#he full on thought that she wrangled a fish

[scatterbrainedgremlin-writings]

More memes! More memes! More memes! Starring the dragon elders, aka the ones that raised Aizzayd

Don’t worry they’re all good at their jobs, which is protecting whatever villages are in their territories. Essos lives in a forest full of Dryads and the only ones she threatens to feed to her plants are abusive people

[existentialfailure]

This new old body

Pairing: N/A (Possible Reader x Hawks in future)

Length: Oneshot, 2384

Description: The aftermath of war, Keigo is OK with it all. He is OK with how things have gone. He is OK with how things have changed. He knows if he keeps telling himself it's OK, then maybe it'll be OK.

He just needs to learn to keep walking.

Warnings: Past violence, blood and injury, injury recovery, permanent injury, quirkless hawks.

Notes: Post-war, may continue later

He doesn’t recall too much of the aftermath of his part of the war. The first few glimpses of the world are cloudy, unfocused; like watching an old movie through sandy goggles. 

He felt like a doll, stuffed full of cotton and weighed down with a belly full of rice; fat, heavy, and easily tipped over. There was only one thing that consistently felt out of place, one thought that kept nagging incessantly every time he found himself stumbling forward into a consciousness that was always too bright-

“Can… someone roll… off… back? Wings… ’ll cramp.”

Nobody would answer, or if they did, they were too busy talking slowly and with their mouths full of marbles. It was irrelevant anyway, Keigo was too tired to pay attention, and the heaviness of his eyes pulled him right back into the veil of quiet dreamless sleep.

He learned later that he was too banged up for any quirks to be used as an immediate fix all. Funnily enough to add insult to injury, nobody was really quite sure what exactly to do with Pro Hero Hawks- or rather, Former Pro Hero Hawks. As the triage team had moved in the aftermath of AFO’s grisly departure, he was tagged swiftly as an immediate evacuee- a civilian evacuee. ‘A high ranking civilian,’ he was told, as if to placate his offense. It did, and it didn’t, but he was too exhausted and fucked up on narcotics to care and muddle through his feelings. Besides, he was a reasonable man, and he knew they couldn’t send him to where the wounded Pros were going. He was a waste of resources; they were trying to get all possible weapons back on their feet to deploy right the fuck back out to fight. What could he do by that point? 

He’d have been a cute cheerleader if they gave him a shot, he thinks. Rah, rah, go team go.

The initial shock of waking up quirkless was easy to handle, in the way that he didn’t handle it. He was still blitzed out of his mind on what he was humorously calling ‘The Good Shit’, and it was easy to float in and out of the reality he was currently occupying. He had never been hospitalized to this degree - even when Dabi had tried to flame broil him- and it was apparent that the damage the villains caused had put a definitive strain on the healthcare system. The hospitals were stuck relying on hands-on techniques as quirk usage was being stretched thin and reserved for the critical patients who could survive their application, or couldn’t survive without it.

Keigo certainly wasn’t critical. The nurses and therapists visited him every so often each and every day, wrangling the flailing former hero out of his bed, disentangling him from all his lines and wires like a freshly caught fish. He was encouraged to walk to use the restroom, he was encouraged to walk to sit in a chair, he was encouraged to sit up and eat and talk and laugh and engage.

Walk, walk, walk.

Keigo certainly wasn’t critical. He doesn’t know who the hell his doctor is, the staff was stretched thin, and he really didn’t care, but he liked the practitioner who came in and congratulated him on his progress as time went on. The sound of her voice was nice, but he remembers fuck all she said, just that her voice warbled when she went over all the shit they did to him throughout the day.

Staff continued with their routine. Get up, walk, sit, stand up, move, sit, stand up, walk.

Walk, walk, walk.

Keigo certainly wasn’t critical. He was one of the lucky ones. He got out of the hospital with his face stitched from AFO trying to split his skull open like an egg, his body covered in miscellaneous bruises that looked like constellations if he stared hard and squinted. Furthermore, he felt like one giant exposed nerve, the surrounding air causing his skin to feel like it was electrified and ready to crawl off and leave him hanging there naked and wet. He probably would’ve felt better if it did.

But he was alive, which some others couldn’t say the same. He was supposed to be grateful, he knows. He is, he thinks, somewhere in the hollow of his chest. Nestled between the black of broken ribs, in the sick sinking in his gut, he is ok with the fact he is alive. He is ok with it, and he will repeat it until it's true, because it is, it has to be, or else… 

Keigo walks.

Keigo walks because he isn’t critical. Keigo walks because he is one of the lucky ones. Keigo walks because he is alive. He walks because he is ok with it.

Keigo walks because there is a thrumming emptiness in the hollow of his beating heart where something is supposed to be and there isn’t anymore. He walks because there is no longer a heaviness at his back pulling him up. He walks because there is no longer a heat in his spine, a pressure in his skull, a vibration in his mind, a purpose, a warmth-

He is caught off guard as flashing flames of blue take his vision from him, hands flying up to drive the heels of his palms rough, and harsh into his eyes. The phantom heat licks his cheeks, snapping at his nose like razor sharp teeth. He can feel it just as he had that day when he stood over Bubaigawara, fierce and unforgiving. Keigo bends, hands falling to brace himself at his knees as he is overwhelmed with the need to just breathe.

Eyes wild, and his brain lagging to catch up to the fact that there is no fire and there certainly is no cremation villain anymore, Keigo finally takes a look at where his feet have taken him. For the last several years, since earning his so-called freedom with the HPSC, he spent so much of his time seeing the city from a birds eye view. Now, he found himself feeling out of place; small and insignificant under the looming branches of blossoming trees and their bowing trunks. He doesn’t recall this particular park, or maybe he does, and his mind is just too fluffy with wool to piece together a name. Maybe he just doesn’t particularly care at the moment where he is.

The park is empty from what he can tell. Despite the haze of dusk beginning to fall, he can clearly see the rubble of what was left of benches and stone carved animals. They must’ve stood proud surrounded by well-placed flowers, if the squashed pedals and shattered colorful stones are anything to go by. Keigo takes his time meandering around the remnants of what had probably been one of the smaller parks in the city. A quiet spot for your average office worker to find respite during lunch hour, or a group of kids to sit and study.

Keigo rounds a few trees, bark scorched and bare wood carved- whether by knives or claws, he doesn’t care to investigate. He pointedly ignores the skulking shadows that follow in his peripherals, diving between bush, tree, and rock as they watch. Those piercing but empty bright yellow eyes that feel like weights on his shoulders. Bodies blackened, smokey, curled and twisted; broken in ways that made no sense but powerful in every move. Phantom muscles at his back twitch with need. He can see their talons now, glinting ebony and sharp, curling over every bit of debris ready to pierce, cut, shred, eviscerate-

“Hey, are you alright?”

For the second time today, Keigo is pulled back into reality feeling as though his chest has caved in on itself. Each rib has shattered itself free, and pierced through his lungs like daggers to fill them up with blood and drown him. His head jerks to the side, noticing now the benign shadows of the trees as they sway with the breeze that filters down to them. Yellow eyes have winked out of existence, there are no talons digging fresh lines into the damaged earth of the park, no great black beast looming around a tree ready to take on the wingless wonder.

Keigo takes his first deep breath and feels like he is going to vomit.

“Hey?” The voice cuts in again, and Keigo turns to give his frazzled attention to his current witness.

You’re not a Pro, is his first thought as his eyes sweep over you. You’re dressed rather plainly, if not smartly for what it looks like you’re doing. Keigo’s eyes flash down to the bucket in your hand, filled with an assortment of flora that you must’ve been pulling from around the shattered statue he notices just behind you. Keigo turns his mind onto investigating you, chest still heaving as he tries to get his body to remember it's supposed to breathe.

He notices you’re wearing an apron, bits of trash sticking out of pockets that you may have haphazardly stowed away as you worked. Your forearms are dusty, if not altogether filthy, and your pants are slick with dark earth.

“What’re you doing?” Keigo fires back, breathless, but jerking his head towards you almost accusingly.

Your eyebrows raise immediately, probably not expecting the minor hostility in his tone. You were a local in the area, trying to do your part in cleaning up the neighborhood after the antics of the war. This particular park had been special to you, and you had joined the neighborhood established cleanup crew trying to salvage as much of the original foliage as you could before the others came in to finish tearing down what the villains had already started. And maybe also swipe a couple of root balls of some of the flowers you’d been eyeballing since you were a kid.

You had just been coming up on one of the flower patches that used to surround the ugliest cement statue of a duck when you had noticed the blonde down near what had formerly been a fountain. Initially you were just going to ignore him, but his thousand yard stare, pale face, and accentuating ‘i’ve-had-the-shit-kicked-out-of-me’ look had drawn you over to investigate.

“Cleaning,” You answered breezily, “and are you OK?”

Keigo tilts his head slightly, bringing a hand up to rub uneasily at his chest. Of course, he is ok. He has to be ok. He is ok.

“Of course.” He answers smoothly, pulling a smile that's all teeth. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you raise a brow at it. The act causes his stitches to scrunch up at his cheek. You imagine he thinks he is charming, but the look falls flat. Keigo’s smile falters a little, and he sighs.

“Really, thanks. I’m alright. Just got a little winded from walking,” He winks, dropping his hand from his chest to stuff both into his pant pocket. He walks around you, swaying a little. You watch him, eyebrow still raised.

“You looked a little more than winded.” You mutter, slightly concerned. You’ve learned over the course of the last few weeks that a lot of people were dealing with the aftermath of the villain's act of war in different ways. While a small minority of people had managed to skate by unaffected, a large portion of the population ended up scarred in some way. Some people lost loved ones, family members, friends. Others who never got to make it into a shelter were left to defend themselves or hide from the roaming villains. Some managed to avoid encountering a villain altogether, while others… Well, they’re left with the scars of their encounter. Some physical, some mental. Some both.

You’re not sure where this guy fell on that spectrum. Studying him, you could tell he didn’t have an easy way of things during the war, if the sheer amount of visible bruising and freshly knitted gashes were anything to go by. His hair looked like it was shorn by someone inexperienced with clippers, uneven and lopsided in spots, what must’ve been bangs clipped impossibly short and laid back.

You watch him as he moves to stand in front of the desecrated cement statue of the duck, his head tilted and lips twisted as though he were lost in thought. His nostrils were flared, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d guess he was trying to hide the fact that he was still struggling to maintain his erratic breathing. You look between him and the remains of the park decor, before finally catching him watching you back.

For a moment you feel glued to the spot. His eyes look sharp and predatory, like there is something that should be there that isn’t. The gold feels molten as it's trained on you, and the deep black discoloration that tips his waterline makes them seem simply feral. He blinks, and the moment is cut, his eyes honey warm and mirthful. You aren’t sure what you feel.

“So, got a name?”

You give him your name, and he nods as he repeats it, as if committing it to memory. He lifts a hand from his pocket again, rubbing mindlessly at his chest. You sidle up beside him, staring down at the defeated duck. He returns his attention to it as well, though he tilts his head slightly acknowledging you beside him. Gently, you pry,

“And you?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, breathing shallow and calm. His chest still feels tight, and the phantom pain of something webs out from between his shoulder blades. He thinks he wants to cry, but his eyes feel dry and his mouth stays curled in a not-smile grin. His eyes rove over the ruined cement statue, how it had once clearly been a duck with wings spread, neck curled and feet outstretched. Left in a stasis of both flight and landing, neither airborne nor grounded, something in between. Now it was nothing but a crumbled up bit of dust and rock, shattered and broken, and probably not worth the effort to repair. Replaceable with something better, surely. It's just a silly statue, after all, a background piece. Decor.

“You can call me Kei.”

[superluigiglitchy]

If Mario was in... Splatoon 4

((and idea that came from me thinking about the consequences of life long propaganda and dj octavio))

One day in Inkopolis. after a long day of Turf War a young Inkling named Que is heading home when he spots fucking Callie Cuttlefish from The Squid Sisters conversing with THE Mario, hero of the Mushroom Kingdom talking urgently over something along the lines of not finding a the right inkling with the spark they're looking for or whatever to help in they're mission or something like that, then they soon enter the man hole cover they were near after they finished talking (but not before looking around a bit too make sure the coast is clear unaware of the teal haired inkling watching them) obviously VERY intrigued and also being a HUGE Squid Sister's fan, Que does the only thing any reasonable Inkfish would do in that moment

he follows them in

after narrowly losing them several times and having to just follow his gut instinct half the trip he ends up finding himself in what looks to be a valley with a lone shack to the side, before he could do anything however he immediately gets shot at by fuckign Mario so that's one way to meet a celebrity, after much calming down and yelling (mostly from Que) Callie goes and asks who he was and more importantly how he got here, Que after taking a few moments to compose himself (cause oh my god THE Callie Cuttlefish is talking to him) explains to her how he saw them nearby and how the enter a manhole cover and went to follow them here, Callie realising that HE could be they're new agent that they need and decides to hire the guy on the spot despite his immense confusion and so Callie explains to him just what the NSS is and also brings him up to speed on what's going on

1 month ago Meggy Spletzer (yes the Turfwar Tournament Champ) went missing and the NSS have been searching for her to no avail, then as if things couldn't have gotten worse the Great Zapfish went missing (yes again) and this time they know DJ Octavio and the Octarians didn't take it because he was too busy searching for missing octarians (mainly the ones who were either sanitised or fuzzified) with Cuttlefish's help so to the say the NSS had they're tentacles full was an understatement, it's gotten to the point that it's been all tentacles on deck from Agent 1 up to the retired Captain Cuttlefish, they even had to call in back-up and futher assistance from outside which also included the Glitchy Gang, which is why Mario is here, very stressed and worried for his best friend because of what happened the last time she went missing and yeah, it's been rough

