTS’ in big block letters into the sticky notes app as a reminder of the humiliation you experienced today.

***

When you last checked time, it was noon.

The sun had long gone down since then as you tried to wrangle customers’ social security numbers out of the ever-so-reticent-to-share-information receivables department who were all packing up for the day. You were this close to socking them in the jaw but you still maintained a courteous smile and pleaded with them throwing in tonnes of cringey corporate jargon, “Please, I just have three more reports to go and I’d really appreciate your prompt help with the information.”

Suddenly, a familiar cheery voice fell upon your ears, “What’s going on?”

You were surprised to find Minseok still in the office but also extremely grateful for his presence because his single sideway glance at Angela achieved what your five emails and three verbal requests failed to.

Furiously typing away on her keyboard, she said through gritted teeth, “I’ve sent them over.”

Minseok gave you a casual two-finger salute and nearly went skipping back to his ...no, not his but to your immediate supervisor’s now empty, glass-paned office - where you could see him directly and he you - the three walls of your cubicle doing nothing to keep you out of the periphery of his blatant staring and his trademark cheeky grin that lit up his ridiculously handsome face.

Shifting uncomfortably in your seat you returned his smile but not with your eyes. You hated the effect he had on you - making you, a grown woman, blush like a schoolgirl under his self-assured gaze. Minseok was nothing like a CEO - he dressed casually, talked to anyone and everyone like he’s known them forever. He’d come into work regularly after prolonged dry spells only to disappear again. His laidback attitude did no favours to your opinion about him.

To pointedly avoid Minseok you put your head down on your desk on the pretext of catching a little break.

… big mistake.

***

You woke up with a start to the soothing and inviting aroma of... home. Opening your eyes to cinnamon bread drizzled with cream cheese on your desk felt like a fever dream until Minseok rolled his chair forward in your direction and you instinctively backpedaled. Clutching his stomach he broke into a vast roar of laughter while offering you a paper napkin with his other hand.

Brows furrowed, you stared at him quizzically as sleep continued to irritate your eyes and the mark of the ballpoint pen you fell asleep on, niggled at your cheek. Hesitantly, you took the napkin from his hand and dabbed it around your eyes and he shook his head in response, pointing to the annoying curled up corner of his own mouth.

“You were drooling,” he guffawed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Upon noticing that you immediately grew conscious about your appearance, he waved his hands frantically and added, “It’s no problem… I drool too, haha..in fact it’s ...umm..”

You glowered at him and he instantly looked away allowing you to fix your face as his fingers impatiently drummed away on your desk.

The clock struck 7:53 p.m.

Your last meal had been sometime before noon. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve been grateful for the little snack Minseok had brought you - it was an uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture from someone like him but you’d been expecting your period in a week’s time which made you unusually ravenous.

Lips pursed and head tilted to the side, he handed you a bottle of water which you gulped down within a matter of seconds while steadily growing wary of your ultimate boss’ intentions. But you pivoted your attention to prioritizing. First, you’d wolf down the delicious cinnamon bread and then think about whether you were going to walk out of this office on your own two feet or as a human-skin suit on Minseok’s well defined back.

“Thank you for the snack,” you said to him with a forced smile, “I’ll get back to my reports now.” As you swivelled your chair to face the monitor, his hand hooked at the armrest and he spun you back around towards himself.

“What’s the rush, Warranties?” Resting his chin in his hand, he wondered with a quirked brow and a smile teasing the edges of his plump mouth.

It was not your place to ask what your boss was doing in his own office at 8 p.m. on a Friday night, especially one that hardly ever came in to begin with. He could clock in and out at his own whim and sit wherever he liked even if it meant being an utter inconvenience to someone on a stringent deadline but you took your shot anyway. Doing nothing to mask the sarcasm in your tone, you said to him, “Minseok, if you came into work everyday, you wouldn’t have to stay back so late, you know.”

Unfazed, he responded, “But my schedule doesn’t allow me to come into work everyday.”

Schedule?

You decided not to stretch this conversation longer than necessary, especially not after his ridiculous response. Drawing in a deep breath, you said, “I just have five reports left to finish, Minseok. Maybe we can talk later.”

“I run an organization involved in wildlife rights and care,” he explained anyway, rummaging the pockets of his jeans.

No shit, you scoffed. If only Minseok Kim could get any more predictable. A not-for-profit organization was every rich kids guide...no facade...no scam.. to make it seem like they actually did something.

Handing you a card, he continued, “It requires me to travel extensively - last month I was in a park in South America, working with this one puma, Elsa. She was a cage cat who got so used to the confines that she wouldn’t come out of the cage for walks in the jungle because she didn’t like anyone touching her collar, so we couldn’t attach a rope to walk with her. But, I think I’m somewhat of a genius and a cat-whisperer. Within three to four weeks, we managed to get her out of the cage.”

He pulled his phone out next, brought his chair closer to yours and started swiping through the picture gallery to show you a magnificent puma walking around the park as if she were its reigning queen. He resumed the story proudly, “Now she walks every single day, without a rope around her neck. And she’s very, very loving and affectionate.” His face lit up with awe and admiration for Elsa.

Probably you'd misunderstood Minseok…just a little. His passion about his organization did something to favourably change your opinion about him but that didn't mean you didn't have your immediate supervisor and the IRS to answer to anymore.

"Why are you telling me all this?" You asked, covertly moving closer to your workstation.

"We have a vacant position in Treasury." He answered and you immediately stopped dead in your tracks.

Mouth agape, you exclaimed, "You did not just try to poach me from your own company! Minseok you don't cease to surprise me -"

With a smirk on his face, he gave you finger guns. "That’s always been the goal, Warranties!"

"I still have five-

"Three..you have only three reports left. How stupid do you think I am?”

Caught in a lie, you could do nothing to save face so you simply pivoted your chair only to be forcefully twirled back by his strong arms again.

“Now what?" You asked, letting out a groan.

With his foot on one leg of the chair base, he pushed you back towards your desktop and said with a voice laced heavily with his trademark sass, "Check your inbox first."

Grumbling under your breath, you said something along the lines of ‘what does a CEO do anyway’. You then refreshed your inbox, impatiently waiting for an email of several MBs to load as Minseok watched you with an expression of victory painted across his features.

Your mouth fell open to find perfect to the t cash reports for the last three months which made you instantly regret your snide remarks.

Minseok snapped you out of your reverie with his smooth voice, “I may not know much of what a corporate CEO is supposed to do but I do how to get work done. Angela was more than happy to do this for a ‘team leader’ nameplate on her desk.”

Struggling to hold his compelling gaze, you muttered, “I don’t know how to thank you...”

“But I do!” He quipped.

“Of course, you do,” you sighed.

“Let me join you for barbeque night at your aunt’s..i’m sure they won’t mind you bringing a friend along?”

Before you could begin looking for a bug in your cubicle, he explained, “I caught a preview of her message on your phone while you were happily tucked away in dreamland.”

“You - you - that’s an invasion of privacy!” You lambasted him.

Stifling a yawn, he leaned back in his chair and said casually, “I was bored. Besides, privacy is a myth in today’s day and age...just like democracy, the importance of drinking eight glasses of water a day, the goldfish memory, or the thing about houseflies -”

“Okay, okay! I get it! Privacy is a myth. You - you can join us, I guess,” you interrupted him.

With widened eyes he emphasized, “Unless you don’t want me to -”

No matter how much and how often Minseok irked you, he was a charmer. You knew your aunt and your cousins would love having someone like him join in the get together and it really wouldn’t hurt your reputation to bring your boss, especially one like Minseok, along at a family event. You also couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospects of working in an NPO’s treasury department.

“You know that’s not what I meant -” You replied, eyes on the monitor as you double checked the email you’d drafted for your immediate supervisor.

“So you want me to come along?” He asked in his flamboyantly flirtatious tone.

Ignoring him, you hit send only after adding a little smiling emoji. Shutting down your system, you picked up your coat and answered with a genuine smile this time, “I’m driving.”

************

A/N: the story about puma Elsa is real! i’ll link it in one of the rb’s for those interested :)

#exosnet #exowritersnet #exo fanfic #minseok fanfic #xiumin fanfic #xiumin fluff #exo fluff #minseok fluff #exo oneshot #minseok oneshots #xiumin oneshots #xiumin scenario #exo scenarios #exo x reader #minseok x you #exo x read #xiumin x reader #minseok x reader #xiumin x you

64 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 4 years ago

Text

One - pt. 02 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend’s wedding day has come and you bring Rafe as your date.

A/N: Jumping ahead four months with a flash back included cause I can lol.

One Thing Right Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

△ ▽ △ ▽

The song that was playing in the background of the dinner was slowly in-graining itself in Rafe’s mind. He was positive that he would wake up tomorrow morning with that song ruminating in the back of his brain despite the fact that he hadn’t even given it his full attention. People on either side of him, sans the empty chair that his suit jacket was draped over, were chattering in a lull hum of conversation, all acquaintances of the bride, like you were.

You were not sitting, instead you were by the ridiculously small table set up at the top of the ballroom, at the edge of the dance floor, with enough flowers draped around it to start an arboretum. You were squatting just enough to chat while staying relatively close to standing and Rafe was watching you as you and the bride talked over something meaningless. She’d called you over and apparently you had to go, as he understood it.

You weren’t the only thing keeping his attention though. He knew the groom. He hadn’t mentioned it on your first date, or your second, or now, four months later when he spent a ridiculous amount of time at your apartment. He hadn’t mentioned it in case you didn’t remember but he remembered you. He remembered that night at the party and back at his apartment and breakfast the next morning. Rafe could remember every detail of it but, most importantly, he had asked a friend of a friend about you afterward, after you didn’t call him. Out of curiosity he asked and found out you were back with your boyfriend and there he was now, marrying some other woman. He knew this guy, staring at you as you talked to his now bride.

When you stood up fully, shifting the end of your dress where you’d stepped back into it, Rafe sat up a little more. He watched you walk back to the table, smiling at him when you caught him watching you. Being with you now, even after the first date at Menton’s, he had to admit that he was glad you never called him back in college. He was an idiot back than, reminiscent of your ex he imagined, and he would’ve never been what you needed him to.

“She wanted to know who you were,” you supplied, sliding into the seat that his suit jacket was saving, moving as close to him as two chairs would allow. He couldn’t stop himself from hoping that you would always want to sit that close. You leaned in so no one else at the table could hear you, “I told her I paid for you, does $100 sound like too low of a going rate?”

The slow smile that overtook his face at your joke was infectious and you smiled back. “100 for an hour?”

“Oh no for the whole night.” You teased, “do you charge extra for after dinner?”

“I’ll cut you a deal,” he joked, kissing you when you tilted your head back slightly.

He wasn’t sure if it was because he just wasn’t as immature as he used to be or if it was you but he felt himself paying attention more. Learning all the little movements and expressions you had. He remembered you from college because he’d desperately wanted another chance with you. It was cliché to admit, and he doubted he ever would, but there had been something about you, about that night, that he’d wanted to freeze and live inside of. It panned out that you went back to your boyfriend and Rafe had, up until four months ago, always imagined that it lasted. That the two of you got married young, that you probably had adorable kids running around that were half you and half someone else. That you had everything you wanted in life. He had never let himself consider another possibility and then you were messaging him and you didn’t seem like you remembered and there was no way he was going to screw up a second chance by reminding you.

“How can you not like Boston?” You asked, handing over his cup of coffee as you sat down beside him on the couch. He had texted you earlier in the evening to cancel what would’ve been your fifth date, telling you he was swamped with work and he had to stay in.

Usually you would have just said that was fine and found anything else to do for the evening but it had been a week since your fourth date and as ridiculous as it sounded you really just wanted to spend time with him, in whatever capacity he had to offer. So you texted him back and asked how ‘mobile’ his office was and offered to make him dinner if he came over.

Whatever you were feeling seemed to resonate with Rafe too because if it had been anyone else he would’ve written them off as being clingy. But he hadn’t wanted to cancel in the first place and your offer to still have him over was like a gateway. He was already packing up his laptop and files as he texted you back.

You made spaghetti and salad and a ricotta dip that you’d found on Tasty once and mentioned that you could eat entirely on your own. Dinner was casual, just the two of you hanging out on the couch and eating, talking occasionally when he surfaced from work. He’d dressed nice for the last four dates, all dinners at higher-end restaurants that you couldn’t have afforded on a teaching salary.

“Can’t believe the first guy you actually go out with on Tinder is fucking rich and you already know he’s great in bed.” Nina had bitched when you had told her about the first four dates. It was her constant complaint, reiterated in different ways each time you talked about Rafe.

Tonight he looked more like the guy you hooked up with at Duke. He was just in jeans and an old college shirt, and you resisted the urge to tell him that you went there too, and his hair wasn’t styled back like he usually wore it. He just looked comfortable, even more so sitting on your couch working, Fivel having hoped up to lay beside him. Aside from Nina’s husband, who Fivel changed his mind about on a daily basis, your dog had little interaction with men but he seemed perfectly content with Rafe.

Dinner ended and you prolonged the evening with coffee, bringing you a cup while he lamented about living in Boston. “I know it can be expensive-“

“It’s not that,” Rafe shrugged, taking the mug from your hands and leaning back against the cushions of the pink velvet couch. Was it a bit much, especially with a dog? Sure, but who didn’t want an instagramable apartment. Ian had hated the pink velvet and he told you so when you bought it and everyday until he dumped you. “I hate the weather, beach isn’t the same as down south.”

“I‘ll give you that we’re running out of beach days but, the snow is awesome!” You argued, “plus I get snow days off.”

“Not all of us are teachers.” Rafe replied, turning his head to the side to look at you. It was probably stupid to still be in awe of you every time you were around and he had to wonder if that was ever going to change but he doubted it. “I still have to work when I’m snowed in.” He watched the way you smiled, leaning into him, careful of his coffee, to kiss him.

“Yeah but you can get snowed in with me.” You proposed, knowing that the snow was a long way away and exactly what that suggested and maybe he didn’t think that far ahead.

“I take it back, I think Boston is growing on me.”

The open bar at the wedding was a godsend. Especially when you were busy talking to other people who worked at your school. Rafe had agreed to the weekend upstate with you because it was exactly that, a weekend upstate. You’d taken Friday and Monday off from work and extended the stay which meant extra time for the two of you, existing in this cute, small town bubble where you had no obligations except each other. Bring the dog and Rafe was sure he could live up here with you forever, a scary thought at four months.

“Hey, do we know each other?” Ian asked, stepping up to the bar next to Rafe, undoing his bow tie and letting it hang around his neck.

Rafe spared him a side glance as he took a long sip of his whiskey, trying to decide if he really felt like talking to this guy. You still hadn’t mentioned hooking up but you had told Rafe that the groom was your ex, someone he didn’t need any help remembering. He couldn’t blame you really, the circumstances didn’t lend to him being more than an irresponsible fuck boy back then but god was this guy a loser.

“I don’t think so.” Rafe replied, looking back out over the reception. You were standing near the edge of the dance floor, chatting with the principal and her husband. You waved at him when you caught him looking and he nodded his head to you. He heard Ian say your name and toward him again, “what?”

“You came with-“

“Yeah.”

“Crazy world man, I used to date her in college.”

“Yeah that’s real crazy.” He replied, pushing his empty glass back across the bar counter and asking for another. He’d need the whole bottle to get through a conversation with Ian.

“Swear I know you from somewhere else though.” Ian said, squinting as if that would help, “did you go to Duke?”

Yeah.”

“No fucking way, that’s crazy man!”

“It’s all crazy.” Rafe said, rolling his eyes. God he hoped this guy was drunk.

“Did we have class together or something?”

You caught Rafe’s eye again, waving your hand from him to come over. You’d moved on from talking and there weren’t too many other people around that you knew. Standing around awkwardly was exactly what you didn’t want. Rafe downed the rest of his second glass, leaving it on the counter as he turned to Ian, “no but I did fuck your girlfriend.” He said before walking off.

Ian’s eyes went wide, trying to work out exactly what Rafe was saying as he watched him walk over to you. Like some kind of alcohol induced time warp Ian felt himself spiral back to the morning the two of you had gotten back together. That was it, he was the guy in the car that dropped you off. He remembered watching you kiss him in the parking lot, the same way you kissed him now.

“Fuck.” Ian mumbled, tapping the bar, “can I get a whiskey?”

The bartender poured him a whiskey, same as Rafe’s, and he kicked it back, coughing unexpectedly when the warm liquid hit his throat.

You wrapped your arms around Rafe’s neck as he came up to you, kissing him, “how long do you think the bridesmaids have to stay at the wedding?” You asked, leaning your whole body against him.

“As much as I’d love to leave I think it’s pretty standard to stick around until after the cake has been cut.” He replied, hands slipping beneath the suit jacket you’d stolen from him and taken to wearing. Your dress was cut low in the back and he brushed his fingers across your bare skin. Watching the way your eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feeling had him kissing you again. “When is the cake again?”

“Soon,” you promised, “then you and me can split…think they’d notice me lifting a bottle of champagne.”

“Not if you time it right.”

“Okay, I’m getting a drink and then I’m making you dance cause I didn’t take my shoes off for nothing,” you announced, pulling away from him. You made your way over to the bar, eager for something that wasn’t just the wine you’d gotten with dinner. Your grad partner claimed they had signature drinks and she was apparently telling the truth as you saw the paper on display advertising an Ian and an Anya. “What’s in the Anya?” You chanced asking when you realised the writing beneath the drink name was just some bullshit about how sweet she was.

“It’s just a pink margarita.” The bartender replied, “it’s…really sweet.”

“Can I just get an old fashioned?”

“Hey.”

You turned to the side, pulling Rafe’s jacket closer and looking at Ian. He had apparently not left the bar area, letting Anya get in some dancing with her friends while he hung back and drank. You had seen him enough through the wedding prep, it was unavoidable, but you hadn’t really talked to him at all.

“Hey Ian, weddings really beautiful.” You mentioned, taking your drink and dropping a tip in the jar for the bartender.

“Met your new boyfriend.”

“Rafe?” You asked, searching for him. He’d either snuck out of the reception room or Anya had nabbed him for the fifth time that day to talk to him. She apparently thought he was great, something she’d mentioned multiple times since she had met him last month when he dropped by the school on a half day to meet you for lunch.

“Yeah, he went to school with us, didn’t he?”

“I guess Ian,” you shrugged.

“He said he did.”

“Wait…he said that…the three of us went to school together?” You asked, all your attention on your ex. Rafe knew? If he knew you went to Duke then he had to know.

“Yeah. Said something else to.” Ian replied.

“What?”

“He said you and him slept together. I knew you hooked up with someone when we broke up.” Ian said, leaning closer so no one heard him.

“I have to go.” You insisted, stopping to look back at him for a moment, “and yeah, I totally did.”

You left the reception, ignoring the DJ calling for the cake cutting to happen, leaving your heels on the seat of your table, your mind on one thing only. He knew. Rafe had seen Ian approach you at the bar and had hightailed it out of the reception, knowing that he would spill to you and knowing, even more than that, you’d think he was a creep for never saying anything.

He headed back up to the room, impeded only when he realised that the key was in his jacket which was on you. He leaned against the wall opposite door, pressing his hands to his face, trying to think of a solution. There was always asking the desk to open the door but his whole wallet was in his jacket, there was no way of proving who he was and unless this place had the worst precautions ever they weren’t gonna let a guy in a hotel room cause he said it was his.

“Rafe!” Your voice carried down the hall and he stood up straight. There was no avoiding it now. You’d tell him how fucking weird he was for not telling you that he had slept with you in college. He sounded so fucking awful.

“Look-“

“You knew!” You exclaimed, the one thought you’d had the entire way back to the room coming out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wait, wait, what’re we talking about?” Rafe asked, mildly confused. Had Ian told you? Did you know? You didn’t seem mad.

“That…you know…we had sex,” you said, lowering your voice despite being in an empty hallway. “Right before spring break.”

His expression changed from one of absolute paranoia to a smug grin, realizing that your shock wasn’t in him knowing and not telling you but in him knowing too. “You knew.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, “but for real, it was Nina that found you on Tinder.”

“Can’t believe you lied to me.” He replied, laughing when you smacked his arm.

“I didn’t lie…and…you knew too!” You said, “wait, what did you say to Ian.”

Rafe shrugged, “he was pissing me off, so I told him we’d fucked before.”

You couldn’t help smiling, leaning into him and tilting your head back slightly for a kiss which he gave you willingly. “Why are we outside?”

“You have both keys.” He replied, slipping his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out his wallet. “Guess we missed cake.”

“That’s okay, I didn’t care about the cake anyway,” you admitted, keeping your arms around his waist as he swiped the card, twisting the knob on the door and opening it.

Aside from getting coffee in the mornings and just going on a general walk around the small town where the wedding was happening, you and Rafe had spent most of your time in the hotel room. He’d put work on hold for the long weekend too, meaning neither of you had responsibilities, especially now that the wedding was over.

“We should order better cake and some kind of alcohol up to the room.” You suggested, tossing his jacket over the chair and heading into the bathroom to take off your makeup.

Rafe sat on the end of the bed, watching your reflection in the mirror on the closet door across from the bathroom. He hadn’t even bothered taking off his shoes, his entire attention focused on you as you slipped out of your dress, disappearing behind the door for a split second to hang it off a hook, pulling Rafe’s gray t-shirt off the same hook and putting it on.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” you repeated as you stepped into the room, “like I keep thinking about it and I’m like...we would’ve grown old and died not knowing.”

“I definitely would’ve told you before we died,” Rafe promised as you walked over to him, stepping between his legs. He rested his hands on your hips pushing the shirt up just slightly. “You want cake then?”

You scrunched your nose, thinking for a moment whether you truly cared about the cake or not. In all honesty you wanted the exact same thing now that you had since this morning when your alarm went off, which was you and Rafe, in bed, undisturbed. “Raincheck on the cake?”

“Sure.”

“Since we’re on the subject-”

“Of cake?” He asked, cutting you off.

“No.”

“Oh, the other thing.” He replied, drawing it out as if he was truly just realizing what you were talking about.

You stuck your tongue out at him, “yes the ‘other thing’. Sorry I never called you.”

“Honestly,” he admitted, “this is better.”

You couldn’t be sure where either of you would have been if you had never gotten back together with Ian and had called Rafe back. Maybe you would be married, maybe you’d have broken up and it would be him marrying Anya. A truly terrifying thought. One you might’ve lingered on longer if you let yourself. But instead you did exactly what you’d been doing for the last few hours, focusing all your attention on Rafe and shutting out everything else.

Taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @aoba-josigh @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @mysticsthinking @heavenlymama @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @lemur46 @under-a-canyon-moon @calums-betch @dpaccione @bbeauttyybbx @teenwolfobx @iccyyyybitch @popcrone818

151 notes · View notes

writingsfromhome · 4 years ago

Text

Josslyn

Request: Harry imagine based off the song Josslyn by Olivia O'Brien?

A/N: This was in my inbox for a while, but I finally finished it! It got a little long but I really wanted to set up a backstory. Hope it’s what you wanted! :)

Part 2

————————————————————-

My leg bounces under the table, eyeing everyone walking through the door until my best friend Regan walks in. The first day back to school always felt like hell on earth. It would be more unbearable if my best friend didn’t have the same homeroom as me.

“I want to die,” she drops into the seat in front of mine and turns around. “Like literally. I can’t wait to be done with this dump.”

“We just do it all over again in uni,” My stomach turns remembering what our final year meant. I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life and I had to choose this year. It was a scary thought.

“At least there’ll be more freedom, I won’t be living with my crazy family, and,” she pauses ticking each item on her fingers, and wiggles her eyebrows. “All the hot guys.”

“Is somebody talking about me?”

We turn and Harry Styles, class jock, stands above us with a pencil behind his ear and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“If we were, you would’ve heard ‘major douchebag loser’,” Regan rolls her eyes. I give Regan a look like what an idiot and she ignores him to continue on about her dream school. As hard as I concentrate though, I’m too aware of Harry walking around and settling into the seat behind me.

It had happened, over the summer-we had hooked up. I can’t say it was a shining time for me, I also didn’t reqret it quite as much as one might think.

It was at a party I was invited to while Regan was visiting her grandparents in New Jersey and I was getting lonely. He’d cornered me, made me feel less alone. The hookup lasted a week, before we were off, and then another two weeks in August. I quit him-like a habit-the week before school started.

I confessed to Regan, she’d warned me to avoid him during the year if I wanted to have a decent final year. So I didn’t know if him showing up in the first hour of senior year was a good sign or an omen.

“You girls have a good summer?” Harry asks behind me. Regan locks eyes with me-she would handle it.

“You’re sort of interrupting our conversation here. Maybe you should find a new seat if you wanted to make friends.”

A small laugh escapes me, I couldn’t help it.

“Y/N,” Harry calls me out. “Have you forgotten how to talk or you’re getting shy on me?”

I turn around, he was way too smug. “Regan’s said it perfectly, why do you need me to talk.”

“Just making sure you could,” his eyes flash with humour before he says casually: “I wasn’t sure if you’d worked your mouth too hard this summer that it stopped working or something.”

My jaw drops and I hear Regan gasp.

“Yeah, like that.” Harry points to my open mouth and it takes everything in me not to slap him. But then he does a strange thing, his mocking smile softens into a genuine one. His eyes crinkling like we were on the ins of a joke and the angry flame softens at the curve of his smile.

There was this one weekend where his parents had left town and we’d spent the whole time just binging bad movies, under covers, learning every inch of each other. I never thought it would be a calming feeling waking up and seeing Harry’s sleeping face on the pillow next to me but I had stared at it for what felt like an hour until I’d poked him awake and he’s just pulled me in to sleep longer.

“You’re disgusting,” I tell him now, but it doesn’t have the same rage it would have last year. He’d worn me down, and I know he only liked to wind me up because he thought it was hot. He’d said as much over the summer.

I turn just as our teacher walks in and class begins. Harry gets in trouble for talking to his friends, I ignore the note he throws my way, we’re told it’s the most important year in our life thus far and I almost fall asleep halfway. Just a typical day of high school.

***

It was near the end of the first week, already I had an essay and a project due in two weeks and a thousand pages of math. I was just happy it was Friday and Regan and I were going to do our regular end-of-the-week detox: Starbucks and driving around town.

“Don’t hate me,” Regan says as I approach her car. “But Adam just invited me with his friends to the mall and I know we were supposed to hang out but this is maybe the first time he actually looked me in the eye and talked to me so-“

“It’s okay,” I interrupt her even though I was bummed. “You’ve been trying to get him to notice you all year so...finally! we’ll hang out over the weekend.”

Regan hugs me. “Really? You’re okay? You could come with us. Or I can drop you home first...”

“I can take the bus,” I insist. “We rode the bus last year remember?”

“Ugh, too soon,” Regan shakes her head. “I’ll make it up to you I promise. He’s calling now I’ll see ya!”

I wave her off and begin the slow walk to the bus stop, thinking of things I could do tonight by myself. Someone whistles to my right and I look up. Harry waves his hand, standing by his car. My face flushes as I remember the things that went on in that back seat.

“Where’s a pretty girl like you going all alone?” Harry shouts. I sigh and walk up to him.

“Do you ever realise how predatory you sound?”

“I’m king of the jungle,” he gestures to the school. “Why wouldn’t I sound predatory.”

I cover my face, “Omg please shut up Harry do you even hear yourself? You’re such a-an-ugh!”

“Hey,” his hand peels mine off of my eyes and he holds it in his grip as he walks backwards until his back hits his car, pulling me along. “What’s the matter with you? Didn’t we have fun this summer-why do you act like you hate me?”

His honesty shuts me up. “I-I don’t. I never said I hated you.”

“You sure act like it,” he crosses his arms. “You ignore me in homeroom, roll your eyes every time I say something...”

“We had a fling Harry, we’re not dating each other.” I shrug, trying to tug my hand away from Harry but he holds tight. “There’s nothing more to it. And to be honest...you’ve always been kind of annoying.”

“You’re kind of annoying,” Harry smiles again, tugging my sleeve to bring me closer. I don’t even resist moving into his orbit and settling between his outstretched legs as his arms wrap around my waist.

The truth was being with Harry was nice. He was a cocky jerk who knew he was desirable but when I was with him all the noise in my head died down for a bit and I existed in the present. That’s how he lived: for the now. And even though we were only more than friends and less than together forever, we had something between us. I just had to make sure my heart didn’t get caught up in between it. I’d had too many guys break my heart like I’d told Harry about one day when he’d driven us to a beach and we’d spent most of the day laying in the sun. Something about being there made me open up. He’d said he didn’t want to hurt me like the boys before. So we’d kept things light.

“You have any plans tonight?” Harry asks, his eyes shamelessly on my lips. I feel the familiar flutter in my stomach. Even though Harry would get with any body with boobs, it still felt nice to be looked at like this. By him.

“Not anymore,” I say. “Regan cancelled last minute so-“

“You’re free?” Harry sounds happy. I nod and he lets me go to move to the passenger door. “Get in, where do you want to go?”

“I...” I move to the car and sit inside, I told myself-and Regan-this wouldn’t happen and yet. It was. But Regan did ditch me for Adam so, maybe this was just the alternative. “Regan and I usually just grab drinks and drive around with music on.”

“Can I drive you somewhere?” Harry asks. I smile, of course.

***

Harry ends up taking me to a drive-in theatre. I’d never been to one and the excitement is all over my face. “It’s exactly like the old photos!” I squeal as he leans over and pushes my seat back. He does the same to his. “Have you been here before?”

“My family used to come here when we younger,” Harry smiles. I grin back at him and soon we’re locked in a staring contest because neither of us can look away. I open my mouth to say something but Harry moves forward, cupping my face to pull me to him. All common sense flies out the window as I get lost in his kiss. I tug at his hair the way he likes it and he presses me against the door as he kisses me harder, the handle jabbing my back but I didn’t even care. I’d missed Harry even though it had only been a week. His hands roam lower and lower until they stop as someone knocks on his window.

“Hello!” A muffled voice shouts from his window. We force each other apart. Harry looks at me with a drunken look on his face-eyes half lidded, a lopsided smile...and I’m sure I looked the same. We check who was at his door and it’s the girl bringing us our snacks.

“Harry?” She says as we roll down the window.

“Uh-oh-oh hey, Josslyn right? Long time!”

Harry grabs the drinks from...Josslyn, who looked familiar, and passes them to me to put in the dashboard holder we’d received when we entered. I keep an eye on the interaction as Josslyn goes from professional to flirty in under a second.

“Uh yeah because you never responded to any of my messages over the summer! How have you been? You look so good!”

“Yeah I’m good, I didn’t know you worked here?”

“My parents own the thing,” she glances back. “I have to work here when it gets busy.”

“No way,” Harry’s now fully interested in their conversation with his back to me and I feel a little left out. “I used to come here all the time as a kid did your parents own it back then?”

“Yeah! They took over from my grandparents. We definitely saw each other as kids cuz I was here all the time. Like every summer. I know every single lyric to every single summer hit from 1999 to present.”

“That’s impressive,” Harry laughs. I pick at the m&ms off the popcorn, feeling slightly jealous even though it didn’t make sense to be. Harry and I weren’t exclusive or anything, he wasn’t mine and I wasn’t his.

“Well I gotta go get the next order but we should catch up some time,” Josslyn puts her hand on Harry’s arm. “My number’s the same: if you’ve been ignoring my texts like I think you were then you should have it in your phone. Maybe we can recreate old times.”

With a wink, she’s gone and Harry clears his throat as he goes through his phone. His chuckle when he finds her texts irritates me.

“So like, do you have a lot of girls texting you that you just ignore?”

“What?” Harry looks up like he’d forgotten I was even there. “No, we just have some history. The texts were...funny.”

If I was a crazy girlfriend I would’ve demanded to see those texts but I was neither crazy or his girlfriend so I just look forward, kicking off my shoes and folding my legs into myself. I didn’t want to feel this way but I couldn’t help it.

“You’re not jealous are you?” Harry sneaks closer to me, clearly intrigued that I could be. But I don’t give him the satisfaction.

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Right?” He puts his hand on my knee and it tingles. “She doesn’t mean anything anyway. Just someone from the past.”

“Like me someday,” I don’t know what makes me say it. Maybe I was just moody.

He furrows his brow, leaning back in his seat. “Y/N,” I look over at him but he looks like he’s struggling for words. I raise my eyebrow and he holds out his arm. “Come here.”

“Where?” I ask, looking him over. He sighs and in a single move he’s put one arm under my knees and the other around my back as he tries to lift me while seated.

“Harry stop!” I can’t help but laugh as the stick hits my bum, my knees spill the overflow of popcorn, and we knock heads. “What are you doing!”

Harry laughs and motions to me, “Just c’mere!”

I oblige, twisting my body to straddle him in the front seat. I make sure not to lean back-I’d done that in the past and blared the horn. I’d learned since then.

“What?” I ask, pretending to still be upset but the ridiculous move minutes earlier had already washed it away. He moves my hair behind my ear and holds my face above his.

“You’re lovely,” he says and I melt. He knows it.

“I wasn’t jealous,” I mumble as he peppers my neck with kisses, “I just...” the words already slip away from me.

“Mhm,” he hums.

***

“Thanks,” I say to Harry. We’re parked outside my house and we hesitate to leave each other. The movie was fun, Harry was distracting throughout but that just added to the fun.

“Your parents home?” Harry asks innocently.

“Yes,” I roll my eyes. I check the time, it was nearly 11pm. I’d told them I would be home by 10 but I knew they would be asleep so I had pushed my luck. “Where else would they be?”

Harry shrugs, “My parents are out of town again.”

He scratches at a scab on his hand, hiding his face. After spending time with Harry, I knew his parents weren’t around much what with high profile jobs and travelling all over. His house was huge but empty and it made Harry make a little more sense to me then. Right now though, he just wanted to get me in bed.

“I’d invite you in but if you were caught, my funeral would be Sunday.”

“I’d come in a disguise,” Harry reaches for my hand and threads his fingers through it. “And jump into the grave after you, I’d be as dramatic as possible.”

“Harry you’re mistaken,” I say. “Your funeral would be the exact same day.”

Harry laughs and kisses my hand, “Then we’d just find each other in the afterlife yeah?”

I lean towards him and kiss him tenderly, I try to stop myself but it feels like I’m falling and I remember Regan’s words as I cave and sneak him into my room, hushing him as he bumps into every possible piece of furniture. But I forget it all the second we get under covers only to find him gone the next morning with a text promising me coffee on my front porch.

***

“Kiss any hot guys over the weekend?” Harry whispers in my ear Monday morning. It was a couple weeks since I’d snuck him into my room and we had been seeing each other pretty regularly. Harry sat with Regan and I at lunch sometimes despite her glares, and threw me notes often in class that were just bad drawings. But there were days where he would be distant and I would see him flirting with another girl. I would have to scold myself then, even though I was in his bed half the time we never said where we drew the line. Although I felt what I felt, I couldn’t expect any more from him.

This past weekend, Regan and I had driven to a few universities she was interested in and I could potentially be interested in. We’d crashed at a friend’s dorm before driving back Sunday afternoon. It gave me a small thrill that Harry might have been thinking about me kissing other guys even though he didn’t text me once.

“That depends on what you define as a hot guy,” I tease as I turn around but Harry looks annoyed.

“Oh,” he stares. “So you had fun over the weekend?”

His annoyance rubs me the wrong way, he could flirt with people and do whatever he wanted but he was annoyed at a joke? “Lots, not that you would know since you went awol yourself.”

Harry raises a brow but I just shrug and turn to the front. He was probably hanging out with other girls, not that I should care. But when it’s confirmed when Regan shows me the instagram story of someone she follows, I click through and find he was indeed. The picture shows him, a girl from our basketball team, and Josslyn on the beach getting high. My stomach churns for the rest of the day but I don’t dare bring it up. I just tell him we needed a break, maybe the distance would stop the obsession.

***

Harry was throwing one of his parties on Friday. With his parents gone most of the time it was the perfect place to host our class. This morning when he told Regan and I to swing by, I’d lingered behind and we’d made up. I was still nervous about the party, even though Harry and I were on again.

At the party, I hang out with Regan, Adam, and his friends for a bit. I talk to a few other friends and see some unfamiliar face. Harry catches up to me halfway through and apologises.

“I got caught up with everyone,” he says, his words softened with alcohol. I had seen glimpses of him with his friends, seen him flirt with a few girls when he came in but he ended up with me here so I don’t hold onto it.

“That’s okay,” I place my hand without a drink on his chest, feeling the steady heartbeat underneath. “You’re here now.”

He wraps his arms around me, “You’re staying the night right?” He whispers in my ear. It tickles and I giggle.

“As long as you don’t get too drunk.”

“So you won’t help me out if I get too drunk?” He pouts.

I laugh, about to say something but someone comes up to us in our private moment. Josslyn.

“Harry! Thanks for the invite!” Josslyn puts her arms out so Harry lets go of me to give her a hug. I try to wash away the possessive paranoia with my beer but I feel it creeping up. Josslyn glances over at me and I give her a smile.

“Hey,” I say awkwardly.

“Hi! You’re from the drive-in right?”

I was surprised she remembered me considering she didn’t even look at me that day. “Yeah, the same one.”

“Ooh,” she glances between us. “So are you two like dating or something?”

“Uhm...” Harry and I awkwardly look at one another as we try to find the right words. “Not really-“ I start to say as Harry says, “We just hang out...”

“That makes sense,” she flashes her eyes at Harry and I feel more insecure than ever. It reminds me that they did hang out together on the beach, maybe more often than I knew. Harry looks unbothered though. “So I can steal Harry away for a bit? You don’t mind? It’s been a while since we caught up!”