And so Agent 9 was indoctrinated to the NSS and meets the rest of the agents, including a very overworked, exhausted and smelly Captain 3 who barely even registered that the new kid was here (yeah, Callie and Marie wrestled them and was forced to take a nap and a bath after the kid left to clear out his first Kettle with Cuttlefish as a guide)

After many trials, bonding with the other agents and clearing kettles, Agent 9 eventually discovers that an Octaling by the name of Buster wanted to succeed where Octavio failed at and that was taking the Zap Fish to reverse the effects from the Great Turf War meaning he wanted take over the surface for their people, and wrangled up the remaining octarians who weren't there to hear the Calamari Inkantation all those years ago and ended up rallying in a lot of troops surprisingly enough (mostly because he also wrangled up the Sanitised Octolings from the Metro via using Tartar's tech and the Fuzzified Octolings Grizz left behing) however before he would set his plan into motion he sent out a squad of octolings to capture the one who started the down fall of DJ Octavio and that was Agent 3 however because of a misunderstanding he thought that the identity of the "Scourge of the Domes" was in fact Meggy Spletzer, the Turfwar Tournament Champ and so she was kidnapped instead of Paige,

Que ends up accidentally reuniting a boy band named Wh5irl_P00l (Which comprises of Polaris the leader, Boreas the smart one, Aithne the sensitive one who is currently missing, Crux the fun one and Miguel who left the group during their world tour and has never been heard from since) and during his exploits and also gave them unintentional therapy to finally band together to look for they're missing heart, Aithne and also assist Que on his own search for clues

Soon enough with the help of Wh5rl_P00l Que finds out about something about Meggy he never expected, see he always assumed that Meggy was full of herself and didn't really like her but over the course of his tim as Agent 9 he slowly realsied his assumptions were wrong when he saw just how much her friends care about her and the information he found out after defeating the 3rd octoweapon basically hit the final nail in the coffin that was his slowly changing view on the Turf War Tournament Champion

Meggy early on in her capture found out that Buster was after Agent 3 aka Paige and not wanting Paige to get hurt played along with Buster's assumption (which unfortunately lead to her getting a few bones broken, which is an uncomfortable feeling for her honestly among many other torture methods, but its a price she's willing to take) and so with this new information, Que's effectively changed opinion on Meggy and a shit ton of coffee, a plan was formed and with all the extra man power they had, Operation: Save Meggy Electric-Boogaloo was a go

After many memey shenaniganry and other inkfish related bs, the managed to finally rescue an albiet heavily injured but still alive Meggy who looked like she had a slight stroke upon meeting the Members of Wh5rl_P00l for some reason oh well that's probably something for later (no one didn't really pay attention to that though it was just Que) and they were also able to find Aithne who turned out to actually be an octoling who didn't hear the Inkantation but just left with his squad mates who did which honestly Wh5irl_P00l should have known in hindsight

Unfortunately though despite this happy reunions they're outnumbered by a LARGE margin of octarians like 120 to 20 but then Agent 4 gets a BRILLIANT idea, if these octarians weren't there to hear the Calamari Inkantation the first time what if they get to hear it now? and so after being yeeted by mario into the same room where the main sound system was and splatting the octoling that was stationed there he uploads the song then PLAYS IT ON THE SPEAKERS FOR ALL OCTOLINGS TO HEAR

needless to say this brilliant plan worked wonders, effectively subduing literally every single octarian both fuzzified, sanitised or otherwise into surrender

all but one

Buster who planned for this situation in case he ever were to "impossibly" fail created a revamped and new and improved version of Octavio's Octobot with outside sound proofing to boot to prevent himself from hearing what he quotes as "the deserting siren song, the musical poison the weakened his people" and so he attacks to both eliminate his enemies and the traitors of the octarian way or so he puts it

and so an all out brawl broke out, words were thrown, giant fists were flung, explosions were set and so and so after one final stand and push thanks to the reunited Wh5rl_P00l and a surprise back up in Octavio with the gaurds with his OWN OG Octobot the NSS are finally able to defeat the would be warmonger, unfortunately in the whole fight Buster unintentionally triggered the self destruct sequence in his Octobot when he was knocked unconscious so they gotta go ASAP and everyone gets all the missing octarians out of the underground base (Buster included because this whole mess was technically Octavio's fault)

*Insert running away from explosions narrowly michael bay style here*

((I'll post the aftermath later im eepy))

[justkending]

Finding Memories. Chapter 5.

Series Summary: Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Word Count: 3700+

TW: Torture, cussing, and blood. 

A/N: I will have chapter 6 ready by the time it is ready to be posted, and I’m hoping to get a start on chapter 7 soon. So things are working in my favor this time around.

Chapter 5: (Last edited; 1/1/23)

"Y/N!" he shouted, this time knowing for a fact she was in trouble.

It would take more than a common lock to keep the soldier out. With a quick and calculated kick to the door, the crack of the lock busted against the wood and splintered the threshold.

The scene in front of him instantly switched him into fight mode. _____________

After a struggle that Y/N didn't even have time to apprehend, she was put into a headlock by one woman who must have already been in the room before her. And the woman that had walked past Bucky a minute before was trying to hold her legs down as she fished for something in her pocket. Upon hearing the crash of the door caving in, the one attempting to wrangle Y/N's legs turned at the intrusion and a fiendish smile twisted on her face.

"Let her go," Bucky warned in a deep and intense tone, taking a step in.

"She's not yours to have," the woman responded naturally, instantly throwing a punch that Bucky deflected.

She wasn't an easy fight. The normal techniques he would use were too simple for her. Clearly, she was trained and ready to take on an opponent upon coming here.

Bucky was punching and ducking as his hand went into the wall instead of her gut at one point.

The whole time, Y/N was trying to escape the stronghold the other woman held on her.

"Stop fighting you little rat!" the woman groaned as Y/N never relented in squirming in her embrace.

Then as if a muscle memory fled back, Y/N's foot came down hard on the woman's shoe causing her to ease her grip on her. Taking the split second of a surprise to her advantage, she twisted the arm from around her neck into an unnatural bend and stared into the woman's eyes as she knew she had the upper hand.

The women looked back in shock. Out of all the people this enemy expected to have to put up a fight against, it wasn't the meek woman they had come for.

In front of the assailant stood an angry and hurt person that shared a full 180 of the girl they had brought to the facility a week ago.

But instead of continuing her fight, it was like the realization of her actions clicked. As soon as that awareness locked in, she blacked out. The next thing she knew, the woman was thrown into the wall so hard, the ceramic around her outlined her figure as it caved in.

Y/N was appalled at the scene as she couldn't imagine herself doing that. She didn't know how to fight... Or at least she didn't remember being one to hold her own.

Bucky had incapacitated the other girl at the same time Y/N had with her own opponent, and when he turned to hear the loud crash that showed the woman unconscious and embedded in the wall, his eyes grew.

He hadn't known what had happened since his back was to her at the time, but his first thought didn't go toward Y/N being the person in charge of the scene.

She was in just as much shock as him; it looked like she was staring at the incident frightened and taken aback just as much as him.

Instantly jumping into action to cover the scene, he grabbed Y/N's arms gently, but frantically, and moved her to the opposite wall away from it all. She was in shock from it all while watching as he went through their pockets and bags for any evidence. 

While he did that, he dialed Steve's number and gave him a quick rundown of what had happened. When he had taken all the precautions to keep them there until a squad could come to pick them up, he turned back to Y/N while on the phone.

"I got to get her out of here," he said softly toward Steve, not looking away from where she was covering her mouth with her hands, shaking, and tears on the brink of overflowing in her eyes.

Steve confirmed saying there would be a team there in three minutes tops.

Bucky carefully moved her out of the room and found a few security guards to watch the space until someone from the team came. They recognized him and stayed close calling the rest of security to alert the problem.

The back alley behind the museum was the only place of seclusion Bucky could calm her down. He would have done it inside, but there were crowds of people already moving toward the scene and it was turning more chaotic by the second.

"Hey, are you ok? Did they hurt you?"

He began assessing her for any injuries and noticed a cut on her head and bruising on her neck from the hold the woman had on her. The cut wasn't bleeding horribly since she had already begun healing, but he could tell it was a nasty hit.

She was still shaking, her eyes stayed following his own, but nothing besides panic and fear showed in them. She had been taking shallow breaths and he could tell her breathing was becoming harder and harder to control.

"Y/N, I need you to focus on your breathing, ok? Close your eyes and take a deep breath," he instructed. He had just noticed, his hands had been on her shoulders the whole time keeping her anchored and she hadn't pulled away yet.

She took a second, but nodded in acknowledgment and took a shaky breath in. It came out even more unsteady.

"You're ok now. We're going to get you back home as soon as we can get you grounded a little better," he explained. "Deep breath in."

He coached her through a couple more deep breaths, and though she hadn't improved her nerves much, it was at least focusing her attention on something else.

Bucky heard the sirens and the honking as cars maneuvered to the museum. The crew was there and could handle it from here. They needed to find some form of cover that wasn't out in the open. 

"Listen, we need to get to the car so we're out of sight. Can you walk ok?"

She hesitated but nodded softly.

"Ok, follow me," he motioned for her to trail behind as she usually did, but he was shocked when she grabbed onto his hand tightly and stayed closer than she had before.

He knew it was because he had just proven once again, that he would protect her no matter what and she could rely on him to be that strong pillar when she needed it the most.

He was happy that that kind of bond had formed now but frustrated that it was under these circumstances.

He squeezed her hand in reassurance and quickly guided them back to the parking garage where the car was. He helped her into her seat, giving her a hand as she got situated, then quickly ran around the front to get in the driver's seat and start the car.

The first 5 minutes of the trip were silent besides Y/N focusing on her breathing and keeping her head down as Bucky spoke soft words of peace and confirmation they were safe now.

By the time they parked and were back at the compound, she had gone radio silent and had a blank look written over her features.

Bucky once again came around the car, opened the door for her, and lent his hand as an anchor if she wanted to take it.

But even more to his surprise, she took his hand and used it to pull her body into his. His heart sank as he felt the desperation in her grasp.

She was going to crumble at the relapse of some of the worst experiences she had and he felt as though it was his fault. He put her in that situation. He was the reason she was attainable for those that wanted to harm her.

And yet it was him that she was molding herself to and holding onto for dear life.

He was shocked at first. Her arms went around his torso and her head laid heavily on his chest as muffled sounds of sobs came from her.

His first instinct was to throw his arms up in a way to show he wasn't fighting her action but slowly brought his hands down to her shoulders before he realized she truly just needed an embrace. A kind gesture for once.

So he gave it, slowly and carefully he brought his arms around her back and held her as she fell apart. His embrace only became tighter when his feelings of guilt and anger from the whole thing reminded him why she was using him as shelter.

This was a cruel cruel world and though there will always be bad in it, it was an overwhelming feeling to know that good could come out on top if given the opportunity. ____________________ Once she had relieved some of her adrenaline that had built up, Bucky walked her to her room and started to get her situated for the night.

She went into the bathroom, cleaned up the dried blood on the now-healed wound on her forehead, and put her hair up and out of her face.

Bucky offered to help and grabbed a pair of pajamas from her dresser and laid it out for her while he waited for her to come back out of the bathroom. But she was taking the time to have a space to herself and collect herself before coming back out.

While Bucky waited, he heard a soft knock on the door before it peaked open.

A sliver of Wanda's face showed before she realized Y/N was not in the vicinity and Bucky was waiting in a chair by her bed.

"Hey," she quietly opened the door more.

Bucky could tell she was looking for Y/N and he eased her thoughts.

"She's ok for now. She's cleaning up in the bathroom and I'm pretty sure she's going to call it an early night," Bucky summarized, nodding to the double doors that led to where she was.

"Makes sense," Wanda nodded, placing her hands in her back pockets as she walked in analyzing the energy. "It would also make sense for you to call it an early night too. She wasn't the only one ambushed."

The look she had sent him was one waiting to see how he took her comment. Would he brush it off, or agree? Knowing him, it would be the first.

"I will once I brief Steve on everything," Bucky smiled tiredly at his friend who always looked out for others. "Speaking of, is he back yet?"

"Yeah actually. I was coming to relieve you of your duties and send you to bed," she answered, sitting on the side of the bed across from him.

"But if Steve's here-"

"I know. Call me crazy, but I was hoping you would call it an early night too and actually give yourself some time to process the night instead of staying up and going over the whole thing down in the lab," she grinned cheekily.

"If I'm going to be going over it in my mind over and over tonight, might as well relay the information in a useful place," he countered, with his own grin.

"Eh, wishful thinking," she shrugged again. "But whichever way you decide, know that I have it handled here. I'll get her situated and make sure she's comfortable before going to bed."

"Are you sure cause I can-"

"We all know what you can do. How about you take care of yourself instead? Let the people who didn't relive their trauma tonight help those that did."

Her single eyebrow raise was one that reflected another redhead he knew. They had been rubbing off on each other for sure.

"I appreciate it, Wanda," Bucky stood up slowly, looking one more time at the doors. "But please, don't hesitate to call if something else happens."

"I'll hesitate, but I'll make sure you know if anything noteworthy happens," she nodded, standing with him. "Now go down to the lab so you can get some shut-eye at a reasonable hour," she pushed him toward the door. "As far as you're concerned, everything is going just fine on this side of the building."

Before he could counter with anything, he was out the door and Wanda was sending him a reassuring smile as she shut the barrier between them.

He let out a deep and long breath, running a hand through his hair as he took a second to reset.

As soon as he remembered what kind of information would be waiting for him, his calm, comforting, and understanding side took a step back. The anger and determination that the soldier in him held was on full display now.

_____________________________

"You said this is what Bucky found in the assailant's pocket?" Banner asked.

"That's what he said," Steve answered.

"The cover to the syringe wasn't off? Right?" he asked again.

"Not from my understanding. Bucky said from his perspective, it never left her pocket. She was trying to pull it out, but he came in before she had the chance," Steve noted.