“I don’t own him,” I fake laugh even though I want to shout leave us alone liar!

I watch them leave, a sinking feeling in my stomach as Harry only glances my way before leaving. I stumble from group to group after that, finally locating Regan in a game of beer pong. I cheer her on and almost convince myself I was having fun but I continue to scan the room for Harry. My phone finally buzzes later in the night, Harry was upstairs asking me to come up.

“Harry?” I ask quietly as I knock on his door and peer around the corner. He’s laying on his floor shirtless and his room needs airing out. I sigh and open his window. “Where did you get the weed?”

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Harry says from the floor. “Where were you?”

“I was downstairs, at your party. You disappeared with Josslyn.” I can’t hide the edge in my voice.

“She shared her stash,” Harry says, his voice a low rumble. “We just talked about life.”

“Right, is this all she does?” It seemed Harry and her only ever got high together. “Did you want anything? I was watching Regan win and I’d like to go back if I’m here for no reason.”

“No wait,” he gets up slowly and walks to me, trying to kiss me but I pull away.

“I’m not interested right now Harry,” I push his arms off me. All I knew was he left with Josslyn and ended shirtless on his floor, high and alone. Who knows what they did.

“I was alone this whole time,” Harry tries to convince me. “She left a long time ago.”

“She left that too?” I point to a tanktop draped on his bed.

“That’s....that’s yours?” Harry says.

“Oh right, I forgot what my own fucking clothes look like.”

I stomp to the door but he calls out, “You’re making it a big deal! Nothing happened!”

I didn’t trust that. Not when he lied to my face like that.

***

At school on Monday, Harry tries to talk to me but I ignore him all morning. He forces me into an empty classroom and tries to win me over but I push him away as a teacher walks in and tells us to leave.

“Y/N,” Harry whines. “It’s not a big deal come on! She’s just an old friend!”

“Did you date her?” I demand, finally stopping by my locker.

“No I-we didn’t date. She’s just an old friend.”

“You keep mentioning,” I roll my eyes.

“Because it’s true, babe.” Harry touches my arm. “Listen. Nothing happened.” When I don’t respond he takes it as in invitation to ask if I wanted to do homework at his place after school. I tell him I’d see.

I end up going. We don’t do a lot of homework.

***

A couple weeks go by without a snag, I finally settle into a rythm for senior year and join the basketball team with Regan for our final year. I go over the endless decisions of what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, and on weekends, I would hang out with Harry at his place.

It’s our first game of the season and Regan and I are doing our warmups as we watch the bleachers fill with friends and our rival school.

“Will Harry be here?” Regan asks, although she still didn’t like him she had accepted she would see him from time to time.

“I thought he would. Maybe I should call him.”

I leave the loud gym and duck into the locker room. There’s only two other people, so I shuffle to the side and call Harry.

“Y/N,” he picks up on the fourth ring, he sounds out of breath. “What’s up?”

“Harry,” I say cautiously. “Where are you? I thought you were coming to our first game?”

“Oh shit uh yeah,” he sounds panicked. “I uh can’t-really uhm-.”

I hear a laugh and muffled noise, like Harry had dragged his microphone against his shirt. “Babe I can’t see you right now okay? I’ll swing by at halftime.”

“Oh okay...” before I can say anything he’d hung up. That was weird, unless I was overthinking it. But I remember the muffled noises in the back-he was with someone else.

I slowly put my phone back in my bag and look up, the one girl from my team, I think her name was Valentina. She stays near her locker but she’s obviously listening to my conversation. I don’t think much of it, and head out to find Regan. Screw Harry, we had a game to win.

I take my position as forward and Regan and I exchange fierce looks before smiling. I look around at our rival team, recognising a few from last year. And that’s when I realise why Josslyn looked familiar to me. She stands exactly diagonally from me, already looking at me-I remember her from semi-finals last year.

She narrows her eyes and I do a double take, maybe she was just being friendly competitive. But as the first quarter progresses, she gets aggressive, coming over to my side even when she should be on hers, and making sure to check me as she runs past. I glance at the referree but she doesn’t notice a thing. What was going on?

I ask Regan before the second quarter begins but she hadn’t noticed. She tells me she’d keep an eye out and once the whistle blows for halftime she runs up to me.

“She has it in for you, what did you do to her?” Regan whispers.

“Nothing!” I shout-whisper. “She’s an ‘old friend’ of Harry’s but I don’t know what I did to her...she hates me!”

“She wants to kill you Y/N, I have never-“

“Hey Y/N,” Regan’s interrupted by Harry who finally shows up. I continue drinking my water as he stands there uncomfortably. “Uh, I’m sorry I’m late?”

“Missing the first half isn’t late,” Regan pipes in for me. “It’s missing half the game.”

“Well...sorry for missing half the game,” Harry says but it doesn’t actually sound like he’s sorry. Just on the edge of annoyance. “Could I talk to you alone Y/N?”

I glance at Regan and let her know I was okay. She makes a show of being annoyed and goes to find Adam.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“To say I’m sorry,” Harry says again.

“About?” I raise my eyebrow. There was something he wasn’t telling me, everything about today was off from our phone call to the way Josslyn was attacking me on the court. Speaking of, I glance around and notice her staring at us.

“You know,” Harry doesn’t meet my eye. “Missing your first game and stuff.”

“Okay,” I watch the timer count down our halftime and I needed a water refill. “I’ll catch up with you later. Your ‘old friend’ Josslyn is here if you want to hang out with her!”

Harry stares at me like he’s trying to figure me out, my sarcasm lost on him. I raise my eyebrow which makes him stop. He kisses my cheek and walks to the bleachers. Weird.

***

When we switch sides, Josslyn must’ve negotiated with someone because she stands opposite me.

“Bring it on 15,” Josslyn calls me by my number as we wait for the whistle. She didn’t even know my name.

“Likewise,” I crouch down. “We don’t lose on home turf.”

“Too bad you already lost on home turf,” she says just as the whistle blows and she’s off. My head spins as I try to figure out what she meant and I end up missing a pass. My teammates shoot me a look and I try to focus. But Josslyn continues to taunt me and try to mess with me. By the end of it, we win by three and I gloat as much as I want to.

Until Valentina corners me in the changeroom.

“Hey, Y/N. I know we don’t talk much but can we talk? Girl-to-girl?”

I walk towards the windows and she follows. “What’s up Val?”

“I...don’t know how to say this. I’ve been friends with Harry for a while and Josslyn too...” As soon as I hear the name I realise it was her instagram Regan had shown me. And that’s why she was eavesdropping on the conversation. Her and Josslyn were friends. “...a couple times but you should know she doesn’t care he’s with you. I tried to tell her he had a girlfriend but she said he didn’t? I think they...hang out if you know what I mean.”

My ears ring as I stare at Val, what she’s trying to tell me. I couldn’t believe it, I’d been so stupid. Of course that’s what was going on.

“Thanks,” I say abruptly and turn around to grab my stuff from my locker. Letting Regan know I’d meet her at her car. My mind was heaving as everthing clicked into place. Harry’s party, Val’s stories that weekend I was away, how he had lied to my face...the other voice on the line when he said he couldn’t come to the first half. It was Josslyn. He was with Josslyn.

I’m still in my shorts, only having changed my shirt. But I storm out and find Harry at his car where he said he would be.

“Hey Y/N, where are we celebrat-“

“Josslyn,” I say and Harry shuts up. “You and Josslyn? Really? It’s one thing to do it and another thing to fucking lie to me for weeks!”

“Okay wait, can we talk somewhere-“

“No!” I shove Harry in his chest and he stumbles into his car. “I-I’m such an idiot! Everyone told me this would happen and I thought okay, he’s a player and a flirt but at least he doesn’t lie! But you lie like the truth is a chore, you’re scum just like everyone said you were!”

“Wait!” Harry shouts as I leave. “You can’t be this angry with me, it didn’t mean anything! And we aren’t even together Y/N!”

“You’re really playing that card?” I spin around. “We never drew the line but read the fucking signs Styles, I thought we made it clear how we felt. You didn’t even care at all did you?”

I ignore what he says and head back, towards Regan’s car to wait for her. People in the lot stare but I don’t care. And to make it worse, I walk past a group of the other team on my way to Regan’s car and Josslyn is one of them. She smirks and I want to strangle her.

“I told you you’d already lost,” she says as I shoot her a dirty look.

“It’s not called losing when he was never worth having,” I stick up my middle finger and use my rage to propel me the rest of the way without breaking down. As soon as I sit in Regan’s car, I break down. She doesn’t say anything, just turns up the music and we go for a drive.

***

Harry tries to speak to me. Through text or calls, he tries to pass me notes and tap my shoulder but Regan offers to switch seats and I accept it. I was torn between feeling absolutely nothing and wanting to cry into a tub of ice cream. Mostly I was angry, at Harry but also myself.

After practice on Thursday, I walk towards the bus stop with my gym bag bouncing off my knees. Regan couldn’t make practice so I didn’t have a ride, but I didn’t mind-I could use the time to clear my head....Until the very person I was trying to clear away falls into step with me. Harry.

“Y/N can we talk? You’re avoiding me and I feel really bad about what happened I just want to talk.”

“Nothing to talk about,” I pick up my pace.

“I’m sorry okay? I fucked up but we were never an item Y/N! We never said what we were. It didn’t mean anything with Joss.”

He hits the nail on the head, the same thing I was angry at myself about. I try to continue my steely silence but I couldn’t, not with the way he says her name.

“I know that Harry, we never said where we drew the line, but I’m sure you read the signs. You knew what we had was different. But I guess you had to go and ruin it just so you could get a quick fuck and I’m sure you had fun doing it too so I’ll leave you to her. I don’t care anymore.”

“Y/N wait don’t say that! Don’t give up on us! It-it wasn’t like that! I didn’t know...wait!” Harry falls behind as I continue speed walking but he catches up at the bus shelter. There’s no one else waiting so it’s hard to ignore him.

“Y/N, it just happened. I didn’t mean to hurt you, it just happened.”

I snort, not amused in the least. “You were hanging out with her whenever we were off, maybe when we were on too. It was bound to happen,” I turn and watch for the bus so I didn’t have to look at his face, “those things don’t just happen. They don’t.”

“Okay listen, we can take a break. If you want space I can give that to you. I hate fighting, Y/N you mean something to me. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I’m thinking now just please. I never said it before but you mean a lot to me, you’re different Y/N...I’m different around you and I-well I-“

“Harry,” I force him to stop. I didn’t want him to say the words out of desperation. Not like this. Not from him. I see the bus off in the distance, finally. “Harry you act like you’re the victim but you hurt me, you lied to me like telling the truth was a chore to you. You’re right though. I was never yours. I don’t want to fight...I just never wanna talk again.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something just as the bus pulls up. I turn to face him once more.

“Don’t call me, what we had...whatever is was, is over.” I turn as the doors open but not before saying: “I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josslyn.”

His mouth opens in disbelief, the same mouth I used to dream about when it wasn’t kissing me, and be consumed by when it was. The person I knew would ruin me but I thought might turn out different. The guy I toed a line with but will never cross. Especially not anymore.

I flash my card to the bus driver and hoist my bag onto my shoulder as I shuffle further into the bus. My legs ache from practice and my stomach rumbles as I sit. This was senior year, it’d been fun but this was my future. Harry wasn’t the kind of guy who was ever going to be in my future.

As the bus groans and moves forward, I look out the window. Harry sits at the bus stop with his head in his hands, maybe this was a turning point for him. Maybe he was going to change. Maybe he wasn’t. But I couldn’t stick around to find out. I decided I was going to move on, and leave him in the dust with his Josslyn.

#harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles #olivia o'brien #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic

257 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Riding On

Ch 14- Compromise

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

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

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

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

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do we have any waffles?"

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

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

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

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

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

"As in sleep over?"

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

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

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

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

Mary beamed. “That sounds great."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fliss shrugged, "its fine..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"At least you recognise that." Fliss mumbled.

"Huh?" Joanne frowned and Fliss shook her head

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you okay?" Bonnie asked.

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

"What about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright, Frank?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank took a deep breath, licking his lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely.” Frank grinned “Thanks Alan.”

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

Frank nodded “I’ll do my best.”

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

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

"Hi." Her tone was flat.

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

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

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

"Why?" her voice was puzzled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, but…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” Fliss asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A compromise.” Frank smiled and Fliss shrugged.

“Yeah, I can be reasonable at times.”

“Sounds good to me.” Frank nodded

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, because they’re going in Dusty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fliss bit her lip, her hands sliding up his arms. “Yeah, can you go to the garage and maybe smear a bit of oil or motor grease onto your arms. Maybe a bit on your cheek?”

“You have an unhealthy obsession with dirt, you know that?” He looked at her and she shook her head.

“No, I have an unhealthy obsession with dirt on you.” She corrected, her arms once more round his neck. “I totally loathe Alex’s nappy changes, for the record.”

Frank snorted “Yeah, they’re not great. Just wait till he starts solids.”

“Yeah, okay stop talking shit Frank and fuck me.”

“Talking shit.” He mused, completely ignoring her request despite the fucking hotwire it had sent to his already half erect cock “I see what you did there.” “Whatever, get on with the other part.”

“Which was?” he teased.

She looked at him, realising instantly he was playing around so she smirked a little and leaned forward, her lips brushing his ear. “Fuck me, Adler.”

“But I’m not covered in dirt.” He titled his head, his lips ghosting hers.

Fliss paused, her eyes flicking around before she grinned a she spotted the dirty pasta dish to the side of her. In flash she wiped her finger round the edge of the dish and smeared the tomato sauce straight across his cheek and down his beard.

“Now you are.” She looked at him, as he stared at her in shock, open mouthed before he gave a scoff.

“You want me to fuck you Cowgirl, you’re gonna have to lick that off my face.”

Her eyes locked onto his, she stuck her finger in her mouth sucking it clean and his eyes darkened a little as she released it with a loud pop and gave a shrug. Her hand tangled in his hair as she pulled his head towards her and gently placed her mouth against his face, sucking and licking at the offending food, making her way down his cheek to his jaw line, where she continued her affections. Frank gave a sigh, tipping his head slightly to give her more access as she skated across his short whiskers to the other side, her kisses trailing back upwards before her mouth caught his again.

“God I fahking love you.” He mumbled, his arms pulling her closer.

“Yeah?” She asked as his hands gripped at her hips.

“Yeah.” He nodded standing in between her legs, his mouth dropping to her neck. She rolled her head back, as he nipped at her pulse-point, before his lips moved to that hollow at the bottom of her throat, his beard scratching her skin as mouth traced a path up her neck, back up to hers and he kissed her hard. His hands moved to pop the button on her jeans before he gently grasped at the waistband and she shifted to allow him to pull them down over her legs, tossing them to one side. His hands slipped up underneath the blue top she was wearing, pulling down the cups of her bra, thumbs gently teased at her nipples, all the time listening to the soft noises and groans she was making as he continued, his nose brushing against hers, smiling softly.

“You like that?” He whispered, knowing full well that she did, but he knew she also liked his soft dirty talk and she gave a sigh and a nod, followed by a little squeak as he shifted her underwear to one side and pushed two fingers insider her.

Her head fell forward onto his shoulder as her hands grasped at his back through his T-shirt, and as he continued to stroke and coax her she bit down on his neck causing him to hiss slightly at the bite of pain.

“Need you.” She purred into his ear. “Please.”

And when she asked like that, he was always powerless to refuse. This woman was his absolute weakness.

He moved his head to kiss her again, and removing his hand from her panties he reached up and pulled them down before he stood up, and she reached for the button and zip on his jeans. Once she’d gotten them open, she pushed them down, over his slim hips as Frank’s hands moved to her back and he gently pulled her forwards, sliding her towards him, letting her feel how ready he was. She reached down and gently gave his hard cock a pump up and down and he let out a groan as he pulled her off the counter slightly, her legs wrapping around his waist, arms round his neck, her lower back resting against the side of the worktop both of them letting out a load moan of satisfaction as he pushed forward, all the way home.

Frank’s head dropped to Fliss’ shoulder, his mouth once more on the pulse point in her neck as he thrust into her, again and again, his hands on her back, keeping her supported slightly

“God you feel so good.” He mumbled, his lips moving back to hers as he set a pace that was torturously slow, and deep, and loving. Thrust after thrust he kept his lips either on hers or centimetres away, watching her intently as her pupils blew as he worked her up, driving into her, as deep as he could go, one hand resting at the back of her spine to keep her back from slamming into the harsh edge of the counter, the other guiding her head so he could kiss her, hard.

Her hands moved, the nails scraping lightly at the nape of his neck, and Frank felt himself falter for a split second at her touch.

“Fuck, Baby.” He groaned into her mouth as she grinned cheekily, her hands sliding down to his bare ass.

“Harder.” She urged him on, her voice sultry, desperate for him to pick up the pace. So he obliged, giving her what she wanted.

Because he always did.

Fliss held on to his ass for dear life, moaning with her body arching in his hands, his hips hitting hers hard with every thrust and before long she let out a loud groan, her hands tightening on his skin as she cried out as he quickened his pace even more, causing her to gasp his name, a broken mumble of the word before she let out a breathless gasp, her voice catching in her throat as the world began to tip on its axis.

“Come on, come for me Lissy…” He whispered, his breath hot on her ear. And that was it, she dropped over the edge, her head falling back as her hands slid up and grasped tightly on the hem of his shirt as she clenched around him, again and again, groaning and trembling, powerless to stop her body’s reactions. It took him another couple of thrusts before he gave a soft “oh” of pleasure, her name tumbled from his mouth before he bit down on her shoulder softly, reacting his own end. He gave a few erratic thrusts, pumping with short, deep strokes which sent her over another peak, but this was feeble as she collapsed forward, her head laying on his shoulder, utterly spent. They stayed still for a moment, chests heaving as Frank holding Fliss close to him, as they both evened out from their high.

“Love you.” She whispered softly, kissing the tip of his nose causing him to smile, that cheeky smile he saved just for her before his lips met hers again “Good, because I love you too sweetheart, more than you could ever know.”

*****

Once they had tidied themselves up and finished sorting the kitchen out, Alex decided it was time for a feed. They settled on the couch, Fliss nursing their son, Frank's arm round her shoulder, fingers tracing shapes on the top of her arm simply watching Alex feed. When he was done, Frank took him, having missed his morning cuddles with his boy and the three of them sat on the couch, Frank resting his feet on the coffee table, knees pointing to the ceiling so Alex could lay flat against his thighs looking up at his parents. His tiny hands fisted around Frank’s index fingers and he flashed his momma and daddy several huge baby smiles as they talked to him, Fliss capturing the moments on her phone. It wasn't long before his eyes grew heavy and Fliss felt hers doing the same so they set their son down to nap before settling down for one themselves. Fliss shifted so her head was lay in Frank's lap, his hand gently carding through her hair as they both succumbed to the fact neither had slept much the night before. The two of them woke with a jolt an hour and a half later when Mary walked in the door. In the afternoons she was allowed to walk from the school bus stop on the main road because three other kids came the same way and she could peel off from them up the long drive. She looked at the pair of them as they blinked themselves out of sleep and shook her head, telling them both that only old people and babies napped during the day and she wasn’t sure which category they fell into.

Once she had fully come round, Fliss changed into her riding gear ready to head back to the yard and gave a small yell of victory when she managed to fasten the button on her breeches. She walked into the family room and grinned at Frank, pointing out the fact she was back into her pants, even if they were elasticated slightly, and he smirked, giving her ass a stinging slap.

"I prefer you out of them." He quipped, his hands locking at the base of her spine.

Fliss chuckled, her hands curling round his biceps. "And I prefer you dirty but we can’t always have what we want, Sailor."

Frank wrinkled his nose "I already have what I want, Cowgirl" Fliss let out a groan and shook her head as Frank laughed. "I was being serious."

"Course you were, smooth bastard." Fliss rolled her eyes as he shrugged, leaning down to give her a soft kiss.

"You two are gross." Mary mumbled as she walked past them on her way to the fridge to grab a juice box.

“Feel free to leave.” Frank shot at her, “I have the number of a good Children’s Home.”

“Whatever.” She said, her voice airy as she skipped over to the large window seat, hopping up and opening her laptop.

By the end of the evening Fliss, however, had to concede Mary had a point. Frank had been particularly handsy all night, kissing her or touching her wherever he could. He was affectionate with her anyway, but he seemed to have stepped it up a notch for some reason.

"What's gotten into you?" Fliss asked him gently when they were getting ready for bed. Frank had just gotten out of the shower and the first thing he'd done upon walking back into their bedroom was pull her in for a searing kiss.

"I just...” He et out a soft sigh, and looked at her a little sheepishly. "If I’m honest, I’m a little concerned you let me off far too easily before so I'm, I dunno, a little thankful I guess."

Fliss cocked her head to one side, her hands sliding up his arms and coming to rest on his shoulders which were speckled with drops of water. "Sailor, it wasn't a case of letting you off easily. I just get that I was wrong too. I was more hurt with what you called me because I know you and I know you meant well so for you to snap like that, I must have pushed you…”

Frank dropped his head giving a heavy sigh. "Sweetheart, that’s not an excuse…”

"Shh." She abruptly cut him off with a finger over his lips. "It’s done, you called me a bitch, I called you an asshole. No one died, no one got struck down by lightning. We move on, okay?"

Frank looked at her, a soft smile on his face. "I love you so faking much" "Well now I know that's true since you gone all Boston on me again." She grinned as his arms circled round her back, pulling her close. His nose gently brushed hers before their lips locked together and with a smirk, Fliss reached down between them and untucked the edge of the towel which was wrapped around his hips, causing it to fall to the floor.

"Whoops." She grinned into the kiss as she gently pivoted shoving Frank gently on the chest. The movement was enough that, coupled with the backs of his knees hitting the bed he fell backwards and sat down as Fliss scrambled over to straddle him.

"Yeah, see, there's only one problem with this scenario." Frank grinned, his hands grasping at the hem of her top as his mouth nipped at her jaw. "You're wearing too many clothes."

"Why don’t you do something about it?" She challenged, her voice a breathy whisper. So he did.

**** Chapter 15

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

53 notes · View notes

teawizard-n-coffeewitch · 4 years ago

Text

The Staffordshire Spell

1. Spilled Coffee

The actress moves with grace as she proceeds to walk up the stairs and accept her Emmy. The audience clap and cheer as she smiles softly at them. The scene then unfolds to her walking down the red carpet, after the award ceremony and her red dress helping her stand out from all the other celebrities.

"Exquisite footage of Tina Goldstein-- the great movie star of our time -- an ideal -- the perfect star and woman -- her life full of glamour and sophistication and mystery." Newt mutters to himself as stops looking at the shop's teli (television) and continues on his way.

We follow him as he walks down Manor Drive Road, carrying a brown briefcase in one hand. It is spring.

"Of course, I've seen her films and always thought she was, well, fabulous -- but, you know, million miles from the world I live in. Which is here -- Staffordshire -- not a bad place to be..." Newt tells himself, exciting Manor Drive Road and entering Burton Market Hall.

"It's a full fruit market day." Newt thinks to himself, observing the countless of people swarming in both the inside market hall and outdoor market.

"There's the Outdoor Market on Market Place, Burton. Open on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Selling every fruit and vegetable known to man..." Newt points out, as he studies the cabbages when he walks beside the veggie stands.

Existing the market hall Newt notices a man in denims walking out of the tattoo studio. Newt shakes his head solemnly. "The tattoo parlour -- with a guy outside who got drunk and now can't remember why he chose 'I Love Ken'..." The man looks at his arm and has a confused face, and frowns, as if he were experiencing a headache.

Newt continues walking and passes the hair salon. "Ah, the racial hair-dressers where

everyone comes out looking like the Cookie Monster, whether they like it or not..." Newt teases and sure enough, a girl exits the salon with a huge threaded blue bouffant. Newt coughs back a laugh and walks quickly.

Before he knows it, it's Saturday and the Weekend Antique Market is in full swing. Newt smiles softly at the smiles of the tourists and locals, all shopping. "Then suddenly it's the weekend, and from break of day, hundreds of stalls appears out of nowhere, filling Burton upon Trent with a frantic crowd in the market... and thousands of people buy millions of antiques, some genuine..." Newt thinks, walking down the stands, studying the antiques.

His eyes settles on a stall selling beautiful stained glass windows of various sizes, some featuring biblical scenes and saints. "... and some not so genuine." Newt thinks, frowning a bit.

As Newt continues his walk, he passes by a familiar door. He smiles proudly. "And what's great is that lots of friends have ended up in this part of the United Kingdom -- that's Jacob, soldier turned baker from New York, who recently invested all the money he ever earned in a new bakery..."

Newt waves at Jacob as he's proudly setting out a board outside his bakery, the sign stating; Today's Special is Pumpkin Juice and macaroons! Jacob waves back at Newt with a huge smile.

"So this is where I spend my days and years -- in this small village in the middle of the U.K -- in a house with a Robin egg blue color door that I bought after best friend left me for a man who looked like Callum Turner back in London. That man being my older brother..." Newt thought to himself before he arrived outside his blue-doored house just off Peel's Cut.

"... and where I now lead a strange half-life with a lodger called..." Newt shuffles his keys back in his pocket as he yells, entering the house, "Credence!" Newt walks towards the large kettle in the house.

The house has far too many things in it. House plants, some dishes scattered, and a few clothes on the floor. Definitely two-bachelor flat.

Credence appears. An unusual looking fellow. He has his black hair in an unusual haircut, and an unusual Welsh accent: very white, as though his flesh has never seen the sun. He wears only shorts.

Credence smiles at Newt. "Even he. Hey, you couldn't help me with an incredibly important decision, could you?"

Newt smiles crouching down and puts on his gloves before he begins petting his temporary companion platypus, named Niffler. "This is important in comparison to, let's say, whether they should cancel third world debt?" he asks looking at Credence.

Credence nods, snapping his fingers happily. "That's right -- I'm at last going out on a date with the great Nagini and I just want to be sure I've picked the right t-shirt."

Newt closes the kettle and nods at Credence. "Alright then. What are the choices?"

Credence smirks proudly. "Well... wait for it..." He pulls on a t-shirt and shows Newt. "First there's this one..."

The t-shirt is white with a horrible looking plastic alien coming out of it, jaws open, blood everywhere. It says 'Avada Kedavra.'

Newt stays silent. Just eyeing the shirt. He smiled awkwardly as he stutters, "Yes -- might make it hard to strike a really romantic note.

Credence hums as he thinks. Nodding, he replies, "Point taken." He heads back up the stairs... and talks as he changes. "I suspect you'll prefer the next one." Newt smiles, intrigued at the next shirt Credence will show him.

He re-enters in a white t-shirt, with a large arrow, pointing down to his flies, saying, 'Get It Here.' Credence has a huge smile as he says smugly, "Cool, huh?"

Newt laughs softly before answering awkwardly, "Yes -- she might think you don't have true love on your mind."

Credence nods, taking Newt's advice. "You are right. Wouldn't want that..." he says and back up he goes up the stairs. "Okay -- just one more." Newt hears him speak loudly.

He comes down wearing the last shirt. The shirt has lots of hearts, saying, 'You're the most beautiful woman in the world.' Newt smiles approvingly.

"Well, yes, that's perfect. Well done." Newt says, holding a thumps up. Credence laughs happily. "Thanks. Great! Wish me luck!" Credence says.

Newt salutes him with two fingers, "Good luck."

Credence turns and walks upstairs proudly. As he does so, revealing that on the back of the t-shirt, also printed in big letters, is written 'Fancy a fuck?'

Newt chokes back a laugh before turning around, shaking his head. He puts on his long blue coat.

Newt then walks up towards a house plant and picks up his pet Phasmid. A green stick insect, whose name is Pickett. He grabs him on his hand and gets his brown brief case with his other hand. "Come along now." Newt tells Pickett as he opens the door and yells a farewell to Credence.

And so it was just another hopeless Saturday, as Newt sets off through the market to work, little suspecting that this was the day which would change his life forever. As Newt walks down the busy street a woman, with short dark hair and a dark long coat, dashes pass him. She covers half her face with her coat and Newt just gives her an odd look.

Finally he arrives. In front of a small corner bookshop. This is work, by the way, Newt's little Zoology book shop...

A few years ago he was a Zoologist at the London Zoo but now he owns his own Zoology bookstore. The reason being was because after his best friend left him he was devastated. Being in London hurt so much he moved far away and kept close to himself. When the opportunity presented itself, a small bookstore just a few houses down his home was perfect.

Thus why a small unpretentious shop... named 'Magical Creature Books' was in the street. The book shop, well, sells creature books -- and, to be frank with you, doesn't always sell many of those. Newt enters and sets Pickett down on the shop's bonsai tree. He studies his small shop. It is slightly chaotic, bookshelves everywhere, with little secret bits round corners with even more books.

Bunty, Newt's sole employee, is waiting enthusiastically. She is very keen, an uncrushable optimist. Perhaps without cause. She's a pretty small young woman with frizzy blonde locks and a sweet smile. Like Newt, she has a passion for zoology as well.

A few seconds later, after Newt has hung his blue coat, he stands gloomily behind the main desk.

"Classic. Absolutely classic. Profit from major sales push -- minus 347?" Newt mutters, punching in numbers on the calculator. Bunty frowns sadly at her boss's sad state. "Shall I go get a butter-beer? Ease the pain." Bunty suggest with a small smile. Newt smiles back.

"Yes, better get me a half. All I can afford." Newt sadly jokes as Bunty shakes her head with a soft laugh. "I get your logic. Butter-beer coming up." She salutes and bolts out the door. As she does, a woman walks in. Newt only catches a glimpse of her.

He continues working before he looks up casually and finally he sees her. His reaction is hard to read as he awes the woman. It's the same woman who dashed past him earlier. She takes off her shades and places them on her head. After a pause... Newt breaths calmly.

"Can I help you?" Newt asks, a bit nervously.

The woman who just entered is none other than Tina Goldstein, the biggest movie star in the world-- here -- in his shop. The most subtle woman on earth in his opinion. Newt is speechless. This cannot be happening. How? Why? In his shop? When she speaks she is very self-assured and self - contained.

"No, thanks. I'll just look around." Tina replies softly, her eyes with a spark of hesitant. Newt nods, "Alright then." He watches as she wanders around and picks out a small book on the coffee table.

Newt doesn't know how or why he did it but as Tina proceeds to open the book and skim through it, he can't help but blurt out, "That book's really not good-"

Tina stops and raises an eyebrow at him. Newt flushes awkwardly as he stammers, "J-Just in case, you...you know, boring turned to buying. You'd be wasting your money." He curses at himself for acting like such a fool.

"Really?" asks Tina, slightly finding Newt's red face amusing.

"Yes." Newt flushes before embarrassing himself more by adding, "This one though is... very good." He picks up a book on the counter.

"I think the man who wrote it has actually studied Komodo dragons, which helps. There's also a very amusing incident with its hatchlings." Newt stutters out, scratching his back neck nervously.

Tina just stares at him before she replies, "Thanks. I'll think about it." Before he can apologize for acting like a fool Newt suddenly spies something odd on the small TV monitor beside him.

He gives Tina an apologetic look as he mumbles, "If you could just give me a second." Newt then walks out of his main desk. Tina's eyes follow him as he moves toward the back of the shop and approaches a man in slightly ill-fitting clothes. She studies at how he'll approach the situation.

"Excuse me." Newt begins, a bit nervous. The man raises an eyebrow at Newt. "Yes?" he asks, giving Newt an odd look. Newt winces, knowing this won't be easy. "Bad news." Newt begins.

"What?" the man asks in an annoyed tone. "We've got a security camera in this bit of the shop." Newt says. The man tries to keep it cool as he shoots back a, "So?"

Newt crosses his arms, trying to act a bit confident. "So, I saw you put that book down your trousers." The man just stares at him.

"What book?" he challenges. Newt sighs. "The one down your trousers." he adds embarrassed.

"I haven't got a book down my trousers." the man snaps to which Newt's ears turn red. "Right -- well, then we have something of an impasse. I tell you what -- I'll call the police -- and, what can I say? Er -- If I'm wrong about the whole book-down-the-trousers scenario, I sincerely apologize." Newt offers to which the man stays silent for a moment.

"Okay -- what if I did have a book down my trousers?" asks the man to which Newt replies, "Well, ideally, when I went back to the desk, you'd remove the Mythologies of Basilisk Snakes from your trousers, and either wipe it and put it back, or buy it. See you in a sec." Newt says before returning to his desk. In the monitor Newt glimpse, seeing the book coming out of the trousers and put back on the shelves.

The man drifts out towards the door. Tina who has observed all this, is looking at the book on the counter, the one Newt suggested.

"Sorry about that..." Newt apologies to Tina as she walks up to the cash register and places the book she was skimming through.

"No, that's fine. I was going to steal one myself but now I've changed my mind." she lightly teases before seeing how the book she was about to purchase had a signature. "Signed by the author, I see." she points out to which Newt replies with a soft laugh, "Yes, we couldn't stop him. If you can find an unsigned copy, it's worth an absolute fortune. That's Gilderoy Lockhart for you."

Tina gives him a small nervous smile. Suddenly the thief man is there, standing right beside Tina.

"Excuse me." he begins. Tina looks at him. "Yes?" she answers. "Can I have your autograph?" he asks, making Tina look a bit uncomfortable before nodding. He gives her a piece of paper and pen and she gets it.

"What's your name?" Tina asks him boldly. "Tom." the young man replies to which Tina nods. She signs his scruffy piece of paper and gives it to him. He tries to read it before asking, "What does it say?"

"Well, that's the signature -- and above, it says 'Dear Tom -- you belong in Azkaban.' " Tina says without missing a beat.

"Nice one. Would you like my phone number?" Tom asks to which Tina smiles and acts as if she's thinking deeply. "Tempting..." she begins breaking out of her thoughts, "but... no, thank you."

The man, Tom, then leaves, leaving Newt and Tina alone.

"I apologize about that." Newt begins, making Tina shake her head and hold her hand out to stop him from apologizing.

She hands Newt a twenty euros note and the book he said was rubbish. He talks as he handles the transaction. "Oh -- right -- on second thoughts maybe it wasn't that bad. Actually -- it's a sort of masterpiece really. None of those childish mythology stories you get in so many books these days." Newt word vomits out nervously as she looks at him with a slight smile.

He gives her the book she just purchased with a small smile. "Thanks." Tina says and walks out the shop quietly. And leaves. She's out of his life forever.

Newt leans on his desk, a little dazed. Seconds later Bunty comes back in, with two butter-beers at hand.

She gives Newt his. "Thanks. I don't think you'll believe who was just in here." Bunty's face breaks out with a shock expression as she asks, "Who? Was it someone famous?"

But Newt's innate natural English discretion takes over. He knows better than to expose Tina's whereabouts.

"No. No-one -- no-one." Newt replies causing Bunty to frown. They set about drinking their butter-beers.

"It be exciting if someone famous did come into the shop though, wouldn't it? Do you know -- this is pretty incredible actually -- I once saw Grindelwald. Or at least I think it was Grindelwald. It might have been that broke from 'Pirates of The Caribbean,' John."

"Johnny." Newt corrects Bunty as she snaps her fingers. "That's right -- Johnny." Bunty repeats the name with a smile.

"But Johnny Depp doesn't look anything like Grindelwald." says Newt as he finishes his butter-beer.

"No, well... he was quite a long way away." Bunty points out. "So it could have been neither of them?"

"I suppose so." Bunty says slowly. "Right. It's not a classic anecdotes, is it?" asks Newt. "Not classic, no." she says.

Bunty shakes his head. Newt takes her empty butter-beer cup and throws it in the garbage can, along his.

"Right -- want another one?" Newt asks her to which she nods. "Yes. No, wait -- let's go crazy -- I'll have an ice coffee."

Newt groans but obeys her order. And so be it, Newt sets off to the only place in the street that makes coffee; Jacob's bakery.

Entering the bakery Jacob pulls him into a hug and decides to catch up on their morning. Newt desperately desires to tell Jacob about Tina but in the end, decides to not. Jacob gives Newt two ice coffees and teases him about finally acting like an American. Newt rolls his eyes as he collects his coffee.

He swings out of Jacob's bakery, biding him a farewell and as he turns the corner of the road he accidentally bumps straight into someone.

That someone being Tina! The cold coffees, in its paper cups, fly out of Newt's grasps, soaking Tina.

"Oh Mercy Lewis!" Tina gasps as her white button shirt is soaked in black coffee. She tightens her hands on her brown bags.

"Oh I am so so sorry. I really do apologize!" Newt stutters as he tries helping Tina.

"Here, let me help." Newt offers as he grabs the paper napkins that came with the coffees and tries to clean the soaked coffee off -- getting far too near her breasts in the panic of it...

Tina jumps back as she snaps, "What are you doing?!" Newt jumps back, realizing his stupid mistake.

"Nothing, nothing... I swear! Look, uh..I live just over the street. Uh... you could get cleaned up." he offers awkwardly as she glares at him.

"No thank you. I need to get my car back." Tina replies, trying to wipe the coffee out of her shirt.

"I also have a phone." Newt mumbles. "I'm confident that in five minutes we can have you

spick and span and back on the street again... in the non-prostitute sense obviously."

In his diffident way, he is confident, despite her being genuinely annoyed. She sighs before she turns and looks at him.

"Okay. So what does 'just over the street' mean -- give it to me in yards." Tina orders, placing her hand on her forehead, as if she were experiencing a headache.

"Eighteen yards." Newt automatically replies, surprising himself. He points to his house's blue door. "That's my house there. The one with the Robin egg blue color door."

Tina's eyes follow his finger and she sees that he doesn't lie -- it is eighteen yards away. She looks down, debating if she should allow him to escort her or not.