"If you're wondering if any of it was injected into someone or something, it wasn't. At least not that I saw," Bucky spoke up as he walked into the room, overhearing the conversation on his way in.

The three in front of him turned.

Bruce with his glasses in one hand and the syringe they were talking about on the table in front of them. Steve had his arms leaning on the table reading the case file that had been written up from the scene. And Tony was on the other side of the table, sitting on the top with one hand propped under his chin in a thinking position.

"Do you think the intentions were to inject her or you?" Bruce asked.

"They locked me out. Their plan didn't bank on me being in that room with them," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest and standing in the space diagonal to Steve. "It had to have been for Y/N."

"I figured, but thought I'd ask anyway," Bruces sighed, grabbing the syringe and surveying it.

"Have you figured out what's in it?" Bucky asked.

It didn't take longer than a minute of Bucky being there before Tony broke his silence from the corner.

"It was a mixture of some of the most intense date-rape drugs on the black market put into one vial," Tony answered, never looking up. "And then some," he shrugged sarcastically.

"He's right," Bruce shook his head in disappointment at the truth. "It was laced with ketamine, GHB or gamma-hydroxybutyric acid, and Rohypnol from what we could decipher. Whoever was trying to get a hold of her wanted her wiped unconscious. And I believe truthfully if she was some form of normal that we thought she was before, she wouldn't have survived a quarter of the dosage they were going to give her..."

There was a pause as that statement settled in the room.

"What do you mean 'some form of normal'?" Bucky pressed on.

"If her capabilities were healing and nothing else, even that enhancement could only do so much with that concoction. That dosage was enough to put a Rhino down," Tony answered.

Bucky processed the information after everyone else had a head start.

"How's she doing?" Steve redirected the morbid conversation.

Bucky answered, sharing that she was with Wanda and shaken but resting, but his attention was only on it for a second before he asked what he was sure was already going through everyone's head.

"So you think her enhancements are something a lot more... Intense?" Bucky put it out there.

"If you want to put it lightly, they were trying to sedate the threat before it could do anything," Tony replied.

"It has a name. Don't forget that,"  Bucky stared with a death glare. "Y/N also has yet to show anything outside of her ability to heal."

"Maybe for now, but with the evidence that's piling up, there has to be another power we have yet to come in contact with..." Steve had to agree. "You mentioned something about her getting away from the woman holding her while you wrestled with the other hit woman. Did you see anything?"

Bucky thought back and wasn't sure how to word it.

"You saw the damage right?" Bucky asked and Steve nodded. The other men in the room watched as the two went back and forth. "I don't think that was the kidnapper's doing. Y/N was free from her grasp when I turned around right after I heard the crash of the ceramic breaking under the woman's weight."

"You think she did it?" Steve raised an eyebrow. "You think she had enough strength to push a woman twice her size into a concrete wall and leave a hole as proof?"

"Deep down it's almost impossible for me to believe that she's capable of something so violent, but I didn't do it and I'm sure the woman wouldn't have wanted to knock herself out as a defensive tactic," Bucky sighed, running a hand down his beard. "But I didn't see it happen, so I can't confirm anything. I was prioritized with her friend who was trying to stab me."

"Well, what's Y/N's testimony?" Tony jumped off that table and walked closer to the group.

"I didn't ask," Bucky answered, annoyed. "She hasn't said a word since we got back. She's been in shock since getting here and I'm not trying to have her recap everything when she's barely able to handle the aftermath."

"We probably won't get a recap from her anytime soon, Stark," Steve stepped in. "Who we can ask are the individuals in charge of the assault themselves."

"Are they in holding?" Bucky was quick to follow the new subject.

"They're seeking medical attention. The one you fought against had a few lacerations and a mild concussion," Steve updated. "The one that had a hold of Y/N, well..."

"She's still alive, right?" Bucky was now concerned.

Knowing that you could be the reason for someone's fall when your intentions were never that, could send a person on edge down a long spiral.

"She's alive, but her concussion was a lot worse. She's been in a medically induced coma since we brought her in."

Bucky nodded, looking at the ground as he processed, but they could tell the news bothered him still.

"She'll be ok. But we are worried we may not be able to get any information out of her from the attack," Bruce noted.

"Not that we were sure we'd get information either way, but with head trauma and possible memory loss, we for sure won't get much out of her," Tony sighed.

"We'll get it figured out," Steve interrupted, seeing the anger on his friend's face and the annoyance on Tony's. "It's our job to. And we're going to handle it like professionals or it's not going to get done in an efficient and thought-out way."

He was playing the peacekeeper as this type of case was sensitive to both the opposing sides.

Tony didn't do well with befriending people who could be potential threats. And Bucky didn't do well with Tony being insensitive to this type of case. He would know as he was seen as the potential threat at the beginning too.

"The good news is that the clues and hints are coming up constantly," Bruce spoke up, trying to cut some of the tension. "Maybe not in ways we hoped," he looked down momentarily at the syringe full of deadly chemicals. "But it's progressing in lots of ways. We have more evidence to work with and more people to lock up for their crimes."

"Peachy," Tony rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, getting his last word in.

Once out of the room, Bucky closed his eyes and relaxed his flared nose from the number of deep breaths he just took.

"I'm barely holding back, Steve," Bucky mumbled.

"Ignore him. He's stressed in different and yet somehow the same ways you are," Steve added. "You both just process the information entirely differently, and I'm now noting that I still can never leave you two in a room alone," Steve groaned, shaking his head as his hands rested on his hips.

"You're just now noting that?" Bucky deadpanned.

"Besides that," Steve continued on. "What should we do next?"

"I think our next step is questioning our new inmates. Any information we can get out of them is helpful," Bruce answered.

"I'll question them-" Bucky began but was cut off by Steve shaking his head.

"Yeah, no. You're a little too close to the case for that."

"What do you mean by that?"

Steve sighed and felt that Bucky was oblivious to his growing connection to this case, but at the same time, he wasn't that dense. It was because he was close to the investigation that he wanted to be the one in the interrogation room.

"Let me handle it and I'll relay anything I find out to you," Steve replied simply. "You need to get some rest and call it a night."

"I'm fine," Bucky rolled his eyes at the second person who had told him that.

"Fine my ass," Steve countered, getting a smile from Bruce as he tilted his head down trying to hide it. "Go get some sleep. We can argue about this tomorrow."

Bucky would have put up a fight, but he realized that going to bed and replaying the ambush in his head would bring new views on things. So though Steve was sending him away for rest, and he knew he wasn't going to convince him otherwise, he obliged but planned on working anyway.

He put his hands up in defeat and said his goodnights before heading off to his room.

Bruce and Steve watched him leave and go up the stairs to the main level.

"You know he's not going to sleep right?" Bruce said a few seconds after he was out of sight.

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighed. "At least he'll be in bed."

"You sound like a worried parent."

"Sometimes it feels like that..."

If you would like to be tagged in this series, please send an ask here. Thank you:)

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@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter1 @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​ @alyispunk​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​

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[definitelynotapossum]

Felicity

Chapter 2 of All the Shades of Black: A Stardew Valley fanfic! You can find the full, in-progress fic here!

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Springtime in the valley had its ups and downs for the townsfolk. There were plenty of fish to be caught in the rivers, and the weather was warm enough for walking outdoors, but sudden cold snaps tended to hit the valley, freezing crops and stunning the local wildlife.

 

Stardew's newest addition to the town, the farmer girl, was recovering from one such snap, planting rows of parsnips and potatoes out by her house while her four hens watched, intrigued. She was toiling with the garden hoe, frantically tossing up dirt and clumps of dead plants in preparation for the next harvest. There was only a little over a week of spring left, and she wasn't even sure if half of them would be fully grown by then.

 

"Fuckin' weather around here. Won't stay put for two god damn days…" she was mumbling curses to herself as she buried the seeds in the ground and watered them. "Another cold front and I'll be out a couple thousand. Pierre sold me those seeds at a markup too. God fucking shitty cold weather-"

 

Several hours and a symphony of profanity later, the garden was finally complete. In a few days, hopefully, the plants would be ready for the spring harvest. The farmer wiped some sweat off her forehead with her sleeve, and stood back, hands on her hips, admiring her hard work. She nodded, content, before heaving the copper hoe over her shoulder and trotting over to the chicken coop.

 

The four of them, Cinnamon, Peachy, Angel, and Tiny, were huddled around the coop's little entrance door in a small, feathery pile. Thinking that they were just hungry, The Farmer didn't question anything until she heard their low growls and chitters, eyeing something in the coop.

 

"What is it, girls? Your feathers are all standing on end." She threw open the door, brandishing her garden hoe, ready to lash out and yell at either a fox or raccoon. Instead, she came face to face with absolutely nothing, and she sighed. "There's nothing even in here. What are y'all scared-" Then she saw it. "-of."

 

Sat in the middle of the coop, in a little thatch of golden hay, was the oddest-looking chicken egg she had ever seen. A little soot-black thing with red, glistening spots. None of her chickens laid that , and she bent down to examine it. "What on earth...?"

 

Meanwhile, while the Farmer was busy examining the strange egg that had appeared overnight, Shane and Marnie were having their own complications with their unruly barn animals. 

 

It had started when Marnie had called Shane over to wrangle up some stray sheep that wouldn't cooperate for their shearing, butting them with blunt horns and knocking them over. While they were busy, one of their goats had, once again, managed to escape the pasture, enticed by fresh berries on the opposite side of the fence.

 

Covered in mud and dirt, Marnie sighed, continuing to shear the ewe she had caught. "Shane?" When he walked over, Marnie handed him a few cave carrots. "Could you call Sweetpea back to the barn, please? She got out again." She pointed over his shoulder where a young, black and brown goat was munching on the leaves of a blackberry bush out in the yard. "I don't know how the little devil keeps getting out, but it's driving me crazy!" The sheep squirmed and tried to butt her again, and she pinned it back to the ground, taking the shears to the wool.

 

Shane sighed and reluctantly took the cold, hard carrots from her hand. "You know, I don't really think she likes me very much."

 

"Oh, she's an old goat. She doesn't like anyone. Go on now." She said, now done shearing her sheep, and she darted off to catch the next one. He laughed as he watched her fail a tackle and went face down into the dirt, then bolted upright, red-faced, and went to chase after the ewe.

 

Sweetpea, despite her name, was an ornery thing who did what she pleased, which Shane thought was funny when he wasn't on the receiving end of her indifference. He bent down next to her, watching her snag some more berries off the bush, chewing loudly before she turned to look at him with an unimpressed expression.

 

"Don't give me that look. You know you're not supposed to be out here." When he pulled the carrots out from behind him, he watched her eyes go wide. "Yeah, you like this stuff, don't ya'? Only if you come back to the barn, though." He waved a carrot in front of her face, her head moving to follow it, and she took a step forward. "Yeah, come on now, let's get you back-" She suddenly jumped forward, snatching the carrot from his hand, and chewing it up in his face. "You little shit." He hissed, and she snorted at him smugly.

 

While she was busy eating, the bush shook slightly, and the two of them turned to look at it, intrigued. Shane thought that maybe there was a bird's nest in its center, and they had disturbed it. Suddenly, the bush rattled violently, and a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whine had both Shane and the goat jumping back, wide-eyed. Sweetpea, startled by the bush shaking, bolted past Shane, running back towards the barn without looking back, and Shane felt himself shake a little. "Did that bush just… yelp?" Shane bent down towards the bush, the squeaky sound and trembling leaves drawing him in. Slowly, he bent down onto his knees, reaching out to push up some low-hanging twigs at its base, peering into the sticks. "Hello?"

 

He jumped slightly as a small, wet snout poked out from between the leaves, sniffing at his hand before a little tongue darted out and licked at his fingers, and Shane's mouth fell open. "No way…"

 

From the bush emerged a small, black and white, sheepdog puppy, no more than a month old, at least, with sticks tangled in his fur, and a tear in his left ear. He yapped at Shane happily, tail swishing back and forth. "Where on earth did you come from, little guy? You look like you've been through hell and back." He said, plucking a burr from his matted fur.

 

The dog then began running at his feet, lowering its head to the ground, and eyeing him while doing so. It was only a puppy and it was trying to herd him! He stumbled backward, away from its sharp puppy teeth that just barely grazed the leg of his pants. "H-hey Marnie. Aunt Marnie!" Shane called out to his Aunt, who was working in the barn. "Marnie! Hey, I need your help with something!" 

 

She stumbled outside a few seconds later, clutching a basket of eggs. She was still covered in wool fibers and dirt. "Gracious, Shane, what are you yelling fo-" Hearing her voice, the puppy lost interest in Shane, and bounded over to greet the older woman, yapping excitedly, and running in circles around her feet. Marnie put a hand over her mouth. "Oh, my goodness."

 

"Think he got dumped like the last one?"

 

"Oh, I'm afraid so. Look at him, he's all dirty and matted. He's lucky he's alive. Aww… Aren't you a good boy?" She patted him on the head.

 

Scratching the back of his neck nervously, Shane looked down at the puppy, a question bubbling in his mouth. "Can we keep-"

 

"No."

 

"Ah, worth a shot." He muttered. He had always wanted a dog, but Jas had a small fear of them, especially larger dogs. Marnie, holding the egg basket up where the pup couldn't bite at it, placed a hand on her cheek, and a pensive look spread across her face. "What 'chya thinking, Marnie?" Shane questioned.

 

She stayed silent for a moment, before snapping her fingers when an idea popped into her head, and she patted her leg, signaling the puppy to follow her. "I'm thinking that he needs a good home. C'mon, Shane. I do know who might be able to care for him!"

 

"Huh? Who?" His heart dropped when he saw the direction she was walking in: towards the Granger's farmstead. "Oh no…"

 

"C'mon now, you can't avoid her forever."

 

"Yes, I can."

 

"Shane-"

 

Oops, that was her serious tone. "Alright! Alright! I'm coming." He reluctantly trotted over to Marnie's side, twitching his feet as the puppy nipped at the ankles of his shoes. "I'm not gonna talk to her though." Marnie just shook her head.