She looks up at Newt and nods softly. He nods and together they walk towards Newt's house.

They pass by many people but no one seems to recognize Tina. She is once again, hiding her face with her black coat and shades.

They both enter Newt's house and stand in the corridor. She carries a few stylish bags. She gives Newt an uncertain look.

"Come on in. I'll just..." he begins and walks in further -- it's a mess. He kicks some old shoes

under the stairs, picks up Pickett's scattered food and hides a plate of Credence's breakfast in a cupboard. Tina enters the kitchen slowly.

"It's not that tidy, I fear." Newt apologizes, as he stands nervously.

Tina doesn't seem to mind and realizing why she's in his house in the first place, he guides her up the stairs, after taking the bag of books from her and settling them down the stairs. On top of a small coffee table.

"The bathroom is right at the top of the stairs and there's a phone on the desk up there." Newt tells Tina as he tries gesturing with his hand where the bathroom is. Tina nods and she heads upstairs.

The second Newt hears the bathroom door close he enters the kitchen and goes mad. He's tidying up frantically; from throwing dishes in the sink, to wiping the long wooden table clean, and sweeping. Then he hears Tina's movement on the stairs. Newt stops and sees as she walks down, wearing a new set of white jeans and a blue silk shirt beneath her black coat. Newt is utterly dazzled by the sight of her.

"Would you like a cup of tea before you go?" Newt asks, trying to cut the awkward silence.

"No thanks." Tina replies.

"Pumpkin Juice?"

"No."

"What about coffee -- oh- er-probably not." Newt says as he moves to his very empty fridge -- and offers its only contents. "Something else cold -- soda, water, some disgusting sugary drink pretending to have something to do with fruits of the forest?" he offers as Tina stares at him.

"Really, no." she insists.

"Would you like something to nibble -- apricots, soaked in honey -- quite why, no one knows -- because it stops them tasting of apricots, and make them taste like honey, and if you wanted honey, you'd just buy honey, instead of apricots, but nevertheless -- um -- they're yours if you want them." Newt stutters holding the glass jar of apricots soaked in honey.

"No." Tina answers, as she observes Newt make a fool out of himself.

There is a moment of silence before Newt, stupidly but boldly asks, "Do you always say 'no' to everything?"

There is a pause. Frankly because Tina did not expect Newt to ask her a question so... striking. She looks at him deep and cocks her head to a side before replying softly, "No."

There is silence again but it's not awkward. It's a moment of peace before Tina breaks it, saying, "I better be going. Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome and, may I also say... heavenly." Newt says as he closes the fridge door, leading Tina back to the corridor, "It has taken a lot to get this out loud. He is not a smooth - talking man." Newt takes a deep breath before says daring, "Take my one chance to say it. After you've read that terrible book, you're certainly not going to be coming back to the shop."

Tina looks at him and smiles. She's cool and well amused at his opinion for that book she bought.

"Thank you."

Newt looks down nervously, "Yes. Well. My pleasure."

He guides her towards the house's blue door. "Nice to meet you. Surreal but nice." Newt reveals causing Tina to silently laugh. In a slightly awkward moment, he shows her out the door. She gives him a nod before stepping out. He closes the door and shakes his head in wonder. Then slaps his forehead as he mutters, " 'Surreal but nice.' What was I thinking?"

He shakes his head again in horror and wanders back along the corridor in silence. There's a knock on the door. He moves back, speaking up, "Coming."

He opens the door and is surprised. It's her.

#newtina #newt scamander #tina goldstein #fantastic beats and where to find them #fbawtft #salamander eyes

22 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

Text

Riding On Ch 14: Compromise

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

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

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Yeah, yeah, ok some of you were pretty mad at me at the end of the last chapter so I hope this makes up for it…

Chapter Song: Don’t Go Away by Oasis

Series Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

Me and you, what's going on? All we seem to know is how to show the feelings that are wrong.

So don't go away, say what you say, but say that you'll stay, forever and a day in the time of my life 'Cause I need more time, yes, I need more time, just to make things right

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

Instead he decided to head upstairs and wait for her to come back up, only she never did. He lay awake for another hour or so before his eyes could no longer stay open. But a mere 2 hours after finally succumbing to sleep he was woken by his alarm to find Fliss' side of the bed still empty.

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

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

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

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

"Ok." He nodded, turning to Mary "what about you short stack? Cereal, toast..."

"Do we have any waffles?"

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

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

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

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

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

"As in sleep over?"

Mary nodded. Frank turned to Fliss who looked at him and shrugged. "It's fine by me." She said.

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

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

Mary beamed "that sounds great."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fliss shrugged, "its fine..."

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

"Yeah..." she tipped her head to look at him."Yeah he is." She studied her baby’s profile for a moment, noticing just how alike his nose and eye shape was to Frank’s, before she shook herself back to the here and now. "I'll take Friday's afternoon lessons. Call everyone who was booked on and offer them back a place."

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

"It’s an hour." Fliss said, shrugging "my mom will watch him or he can nap in the office. It’s cool enough and the baby monitor is wired to my phone..."

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

"At least you recognise that." Fliss mumbled.

"Huh?" Joanne frowned and Fliss shook her head

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

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

Fliss smiled before she placed Alex in the stroller and she pushed him over the yard towards the path that led down to the various fields the horses were in. She walked, Thor running ahead slightly, sniffing at any interesting smells he found, and Fliss smiled as her old faithful mare gave a loud whinny and came trotting to her field gate. "Hey Hides." She reached out to stroke her nose "how you doing?"

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

"Hi Bonnie."

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

Fliss gave a little chuckle “Oh babes, that’s fantastic!”

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

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

"Fliss?" Bonnie's voice hit her ear "you still there?" "Yeah sorry...was just...it doesn't matter. Friday sounds great."

"Are you OK?" Bonnie asked.

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

"What about?"

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

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

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

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

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

"What him wanting me to be a stay at home mom?"

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

“Thanks Bon...oh and congratulations again. I'm so happy for you." Fliss changed to subject, focusing on the reason her best friend had called in the first place. “Oh, and send me a photo if your diamond! I wanna see it!" ***** Frank tapped at the keyboard, scanning the list of jobs, his mind whirring. He needed something physical to do today, to keep him focussed and his mind off thinking about what an asshole he’d been last night and early this morning. As he realised all the repair jobs had been allocated, he gave a low growl of frustration.

“You alright Frank?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We all say shit we don’t mean in the heat of the moment.” Alan said wisely “Christ, if I had a dollar for every time me and Annette had hurled abuse at one another, well I’d have 6 of these damned shops instead of just 1.”

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

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

Frank took a deep breath, licking his lips.

“It’s really bothering you isn’t it?” Alan said gently and Frank raised his eyebrows.

“We’ve argued before…” he said, “This just…I dunno. It’s the first time she ever frustrated me enough to make me say such a shitty thing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely.” Frank grinned “Thanks Alan.”

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

Frank nodded “I’ll do my best.”

"Hi." Her tone was flat.

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

"No, I mean yeah...sorta...was just out walking with Thor and Alex down the fields." She cut him off, her tone maintaining neutral. He supposed he should be thankful she wasn’t ranting at him.

"Ok. Well I'm coming home." he informed her

"Why?" her voice was puzzled.

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

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

"Baby don't cry." He said softly, the lump in his throat growing bigger. “Please…”

"Sorry I just..." she took a deep breath "I'll see you in half an hour or so"

And with that she hung up.

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

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

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

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

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

He shouldn't have done it. That was a given but in the grand scheme of things, as she knew only too well, there were far worse things he could do. But he never would. Because he loved her and he wasn't that type of man. He'd die before he hurt a single hair on her head, on any of their heads for that matter. She glanced at Alex, where he lay, his bright blue eyes looking up at her and she wiped her eyes, taking a deep breath.

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, I do too.” He said, pulling back a little to cup her face. He wiped her tears with his thumbs, blinking back his own. “I was out of order calling you what I did. I’m so disgusted in myself honey, I can’t…”

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

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

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

“I know, but…”

“No buts, ok?” she said, standing on her toes to lightly brush her lips against his. “Come on, I made lunch.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just want you to take time, not to rush things.” He said gently. “But if going back to work and expanding is what you really wanna do then…”

“No, it’s not.” She shook her head “Well, it is but you’re right. I was over there before with Joanne looking at the diary and it would be too much. I don’t want to miss out on him growing up. I mean, God, I go to sleep at night and wake up in the morning and I swear he’s changed in the hours we’ve been asleep.”

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

“A compromise.” Frank smiled and Fliss shrugged.

“Yeah, I can be reasonable at times.”

“Sounds good to me.” Frank nodded

“You don’t need to explain…”

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

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

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

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

“It won’t take me long” she shrugged “Honestly I don’t mind.”

“Are we gonna have an argument now about who does the dishes?” he teased and she let out a soft laugh.

“No, because they’re going in Dusty.” “You know, I never met anyone who named a dishwasher before.” Frank teased as he moved to grab a tupperware container to place the left over pasta in.

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

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

“Why not? Come one we haven’t been out together since before he was born. We can grab dinner, a few drinks…”

“No, I mean….there might be something planned.” Fliss said, tossing the cloth she’d been wiping the place they’d just eaten down with into the sink.

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

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

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

“OK, well, we can grab an earlier dinner and meet them after.” He reasoned “Hey, there’s another compromise.”

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

“I know something else we’re kinda good at too…” he grinned and she scoffed, arching an eyebrow.

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

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

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

Fliss bit her lip, her hands sliding up his arms. “Yeah, can you go to the garage and maybe smear a bit of oil or motor grease onto your arms…maybe a bit on your cheek?”

“You have an unhealthy obsession with dirt, you know that?” he looked at her and she shook her head.

“No, I have an unhealthy obsession with dirt on you…” she corrected, her arms once more round his neck. “I totally loathe Alex’s nappy changes, for the record.”

Frank snorted “Yeah, they’re not great. Just wait till he starts solids.”

“Yeah, ok, stop talking shit Frank and fuck me.”

“Talking shit…” he said, completely ignoring her request despite the fucking hotwire it had sent to his already half erect cock “I see what you did there.”

“Whatever, get on with the other part.”

“Which was?” he teased.

She looked at him, realising instantly he was playing around so she smirked a little and leaned forward, her lips brushing his ear. “Fuck me, Adler.”

“But I’m not covered in dirt…” he said, turning his head to look at her, his lips ghosting hers.

“Now you are.” She looked at him, as he stared at her in shock, open mouthed before he gave a scoff.

“You want me to fuck you Cowgirl, you’re gonna have to lick that off my face.”

Her eyes locked onto his, she stuck her finger in her mouth sucking it clean and his eyes darkened a little as she released it with a loud pop and gave a shrug.

“Ok.” She smirked, her hand tangling in his hair as she pulled his head towards her. She gently placed her mouth against his face, sucking and licking at the offending food, making her way down his cheek to his jaw line, where she continued her affections. Frank gave a sigh, tipping his head slightly to give her more access as she skated across his short whiskers to the other side, her kisses trailing back upwards before her mouth caught his again.

“God I fucking love you…” he mumbled, his arms pulling her closer.

“Yeah?” she asked as his hands gripped at her hips.

“Yeah…” he said, standing in between her legs, his mouth dropping to her neck. She rolled her head back, as he nipped at her pulse-point, before his lips moved to that hollow at the bottom of her throat, his beard scratching her skin as his lips slid back up to hers and he kissed her hard. His hands moved to pop the button on her jeans before he gently grasped at the waistband and she shifted to allow him to pull them down over her legs, tossing them to one side. His hands slipped up underneath the blue top she was wearing, pulling down the cups of her bra. His hands gently teased at her nipples, all the time listening to the soft noises and groans she was making as he continued, his nose brushing against hers, smiling softly.

“You like that?” he whispered, knowing full well that she did, but he knew she liked his soft dirty talk and she gave a sigh and a nod, followed by a little squeak as he shifted her underwear to one side and pushed two fingers insider her.

“Need you…” she purred into his ear “Please.”

And when she asked like that, he was always powerless to refuse. This woman was his absolute weakness.

Frank’s head dropped to Fliss’ shoulder, his mouth once more on the pulse point in her neck as he thrust again, his hands on her back, keeping her supported slightly

“God you feel so good…” he said, his lips moving back to hers as he set a pace that was torturously slow, and deep, and loving. Thrust after thrust he kept his lips either on hers or centimetres away, watching her intently as her pupils blew as he worked her up, driving into her, as deep as he could go, one hand resting at the back of her spine to keep her back from slamming into the harsh marble edge of the counter, the other guiding her head so he could kiss her, hard.

Her hands moved, the nails scraping lightly at the nape of his neck, and Frank felt himself falter for a split second at her touch.

“Fuck baby…” he groaned into her mouth as she grinned cheekily, her hands sliding down to his bare ass.

“Harder, please Frankie…” she urged him on, her voice sultry, desperate for him to pick up the pace. So be obliged, giving her what she wanted.

Because he always did.

She held on to his ass for dear life, moaning with her body arching in his hands, the fabric of his jeans chafed delectably against her thighs, his hips hitting hers hard with every thrust and before long she let out a loud groan, her hands tightening on his skin as she cried out as he quickened his pace even more, causing her to gasp his name, a broken mumble of the word “Frankie…” before she let out a breathless gasp, her voice catching in her throat as the world began to tip on its axis.

“Come on, come for me Lissy…” he whispered, his breath hot on her ear. And that was it, she dropped over the edge, her head falling back as her hands slid up and grasped tightly on the hem of his shirt as she clenched around him, again and again, groaning and trembling, powerless to stop her body’s reactions. It took him another couple of thrusts before he gave a soft “oh” of pleasure, her name tumbled from his mouth before he bit down on her shoulder softly, reacting his own end. He gave a few erratic thrusts, pumping with short, deep strokes which sent her over another peak, but this was feeble as she collapsed forward, her head laying on his shoulder, utterly spent. They stayed still for a moment, the only sound in the room was their deep breathing, Frank holding her close to him, as they both evened out from their high.

“Love you…” she said softly, kissing the tip of his nose causing him to smile, that cheeky smile he saved just for her before his lips met hers again

“Good, because I love you too sweetheart, more than you could ever know.”

*****

The two of them woke with a jolt an hour and a half later when Mary walked in the door. In the afternoons she was allowed to walk from the school bus stop on the main road because 3 other kids came the same way and she could peel off from them up the long drive. She looked at the pair of them as they blinked themselves out of sleep and shook her head, telling them both that only old people and babies napped during the day.

"I prefer you out of them." He quipped, his hands locking at the base of her spine

Fliss chuckled, her hands curling round his biceps. "And I prefer you dirty but we can’t always have what we want, Sailor."

Frank wrinkled his nose "I already have what I want Cowgirl"

Fliss let out a groan and shook her head as Frank laughed. "I was being serious."

"Course you were, smooth bastard." Fliss rolled her eyes as he shrugged, leaning down to give her a soft kiss.

"You two are gross..." Mary mumbled as she walked past to the fridge to grab a juice box.

“Feel free to leave.” Frank shot at her, “I have the number of a good Children’s Home…”

“Whatever…” she said, her voice airy as she skipped over to the large window seat, hopping up and opening her laptop.

By the end of the evening Fliss, however, had to concede Mary had a point. Frank had been particularly handsy all night, kissing her or touching her wherever he could.

"What's gotten into you?" She asked him gently when they were getting ready for bed. Frank had just gotten out of the shower and the first thing he'd done upon walking back into their bedroom was pull her in for a searing kiss.

"I just..." he let out a soft sigh, and looked at her a little sheepishly "I’m a little concerned you let me off far too easily before so I'm, I dunno, a little thankful I guess.”

Fliss cocked her head to one side, her hands sliding up his arms and coming to rest on his shoulders which were speckled with drops of water. "Sailor, it wasn't a case of letting you off easily.

I just get that I was wrong too. If I'm honest I was more hurt with what you called me because I know you and I know you meant well so for you to snap like that, I must have pushed you…”

Frank dropped his head giving a heavy sigh. "Sweetheart, that’s not an excuse…” "Shh." She abruptly cut him off with a finger over his lips. "Stop apologising. It’s done, you called me a bitch, I called you an asshole. No one died, no one got struck down by lightning...we move on. Ok?"

Frank looked at her, a soft smile on his face. "I love you so faking much"

"Well now I know that's true since you gone all Boston on me..." she grinned as his arms circled round her back, pulling her close. His nose gently brushed hers before their lips locked together and with a smirk, Fliss reached down between them and untucked the edge of the towel which was wrapped around his hips, causing it to fall to the floor.

"Yeah, see, there's only one problem with this scenario..." Frank said, his hands grasping at the hem of her top as his mouth nipped at her jaw. "You're wearing too many clothes."

"Why don’t you do something about it?" She said, her voice a breathy whisper. So he did.

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #gifted #gifted fan fic

73 notes · View notes

boonki · 4 years ago

Text

something there, something more

a little continuation of a fever prompt, the first part here and the second part by @sonderwalker here! from this prompt list

Cheers to our pining boys stuck together in the snow

______

The email he had been anxiously awaiting for dings his phone, and in the early morning light of his room, only a single lamp to illuminate the intimate space, he rolls over in bed to fumble it from the nightstand, blinking at the bright screen.

To the University of Washington community,

For the safety of our students and staff, classes have been cancelled for the day due to the snow conditions and road closures. Please wait for updates from your teachers on how best to proceed with assignments and exams. Updates on future cancellations will be issued nightly no later than 7 pm. Best,

President Palpatine

The same giddy relief that once met him as a college student still worms its way into his heart as a professor, an unexpected day off, no plans ahead of him, just hours and hours of free time. Except, he supposes, a quick email out to his students to continue their essays as normal and wait for the update on Friday’s class. He isn’t sad about losing the day’s lesson plan, it had mostly been a filler class.

He hums lazily, a sleepy grin pulling his lips back.

For the first time in weeks, he clicks the lock button and rolls over, stuffing his face into his pillow, and falls back asleep.

___

Hours later, the sun already cresting in the sky, hidden behind layers and layers of clouds shedding snow, he pads around his kitchen, pulling ingredients out of his fridge and pantry: carrots, chicken, celery, chicken broth, some garlic, an onion, and some noodles.

When he was younger, his mom had always whipped together chicken noodle soup on the colder days, and when she passed away when he was a teenager, he kept the tradition alive. In the silent, airy space of the kitchen, he feels closer to her cutting up the ingredients and carefully dropping them into the pot, can feel her gentle hand guiding him. The ache of her death has long since passed, but Obi-wan can’t help but wish she were here with him, oiling the stove for the chicken and passing him the garlic to press.

Somehow, in the many, many years since her death, the habit of cooking for two hasn’t left him; every time he makes this recipe, he ends up with days worth of leftovers.

The wood floor is cold beneath his bare feet; he didn’t think to put warm clothing on before coming downstairs, head still foggy from sleeping past noon. He knows his hair is sticking out in every direction, and that he could probably use a quick beard trim, but there isn’t anyone to judge him here. No pets, no roommates, just him and his big empty house.

The smell of the soup bubbles up at him: rich and inviting. He takes a spoon and sips on the broth, using his teeth to grab a very hot carrot that mashes easily in his mouth, a good sign that he can turn the heat down to let it simmer while he gets ready for the day. Some small part of him knows his destination, but the majority of him is still in denial. He has so much soup to share, though. Why let it go to waste? Besides, it’ll be a quick drop off so he can come home and finish the blanket he’s knitting, maybe read a few chapters of his library books. There’s something about an expected day off that makes the mundane feel enthralling.

He pads back upstairs, lost in thought as he goes through the motions of pulling a sturdy wool sweater over his head, brushing his teeth, combing his hair back, ignoring the shoddy state of his beard. Anakin had looked so horrible the other day, all pale skin and hollowed out eyes, his voice catching on itself, and god, his cough. Worry pangs Obi-wan’s heart, did Anakin have anyone to take care of him? Make sure he doesn’t die of a fever? He can’t go out in this weather to get take-out, and there’s no way he would be cooking with the state he’s in.

In the back of his head, Obi-wan knows there are very large excuses he’s making for the car crash of the truth: he wants to go see Anakin.

When he gets back downstairs, the soup is perfect. His mom would be proud.

___

Snow cakes the road ahead of him, and what should have been a ten minute drive turns into a forty minute one. Obi-wan thinks he has at least six different knots in his back and neck from sitting so close to the steering wheel the entire time, peering intently through the fast-paced windshield wipers as if the effort of looking harder would have any effect on his ability to see in front of him. When he finally pulls up in front of Anakin’s apartment building and finds a neat little spot to back his car into, he lets out a deep breath and slumps into his seat. Maybe this was not as good of an idea as he had hoped it would be.

He hadn’t even texted. Should he text Anakin? Is showing up at his door, soup in hand, too much? Too forward? Obi-wan is already anxious about pushing the bounds of their relationship too far; what if Anakin thought he was trying to groom him, thought he was a creepy old man with nothing better to do?

Obi-wan hits his head against the steering wheel.

The weird thing is, he doesn’t mind how inappropriate their relationship had become. Obi-wan had liked coming to his building, liked texting him about casual plans. He just worries his enthusiasm is one-sided.

It’s been so long since he’s had anything resembling a relationship, so he feels brand new to it again; it’s like riding a bike: the skill will never leave you, but if you take a ten year gap, you might need to wobble a bit before you glide. Obi-wan is wobbling.

Because he does have a crush, doesn’t he? Isn’t that why he’s here, sitting in his cooling car with homemade soup, outside of some boy’s apartment building? Why else would he go to such measures- especially on his day off? God, he feels so juvenile.

He hits his head on the steering wheel again.

The cold is starting to seep through the seams of the car, so he takes a deep breath, grabs his soup, and steps out into the snow. It crunches underneath his boots, leaving a trail of footprints all the way to the door of the building, which swings open easily for Obi-wan.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket. Anakin had texted which one he lived in, but it had felt too… like too much, last time he came. He hadn’t wanted to intrude on Anakin’s personal space.

#344.

The elevator ride is both too short and too fast, his anxiety rising with each floor. What if Anakin didn’t like chicken noodle soup? He definitely should’ve texted. But the doors glide open and the wide expanse of the hall looms in front of him, stretching for what seems like forever in both directions. The floorplan seems to be circular; a little guide that reads “301-322 left, 323-344 right” with arrows points him in the right direction, so he sets off to the right, each step waking up a new butterfly in his stomach.

When he reaches 344, he stares at the door for a moment, considering the fact that Anakin is on the other side of the thin wall, completely unaware of Obi-wan. Something yanks at him to turn back, but Obi-wan would feel even more pathetic if he went home with a full bowl of soup, and Anakin does probably need it, so. Here goes nothing.

The bell ding-dongs from the interior, the sound muffled. Obi-wan hears nothing, and then slow footsteps and a lock being unlatched.

Anakin is wearing his sweater.

“Obi-w- Professor Kenobi, hey,” Anakin rasps out, eyes wide open, clearly startled, and sounding a bit better than he had a few days ago, but not by much. His bangs are held back by a little clip, shooting a tuft of hair straight into the air. “Sorry if I missed your text, I’ve been asleep-”

“Ah,” Obi-wan shuffles in place, embarrassed. “I didn’t text, which I realize now that I should have, but-”

“No,” Anakin cuts in, “that’s okay.”

They stand there in awkward silence before Anakin points at the bowl Obi-wan is clutching to his chest.

“You brought soup?”

Obi-wan looks down to the container like he’s never seen it before, cheeks burning like lava. “Yes! I, well, you see my mother and I always made soup when it snowed, and I always make extra, so I thought you’d, well,” he chances a peek at Anakin, whose features are slackened in a soft smile, “I thought you could use some given that you’re sick and it’s snowing.”

“Have you eaten yet?” Anakin asks, ignoring his bumbling explanation.

“No,” he thinks back, “I didn’t get the chance.”

Anakin drags his door open and steps back, gesturing for Obi-wan to come inside. “Let’s share, then.”

Obi-wan balks at the open door, because he knows once he crosses that threshold there is no going back between them. He’d have officially been in Anakin’s apartment, sharing homemade soup with Anakin, taking care of him while he’s sick. The intimacy of seeing how someone lives, to see all the details of their existence on display, who they are when no one else is around… that sort of intimacy frightens Obi-wan.

“I don’t want to be an imposition,” he starts, only to get cut off by a particularly nasty sneeze from Anakin. “Bless you.”

“You’re not, so come on.” Anakin reaches forward and tugs on his arm, and really, Obi-wan has no choice.

While he had never actively imagined Anakin’s living space, he had always assumed it would be something akin to a sparse bachelor pad, dirty and meant for college students who couldn’t afford any better. But this is a pleasant surprise: a black rug and couch sits neatly against the wall of a tidy and cozy living room, branching off to a kitchen and a door Obi-wan assumes is Anakin’s bedroom. There are a few mirrors behind the couch, and a few (fake?) plants spotted around the room, even a candle on the coffee table.

Anakin leads him into the kitchen and Obi-wan sees now this is where the mess lies; computer parts, nuts, bolts, tools, and loose wires scatter the counter, leaving little room for anything else save the sink and a hand towel. He stands there and waits for Anakin to clear a space for the bowl, muttering about how he didn’t know company would be over otherwise he would’ve picked up a little.

Obi-wan doesn’t know if he even wants to ask what Anakin is making.

The bowl is transferred into the microwave, cooking for a few minutes on low to properly reheat, and Obi-wan sets out to find some spoons so he’s not left in awkward, still silence.

“Sorry there’s no table, I never really have anyone over and it takes up so much space, so,” Anakin is blushing, either embarrassed to have someone over or still running a fever. Maybe a bit of both. “Oh, here, in that drawer,” he motions to Obi-wan, crowding into his space to pull open the drawer. Obi-wan stiffens at their proximity; he can feel the heat pouring off of Anakin, and he grips the spoons like his life depends on it.

They perch by the counter, listening to the hum of the microwave.

“What are you doing during winter break?” Anakin asks him, breaking the quiet.

Obi-wan breaths in, thinking of his answer. “I’m not sure, probably just relax. Maybe work on my library books, plan for winter quarter.”

Anakin scoffs, and it turns into a full blown hacking spree. When he’s done, he winces. “Sorry, your plans are so sad my whole body freaked out.”

He snorts. “My plans aren’t sad. What are you doing, then?”

“Well, now that I’ve graduated, I suppose I should be looking for a job, so probably that.” Anakin stares up at the soup rotating in the microwave in contemplation.

Something small and sad tugs at Obi-wan’s heart. He had forgotten that Anakin wouldn’t be around anymore. No more impromptu office visits.

“But,” Anakin continues, “it would be nice to have help with my resume and interviewing.” He glances at Obi-wan out of the corner of his eyes.

The microwave beeps: the soup is finished reheating.

“Of course, I’d be happy to help.” Obi-wan says, warmth flooding his tone. He’s grateful that Anakin still wants him in his life, still wants his help.

Anakin sniffles and splits the soup into two bowls, handing one to Obi-wan, who is still holding both their spoons.

“You wanna watch something? We can sit on the couch.” Anakin says, and motions for Obi-wan to follow. Obi-wan tentatively settles into the couch, which is surprisingly cushy, as Anakin flips open Netflix and pulls up The Great British Baking Show.

“Is this okay? It’s kind of addictive.” Anakin looks suddenly self-conscious about his choice in television, grabbing a set of glasses from his coffee table. They are way too big for him and nearly slide down his nose in seconds. Obi-wan might combust.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

Anakin shifts. “Only to see long distances, I mostly just use them for watching things.”

Obi-wan nods at that, and throws a hand up in the air towards the TV screen. “This is fine, I like cooking shows.”

“They’re definitely my guilty pleasure, I’ve always wished I was better at cooking.” Anakin blows on the soup on his spoon, eyes glued to the TV.

The hosts introduce the challenge, and Obi-wan looks down at his soup, stirring it all absentmindedly. “I can teach you, if you want. My mom passed a lot onto me before she, well.” Obi-wan smiles at him. “I’d like to think I’m a pretty good cook.”

Anakin pushes his glasses back on his face. “If the soup is anything to go by, I believe you.”

He chuckles, shifting his attention back to the TV. Helping Anakin find a job, teaching him how to cook- they’re both just trying to find excuses to stay in each other’s lives. It’d be endearing if it weren’t so sad.

The episode drags out, a winner is named and someone gets sent home, and Anakin and Obi-wan are long finished with their soup, the bowls having been discarded onto the coffee table a while ago. When the credits roll, neither of them get up, and the next episode autoplays. Obi-wan hopes he isn’t overstaying his visit, but Anakin seems comfortable and relaxed. Anakin offers him a blanket, and Obi-wan drapes it over his lower body, slouching further into the couch.

Over the next few hour long episodes, they seem to inch closer, fully lounging now. Jokes are made, laughter is shared, and Obi-wan keeps handing him tissues, grateful that he isn’t wiping his snot on the sweater’s sleeve.

He still can’t believe he’s sitting here on Anakin’s couch, watching a cooking show, while Anakin sits next to him wearing one of his sweaters.

Maybe he is the one with a delirious fever?

The fourth episode draws to a close, and Obi-wan spares a glance at one of the windows, where the afternoon had faded into evening. “I still don’t think she should have won, did you see the state of her frosting?” He stands up and stretches, sighing in relief when a few of his bones pop, laughing when Anakin’s do the same. “I should probably get going, though, it’s getting dark.”

But when the pair make it to the window, they are greeted by glistening white, snow almost completely covering the cars parked outside. There’s no way he can drive home in this, and they both know it. The air seems to thicken between them.

“Hey, you can crash on the couch and drive home once the snowplow has been through?” Anakin, though standing right next to him, seems miles away, his tone small and unsure.

“Surely not, you’ve already let me stay long as it is. I’ll…” he trails off, thinking.

“What, walk home?” Anakin supplies, shaking his head. “Absolutely not, you can stay. I don’t mind,” he places a hand on Obi-wan’s arm, “really.”

“You’re right, I don’t have much of a choice.” Obi-wan laughs under his breath. Still, if he did have the choice, he’d want to stay. Not that he’d ever admit that to Anakin.

Anakin takes the few steps back to the couch, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around himself like a cape. “Well, should we finish the season then?”

_____

It’s midnight by the time the pair are too tired to stay awake, drifting off into separate spaces.

“Can I borrow something to sleep in?” Obi-wan asks Anakin, who is standing in the doorway to his room. From what Obi-wan can see, it looks a lot like the living room, all blacks and soft fabrics.

Anakin’s eyes widen. “Uh, yes. Hold on.” He disappears into his room and comes back with a blue flannel pajama set. “Here, the bathroom is just across the kitchen.”

Obi-wan takes the little pile of clothing from him with a soft thanks and retreats to the bathroom to change. The pants are entirely too long on him, and the shirt hangs on him, clearly meant for someone who has a little broader shoulders. But the set smells like Anakin, and Obi-wan wants to breathe it in forever.

When he comes out, Anakin bites back a smile, holding his lower lip between his teeth. He doesn’t say anything though, and Obi-wan is both disappointed and relieved.

“So there’s a bunch of blankets on the couch for you, let me know if you need anything else.” He says, backing into his room.

Obi-wan clears his throat. “Of course. Goodnight, Anakin.”

Anakin dips his head and closes his door. “Goodnight.”

In the dark of the living room, Obi-wan shakes the blankets out so they lay flat over the couch, and slips his legs under them to get comfortable, laying on back to stare at the ceiling.

What a day.

If someone had told him this was what his snow day would’ve looked like, he would’ve laughed in their face. Just under two weeks ago, they had been huddled together in his office, working on Anakin’s paper like normal. And now, he’s spending the night at Anakin’s apartment. And while Anakin technically isn’t a student anymore, and certainly not his student any more by a long shot, there’s still a sticky and uncomfortable unease sitting in his gut; he doesn’t know how old Anakin is, but Obi-wan is surely much older than him. Plus, he doesn’t know if there’s a power play at hand, what if Anakin just thinks he’s being a creepy old man and feels obligated to let him stay?

But he thinks about the way Anakin’s flashed with happiness when Obi-wan laughed at one of his jokes during the show, the way they inched towards each other, Anakin’s face when Obi-wan came out of the bathroom in his pajamas.

Needless to say, Obi-wan doesn’t get much sleep. Instead, he thinks about the fact that Anakin is also lying down, just a thin apartment wall in between them, and watches the large snowflakes drift down in silent waves outside.

Obi-wan wonders if Anakin is sleeping in his sweater. He hopes he is.

#obikin #fever prompt #boonki writes #someday theyll quit pining and actually get together #someday

14 notes · View notes

dragoqueen · 4 years ago

Text

Whoops! Wrong Way 4/8

Summary: Peter has been living at Avengers Tower for 2 years, known to the workers and Avengers as Peter Parker-Stark-Rogers. When his teacher announces that they're going on a field trip to Avengers Tower, or SI, he's going to have to attempt to survive a day of embarrassment and keeping a secret identity.

Words: 1558

The door slides open to reveal a labyrinth of interns and tables of work behind a large glass panel and doorway. The class spreads out along the glass to catch a glimpse of what's happening in the labs. Behind them, Mars is casually explaining things that go on in the lab and probably hoping someone will ask him what he does in the lab or about his project. Ned watches from beside him enthusiastically. Usually he just stays up with Peter in the higher-up labs or even Peter, Tony, and Bruce's personal labs so this is a new experience for him.

Peter peers through and notices two of the interns he knows more than some of the others, Alex and Emily, looking over a computer stressed and confused. The two of them look over and notice the group of kids at the glass door and then, more importantly, notice Peter. Emily perks up and grins, motioning for him to come over to them. He shakes his head and mouths the words "field trip" to them. She visibly groans and then argues with Alex for a second before Alex trudges over to the door and opens it to talk to the group. "Hey guys, my name is Alex. I work here in the intern labs with my friend Emily over there. She's annoying, but I'm glad you guys could come check this out. I also was wondering, Mars and Peter's teacher, if it's okay if Peter and Ned come and help me and Emily for a second. We've been stuck on this code for a few hours and we just can't seem to figure it out. Ned's a genius, so is Peter and he often comes and helps in the intern labs so it's completely normal."

Mars shrugs and looks to Mr. Harrington who stutters for a second before nodding an okay to Peter and Ned. They grin and follow into the labs over to Emily. She grins and high-fives Alex before explaining the problem to the two and stepping back for them to have a look at it.

From behind the glass, the tour group can see Peter and Ned discussing something before Ned points to something in the code, causing Peter to nod understandingly and start talking about something else. Finally, they make a few changes to the code and turn to explain it to Emily and Alex who nod along and offer their thanks. Alex verbally and Emily physically who basically attacks the two with hugs of gratitude before shooing them back to the tour group and waving.

The door opens again as Peter and Ned walk in causing the noise from inside the lab to become audible once more before the door closes and they are returned to normal silence from the sound-canceling glass. Peter smiles awkwardly at the crowd and Ned just returns to staring out at the interns. The group stays silent for a few moments before erupting with questions for Peter and Ned. Most of them are how they were able to do that, what the fix was, how they know the interns, and what they told them. Peter hastily tries to explain what had happened before Flash interrupts him, "shut it Parker. We all know you just paid them to make yourself look like you work here. Same thing how you paid the security downstairs to give you and your nerd friends cool badges to look cool in front of us."

He was smart enough to not thoroughly insult Peter in front of Mars, but still was dim-witted enough to insult him at all. Mars glared at Flash and looked like he was about to say something but Peter gave him a glare and shook his head, giving him a pleading look to not mention it. He glanced quickly back at Mr. Harrington, who was doing nothing to interfere, and back to Peter before mouthing "we'll talk later." and continuing with his tour talk. "Alright guys, not much to see here because it's super crowded and hectic. However, later we'll go up to the higher up intern labs where you can go in and talk with the interns, and there's a chance of Bruce Banner showing up. However, don't get your hopes up because he rarely makes an appearance there. Next up, we have lunch! There's an amazing cafeteria here and you guys are going to love it so, back to the elevator we go!" he announces.

Peter almost laughs at the chance of Bruce not showing up. If Tony puts him up to it with some blackmail, Bruce will definitely be there. Although, Bruce is sure not to embarrass him too much. More like try to convince his classmates that he actually worked there which might work to Peter's favor. However, Peter still wasn't sure who else was planning on making an appearance during the field trip and they were still barely half way through. With barely any appearances so far, he was definitely in for a roller coaster of embarrassment within the next few hours.

On the ride up Mars explains how the cafeteria is set up in a circle. Different restaurants and good stalls line the outside and there are seats and tables in the inner parts of the circle. He also tells them that they have 30 minutes for lunch and that their passes will allow them to get any type and amount of food they want. This excites the entire class as the elevator opens to reveal the cast amount of options for good. Most of the students wander sound a bit first before making a decision. Peter, on the other hand, marches MJ, Ned, and himself straight over to Delmar's for "the best sandwiches in the world".

They sit down at a table away from the elevator and begin enjoying their food. Shortly after, they hear the elevator ding and FRIDAY announce to the people on the elevator that they've arrived at the cafeteria. Peter hears a familiar voice thanking FRIDAY. He immediately turns around to make sure it's actually who he thinks it is... Wade Wilson.

They make eye contact and Wade immediately grins and runs over to Peter shouting "BabyBoy!" Ned and MJ laugh as Wade picks up his boyfriend and swings him around in a circle before placing him down and continuing to hug him. "Hey Petey, I missed you!"

"Babe, you literally just saw me the other day."

"Yeah but it feels like it's been forever!"

Peter pulls away from their hug only to realize that everyone is now staring at them, he begins blushing profusely and buries his head in Wade's shoulder. He jumps up and wraps his legs around Wade's waist, allowing for his boyfriend to sit down as if having Peter wrapped around his body is a completely normal thing. "So, Ned. MJ. How's it going?" Wade asks.