 

Back at the farm, The Farmer had taken to a tank top and shorts as the sun began to crest in the sky above, bringing the daily temperature to its peak. Though it was cooler in the mornings now, the temperature had a habit of shifting a good twenty to thirty degrees in the afternoons, before dipping again when the sun went down. This meant long sleeves and pants during the mornings, and the bare minimum of clothing in the afternoons when sweat began to trickle down her face and neck.

 

She was inside, with the house door and windows wide open, letting in a breeze from outside since her years-old air conditioning unit left much to be desired. "If I don't fix that before summer gets here I'm gonna roast." She had been moving boxes of stuff that came from her old apartment: books, trinkets, silverware, stationary, and the like, she was almost completely done with setting up and furnishing her entire house. Soon enough, she would be able to bring Robin the materials needed for a couple of rooms to be added on. She could hardly wait.

 

She heard a knock on the doorframe, and turned to the sound of Marnie calling into the house. "Granger? Mrs. Granger! You home, dear? Your doors wide open!"

 

"Right here, Marnie!" She popped up from behind the veritable mountain of boxes and furniture, trotting over to the door. "Just letting a breeze in. Smells stale in this old farmhouse, ya' know?" She set a small box of photo frames on the counter, all of them being pictures of her and her family. "So, what's brought ya' here?"

 

"Well, about that." She smiled, a bit forcefully. "We had something, er, someone show up at our house, and we don't exactly know where to take him-"

 

The farmer gave her a questioning look. "Him?" Now, what did she mean by, "him?"

 

"I know you just got your chickens and all, and your hands have been full with the cold snap, but we thought maybe you'd-"

 

There was a sound of a bucket and tools being knocked over, as the muffled sound of someone talking around the corner from the corner of the house made them both look over. Shane hopped out from behind, kicking a metal pail off his foot, while eyeing something in the grass. "Uh… Marnie. Marnie! He's herding me again! Marnie!"

 

The Farmer watched confused about what had him stumbling. "What the-" Only when a little puppy, no more than a foot tall, bounded after him, did she smile wide. "Well, I'll be damned." Snapping at his pants, teeth digging into the fabric, the canine did his best to drag Shane towards Marnie. He stepped towards them to make the puppy think he had won so he could pry his sharp teeth off of him.

 

Seeing the farmer, the puppy immediately lost interest in terrorizing Shane and went to greet the young girl, trying his best to jump up the steps, which might as well have been walls for the pup. When he finally got to her, the Farmer bent down and scooped him up, bringing him up to her face. "Well hi there, little one." The puppy licked her nose. "What's your name?"

 

"He… doesn't have one. Yet."  Shane locked eyes with the farmer, and rather than a scrunched-up face of disgust as he had expected, he was instead met with a gaze he couldn't quite decipher. She almost looked… a bit sad? Worried? He figured maybe fretted was the word, though he couldn't imagine why. "What?" He snapped when he felt like she had looked long enough, and Marnie scowled at him.

 

"Nothin'! Nothin'." She continued talking to Marnie like nothing had even happened. "No name then. Yoba… he's a stray. Where did you find this little one?" She said, bending down and stretching out her hand for him to sniff. "He's all matted and dirty!"

 

"Shane found him outside in a bush. We don't have any idea where he came from. No collar or anything, and there hasn't been word of a lost dog around town either." Marnie sighed. "I think he might have been dumped."

 

Shane dusted some puppy prints off his pants and shirt. "Yeah, besides the only dog I know around here is that mutt of Alex's." Shane added. "We've had people throw their dogs in the water upriver before, from Zuzu City."

 

Her face suddenly dropped, and she looked at the two of them solemnly. "Before?" She muttered, looking down at the dog, who was now chewing on her finger, his little paws wrapped around her wrist. "Sweet Yoba…"

 

"We understand if you can't take him." Marnie sighed. "We just thought it would be worth a shot, you know? He's clearly a farm dog and all-"

 

The farmer raised a hand, holding the pup in her other arm. "You won't have to worry. I'll take him. I have more than enough room, and I've always wanted a dog."

 

"It's not too much trouble?"

 

"Not at all, Marnie. So, sheepdog, huh?" The little puppy licked her nose, and she giggled. "We'll call ya' Shepherd, eh? How's that sound?"

 

"Shepherd! Oh, that's a lovely name! Right, Shane?"

 

"Whatever."

 

"This sweet thing's gonna have a nice home here, I know it." Marnie scratched Shepherd on the head, and the farmer set him back down on the porch, looking over at the chicken coop, where the hens were scratching and pecking at the dirt.

 

Shepherd hadn't seen them yet, so she gently picked him up, and turned him in their direction, watching his eyes go wide at the sight of the birds. His tail began to wag excitedly. "Go get 'em, Shep! Go get 'em! Go on!"

 

With a high-pitched bark, he vaulted down the steps, landing face first in the earth, making everyone chuckle, before scurrying off towards the coop. The three of them watched as the little dog began to run in circles around the chickens, who couldn't be less bothered by the sight but were curious about the new face. Shepherd lowered his head to the ground, stalking around the birds, who began to back up at the sight. He then bolted in the opposite direction, rounding up Tiny and Peachy from the other side. The chickens were now packed together, and the dog zigzagged towards them, backing them up to the coop door.

 

The Farmer whistled, a cue to stop, and the puppy lifted his head, and bolted back to the steps, immediately flopping over onto his back, allowing The Farmer to scratch his belly. "He's a natural. That'll make getting them into the coop at night a lot easier. He'll fit right in, Marnie."

 

"Wonderful! I was worried he wouldn't find a home here." She bent down to the puppy, scratching him behind his ear, making him shake his leg. "Be good to Miss Granger, little Shepherd. She's a hard worker." Behind her, Shane rolled his eyes. "I'll let Mayor Lewis know of the new addition. I'm sure he has some blank adoption certificates somewhere. Oh, and a collar! I wonder if Pierre has a blue one."

 

Shane was already walking down the steps, eager to get back home. Seeing The Farmer with her new pet made him miss his own. That and just seeing the girl drained his social battery. Getting the hint, Marnie followed close behind, waving goodbye to the Granger girl and Shepherd. "Good luck! Having a dog is a life-changing thing!"

 

"Thanks again, Marnie! Thanks, Shane!" 

 

He had no clue why she was thanking him. Bringing the dog there was all Marnie's idea. "Hey."  She bumped him in the side. "She said, "Thank you."

 

Sighing, he mumbled, "You're welcome," and Marnie nodded in approval. He could feel the girl staring at his back. He just knew and, sure enough, when he turned she was looking at him with that same expression from before and just like last time, he couldn't quite place the look. He simply shrugged, turning back towards the path and keeping his eyes forward. " Weird girl. At least she took the dog ."

 

"Hey! Hey, Shane! Wait up!"

 

" Oh no… " She was back, and running towards him. "What the hell does she want with me?" He tried to ask Marnie to take care of her problem but, before he could even ask, she turned and began swiftly walking towards the trail back to the barn. "Marnie! Don't-!" Too late, she started walking at a faster pace, leaving Shane to deal with the farmer, and he swore she was smiling. "Goddamn it-!"

 

"Shane!" The Farmer screeched to a halt in front of him, throwing up a dust cloud that he fanned out of his face. She bent over, placing her hands on her knees, and huffed, out of breath. "Before… you say anythin'… I don't wanna talk to you either."

 

"Then why are you?"

 

Straightening up, she took in a lungful of air before continuing. "Because… I have a problem-"

 

"Then get someone else's help."

 

"Look. It's somethin' with the hens. You're the only person knowledgeable enough about chickens to help me. I don't think even Marnie tops it."

 

His eyes suddenly had a glint to them. "A… chicken problem?" He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was flattered. " Most knowledgeable! Hey… I've made something of myself! " He cleared his throat. "Yes. Well… I've raised them for years. I know a lot."

 

"Yeah. Yeah. Look, there's something in the coop I really want you to look at. I've never seen anything like it, and I have no idea where it came from, and I'm not getting close enough to it until I have some idea of what it is."

 

"Is this, "thing," gonna try to eat me or something? He grimaced. "What the hell is it?"

 

"Well… that's the thing."

 

Back at the coop, the egg remained untouched by both The Farmer and the other hens, who were now piled up in the corner, still eyeing the strange little egg with uncertainty. She and Shane were hunched down, both staring at the egg on the floor, perplexed, and even he had to admit that this was a new one. "What the fuck?"

 

"I know, right? It just… showed up. Scared the girls half to death. They won't go near it." She gestured to the pile of trembling feathers in the corner. "What d'ya think it is?"

 

"An egg, obviously, but it looks… burnt?" He reached out a tentative hand, brushing his finger along the hardened shell, before he gasped and abruptly pulled his hand back, startling her. 

 

"What? What?! What is it?!"

 

"It's warm!"

 

"I mean, it was laid this morning, but-"

 

"No! no! I mean-" He picked up the egg, cupping it in his hands and pushing it towards her. "Feel it!"

 

She jumped back. "Are you crazy!? I ain't touchin' that thing!"

 

"I'm serious!"

 

"Ok. Ok… fine." She cupped her hands, and Shane slid the egg in, and her eyes widened at the feeling. "What the shit?! It feels like it's been microwaved or somthin'!"

 

"Exactly! How could a chicken even lay this?"

 

"Wasn't one of mine. I swear. They're terrified of the thing." The Farmer handed the egg back to Shane, who gently turned it in his hands, inspecting the way the red flakes glistened in the light. "It almost looks fake, but it feels so real. I really don't know what to tell you. Look, Gunther has some books on chicken breeds and stuff. You should try and get your hands on one and see if you can find a match in there. Maybe it's just… I don't know, an unusual breed."

 

They both went quiet, deep in thought as to what to do. It certainly wasn't normal, that was for certain. "What kind of chicken do ya' think would come outta it if it hatched?" They both gave each other a look of mutual agreement and trotted over to the incubator. Shane gingerly placed the little egg in the hay, watching as the little red speckles seemed to glisten slightly. 

 

"I don't think I'll be able to look into it with a flashlight. That black shell won't allow it so I guess just wait and see what happens." He shrugged, not speaking any further than that. He seemed genuinely interested in the strange little egg. Hell, he seemed interested in anything that had to do with chickens, or farm livestock in general. Even though their first meeting was a bit rough, The Farmer smiled, happy that she had someone knowledgeable about animals as her neighbor. She might be a bit lost otherwise.

 

He glanced at her, just barely catching her staring, and she turned her head, pretending to be interested in a little feather on the floor. Shane cleared his throat, the quiet moment growing to be unbearable. "Well… um-" He shook his head, walking towards the coop door. "Just… let me know what becomes of it."

 

The Farmer raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to meet the other hens?" 

 

He stopped momentarily in his tracks, a piqued expression on his face, but he ultimately ignored the feeling. "I've gotta get back to Marnie. She needs help shearing the sheep today."

 

"Ok… alright." 

 

Shane closed the door behind him, not once looking back, and The Farmer sighed. "Well, better than nothing." She felt something soft brush against her leg, and she looked down to see Tiny huddled up against her leg. The other hens had moved from their pile and were now strutting around the incubator, purring at it quizzically. Angel, the smallest of the group, hopped up on its edge, cocking her head at the sight and trilled. "What? Is that your egg or somthin'?" Sure enough, little Angel hopped into the hay, and strutted a couple of circles around the egg, before plopping down on top of it, puffing up her feathers and clucking in contentment. "Well, I'll be damned. How on earth did you- ya' know what? I don't wanna know. You just keep doing your thing, Angel." She scratched the little hen on the head. "Let's see what happens, eh?'

 

Angel was undaunted by the sight of the little egg, that The Farmer learned quickly, as she refused to get off of it no matter what, and the little hen vowed to stay there no matter how long it took, even after spring began to draw to a close, making way for the summer season. The flower dance came and went like every year, hailing at the end of spring. While dancing with Emily, Shane watched out of the corner of his eye as Jas demonstrated a, quite wobbly, but pretty accurate flower dance that The Farmer watched intently, and tried to copy, which she ended up putting her own spin on some of the moves. "You made your own special dance!" Jas squealed, before tugging on her pant leg. "Can you be my dance partner for today, Mrs. Granger? I really want to try it before it ends!"

 

She was a little surprised but shook her head and laughed. "Of course, but I can't say I'll be perfect at it. I've never done this before."

 

"Neither have I!" She grabbed her hand and impatiently dragged her into the lines of dancers, pushing her to Sebastian, who was dancing with Abigail.  "C'mon, C'mon! It's halfway done already!'

 

They both chuckled at the sight. "Aww. You got yourself a dance partner after all!" Abigail mused, and The Farmer got bashful, her dancing not exactly like everyone else's. Though he wasn't exactly fond of her, Shane was admittedly happy that Jas liked the girl, and the two seemed more alike than he had previously realized.

 

"It's good to see Jas finally join in." Emily said. "She never could get Vincent to dance with her. He always stepped on her toes."

 

Summer hit the valley at full force, blasting the town with record heat and turbulent rainstorms. Her spring crops died back, and the days grew more hot and humid. The Farmer had invested in hot peppers and melons, planting rows upon rows of them in front of the farmstead. Around the land, she grew beautiful golden sunflowers that made the farm look so much more delightful, and she would give them out to some of the townsfolk, Haley being the main beneficiary, as they were her most beloved flower.

 

At the Luau, The Farmer showed up with an enormous basket of giant, shiny, red habanero peppers, and Shane had to fight not to drool at the sight. " When did she start growing peppers?! Those ones are huge !" 

 

Sebastian, Sam, and Abigail were at her side, observing her unusually large crops, and congratulating her on the harvest. Sam swiped one of the peppers from the basket and popped it into his mouth as a joke, but the farmer simply smiled knowingly as she watched his face form beads of sweat, and go bright red. He quickly excused himself to nearly drain the punch bowl. The three of them cackled at him the whole time, while Mayor Lewis shook his head at his antics. "At least he didn't bring-"

 

"Anchovies?" The governor laughed. "Yes, indeed."

 

Ascending the ladder up to the pot, she waved hello to Marnie, who was stirring the batch with a comically large wooden spoon ."You made it, and you brought those delicious peppers."

 

"Sure did! They're the best I've ever grown! The soil here is really somethin'." She looked at the governor, the basket tilted over the potluck. "This won't make it too spicy, will it?"

 

"No such thing!" He bellowed, and she dumped the basket full of peppers into the potluck. Later, the governor declared that year's potluck was one of the best he had ever attended.

 

Now, at the end of summer, word of the Moonlight Jellies' arrival swept through town as it did every year, and Jas, just like every year before, begged Shane repeatedly to take her to the docks, which he agreed to every single time. "I take you every year, you know. You don't have to beg."

 

At the farmstead, the Granger granddaughter got a letter in the mail alerting her to the event. " Join us at the docks around 10 pm for a rare and beautiful event! The moonlight jellies will be passing by Pelican Town on their long journey south for the winter ."

 

"Moonlight Jellies… I've never heard of such a thing." Curious, and wanting to see such a rare event for herself, she made it towards the docks at sundown, wanting to claim the best spot on the docks for herself. She was glad to see that everyone in town was already there, eagerly waiting for the lantern boat to launch. Mayor Lewis greeted her. "Glad you could make it! You definitely won't regret it. The moonlight jellies are a spectacle you shouldn't miss."

 

She had also spoken to Miss Evelyn and George. "We've never missed a single year. I've been coming to see the moonlight jellies ever since I was a little girl. I'm glad you get to see it all for yourself."

 

"Hmph. What's so special about these slimy little balls of goo anyway?" George huffed.

 

Soon, the sun had finally rested below the horizon, leaving the people of Pelican Town in near complete darkness, only illuminated by the one, small lantern, and the millions of stars in the sky, untouched by the blinding lights of the nearby Zuzu City. "Wow… you can see almost every single star out here. I could hardly see just the planets back home."

 

Mayor Lewis had untied the rope to the lantern boat, waiting for the signal to let it loose. "You think it's time to launch it, Miss Granger?"

 

"Absolutely!"

 

With that, he let the boat slowly drift out to the open water, and the docks were shrouded in opaque darkness. It was oddly quiet, the only thing being the murmurs of excitement in waiting for the migrating jellies to arrive. The minutes passed, yet there were still no signs of their arrival. "Does it usually take this long?"

 

Suddenly, Vincent grabbed onto his mother's sleeve, jumping up and down on the pier. "Look! Out there! Out there!" The still, clear water began to glow an eerie, white color, and the people on the docks began to "ooh," and "ahh," at the sight. One by one, little round jellyfish began to appear from the distant water, the glow becoming ever more bright the closer they got until the entirety of the beach was lit up like the fourth of July. They looked like stars in the ocean, glowing vividly against the deep backdrop of the sea, or snowflakes on a clear winter's night.

 

The Farmer stared in awe. "All my life I've never seen anything like this. It's beautiful." Nothing back home or nearby could compare to that moment of seeing the Moonlight Jellies, or Lunaloos, as the Wizard called them. She felt like he was right when he said they possess a magic aura stronger than other sea creatures. It could be felt just from watching them.

 

Abigail watched her smile wide as a trio of baby jellies came to the edge, along with one giant, basketball-sized parent. She placed a hand on her shoulder. "So… what do you think of your first Moonlight Jelly Festival?

 

"I know I 'aven't seen the other festivals yet but… I think this one is gonna be my favorite." She said, gazing out onto the water with a look of pure wonder and curiosity that reminded Abigail of a little kid. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and Abigail pretended not to see when she ducked away to wipe them. "You know… it makes me kinda homesick. The ocean."

 

"You grew up near it, did you?"

 

"I did. Everything here reminds me of it, but this is so much better in every way." Bending down, she just barely stuck her fingers into the water, giving one of the jellies a gentle pat on the head, and the gelatinous animal seemed to glow brighter for a moment.

 

Sebastian stepped over to the two of them, watching some of the jellies gravitate towards The Farmer curiously. "They like you."

 

"Who wouldn't." Sam trotted over and ruffled up the hair on her head, making her smile as she swatted him away with her free hand. "Call it animal magnetism." Sebastian swatted him on the shoulder while she giggled. "What?" He whined.

 

Soon, the water was filled with jellyfish in every direction, spanning the entirety of the beach. Vincent was running up and down the waterline maddeningly, hoping to spot his elusive green jellyfish, Willy took a moment to cast a non-lethal line out into the bay for Dimitrius, who wanted to observe and tag a specimen to track its migration patterns, and though Linus kept his distance, The Farmer smiled as he waved hello to the jellies that came close enough for him to see.

 

Dimitrius and Robin were now curled up on the bench, hand in hand, watching the beautiful moment together with Maru leaning up against them. Alex had pushed George's wheelchair out to the edge of the dock, to which he kept responding "If you dump me in I'm gonna haunt you for sure," but he ever so slightly smiled at the sight of the jellies. Even he had to admit it was a breathtaking sight. Evelyn nodded a thank you to Alex and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Nana…" he groaned. 

 

Elliot had rushed into his home to grab a journal, hoping to scribble down the memorable moment for a story one day, and even Pierre had abandoned his pop-up shop to sit with Caroline on the pier, to which Abigail beamed at.

 

Jas and Vincent both crowded around the edge of the pier, while Shane gripped the back of both their shirts, afraid that one of them would fall into the drink. "Easy you two. I'm not gonna be the one to fish you out."

 

"But I wanna see the babies!"

 

"You can see them close enough from here."

 

Only Sam could rival the kids' enthusiasm, grabbing the other's shoulders and pointing whenever a jellyfish came close, to which they would nod their heads and say "I see them too."

 

A faint, green light began to glow below the dock as a stranger-looking jellyfish swam out from underneath it. "Look! Look! Right there! Hey, Vincent! Come here! There's a green one! There's-" Before Sebastian could tell him to back up, Sam's foot slipped off the dock, and he let out a high-pitched yelp as he went face-first into the sea, sending up a giant spray of water, and Shane rolled his eyes as the jellies in the water swam away from the disturbance.

 

"Nice goin' Sam." Abigail shook her head.

 

The Farmer gasped, and jumped upright at the sight, shucking her jacket onto the ground. It was clear that she knew nothing of the moonlight jellies other than the fact that they were jellyfish and, jellyfish being jellyfish, that they probably sting. "No, wait! They don't-" Before they could tell her not to do it, she bolted forward and jumped into the water, sending up another spray of water that Sebastian shielded himself and Abigail from. "You've got to be kidding me." He mumbled.

 

"Why on earth did she jump?" Shane questioned.

 

Some of the people around the dock started howling with laughter while they were under the waves, and Leah piped up from the other distant dock. "So who's gonna tell her that Moonlight Jellies don't sting?!

 

"I have to admire her bravery."

 

"Did no one tell her?"

 

"Oh c'mon guys! Cut her some slack!"

 

"Hey! Here they come!"

 

Both Sam and The Farmer burst out of the water, Sam clinging onto her for dear life with a bewildered look on his face, his usually spiky hair now a blonde mop covering half his face, and The Farmer's clothes were now ruined with seawater. What caught everyone's eye, of course, was the moonlight jelly that sat atop her head like some sort of weird hat, its glow bouncing off the water's surface. She was confused as to why everyone was laughing at her. "What?! What is it?!" 

 

Dimitrius huffed a breath of laughter and bent down on the dock to look at her, amused. "Moonlight Jellies can't sting you, Mrs. Granger. Sam was in no danger."

 

Shane and Jas giggled, while the others roared with laughter, as The Farmer's face went bright red, and she covered her face with her hand. "Oh, mon dieu…"

 

"Mon dew?" Sam questioned, only to find himself plunked back into the water as The Farmer swam over to where Jas was watching, and Sam doggy-paddled back to Sebastian and Abigail. "You could have carried me back!" He called to her.

 

"Your legs work! You can swim."

 

Sebastian was bent down at the edge of the dock, stretching a hand out to Sam for him to grab onto. "You know, it's a toss-up between this and the potluck, Sammy. We're not gonna let you forget about this either."

 

"Like I need any other embarrassments to my name." Sebastian was ready to hoist him out of the water but Sam had other ideas. With a swift yank, he pulled Sebastian into the water with him, the cigarette he had between his teeth being left behind mid-air, only to be extinguished by the water that splashed up afterward. The Farmer and Abigail cackled. 

 

When they breached, Sam sported a dorkish smile at the sight of Sebastian absolutely drenched, clinging to his shoulders. His hair was plastered to his face like some sort of shaggy dog, unable to see anything except his mouth, which was pulled down into a frown. "You know I hate swimming."

 

"But we're swimming with glowing jellyfish!"

 

"That's even worse."

 

On the other side, Jas was bouncing up and down, while Shane kept a death grip on her hand so she wouldn't meet Sam's same fate. "Did you see any baby jellies under the water, Miss Granger?"

 

"Jellyfish were all I could see, Jas." She saw Shane doing his best not to crack up with laughter, and she glared at him with a displeased look on her face. "What are you gawkin' at?" She barked.

 

"I like the hat. Suits ya'" he said, gesturing to her head, and snickering, flashing a sharp-toothed grin.

 

She placed a hand on her head and felt the squishy jellyfish jiggle at the touch, making her grimace, and Shane laughed even harder, while Jas hid her giggles behind her hand. The Farmer about had enough, and she placed the poor jelly in her hand, leaning back and grinning. "Hey Jas, watch this." 

 

When Shane opened his eyes, his fit of laughter almost finished, the wet, gelatinous creature was hurled right at his face, hitting its mark with a wet, sopping splat. The entirety of the docks burst into laughter, Jas probably laughing the loudest of all, as she doubled over at the sight of Shane with a jellyfish plastered onto his face. Behind them, Marnie shook her head. "Not again."

 

"Serves ya' right." The Farmer smirked.

 

Shane peeled the slimy blob off his unamused face and plopped the disoriented critter back into the water to join its family. " Good thing these guys are tougher than most jellies ." He strode up to the edge of the dock, eyeing The Farmer. "Right, you son of a-" Right before he could snatch her up out of the water to throttle her, she used one of the docks wooden beams to push herself backward, barely avoiding the swipe of his hands, and Shane panicked, flailing his arms about as he lost balance. "Oh no- no-! Ah! ope-!" With a giant splash, Shane was the next to go into the drink. The Farmer pointed and cackled at the sight, still swimming backward, hoping to not get strangled because of her little stunt. Shane emerged from the water, coughing and sputtering, his hair no longer spiked up in certain places, and droplets of water clung to the stubble of his face. "Holy shit! It's freezing! I should drown you!"

 

"What? You should thank me. You're swimming with Moonlight Jellies. It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

 

"I could have gone several lifetimes without this."

 

"Speak for yourself." She splashed a spray of water in his direction. "You're smiling ." With that, she ducked back under the water, swimming away with a speed that impressed him.

 

It took a moment for her comment to register, but she was right. " I… I am smiling ." The water caressed his body, he only had to move his legs slightly to stay afloat, and though the jellies had scattered when he fell in, they now returned, wandering up to him and curiously floating around his legs and arms, glowing brightly. He reached his hand out to a little baby and allowed it to settle in the palm of his hand, and it felt like a little blob of jello. "Woah…"

 

On the dock, Jas unclipped the bow from her hair and gingerly set it down. "Me next! Me next! I wanna swim with the jellies!" Before Marnie could tell her not to, especially in her good dress, Jas jumped in next, nearly landing right on top of Shane.

 

The Farmer screeched, "Jas!" but calmed down after she appeared out of the water in front of her immediately after, her hair now loose from the twin buns, cascading into the water. The Farmer sighed in relief. "Oh… you can swim."

 

"Really well!"

 

"I see that."

 

Another loud splash came from behind them, and they turned to see that Abigail had also abandoned her jacket, and shoes, as she too had jumped into the water with a perfect swan dive, and a few onlookers clapped. She waved to Alex and his grandparents on the dock, since he seemed just as eager to do the same. "C'mon, Alex!" The boy tore his shirt off, tossing it to Haley, who just looked at him, disbelieving, and he sprinted down the dock, cannonballing into the water, nearly soaking poor Dimitrius and Robin.

 

"I didn't know this year's theme was "swimming with jellyfish." Lewis grumbled, rubbing his forehead.

 

"Oh, let them have their fun." Marnie giggled. Looking around before doing so, she threaded an arm around Lewis', watching Jas and Shane in the water with a warm smile. "It's been a moment since I've seen Shane and Jas having this much fun anyway."

 

Looking around the bay, the overall tone seemed to change from serene and quiet, to a magical, otherworldly feel as people laughed and splashed water at each other, being joined by the jellyfish who were all too curious to check out the new company. Shane had never seen them as anything remarkable, but the night had completely changed his way of thinking. He would be looking forward to next year's celebration. "Now look at what you've done." He said to The Farmer, gesturing at all the people in the water.

 

"I'd say I've made it better." A jellyfish swam up against her back, and she jumped, laughing away the fear. "Hey Jas, how long can you hold your breath for?

 

"Thirty seconds! That's half a minute!"

 

"Sure is." The Farmer ducked under the water, and popped up a few seconds later next to Jas, splashing some water in her direction. "Climb on my back!"

 

Doing as she said, Jas clung to her soaked shirt and puffed up her cheeks with a deep breath. The Farmer nodded in question, to which Jas held a thumbs-up, and with that, they both disappeared under the waves and into the cloud of jellyfish.