MJ smiles at their encounter, "lovely. Good to see you again Wade."

"Ned, still a bit starstruck from the fact that he's just met the Deadpool, manages to stutter out a hello before returning to eating his food. Flash finally decides to question what's happening but in a more... not-so-nice Flash way, "No wonder they're dating. Of course Peter would only be able to get a scarred and deformed boyfriend. But... who the fuck are you?"

Frick. He shouldn't have said that. Flash you idiot. Can you just keep your mouth closed for once? Peter wonders.

Wade stands up immediately, turning to face Flash who now looks like he is starting to regret what he said. Wade gently tries to pull Peter off of him so he can fight the idiot who dared to insult him and his boyfriend. Instead, Peter desperately clings to Wade, knowing that he won't be able to unalive Flash if he stays there. "Wade, please don't kill him. That's illegal and Tony will get mad after having to deal with the press again."

"Who cares if he gets mad, the idiot just insulted you. I can't not do anything."

"Please, for me?"

"Can't I unalive him a little bit?"

"No." Peter states firmly.

Wade sighs before returning to glaring at Flash. He pulls out a dagger out of thin air and holds it to Flash's neck with one hand while supporting Peter with his other. "If you ever mess with him again, I will murder your entire family in front of you and then you. After I'll make the author write a gruesome, detailed chapter about it. Alright?"

Flash quickly nods, careful not to let the dagger touch his skin. When Wade puts it away, he runs back to his table of goons, shaking. Peter sighs and finally gets down, sitting next to his friends at the table. Wade sits down next to him after placing a kiss on the top of Peter's forehead. Peter blushes again, causing MJ to grin at the both of them. She had secretly been recording the entire thing and sent it to Shuri. Both girls shipped SpideyPool way before it was made a thing and they sent each other pictures of the couple being cute any time they could. Shuri quickly texts back "aww... they're so cute. 10 bucks Wade kills him ltr."

The room becomes silent again when a familiar voice calls out, "was that PDA I saw?"

#avengers #domesticavengers #spideypool #spidey #spiderman #peterparker #spidermom #irondad #fieldtripau #spiderson

17 notes · View notes

perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago

Note

Jercy teacher au? Maybe where their students r tryna get them together but they've been married for years or smthng. I'll take any jercy content tbh aha

AHHHH Darling Anon you made my day with this. Here’s a lil drabble that i hope fulfills your prompt-dreams!

If you want more you just gotta let me know. I am here to serve you my tumblr babies!

Masterlist

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

Percy had woken up this morning with the express intent of getting to the university early and starting on the increasing pile of admin he had yet to attend to. What had actually happened was a ripped pants, a spilled coffee, endless traffic, and a department meeting that resulted in him being an escort for the marine field trip. Today was the definition of Murphy’s Law.

“Good afternoon Doc,”

“Afternoon Katie,”

“Hey Doc,”

“Hello Tyson, Ella,”

Students filed into the lecture venue waving or grunting a hello as they passed him. He tried to keep a smile through the greetings, but the weight of the day hung heavy in his mind. Once most people had settled in he clapped his hands and hopped onto the desk, as he did every lecture.

“Listen up seaweed-brains,” The class groaned at the familiar nickname eliciting a grin from Percy, “I will never understand why you guys don’t find that hilarious. You are marine biologists after-all.”

“It’s unbecoming Doc, and cheesy,” A voice from the middle piped up.

“Hazel Levesque how dare you tell me my favourite nickname is unbecoming,” He mocked hurt, holding a hand to his chest.

The class laughed at that and Percy winked playfully at the small, fierce student. She rolled her eyes but smiled at her professor.

“Alright I got some news which is bad for me and good for you,” They settled down, staring intently at him, “The field trip to the marine conservation center was approved and I have to be the one looking after you lot,” It was his turn to groan.

A series of whoops and excited chatter broke out around the class. It had been forever since they were allowed to visit the conservation center. The university’s budget had been tight for some years, so they had only managed to go once in the four-year degree even though they were supposed to go every year. Percy couldn’t help but smile as he watched his class take in the news, their faces glowing with excitement. He checked his watch, giving them a few minutes to discuss before interrupting them to finally start the lecture.

“Alright you sorry sack of sponges, let’s get to it!”

And with a murmured chortle through the class they started the lecture.

“So most shallow coral reefs have a symbiotic relationship with a photosynthetic algae that-“

A knock on the lecture room door cut off his sentence. Percy frowned, looking over, and then tried very hard to stop the blush creeping up his neck. Standing in the doorway a feint smile on his face was Dr. Jason Grace.

“Sorry to interrupt the lecture Professor but can I have a word,”

The class broke out into hushed whispers, exchanging suspicious glances and gleeful smiles.

“Of course Dr. Grace,” He turned to his students, “Excuse me everyone.”

“Go right ahead Prof, we don’t mind at all,” A curly-haired Latino with a mischievous grin replied.

“Gee thanks Leo, I’m grateful,”

The class snickered and Percy debated giving them all a pop quiz just for it but Jason was waiting, patiently.

He stepped out of the room, easing the door shut behind him.

“Hello Doctor,” He said, hoping the blush would stay far away.

The man looked as good as ever; dark jeans, and a sky-blue shirt with the beautiful addition of the sleeves rolled up his forearms. It was hard not to stare without drooling.

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Jason?” The blonde teased.

“Force of habit,” He winced apologetically.

“I’m sorry I had to pull you out of class, but I don’t have any free time and I wanted to know what I should be bringing on the field trip this Friday?”

Percy’s head shot up, eyes clashing with pools of blue, “You’re the other chaperone on the trip?”

“Yea, they asked me to because I’m one of the only faculty members available this Friday. Everyone in the medical department is going to some charity ball for the Half-Blood Hospital but I had plans I couldn’t get out of so I didn’t accept the invite, and now those plans are cancelled and I’m pretty much free all weekend,” He rambled, eyes darting every which way.

Percy couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him and then with a mortified look he tried to cover it up with a cough. “Well I hope you plan something fun for the weekend now that it’s open,” He smiled.

Jason blushed, electric eyes wide, “Sorry, I tend to go on if no-one stops me.”

“I don’t know if anyone can, it’s kind of adorable.”

That made the blonde blush harder, skin turning as red as a rose fish, “So about the fieldtrip…” He mumbled.

“Right, right yes,” Percy nodded, eyes glazing as he tried to remember what they usually need, “Dress casually, because we often end up soaking wet; someone always topples into a fish tank. Pack water and snacks because for some reason you get really hungry while staring at fish?” He laughed at that. “Oh and a little emergency kit but I’m sure I didn’t have to tell you that Mister Neurologist.”

“I figured the emergency kit was a must since I’m technically first aid on this trip,” His mouth twitched in amusement.

“Guess we’re in good hands then,” He winked.

Jason shrugged, a slow smile tugging at his lips, “I guess you are.”

Percy’s eyes widened, heat beating so loud it was a wonder how his students behind the door couldn’t hear it. He stared, failing to process anything as the deep rolling voice of the man before him played on a loop in his brain.

A throat cleared, ripping Percy out of his hazy thoughts.

“Well thank you for the information. Guess I’ll see you on Friday,”

“Yea, I guess you will.” He nodded, still coming back to the present.

“Bye Percy,”

“Bye Doctor– uh Jason, bye.”

A fading chuckle followed a dazzled Percy back into the lecture room where the rowdy chatter of his students ceased, giving away to dead silence.

“So Doc, how’s Professor Grace?” Someone piped up gleefully.

That snapped Percy right into reality, head finally escaping the intoxicating spell that the neurologist always seemed to put him under.

“Dr Grace is fine Will,” He narrowed his eyes, “Now, where were we?”

“I think we were just about to discuss when you and the doc were gonna get together?”

Percy’s entire body set itself on fire. “Wha- what- what are you talking about?”

“Aw come on Prof, it’s obvious you two have been pining over each other for years. I feel like as your favourite students it would be a great graduation gift to finally see you guys together.”

“Yea Prof, he’s been single for two years now. Mrs McLean is happily married to Mrs Chase.”

“Guys you know I think you’re the best, but we are not discussing my love life right now especially,” He glared at them, “When it’s about a colleague of mine.”

“Aw come on Prof this is much more exciting than the benefits between coral reefs and algae,” Frank pleaded.

“Right but it’s not going to help you get your degree and besides we have to get this done before the trip on Friday so hush up and let me carry on.”

“Wait before you start Doc, who’s the other chaperone?” Leo asked. A round of nods and agreeing murmurs carried through the class.

Percy looked to the ceiling in exasperation, knowing the news would guarantee the class being a lost cause. He looked at those curious faces, who have been under his teaching and guidance for three years, and sighed, “It’s Dr Grace.”

There was a collective gasp around the room before all twenty of them turned to each other and started whispering furiously among themselves.

“Alright, alright, whatever is happening make it stop. We have things to do.”

They all turned back to him, sharp grins on their faces.

“How does Dr Grace feel about swimming with sharks” Katie asked, eyes wide in feigned innocence.

“Absolutely not Miss Gardner. No way.” He gave them a stern look.

Their grins just got wider.

Percy had a feeling he would be diving into a shark tank on a rescue mission come Friday. With a sigh, and a smile he tried hard to hide he turned back to the lecture, salvaging the last few minutes with his favourite, most meddlesome students.

#Jercy drabble #baby fanfic #baby fanfic series #PJSSG asks #she speaks

59 notes · View notes

meet-me-in-the-kitchen · 5 years ago

Text

What Once Was Mine College!AU

In which Y/N and Harry are old lovers who somehow find their way back to each other amidst this chaos.

If a pandemic cancels the remainder of your spring semester, and your recent ex decides to suspend the rules of your breakup in case “the apocalypse” keeps you apart forever, and you find yourself lying once again in his bed, your faces flushed, the afternoon humming by outside, take your time with leaving. The future will charge onward, but for now you can allow the memory of other lazy days you spent in this bed to envelop you entirely. You would like to believe this feeling transcends whatever comes next. For an hour or two, it does.

It had started with a fateful cough, class cancellations, and a choice to stay.

“Aren’t you gonna get up?” Katia, one of your roommates, questioned from the room outside of yours. She wasn’t bunking with you; the girl who had been, Elise, had mysteriously left about a week ago, when you’d woken up to find no trace of her usual throw pillows or belongings in the bed across from yours. “It’s the last day of classes, you know.”

You did know. You were all too aware of this fact, following the sudden declaration of a virus more minuscule than a grain of salt’s permeation of the world. The university had decided to close classes and encourage all students who were able to evacuate the surroundings as quickly as possible, heading home before the virus spread enough to veto travel entirely. Students took to this, although a bit anxious in regards to their tuition, refunds, and housing.

You had these concerns, as well. The virus didn’t seem real at first. You went through the stages of believing the media was exaggerating the virus, and then thinking that it wasn’t really a threat to youth, but that it was one’s civic duty to stay inside so those with weaker immune systems could thrive. What had concerned you most was tuition and housing. But, right now, you were all too aware of the empty space next to your bed. The fact that you’d stayed in your dormitory all of last and this week studying for assessments and exams, only to somehow end up with a heaviness in your head, a clammy, burning feel to your forehead.

You were sick with something. And it terrified you.

“I’m thinking of just getting a head start on packing,” you answer hesitantly, trying to string the words together as confidently as possible, all too aware of how your throat felt sore trying to accomplish this. “I don’t think there’ll be any actual classes, or not much of anything substantial, anyway.”

“Okay,” your roommate piped uncertainly. “Er, do you want me to help you when I come back?”

“No!” you cleared your throat, trying to mask the horror. “I mean... it’s fine, I just need to do this alone.”

“You’ve been locked in your room a while, sweetie,” Katia said kindly from outside of the door, and you felt your heart stop. “I know with all of the stuff with Harry, it’s only natural, but I’m here for you, ‘kay?”

“M’kay. Thanks, Kat.”

You heard the door click shut.

—

Harry.

Harry. Harry. Harry.

It had been so long since you’d seen him. Since the break-up. Not all of it was about pent-up emotions, though. There was also the whole “I think my roommate gave me coronavirus before she fled the residence” which kept you from wandering outside of your room. But you’d be lying if the way you’d broken up hadn’t served as a motivator to keep you cooped up in your dormitory, completely isolated.

Tears pricked your eyes as you remembered the fight. The one you’d instigated when he’d done absolutely wrong, when it was your insecurities that had presented themselves in the privileged setting, the flirtatious looks he was on the receiver end of. The feeling that he’d never truly be yours, and that he was never meant to be, in the first place.

“You always do this,” he’d growled, alcohol in his bloodstream, but the bitter truth on his lips. “This is what you do, isn’t it, sweetheart?” the words so harshly spoken, his fingers digging into your wrist, eyes intoxicated but clearer than you’d ever seen. “You fuckin’ run...they always run.”

“Harry, let me go,” you’d said quietly, looking down while you still felt the unbearable iciness of his stare.

“Let you go,” he had laughed bitterly, throwing back another swig of alcohol with his free hand. The one that wasn’t only tightening his grip on yours. “I’m the one...”

“Harry,” you’d whimpered, face crumpling. “Harry, you’re hurting me.”

You weren’t referring to the wrist.

He had paused. His darkened gaze trained on yours, lips parting with each heavy breath, eyes intensely searching your face for anything, everything you could give him. Then, they averted. Defeated. His grip loosened.

“This time,” his voice was thick with suppressed emotion, the same storminess in his eyes. “This time, if you run, don’t come back.”

Now, you were painfully aware of how alone you were. In a dormitory thinking you were infected with something too scary to try to comprehend. Unable to go outside, because you didn’t want this to affect anyone else, but also unable to get tested, because you weren’t yet a priority. You were surviving off of granola bars you’d picked up not long before this catastrophe began, along with a bunch of cold medicine and fluids. With no one to call. No home to return to, besides one filled with people who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about you.

“I’ve driven away the only person who cared,” your voice broke, as your stomach rumbles. You didn’t have the heart to grab another stale granola bar or saltine.

—

Harry’s worried, to say the least.

After that Friday night, nearly a week and a half ago, you’ve disappeared on him. At first, he was a shell of himself, showing up to classes, a hardened aspect to him. You’d really hurt him, and he felt he had the right to be upset.

But once the third day passed with no sight of you, he’d grown a bit curious. You weren’t one to miss classes: you’d once shown up hungover out of your mind, with a killer headache, but still willing to offer your analysis of Franny and Zooey, and why it was a love story before anything else.

Were you okay?

When this question had initially circulated through his mind the first couple of days, he’d merely scoff to himself. Why wouldn’t you be? You’d toyed with his emotions, unhinged all of his trust. He thought you got some sick satisfaction out of it. He wasn’t going to keep chasing you, forever.

After the first week, he began asking people. Just casually, to people who didn’t know you closely enough to tell you. He spoke to people you knew were apart of organizations you were passionate about and in. Nada. Zilch.

He’d resorted to asking Katia, seeing as your other roommate was gone, and she’d simply huff and leave.

Today was the last of day of classes, and, quite frankly, Harry realized as he watched the professor lecture on how classes would be commencing, he was angry. Furious.

“Of course,” he whispers darkly. “Of course, she gets to be locked up in the tower, feeling sorry for herself after she hurt me.”

“Er, what?” Niall rose a bit from his cat nap, eyes trained curiously on his fuming friend, who suddenly rose, fingers clenched to fists at his sides.

Harry left the lecture hall with a straight face, and walked a ways away before picking up his cellphone and finally dialling the number he’d religious avoided for days now.

“H-hello,” your voice came out incredibly soft through the receiver, and he hated that it made him want to kiss you everywhere.

“Where are you?”

His voice comes out harsh. Clipped.

“I’m in my dormitory,” you answer with confusion evident in your voice. “Why—”

He hangs up.

—

When you hear a loud rapping against your door, you regret giving him the key to your dormitory. All that separates you now is a bedroom door.

Fuck, you think, eyes wildly darting everywhere to plan an escape. You can’t risk letting him in here, either. This means you can’t jump out the window avoiding him.

“Y/N,” his voice is deep, loud, and however cold it is, you so desperately want to let him in. “Let me in.”

“N-no,” you wince at the way your voice trembles. “I can’t.”

“Cut the shit,” he snaps, and you flinch. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to pretend that you’re the one struggling, when you can’t even commit to me.”

You said nothing, tears welling in your eyes. Everything he had said was the truth.

“Stay out, Harry,” you keep your voice cool and even, this time. “Haven’t I made it clear that I don’t want you here?”

The other end of the door is silent, and your face falls. You lean back against the headboard of your bed, thinking he’s gone. He’s finally left, and you don’t like the feeling that wells in your chest in response to this fact.

Fate works in funny ways, sometimes.

You cough.

It’s a standard cough: reverberating through your chest, reacting to the phlegm congesting your oesophagus almost itchingly, and disrupting the natural rhythm of your breaths. It’s loud enough. Raspy.

You think you’re alone to do it, until a voice calls from the other end of the door; and it’s hoarse, tight.

“Y/N?”

“Er,” you pause uncertainly, wondering if it really would be that dangerous for you to jump ship out of the window and run. “Yes?”

“Was that,” his voice is low, hushed. “...Was that a cough?”

You could have laughed. Although the circumstances were admittedly dire, the mental image of Harry backing up and fleeing the scene like a headless chicken at the rasp of a cough conjures some amusement.

“That’s what they tell me,” you reply awkwardly. A girl can only take so much transparency.

“Do you have any other...” he trails off.

“Harry,” you dead-pan. “I’m fine. You can leave.”

Silence.

“No.”

“Harry—“

“Let me in, Y/N.”

“I can’t,” you stress, eyes widening in panic. “Just go..okay? It’s not what you think.”

“Why can’t you let me in, then?”

Relentless.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I just don’t want you to come inside?”

He scoffs. You hear the door knob being fiddled with and curse, as he promptly swings the door open after some hankering. You bury yourself under the covers. For all the money you were throwing at this institution, the least they could do was offer a decent lock system.

Harry takes in the disorganized dormitory; steps inside with no invitation. His eyes linger with interest at the Nature Valley granola bars located on Y/N’s dorm room floor. He steps over a few boxes, sits down at the corner of your bed with confident air.

“Stay away from me,” you groaned. He raised an eyebrow.

“Why, exactly, should I do that?”

“Because,” you pause, preparing yourself to tell the truth. Your eyes stare ahead at the inside of your blanket, burning. “I’ve been coughing, and my throat’s closing up.”

“And?”

“I think I have it,” you whisper, brokenly. Eyes welling with tears.

He promptly throws the blanket upwards, slides into the bed beside you. He grabs a Nature Valley bar on his way up. You gawk openly at him as his toes dance while his fingers tear at the plastic wrapper, bringing the bar to his mouth with great interest. He bites into it, and recoils a little.

“Not my flavour,” he comments, blithely. As if that’s any explanation.

“Are you stupid,” you stress, eyes wide as saucers. “I just told I think I have COVID-19, and you’re helping yourself to my rations?”