 

When she opened her eyes, she almost opened her mouth in wonder too. In every direction, left, right, up, and down, there was nothing except glowing white jellies. Unable to speak, Jas tugged at The Farmer's jacket, pointing excitedly at the babies that swam past them, little bubbles floating upwards from her nose. From their left, something bright green danced near the corals, and the two of them caught sight of the green jellyfish that started the entire journey.

 

It all ended too soon. She signaled her inability to hold her breath any longer with another tug to her shirt, and they both rocketed up out of the water, taking in lungfuls of air. "That was amazing! There were so many jellyfish! Shane, we saw a green jellyfish under the water!" Jas shook her hair, droplets of water flying in all directions. "You swim like an otter, Miss Granger! Where did you learn that?"

 

"I grew up 'round the water. Natural habit of mine. Though the jellyfish back home stung. Badly. Me and my friends used to do this when we were little."

 

Sam and Sebastian swam up to the two of them, absentmindedly chatting with them while observing the jellyfish, and Shane smiled at the sight of Jas grinning from ear to ear, enamored with the jellies. Abigail paddled up next to him. "Thinking of strangling her for pelting you with a jellyfish? You're lucky they don't sting."

 

He chuckled. "No. Jas thought it was funny. I guess it's alright." He huffed a breath, allowing himself to lean back into the water. "You know something? She's not so bad after all."

 

The Moonlight Jelly festival ended around midnight, when the water became too frigid to continue swimming, and everyone who had jumped in bolted home to change into warm clothes and huddle up around a cozy fire. The next day, the leaves began to change, sporting varying shades of amber, burnt orange, crimson, and gold. Geese could be seen in the sky, flying southward along with the jellyfish, in search of warmer waters.

 

It was The Farmer's favorite season. Free from the scorching grip that summer had on her, she was free to tend to her fall crops without working up such a sweat and doing so without Harvey constantly worrying about heat exhaustion. Pumpkins were her main crop, as she hoped to grow only the biggest and best for Abigail to use as a jack-o'-lantern, and for Evelyn as an ingredient in her Spirit's Eve pumpkin pies.

 

Flower-wise, she had taken to growing beautiful fairy roses for Jas. They came in shades ranging from baby blues to deep, violet shades, and light pinks. They were by far, the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen so, of course, she bought some seed packets from Pierre and began to grow them herself. When she heard that Jas had a special place in her heart for them, she planted an extra patch just for her.

 

Along with the seasonal changes, The Farmer found herself taking long walks at night with Shepherd, autumn's magical night air having called her into Cindersap Forest, where amber and hazel leaves coated the ground in a blanket of fall colors. Blackberries were growing in abundance now, and she had no shortage of them when she ventured out into the woods, snacking on them the whole way through. Once, a fox darted out onto the trail in front of them, and they got a moment to admire its beautiful red coat and plush, bushy tail before it darted back into the bushes. " Oh, if only I had a camera ."

 

Tonight, they were alone with the stars and crickets. She had wanted to sit out on the pond dock for a while and stargaze, hoping to see some meteorites that The Wizard had talked about earlier that week. " I feel an arcane power radiating from them ." He had mentioned.

 

A sharp click snapped her out of her thoughts, and she looked up at the pond ahead of them. It was Shane sitting alone at the water's edge with a beer can in hand. Seems the dock was already occupied. " I should go ." Rather than leave she found herself taking a couple of steps forward. Shepherd whined, looking up at The Farmer as she stared out at the dock, eyes trained on the familiar figure. Unsure of what she was thinking, but following her gut instinct, she tentatively stepped forward, walking out onto the dock. Shepherd paced in a circle before lying down, not exactly fond of being above the water.

 

She found herself taking more careful steps out onto the dock, unsure if he was in need of company or not. Whatever the true reason, it felt like something was pulling her out there, begging her to stay, like someone was tugging her by a leash and, for some insane reason, she was obeying. When her foot hit a creaky plank, making him perk up, she froze. He looked back over his shoulder and, for a moment, she could have sworn she saw a slight smile, but he ducked back before she could confirm. She inhaled sharply and walked up behind him, fixing her gaze on the lake, not wanting to know of the look on his face.

 

"Up late, huh?" He questioned, and she finally stepped up beside him, looking out onto the water.

 

The final fireflies of fall had just begun to emerge, the nights nearly cool enough for them to disappear. They blinked their mesmerizing, glowing patterns in the night in search of other fireflies, painting the forest with little, golden flickers of light. Joining them was the chorus of crickets, vocalizing in unison with the whooperwhills to create nature's nighttime symphony. It was all so very beautiful.

 

A sharp click snapped her out of her thoughts and made the crickets go momentarily silent. Shane had opened another beer, but pushed this one in her direction, the earthy smell of wheat and rye making her mouth water. "Here. Have a cold one."

 

"Oh, bless." She said, taking the can from his hand. "Thank you."

 

"No problem."

 

She regarded the fish in the water below, taking an acorn that had fallen onto the pier, and tossing it into the water, watching as the fish swam up to it expectantly, and even a small turtle joined in. She giggled when the two would chase each other around.

 

Shane sighed, watching a bass snap at one fish that was much smaller. "Buh… life." That she could agree with. Life never showed her any mercy, that was for sure. "You ever feel like no matter what you do, you're gonna fail?" He sighed. "Like you're stuck in some miserable abyss and you're so deep you can't even see the light of day?" Her heart ached at the thought. It was a feeling she used to know all too well, and sometimes that same feeling would rear its ugly head in her most vulnerable moments. She nodded solemnly, looking over at him. He kept his eyes forward, not wanting to see the look on her face. " She probably thinks I'm mental… " Either way, he kept on. "I just feel like no matter how hard I try… I'm not strong enough to climb out of that hole."

 

Memories began to trickle into her mind, eating away at her hardened exterior as she remembered how she felt the same way before moving to Stardew Valley: the smell of alcohol and cigarettes, not showering or brushing her teeth for days, her messy, smelly room, pushing herself to work until she fainted, spiraling deeper and deeper into that pitch black abyss until everything collapsed in one big clusterfuck.

 

She shook her head and tilted back with the beer can, chugging its contents so fast she hardly tasted it. When she finished it, she let out a small, undignified burp. It was impressive, but it also worried Shane. "Fast drinker, huh? Woman after my own heart."

 

Her ears perked, and if the alcohol hadn't already done so, she definitely would have blushed from that. " Ain't I the same woman that tried to beat the shit outta you ?" She held her tongue on that one.

 

"Just don't make it a habit. You've got a future ahead of you still."

 

"Still?" She questioned. "Shane, you're as young as me."

 

He didn't reply, and instead took another sip out of his can, finishing it off. "Well… my liver is begging me to stop. Better call it a night." He turned to The Farmer, meeting her gaze for the first time that night. Partially illuminated by the light of the fireflies, he saw the look in her eyes: that same look she had when he stepped onto her porch weeks ago, in the spring. He couldn't decipher it, whether it was pity, fear, or anything of the sort, it didn't matter. For once he was just glad she wasn't looking at him with that face of hatred that she gave him on day one. Standing up, he dusted off his pants, extending his hand to take her empty beer can, when his fingers brushed her own ever so slightly, he could almost feel the warmth the alcohol was causing coursing through her blood. " Why did I give her that? What if she's like me ?" She caught his gaze right before he turned, sensing a faint air of guilt. "I'll see ya' around." With that, he took wobbly steps off the dock, patting Shepherd's head before heading back to the barn, leaving The Farmer all alone on the dock with her thoughts eating her alive. She never thought she'd see the day, but she found herself wishing he had stayed. Even if it did stress her, it was better than her own solitary company.

 

A wet nose pressed into her hand, and she stiffened, until she realized it was just her loyal dog, who had braved the terrifying dock just to be with her. Shepherd laid his head down on her lap, whining until she placed a hand on his head, scratching behind his ears, and a little smile appeared on his face. She sighed, tilting back to look up at the stars blazing bright above her. 

 

Old memories bubbled up in her mind. Memories from long ago, when she thought all was lost. Now, she was seeing distressing similarities with Shane and his bad habits. He was going down that same, dark path that she had trekked herself, and unless someone tried to pull him off of it, there was no telling how he might end up. " Though I have a pretty good idea ." She thought, gazing out at the cliffs in the distance. A beer can still sat out in the grass from the months before, on that dreary night.

 

He might end up just like her. " Just like me …" A breeze blew through the forest, sending a chill down her spine, and that's when she decided to call it a night. "C'mon, Shep." Leaving the docs, she took one last look at Marnie's ranch, watching the last light go out as Shane headed to bed. From then on, she would be hoping, every single day, that he would wake up the next.

 

"There's more to ya' than what meets the eye, isn't there, Shane?"

____________

Full in-progress fic here!

[stitching-in-time]

Voyager rewatch s3 ep8: Future's End pt 1

Yay I'm so happy to get to this one! I love time travel stories, and this is so much fun. The weird thing is, I remember very well when this first aired, thinking it was so exciting to see a Star Trek crew in a modern setting, but looking at it now, I feel ancient, because it's a period piece now! It's 1990s a-go-go! I'm forcibly jolted back to watching this in middle school, and remembering my room full of Beanie Babies, listening to the Spice Girls, changing from my school backpack to a much cooler, tinier backpack to go with my friends to the mall, and talking to my one friend who watched Voyager about how cool this episode was, and what did we think would happen in the second part, and didn't the observatory girl from this episode have the cutest daisy belt?!

There's just so much silly, fun, fish-out-of-water comedy in this, it never fails to amuse me. Time paradoxes are great, and the blending of finding technology from the Federation's future in the past is clever, but honestly, this episode is about Starfleet characters interacting with 20th century pop culture. Janeway in her white Hilary Clinton-esque pantsuit! Neelix and Kes getting hooked on soap operas! (They are so bored on that ship, I swear they need some community theatre or orchestra or something like they had on the Enterprise to keep them all from going insane.) Tom being a nerd about history, and getting things adorably wrong! (Though I would argue that his use of 'groovy' was actually cool in '96, since all things 60s were experiencing a revival, and I distinctly remember my friends and I decorating a supply box at school with little flowers and peace signs and the words 'peace & love' and 'groovy'. Clearly, the Voyager writers had not caught up with tween girl slang, lol.) But actually, I love that Tom gets to impress a girl with actual science, rather than just hitting on her like a jerky dudebro. It's very sweet, I'm so proud! (And we learn he majored astrophysics at the Academy, which somehow surprised me- he has such strong 'just some guy' energy that sometimes it's easy to forget that he's actually smart!)

Tuvok and Tom being sent on an away mission together is such a great odd couple combo, Tuvok is basically babysitting the kid with adhd in that situation, and watching him attempt to keep his cool is also funny and adorable. I love how Janeway just enables Tom too- when she told him to do what he had to do to get to the observatory, it's like um. Captain. you know you just gave Tom permission to steal a car, right?? And then he totally does steal a car!! They are such chaos gremlins! Tuvok truly does not get paid enough to wrangle his crewmates. (Also, how does Tom know how to drive?! Sure, he's studied cars and all, and might understand the general idea, but like, how does he know what the actual road rules are?! Has he ever driven a car in an actual city before?? There's no road signs in space, he would have no idea what, say, a no turn on red sign means! And they're in LA traffic, no less! And why would Rain give him the keys to her van when they're being shot at?! They met ten minutes ago! She should have been driving!! And how does Tom know what a test drive is?? They don't have cars in the 24 century! Unless maybe they have shuttle dealerships?? Can you test drive a shuttle?? Are they like 'yeah, you can take it as far as Saturn to get a feel for how the impulse engines perform'? lmao I guess Tom's amazing driving skills are just one of those things we have to just go with!)

And Harry gets left in charge of the bridge!! Baby's first command!! When Janeway comes back and tells him he did a good job, his little smile is so sweet!! Dammit Harry, you're too cute!!

One of the few things I thought didn't work was having Janeway and Chakotay clutching their pearls over seeing people with mohawks and pink hair on the boardwalk. Really?? They're in Starfleet, they see actual alien species all the time! They literally have people who are straight up blue-skinned on their ship, do you think they'll be shocked by regular humans with dyed hair?! Are they seriously trying to tell us everyone dresses conservatively and wears beige in the 24th century? Please! Starfleet Headquarters and the Academy are both in California- don't tell me Californians aren't still weird in the future! They'd have seen people dressed like that before, c'mon.

But anyway, the villain being a self-centered, thieving corporate exec is still timely, and it's super funny seeing Voyager get caught on someone's camcorder flying over Los Angeles, they did a good job making those effects shots look authentic. There's just so much good stuff, I'm enjoying the hell out of this one, and excited for part 2!

Tl;dr: A fun, fast-paced fish-out-of-water time travel story, with lots of comedy and great character moments.

[kkodzvken]

take the dive - sugawara koushi x milf!reader

tags/warnings: smut, 18+ ONLY! slight dubcon, infidelity, post timeskip (suga teaches reader’s kids). overstimulation and slight dumbification, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public (in an empty classroom)

a/n: this is my piece for @ultimate-astridwriting’s milf fuckers collab, which you can find here!! thank you for hosting this astrid, and thank u to everyone in the server for ur love and support as i worked on this <33. title cred: take the dive by jonghyun

wc: 3.9k

Amidst a faculty full of stuffy old dinosaurs and suits, Sugawara Koushi is a breath of fresh air. He’s a welcome distraction, a pretty face to focus on at dull PTA meetings and assemblies. And you knew that you weren’t the only one making heart eyes at him. Everywhere that he went, heads turned, and moms whispered. At the bus stop, on the sidelines of sports matches, in the waiting rooms outside dance classes.

It was just that, though -- just whispers. Little knowing glances and nudged shoulders, dreamy sighs and brief sinful indulgences. Nothing more than a brief escape from the monotony of your everyday lives. You’d lose yourselves in the fantasy for a few seconds, and then pull your heads down from the clouds and plant your feet on solid ground. You enjoyed your gossip with the other moms, and then you returned home, to your husband and children. To your family.

You love them, of course. Your children are your world, and your husband is a good man. He’s a good man, and that’s what made it so hard. He treats you well, keeps his words soft and never once put his hands on you. 

He may be good, but, God, was he boring. You can’t remember the last time that he’d even kissed you, let alone fucked you. He came home later and later each night, too tired from work to do anything but silently scarf down his dinner and plant himself on the couch in front of the television. He dragged himself into bed hours after you did. He tried to be quiet, he really did, but he woke you up every single night with his stomping and shuffling. When you snuggled closer to him, he pushed you off. My back hurts too bad, he’d say, voice tinged with regret. Remind me to book another appointment with the chiropractor. 

It was always some excuse or another. 

So, really, you couldn’t blame yourself for your wandering eye. You weren’t going to act on it, of course -- you weren’t a cheater -- but the young teacher was something to occupy yourself with. A pretty face to fill your thoughts as you wrangled your horde of screaming kids from swim lessons to dance practice to art classes. A pretty, pretty body to imagine as you fucked yourself with your fingers, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to muffle your moans. You couldn’t help but imagine that it was him, lithe body leaning over yours. No complaints of aching backs and sore muscles, none of the complications that came with age. 

You’d leave your husband catatonic on the couch, put the kids to sleep, and then go dream of their hot teacher. You should’ve been more ashamed, but there was a part of you that loved the thrill of it. You flushed whenever you saw Mr. Sugawara the next morning, memories of your illicit thoughts filling your mind, but it also made your body feel electric. 

Of course there was a part of you that longed to throw caution to the wind and jump the young man, but your conscience was much stronger than your weak, lustful thoughts. You were happy with the way things were now. As dull as your husband was, and as insufferable as the children could sometimes be, you were happy. 

This was all you had ever wanted. A house in the suburbs, a husband with a well-paying job, three kids and a dog. You’re living the fucking dream. You’re happy, you tell yourself.

So why the fuck are you so unsatisfied?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

With a deep breath, you stare down the heavy glass doors at the school’s entrance. You want nothing more than to find the idiot architect who designed this building, and strangle him for installing pull doors. Your arms are already sore from carrying the giant tray of brownies from your car to the front of the school, and you worry that if you put the treats down to open the door, you wouldn’t be able to lift them up again. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you have two minutes left to reach the gym where the bake sale is being held. The PTA president is notorious for hating latecomers, and you weren’t in the mood to get your head bit off.

You’re debating doing some gymnastics and using your foot to grab the handle, when you notice footsteps approaching from behind you. You open your mouth to ask for help, but they beat you to it. “Let me get the door,” says their syrupy, melodic voice.

Their familiar voice.

Your body practically freezes as a strong arm reaches over your shoulder. Long fingers – fingers that you’ve fantasized about too many times to count – twist the handle and push it open easily. You don’t know how you didn’t notice him approaching sooner, but now that he’s here, your senses are in overdrive. The sweet scent of his cologne, the sound of his breath, the warmth of his body – it’s all too much, and it makes your knees feel weak.

“Mr. Sugawara,” you say, voice coming out much breathier than you intended. This must be some kind of Pavlovian response from all your fantasizing, because there is no reason for your stomach to be twisting right now. “Thank you.”

He grins sheepishly and steps away, and you hate the way that your body screams at you to lean into him. “It’s no problem. Is that for the bake sale? Here, let me carry it for you.”

You try to protest, but there’s really no point. His long fingers are already pushing yours to the sides, and you swear you’ve been electrified as he pulls the tray out of your hands. It’s a shame, really, that he’s wearing a button-down. The sleeves are rolled up to his forearms, at least, but you would’ve loved to see his biceps flex as he carried that tray…

What am I doing? You dig your nails into your palm to snap yourself out of your thoughts, but it’s hard to stay lucid when he’s so beautiful. He carries the brownies with ease, using just one arm to support their weight as the other holds the door open for you. It should make you upset, that you’re so weak in comparison to him, but the thought just makes you feel even more breathless. He’s so strong, so young, and so unlike your husband.

“Thank you,” you say again as he steps into the building behind you. You reach for the tray, but he waves you off.

“Nonsense. I’ll walk you to the gym.”

“Oh, really, you don’t have to—”

“I insist. Anything for my favorite mom.”

His…favorite? His words leave you too stupefied to protest any further, and he takes your silence as compliance. Your body automatically follows in his footsteps as he paces down the hallways.

He looks over at you and smiles comfortingly. It lights up his entire face, but does little to ease your turbulent thoughts.

Your mind is still fixated on his words as you step onto the squeaky wood flooring of the gymnasium. Sugawara calmly walks over to the PTA president, who looks like she’s about to rip her hair out. She’s surrounded by a gaggle of other moms, all jabbering away with concern painted across their faces.

“Is something wrong, ladies?” he asks. His voice snaps them all out of their conversation, and their eyes widen as they take him in.

“Yes,” says the PTA president scornfully. “We were supposed to have the brownies here already! The sale starts in ten minutes, and if this keeps up, I won’t have enough time to inventory everything and make it presentable, and –”

“I have the brownies,” you cut in, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

She blanches, and looks from you to the tray in Sugawara’s arms. An oh is all she can muster before grabbing the brownies and rushing off.

“Is everything okay?” one of the other moms asks, her voice laced with fake sweetness. “Oh, and you look so tired, dear. If you couldn’t manage your part, you should’ve just said so!”

“It would’ve been no trouble,” another woman says. “I’d have had no trouble whipping up a tray for you! Everyone always does love my baking.”

You grit your teeth and resist the urge to snap at them. It’s always like this – the other moms seem so in tune with their lives of domestic bliss, playing games of politics and constantly competing to be the best. Try as you might, you just can’t satisfy yourself with a life like theirs.

The material of Sugawara’s shirt brushes against you, and you start. He doesn’t pull away as you flinch, instead gently resting his hand on the small of your back. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I steal her away? Mrs. (L/N), I have your son’s science fair project sitting in my classroom. He keeps forgetting to bring it home. Would you like to go collect it now?”

You nod, relieved at the excuse to escape these women and their sickening artificial sweetness. Sugawara gently guides you with the hand on your back. You can’t help but internally smirk at the thinly-veiled jealousy on the faces of the other mothers.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.  

“This is why you’re my favorite,” Sugawara says, once you’re safely out of earshot. “All these PTA moms are so fake. But you’re not like that, are you?”

You nod, still a bit convinced that this is all a dream. He doesn’t remove his hand from your back as you walk down the hallways, and only pulls away when you reach the door to his classroom. He fishes through his pocket and pulls out a ring of keys, before insert one into the knob and pushing the door open. He gestures for you to enter first, and so you do, blinking at the harsh sudden brightness of the automatic lights.

You awkwardly glance around the room. You’ve been here plenty of times before, but that was all during the daytime, when it was packed full of energetic children. It feels…strange, to be alone in a classroom as an adult. Or, well, alone, except for the stupidly attractive teacher that you’ve been lusting over.

“Where’s the project?” you ask, trying to diffuse some of the tension building in your stomach. “I should head home soon.”

Sugawara leans his back against the door and cocks his head. “You know, I know what you say about me.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” His eyes rove across your body, lingering on your chest for far longer than they should. “I’m not deaf, you know. I hear all the things you say about me. You’re just like all the other moms.” He pushes off the door, stalking closer to you. You instinctively take a step back. “Only difference is, you might actually have the guts to do something about it.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, so hard that you think your ribs might bruise. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Sugawara. I-”

You take another step back, and another, and suddenly your back collides with concrete. Your body jolts, and you yelp at the sudden pain.

Sugawara leans closer. One of his hands braces against the board behind your head, and the other one comes up to cradle your face. His long fingers hook under your chin and press, forcing you to tilt your head up and meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your lip, and you can’t deny how the sensation makes your body feel like jelly.

Every rational thought in your mind is screaming at you to run, to leave, to get away from him and go back to your husband, but God, it’s been so long since you’ve felt like this. It’s been so long since someone’s made your heart race and your breaths quicken, since someone’s made you blush like a schoolgirl over a simple touch.

“What was that you said?” he asks, his voice dripping with honey. “You don’t know what I’m talking about?”

You swallow and bite the inside of your cheek. The pain does nothing to clear the fog inside your mind. “I-I don’t, I-”

“You do,” he interrupts, his thumb still toying with your lip. “You’re so fucking obvious. I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you?”

“Mr. Sugawara!” His lewd words make you gasp, but more than anything, you hate the fact that he’s right. Your body has a mind of its own, and it wants nothing more than to wrap your lips around his thumb and pull him closer. It wants to feel his arms wrapped around you, feel his body towering over you.

But you can’t. As much as you want to, you can’t, because you have a husband at home who’s waiting for you. Sure, he isn’t home right now, because he’s putting in extra hours at the office. And sure, he hasn’t touched you or made you feel desired in weeks. Hell, you haven’t had a genuine conversation in weeks. But he’s still your husband! You try and remind yourself of that. You roll the thought around in your head, hoping that it’ll push your thoughts of Sugawara away.

But the young teacher is persistent, and there’s a glimmer in his eye that makes your chest tighten. “Call me Koushi, princess.”

“Don’t call me princess –”

“What, you’re going to pretend that it didn’t make you wetter? Going to pretend that you aren’t clenching your thighs together right now?” He leans in even closer, so that his breath brushes against your ear as he whispers. “Your body doesn’t lie, baby.”

A whine slips past your lips at his words, and then you gasp, mortified with yourself. But the grin that covers his face makes your transgression worth it, because God, he’s handsome. His hand squeezes your chin even tighter, and then trails down to your neck. Your breath catches in your chest. You’re hyperaware of his every movement, of his fingers trailing across your skin, his touch feather-light. It leaves you aching for more.

You instinctively whine again, and he lets out a noise of surprised delight. “Whining like this, and you’re still denying that you want me? What’s got you so embarrassed?”

“I have a husband,” you hiss – or, at least, you try to hiss. It comes out more like a whimper than anything else.

Sugawara looks at you for a beat – and then throws his head back and laughs. It catches you off guard, and you furrow your brow. “Why the fuck are you laughing?”

He collects himself, but his eyes are still gleaming when he looks back at you. “Sure, you have a husband. But that doesn’t stop you from thinking about me, does it? Tell me, when’s the last time that your husband took care of you? When’s the last time that he touched you, or fucked you, or made you feel good?”

“Mr. Sugawara, this is inappropriate–”

“Stop lying to yourself.” His voice suddenly drops, his stare forceful and deadly serious. “Say the word, and I’ll go. We can pretend this never happened. But anyone with eyes can tell that you’re unsatisfied.”

“I…I don’t…” Your thoughts feel like a wave, building higher and higher. They bounce around your head, reverberating against your skull, so loud that you can’t even think.

“Why are you settling?”

“Mr. Sugawara, please, I–”

“Why are you settling, when you know you want more?”

The wave crests.

You don’t know who moves first, but somehow, your fingers are tangled in his hair, and his lips are slotted against yours. It’s not soft, or sweet – it’s a mess of teeth and tongues and feverish breaths. His hands are everywhere. They trail over your skin, explore the curves of your chest and your stomach, grip tightly at your waist to pull you closer.

“Mr. Sugawara,” you pant against his lips. Your lungs scream for oxygen, but you can’t bear to drag yourself away from him for even a second. He kisses so well. It may be rushed, and messy, but there’s so much hunger behind his actions that it makes your head spin. It’s like his lips are a live wire, and every second that they touch yours, they send a thousand volts of electricity arcing through your body.

“Koushi,” he breathes. “Call me Koushi, please.” You nod, and then hurriedly undo the buttons of his shirt, popping a few off in the process. Neither of you care. His hands finally dip beneath the hem of your dress, and he wastes no time in unceremoniously tugging it off your body.

Your hands instinctively go to cover yourself. Age and childbirth have changed your body, and you know that Mr. Sugawara – no, Koushi – is probably used to beautiful young women. You still don’t understand why his eye landed on you. He surely has dozens of girls his age fawning over him, with flat stomachs and perky tits. Why you?

He grips your wrists and pries your hands away from your body. “Don’t do that,” he says, so gentle in contrast to the fire from just moments ago. “Don’t cover yourself up. You’re beautiful.”

Oh.

You can’t remember the last time that someone called you beautiful. You can’t remember the last time that you felt beautiful.

But right now, with Koushi staring at you, eyes blown out with lust… you feel it.

He sinks onto his knees, lips already pressing little kisses against your hips and upper thighs. You try and protest – really, Koushi, you don’t have to – but he shushes you instantly. He hooks one of your thighs over his shoulder and dives in without hesitation. Even through the fabric of your panties, you’re in fucking heaven. His tongue laves against your clit, focusing so much attention onto the swollen bead that you can’t help but let out a moan.

You slap your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. You’re in an elementary school, for God’s sake. The bake sale is at the other side of the large building, but you’re terrified of someone walking past and catching you. Guilt swirls around your heart, but it’s quick to dissipate when Koushi tugs your panties off and throws them over his shoulder. He buries himself into your cunt again, and it’s even better without the barrier. The coil in your stomach is tightening embarrassingly fast, but you can’t seem to find it in yourself to care. His tongue laps at your folds, slurping lewdly.

The pleasure is overwhelming. Your body moves of its own accord. Your hips grind against Koushi’s face, and he moans right into your cunt. His lips move up to your clit again, alternating between licking and sucking. You’re so focused on his mouth that you barely notice his fingers, so long and pretty, collecting your wetness.

You do notice when he fucks two of those pretty fingers into you. He immediately starts scissoring his fingers to stretch you out, before hooking them against that spot inside of you that makes your head spin. Your entire body is shaking with euphoria, so much that you can’t handle it.

“Close,” you cry out, trying to keep yourself upright. “Close, close, please, don’t stop!”