He snorts.

“Is this why you haven’t been coming to class?” Harry asks, forest green eyes twinkling slightly with a blend of amusement, but also awe, to your dismay. Your stubborn silence causes him to let out an uncharacteristic bark of laughter. You shoot him a dirty look.

“To think I thought it was because of something I’d said,” he marvels, with another bite and subsequent recoil to the snack bar. He shakes his head. “You, Y/L/N, have a way of messing with a bloke’s head.

“Forgive me,” you spit, “for fulfilling my civic duty of—“

“Civic duty?”

For some reason, this sends him into peals of laughter.

“Yes,” you smart, crossly. “My—“

“You,” he inches closer, and you move back cautiously, until you’re pressed up against the wall, and his chest is pressed to yours. You can feel his breath warmly fanning onto your flushed cheeks. “are not sick.”

“What in God’s name do you—“

He waved the half-eaten granola bar to your face, tellingly. Thumbed over the fine-print stating ‘peanuts included.’

You blanch. Blink.

“Oh.”

Allergies. Right-O.

“Yeah,” he chews slowly, moving back so his back is against the headboard, “Oh.”

You settled, after a quiet, but not uncomfortable pause.

“Since you’re here, I wanted to apolo—“

“Splendid day we’re having, isn’t it?” He turned to you. “Want to go on a walk and eat something besides that which you are direly allergic to?”

Or stay home. What, with an offer like that?

“Please.”

—

It’s an awful shame, you think as you both step past the stone statues and into the path led by aged, looming sycamores and dolorous baby blue jays, that this pandemic hit right as things were coming alive again.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” you voice, as Harry stops by the tree under which you’d kissed for the first time, fingers tracing the rough patterns of the branches before you both came to rest with backs against the trunk. “Life for us seems to have stopped. We stay home. Don’t come back to college for God knows how long, but things are still happening. Life exists outside of the virus. Babies are still being born, tragedy still strikes. It feels wrong, but right at the same time.”

“A little early to be pensieve,” Harry notes, but you can tell by the glint in his eyes that he’s teasing. You know he knows what you mean. He always does. Used to.

“Days spent banished to a chamber with poisonous granola bars as the only ration will do that,” you counter, and he steps up, giving you a hand. You take it. Somewhere along the way, you let it go, and narrow your eyes at his blank look.

“Last one to your dorm is a rotten loser,” you exclaim, feet working quickly to get you up those stairwells, with him hot on your heels.

Ten minutes later, you’re both sprawled on his bed, the sun peeking through the curtains and miscellaneous snacks scattered about as you feast.

At some point, mid-chew with a Wagon Wheel stuffed in your mouth rather ravishingly, you find yourself glancing curiously at him.

“Why’re you doing this?”

It hadn’t exactly ended prettily. He shrugs.

“In case the apocalypse keeps us apart forever.”

And you stay.

Because, if a pandemic cancels the remainder of your spring semester, and your recent ex decides to suspend the rules of your breakup in case “the apocalypse” keeps you apart forever, and you find yourself lying once again in his bed, your faces flushed, the afternoon humming by outside, take your time with leaving. The future will charge onward, but for now you can allow the memory of other lazy days you spent in this bed to envelop you entirely. You would like to believe this feeling transcends whatever comes next. For an hour or two, it does.

Masterlist

#was sitting in the back of my mind #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagines

116 notes · View notes

lonelyandlovelorn · 5 years ago

Text

Forgotten

A/N: This has been in my WIP folder for ages and I finally finished it. Its a long one, but I hope you like it. Pretend in this that Steve and Tony made up and now everyone is a big happy family in the Avengers tower that hasn’t really been a thing in forever.

Genre: fluff, really minor angst

Warning: language probably

Word count: 3600

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem reader

Summary: You’re close friends with Steve and company, but what happens when Steve blows you off too many times?

Masterlist

You had always been a part of Team Cap. You weren’t around for the big fight, but they were your friends, your family. You and Steve were close, maybe even best friends. Of course, he was a gorgeous man, and anyone interested in men would want more than that, but you were alright with where you stood. Bucky and Sam were like your brothers. Absolute dumbasses and annoying as all hell, but lovable and caring when it mattered. Wanda was like a sister, you always looked out for each other and used time together to escape the testosterone. You guys were all on the same floor in the tower, as Tony had started grouping people by who they were most comfortable with, mostly starting with Bucky in mind and finally just rearranging the tower so that every Avenger was where they most wanted to be.

It was pretty common for you to hang out with Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda, but you were all busy people which meant you mostly hung out in pairs when you were free. You had spent your morning training today, so you figured you could spend the evening hanging out with whoever was available. You crossed your fingers that Steve was free and tried to track him down first. You found him in the kitchen eating lunch, and decided to make your own while talking to him.

“Hey, Steve, are you free tonight?” You asked casually.

He glanced up from the phone that he spent much more time on now that he understood how to use it. “Yeah, probably.”

“Do you want to hang out, then? We can watch Singing in the Rain?” You knew that musicals were more your preference than his, but it was a good compromise between your different film tastes, since he tended to prefer more classic movies than Mamma Mia or Jurassic Park.

“Sure,” he replied, somewhat dismissively as he typed out a message. You tried not to take it to heart, but Steve had been drifting away from you recently and it hurt.

You smiled at him, even though he didn't look at you, and took your sandwich to the living room to eat, where you found Wanda. She followed you with her eyes, and you knew she could tell you were put out by Steve’s lack of enthusiasm, but she didn't bring it up. You were sure to let her know how grateful you were for that. You picked up a book and settled in to read for a few hours before setting up movie night.

It was after dinner and you decided to go ahead and set up the film while you waited for Steve to join you. Just as you were about to put the disc in, Steve walked through the common room, fully dressed, which felt odd seeing as you usually hung out in pajamas. He was almost out of the room before he noticed you and turned to you quickly.

“Y/N! I'm sorry I forgot about tonight. I have to go out, I'll make it up to you tomorrow night.” All you could do was smile weakly at him and nod as he left the room.

As soon as you were sure he was far away, you sighed, sitting down on the couch and just looking at the TV that was still off. There went your evening. You leaned back into the couch and stared up at the ceiling, feeling sorry for yourself, but not in the mood to do anything else.

About 20 minutes later, Sam wandered into the room and saw you still in that position. “What's up buttercup?” He asked, sitting down next to you. You rolled your head to the side to look at him. At the slightly forlorn look on your face, his eyebrows scrunched up in concern. “Hey, what's wrong?”

“I'm fine, it's nothing,” you responded, not wanting to sound whiny because Steve had blown you off. You were both adults and he was allowed to have a life outside of you.

“Doesn't look like nothing,” Sam insisted, nudging you with his shoulder.

You debated telling him. After all, he was one of Captain America's best friends. However, you knew Sam wouldn't judge you and you wanted the company. “Steve and I were supposed to watch a movie tonight and just hang out, but he left as I was setting up and said he had to do something.” You didn't mean to sound as obviously put out as you were, but you couldn't help it.

“He just cancelled on you? That ain’t right.”

“Well, actually he forgot completely, and then remembered in time to cancel,” you muttered a little petulantly.

“Not cool, man.” You were grateful Sam seemed to have your back on this one. He nudged you with his shoulder once again. “I’ll watch a movie with you if you want.”

“You don’t have to do that, you probably had other plans.” You didn’t want to feel like a burden.

“Nah, I actually wandered out here looking for something to do. So what are we watching?”

You smiled softly at him and pressed play on the film, leaning your head on his shoulder and snuggling into his side. The comfort of another person was very welcome at this point, and you were a little tired due to the jump from excitement to disappointment to contentment. Within 20 minutes, you were asleep on Sam’s shoulder, and he let you stay there through the whole movie.

That was how Steve saw you two hours later as he walked back through the tower, cuddled into Sam’s side. Both of you were asleep, with the DVD menu playing on repeat.

A few days later, you found Steve and asked if he would be up for a rescheduling of movie night, seeing as he seemed to have forgotten making it up to you “tomorrow night.” Once again, Steve agreed distractedly. You tried to make an effort not to get your hopes up so you couldn’t be disappointed again. You apparently failed at that, though.

You were just walking into the common area in your pajamas, carrying a blanket, when you got a text from Steve: Hey, sorry, I can’t make it tonight. I’ll make it up to you.

All you could do was sigh and berate yourself for getting excited again only to be crushed once more. You wandered back to your room and sat down on your bed, unsure what to do with yourself. After about five minutes of quiet moping, you heard a tentative knock on your door.

“Y/N, it’s Wanda. Can I come in?” You deliberated for a moment before telling Friday to let her into your room. She walked into the room carrying a tub of ice cream and two spoons. “Hey, I don’t know exactly what has you feeling sad, but I could feel it from my room and I was hoping I could help.” She held up the ice cream like an offering.

You gave her a watery smile and patted the bed next to you. She handed you a spoon and opened the lid, not prying for answers or analyzing you, simply providing support. You thought for a moment before deciding to let her in on everything you were feeling. Ages ago, she had taught you how to keep her out of your head to protect your privacy, but at that moment, you didn’t much feel like explaining everything. Instead, you just set your hand on top of hers and let your guard down completely. You saw confusion pass over her face for a moment before her expression changed to sympathy. Without saying anything, she pulled you in for a comforting hug and simply held you.

After eating too much ice cream, you ended up with your head in her lap as she combed her fingers through your hair. Neither of you spoke much, all of her support came in the form of soothing gestures and gentle touches. You fell asleep like that, hurting, but comforted.

Steve couldn’t understand the glares he was receiving from Wanda the next day.

You gave Steve one more chance and offered him a final movie night make up. He agreed with a little more enthusiasm than before, but this time, you were careful to keep low expectations.

It came as no shock to you this time when you entered the common room to see Steve saying goodbye to Bucky who was sitting on the couch reading a book. This time, he didn’t even bother to apologize to you for cancelling. When he was out of the room, you sighed and turned around to return to your room. Unfortunately, the super soldier sitting behind you heard your sigh.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” You could hear the concern in Bucky’s voice, and you knew how much he genuinely cared, so you turned back towards him and made your way to the couch. He could see the disappointment on your face and could tell something truly was wrong. You sat on the opposite end of the couch and turned towards him, tucking your knees up to your chest as you decided what you should tell him.

When you couldn’t come to a decision on specifics, you decided to tell him everything, from Steve cancelling plans to your minor crush on the man. You knew this was Steve’s best friend, but you also knew you could trust him with this. Gradually, while you were pouring your heart out, you stretched out your legs until your feet brushed his thigh. He grabbed your ankles and lifted your legs so your feet rested in his lap and set his hands on top of your legs. You knew he wasn’t a touchy man, but the fact that he was trying to provide you comfort in the form of contact was more than enough to warm your heart. When you finished telling him everything, he had a couple of things to say.

“Stevie doesn’t know what he’s missing. You’re wonderful and it’s absolutely his loss for being an idiot.” It was comforting to know that all of your friends had your back and didn’t think you were ridiculous for being upset about this. You smiled fondly at Bucky and reached to grab his hand, squeezing it in thanks, before setting it back down and picking up a book to read.

You shared silence and company until you fell asleep, stretched out across the couch with your legs still resting on Bucky.

Steve had felt growing hostility from his teammates for days, but couldn’t figure out why. Y/N was the only one who didn’t openly glare at him at this point, although that may have been because she didn’t look at him much at all. Even Bucky seemed mad at him, and he wasn’t sure what he had done.

He finally got a clue when he walked into breakfast with the intent to ask Y/N to hang out that night. As he walked towards her and opened his mouth, Wanda stepped in front of him. Before he could say anything, Bucky had called Y/N away from the counter, and thus away from Steve. Sam stood somewhat in the background, watching everything, similar to his position on missions, prepared to step in at any moment. As he looked back at Wanda in confusion, her eyes narrowed at him before she turned away and walked towards Y/N, who didn’t seem to be aware that anything strange had just happened.

Unsure what else to do, he turned to Sam in hopes for an explanation. All he got in return was exasperation and a ‘not now’ gesture.

It took about five hours before Sam pulled him off to the side to explain.

“Do you really not know what you did wrong?” Sam asked, doubtful that anyone could be that stupid, but not shocked that that someone was Steve.

“What do you mean? What did I do wrong?” Steve was frustrated and just wanted a straight answer, but guessed he wouldn’t be getting one anytime soon.

“Man, you didn’t even know what you had, and then you had to ruin it.”

“What did I ruin?” How do you ruin something without even knowing it?

“Maybe you didn’t ruin it completely, but that’s not for me to decide.” Sam crossed his arms and stared him down. He knew he was being vague, but he also knew he couldn’t violate her trust.

“Well how do I figure it out? And what does this have to do with Y/N?” Steve huffed.

“You’ll have to ask her yourself.” With that, Sam left Steve to figure out his own problems.

He had finally had enough after a week of glares and no conversation from Y/N whatsoever. They were all in the kitchen, eating breakfast in silence, when Steve gave in to his frustration.

“What did I do wrong?” he asked you, causing you to look up, startled, from your coffee. Your eyebrows scrunched up as you looked around the room. None of your friends were looking at you, they were all watching Steve. After a moment, Wanda glanced back at you. You nodded slightly at her, signaling that you wanted to talk to Steve alone. She touched Sam and Bucky on the shoulder, pulling them out of the room with her.

Once you were left with nothing but Steve’s stare, you sighed and looked down at the table, trying to figure out what to say. Luckily for you, Steve started the conversation for you.

“Do you know why they’ve been glaring at me for a week?”

Your face scrunched up in confusion. “They’ve been glaring at you?”

“You didn’t notice? I figured the glares had something to do with you.”

Realization dawned and your heart warmed at the protectiveness of your friends. You really weren’t sure how to explain it to him, seeing as you didn’t feel ready to tell someone who obviously didn’t return your feelings that you liked him. You avoided his eyes. “I’ll tell them to knock it off, you don’t need to worry about it anymore.” You moved to walk past him and hopefully end the conversation, but he grabbed your upper arm lightly to stop you. Your immediate reaction was to jerk away, fearing your actions otherwise. Steve looked hurt by your jump away from his touch.

“But I did do something?” He seemed genuinely confused, but you were still a little bitter so it was hard to try to convince yourself to be understanding.

“Aside from blowing me off three times in a row? No, absolutely nothing.” The bitterness was leaking into your voice and your face at this point. It felt fair; you were hurt and you wanted him to know it.

“I didn't blow you off three times? When did I blow you off?”

“We had movie night about two weeks ago. You remember that? You walked by me, letting me know you had to do something else and left me to hang out by myself until Sam showed up.”

“I said I was sorry, I had to meet Sharon.” You hoped he couldn't tell how much that stung that he ditched you for her.

“The next one you just texted me and cancelled on me.”

“Natasha needed my help.” You didn't know what kind of help she needed, but you knew that you weren't upset about him helping someone out. “That's still only two.”

“Well, you probably wouldn't remember the last one, since you didn't even bother to cancel, you just left, so I hung out with Bucky.”

“I didn't realize that movie night was so important to you.” He almost sounded mocking and all of the pent up feelings burst out of you like a popped balloon.

“Movie night isn't that important to me! I just wanted to spend time with you! We don't see each other much as it is so I always hope that we'll be able to make plans to hang out because sometimes I miss you, but obviously the feeling isn’t mutual.” You stepped around him to leave the room following his stunned silence. “I'll stop asking, don't worry.”

“I–” Steve started before you cut him off.

“I'll make sure they stop glaring at you too.” With that, you left him before he could say anything else, all but running back to your room and locking the door.

You knew you hadn't given him much chance, but it felt like he hadn't even tried to put up a fight. You had hoped he would at least make an effort to stop you or follow you. Instead, you sat in your room, alone. Regret filled you as you thought about all that you had said. You knew you couldn't really blame him for having a life outside of you or the team, but that didn't make it hurt less that he had all but forgotten about you on so many occasions.

You had convinced your friends to stand down on the glares, although that didn't stop them from working together to protect you. They were really good at distracting you, talking about stupid ideas and joking about anything they could think of. They often tried to keep you from noticing Steve’s presence too often when he entered a room or looked in your direction. While they were trying to protect and comfort you, they also wanted Steve to see what he was missing. Your smile, your laugh, your wit. It was all on display when they joked around with you.

You stayed true to your word, not making any effort to make plans with Steve in an effort not to feel like you were forcing your company on him. After a few days spent not speaking to each other, though, Steve had finally had enough. He pleaded with each of his friends to let him speak to you, let them know his intentions. Begrudgingly, they gave him space and permission to speak with you. All of that was unbeknownst to you.

Breakfast the following day, you were the first person in the kitchen, grabbing a slice of toast and some coffee before sitting at the table with your phone to check out what was going on in the world. The next person in was Steve, who you studiously ignored. Or tried to ignore, until he sat down across from you and cleared his throat.

You glanced up at him over your phone, inviting him to speak, though perhaps not very warmly. He set down his coffee and leaned over the table towards you. “I’m sorry.”

You went back to looking at your phone. “Apology accepted.” If he just wanted to feel better by apologizing, you would let him.

That wasn’t what he wanted though. “I’m sorry that I ignored you and took you for granted.” That got your attention and you looked back up at him. “I was so used to having you around that I didn’t think about how much I was hurting you. I didn’t realize how much I depended on having you around and how much I liked spending time with you until I couldn’t anymore. I miss movie nights and just being around you. Will you accept my apology and my offer for a make up movie night tonight that I promise I won’t miss?”

The man looked so earnest and guilty that you couldn’t help but give him a reassuring smile and nod at him. Later, Wanda and Sam would call you a pushover, but it wasn’t in your nature to stay mad when someone obviously felt bad. You were so happy that you almost didn’t notice the way his face returned to one of discomfort rather than happiness.

“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about,” he brought up.

“What is it?” You were sure whatever it was, there was nothing to worry about.

“Uh… when I was with Sharon, I realized something.” That soured your mood a little, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt. “She… well, she tried to kiss me that night.” This time, you were sure the frown was apparent on your face as you looked away from him.

“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this Steve.” You kept any emotion out of your voice.

“What I realized when she did that was that the only person I wanted to try to kiss me… was you.” Your head snapped towards him and your eyes widened. “I hope me telling you that doesn’t make you uncomfortable, I just wanted to be completely open and honest with you.”

You have no idea what to say or how to move forward. Instead of responding, you stand up from the table and take your dishes to the sink. You hear Steve sigh in defeat at your lack of response. You walk back by the table to exit the kitchen and pause behind Steve’s chair. You take a deep breath, mustering all of your courage, before leaning down and kissing him on the cheek. He stiffens before turning in your direction. A shy smile and rosy blush grace your face as you say, “Why don’t we make movie night a date night instead?”

A grin breaks out across his face as he nods eagerly. You nod back at him before exiting the kitchen, a dumb grin mirroring his on your own face.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america x reader #marvel imagine #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #fem reader #lonelyandlovelorn

296 notes · View notes