He moans into you again when you tug at his hair. It’s the push that you need to finally fall over the edge. You bite into your palm to keep from screaming as you gush all over him, chest heaving and eyes tearing up.

He keeps curling his fingers, keeps lapping at your clit, until you tug on his hair and cry that the overstimulation is too much. As he lets your leg down and stands up, he makes a show of licking your cum off his fingers, slurping on them loudly. It would make you embarrassed, but you’re too focused on his other hand as it dips down to his belt. The muscles of his stomach flex as he undoes the buckle. You take the opportunity to rake your eyes over his toned torso. He seems so slender when he’s dressed, but his shoulders are surprisingly broad.

He looks up at you with a little smirk. “Caught you staring,” he teases. You blush as he pulls his pants and boxers down in one go, freeing his cock. It’s already hard, and so pretty, just like him. His tip is red and dripping with precum. You want so badly to get a taste, but Koushi has other plans. He spins you by your shoulders, and then presses at the small of your back to make you lay across his desk.

You groan when you feel him slap his cock against your ass a few times, before running it through your folds to collect your wetness. “Please,” you gasp. “No teasing, please.”

“Just came, and you’re already needy?” he chuckles. “That husband of yours must really not be satisfying you.”

You’re spared from having to think of a retort by him sinking into you. A cry leaves your lips, but it’s too good for you to even care about the sound. He feels like heaven as he sinks into you. His cock stretches you out deliciously.

You’re already feeling delirious as he starts to shallowly thrust and work his way in. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you. “So – fuck…”

You can’t do anything but moan and scratch at the table as he starts to fuck into you in earnest. His cock is perfectly curved to hit your spot every time, and soon you’re reduced to a mess underneath him. His balls slap against your ass with every thrust. It hurts, it’s all too much, but it’s so fucking good. You don’t think you’ve ever felt pleasure like this – mind numbing and all consuming, so powerful that it makes your eyes roll back.

“Fuck,” he groans again, bending down so that he can loom over you and leave little bites all over your back and shoulders. “Not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that, shit!”

“Faster, please,” you beg, and he obliges. He sets an absolutely brutal pace, somehow managing to fuck you hard, fast, and at the perfect angle all at once. Moans and cries spill freely out of your open mouth. When he reaches forward to toy with your clit, it’s all too much, and it sends you over the edge again. Your body practically spasms as he fucks you through your second orgasm. He shows you no mercy, gives you no time to come down. You don’t know if you’re coming again, or if you just never stopped. Your mind is hazy with pleasure and overstimulation.

You’re a twitching mess by the time that he pulls out, but you still whine at the loss. You’re far too fucked out to turn around and look at him, but in the corner of your consciousness, you can hear him panting and stroking himself furiously. His moans are so beautiful. Within a few short seconds, he’s coming all over your ass, painting your pretty skin white with his seed.

You don’t know how long you’re laying there before he taps your cheek to get your attention. “C’mon now,” he says, a tired smile on his face. “Let’s get you cleaned up. We wouldn’t want your husband finding out, would we?”

[ocean-in-my-rebel-soul]

[Rating: Gen]

Fall in Kirkwall brings heavy rain and morning fog, so different from the summers, so different from home. It steals its way through the seams of Marian’s clothes, under her coat, under her shawl. She weaves her way through the market district, basket in hand, only to find that vendors are closing up stalls and carts in deference to the deluge that cracked through the sky just minutes before.

“Excuse me,” she calls across a fruit stall counter. “Excuse me, Mistress Essa? Are you there?”

An older woman with greying hair and deep laugh lines stands up from beneath the counter and hits her head on the edge. She rubs the bump with a wince. “Oh, hello dear,” she says, blinking owlishly. “You should get out of the rain. I’m actually about to leave, myself. No sense being open when no one is about.”

“I’m trying, ma’am. I’m told you have the finest apples in town. Do you happen to have any? I have a real hankering and am in the market for some fruit.” Marian barely keeps herself from bouncing on her toes in impatient excitement. She thought she would have had more time, but the morning grew long in trying to wrangle her siblings, making her late for the best produce. If the three of them killed her chance of getting everything on the list, so help her Maker, they’d regret it.

Essa smiles warmly and brings out an open straw-filled crate from her covered cart. “I have these,” she says. Nestled inside are seven beautiful apples, gently blushing rosy pink and soft yellow, and even in the rain, their scent is heavenly. “These were grown from trees my family received as gifts from Starkhaven’s own orchards. You won’t find better in the whole city.”

“I’ll take them all!” Marian’s mouth fairly waters as she fishes out her wallet. “Do you have any pears, by chance? I’ll take any you have.”

Essa smiles even brighter. “A handful, yes. They’re a little past their prime, so I can give you a deal. For seven apples and four pears, I’ll sell you the lot for, let’s say, two silver and five copper. How’s that sound?”

“You are an absolute saint,” Marian says as she passes forward her coins. She sets off again with a spring in her step, eyeing the straggling booths still packing up. Three vendors later, her basket is full and heavy. Only the rain-slick tiles of Hightown keep her from skipping down the streets to Lowtown to finish up her shopping list.

Carver and Bethany are tying branches of orange and gold leaves to the stair railings when she walks back into the house. Bethy spies her in the entryway first as Marian’s trading her boots for house slippers. “Garrett’s in the kitchen making a right mess,” she calls, exasperated, waving toward their wayward brother. Marian cocks off a little salute of acknowledgment and makes a beeline for the kitchen.

It’s always a little strange to be in the kitchen here at the estate, the room almost as big as the main area of the cottage back home. A large double oven and stove take up the majority of the left wall, and a long length of counter space and an island make up the main work area. The sink alone is big enough that they could probably wash Trouble in it. The mabari in question sits, gnawing a bone, to Garrett’s immediate right.

Flour is…everywhere. Garrett is bedecked in soft white at the counter where he stirs something in a bowl, his apron doing absolutely nothing to protect his clothes. Marian coughs pointedly and Garrett jumps, spilling flour from his hair like fine snow.

“Sooo,” she says, snickering, setting her basket down on the counter. “I heard you were making a mess. Clearly, Bethy was wrong. You’ve definitely got this figured out.”

“I swear, Mari, I’ve seen Mother make these so many times. I don’t know why it’s so hard!” Garrett pulls away from the counter and the bowl of… mess he is working on with a grimace. “Apparently, I’m all thumbs.”

Marian looks closer, curiosity and the urge to gloat bubbling up in her middle. The bowl held the beginnings of a dough, though she can smell the distinct scent of too much salt as she walks up. Along the counter sits a bowl of butter and a crock of sugar, amongst other ingredients. The salt cellar is tipped over on its side and Marian groans as she cleans it up. “Why don’t you do something magical and clean this all up? I’ll make the honey cakes.” Garrett grumbles under his breath as he works to do just that. “I found everything we need for today at the market—”

Garrett’s face twists in her peripheral vision. “About that…” He wrings his flour-covered hands. “I, uh, may have used most of the eggs.”

She rubs the wrinkled bridge of her nose. “Garrett Maxwell Hawke, I swear on Andraste’s flaming shroud I will end you, you absolute git.”

“I’m sorry! I thought we had more—”

“We had two dozen!”

“Almost two dozen. Almost!”

“Oi! Would you oafs stow your bloody shouting?” comes Carver’s aggravated yell from the parlor. “Orlais can hear you!”

“Shove off, Carver,” Marian and Garrett shout back in unison. They grin at each other, and Marian can’t help the rush of affection for her younger twin. She reaches up to roughly tousle his hair, uncaring of the flour that dusts down her arm.

“You’re going to have to go down to the farms to buy more eggs,” she sing-songs and is rewarded with Garrett’s put-upon sigh.

“But that’s so far away,” he grouses as he finishes cleaning up his mess. “Harin’s farm is closest to the city and he’s still nearly half a mile from the eastern gate!”

“So run. Aren’t you too old to whinge like that? What are you: twenty-six or six?” Marian punches Garrett’s shoulder. “And take Carver with you; I’ll stay here with Bethy.”

Garrett rubs uneasily at his nape. “This place is just crawling with templars. I hate it here, Bethy hates it here, and Carver, too.”

“Mother is the only one happy about being in Kirkwall,” Marian agrees with a sigh. “But that’s why you two have Carver and me here to protect you. Now go, I have stuff to do and not a lot of time. Shoo!”

Read more and comment on AO3!

[gummygowon]

regretful jellyfish | jeong yunho

word count: 1.3k

genre: angst, tiny bit of fluff, best friend yunho x fem. reader

best friends au!

warnings: kind of cheating? (if there's more pls let me know)

song recommendation: restless by bibi & cigarette by offonoff

a/n: this is inspired by my friends and because we can't go to prom this year :(

highschool prom, the one school event you’ve been looking towards to ever since you watched high musical 3. this year's prom theme was something that you were surprisingly looking forward to which was 'under the sea' and located at the city's aquarium. a night of dancing next to fish and sharks with your friends and prom date was something even more than middle school you ever dreamed of.

so far everything has been according to plan, your hair looked gorgeous and your outfit and makeup looked absolutely stunning. and to make things even better, you got asked out by your long time crush, jeong jaehyun. you’ve been crushing on that dude since sophomore year and now in your senior year you finally have a chance to be more than just friends.

yeah, you’ve heard all of the warnings from your friends telling you not to fall for such a playboy but you couldn’t help yourself and his damn smile didn’t help either. so when jaehyun asked you out with a poster and flowers, you almost died from shock right on the spot.

however, your best friend yunho, was the complete opposite of shock. he was more disgusted or maybe even jealous that jaehyun was the one asking you out. yunho heard all the dirty things he did with girls and how he was douchebag to almost everyone which is what made him wary of your friendship with the latter. it also didn’t help that yunho also had feelings for you but he was too much of coward to ever confess. but yunho was only your best friend. best friend...

so if jaehyun made you happy then he would have to bury his feelings even further. sure, it upset him but jaehyun had balls to ask you out which he didn’t have and now the lucky bastard got the girl.

unfortunately, you really should’ve listened to your friends because as soon you guys walked into prom together, jaehyun was already flirting with another girl. you didn’t even bother trying to wrangle him back to you. once he was with a girl, there was no way of getting him back.

with the night already off to a shitty start, you wandered away from the crowd and ventured deeper into the aquarium. you reached the dead end of one of the 'hall of fishes' exhibit which was a big circled room with never ending glass walls full of different marine species swimming inside.

you leaned against the railing, zoning out. how could you be so stupid? there was no way you could have changed him. once a fuck boy always a fuck boy, you idiot.

tears began forming in your eyes the more you thought about the situation. you couldn't cry over some bitch boy. he wasn't worth it. no matter how many hours you spent blushing over him, he wasn't worth it. more thoughts came into your mind like a dumb animal walking into a trap. thoughts that reminded you how dumb you were, pushing you closer and closer to actually crying.

that is until you heard someone enter the room, you sniffled quietly and brought a finger to your eyes, catching any water droplets.

"did you know that jellyfish don't have a brain?" a familiar voice asked.

a smile appeared on your face for the first time this night, "didn't i tell you that?"

ever since your school revealed the theme for prom and venue, you've been spewing out random ocean facts to yunho in pure excitement.

"yeah, you also told me that sharks the only fish to have eyelids." yunho added on, a grin on his face too.

"so you were paying attention to me." you teased as you bumped his arm with your shoulder.

"of course i did, when do i not?"

you laughed at his response before returning your gaze back to the jellyfish swimming around. you weren't sure if yunho knew what happened with jaehyun but he probably found out somehow. he always did.

"why aren't you with your date? the slow dance is coming up soon and i know you've been waiting for it." your best friend asked, he didn't know why he was trying so hard to make sure you and jaehyun worked out or at least for the night. he just wanted you to be happy. to be happy with the guy that you've been crushing on for years. to have this night feel like a dream.

"he left me." you answer bluntly, before turning your gaze back to yunho. guess he didn't know.

"oh. i'm so sor-"

"don't even bother," you wave your hand in the air, shooing away the apology. "i should've listened to you guys anyways."

yunho stood there in silence, staring at a particular blue tang, not knowing what to say. he couldn't just confess right now, that would be inappropriate and selfish of him. usually, he was good at comforting his friends but comforting his crush after they got rejected by the guy they've been pinning after for years was something he didn't know how to do.

"you can go back, the slow dance must be starting soon." you said after breaking the silence. "i don't wanna ruin your night too."

yunho's heart was beating faster as his mind was violently urging him to ask you to dance or just say something. "it's okay, i don't wanna leave you alone."

you were about to argue for him to go back but you decided against it and smiled back instead, looking back at the fish swimming back and forth with the kelp swaying in the back.

the two of you were in a peaceful silence, looking at the aquatic animals thinking different things.

your mind was yelling at you for being a dumbass and believing that you would be the one to change a fuck boy's mind while yunho's was yelling at him for being a coward.

if he just confessed to you before jaehyun ever came into the picture, you wouldn't be here on the brink of tears on the one event you've been waiting for since you were seven. you guys could be slow dancing together, problem-free and regret-free.

from the distance, you guys could hear the dj's loud voice drift into the room, "ladies and gents, gather your partners because it's time to slow it down!" loud ooo's and cheers joined in right after.

"may, i have this dance m'lady?" yunho asks with his heart beating out of his chest and cheeks flushing a faint red.

a bright smile appears on your face as you take his hand, "of course, sir."

as soon yunho brought you closer to him, you realize how much he's been there for you ever since you guys became friends. memories flooded your head, almost bringing you tears of happiness. you pulled yunho even closer to your body, burying your head into his neck while his arms wrapped around your waist tighter.

slowly but gracefully, you guys swayed to the distant slow song with thoughts full of regret. regret about not confessing sooner and regret about not listening to your friends.

the longer you danced, the more you thought about how much your best friend was the better option. in a way, it made you feel selfish for thinking of yunho as just a choice leading you to thinking that he deserved a better partner than you. someone who could cherish him from the start and all the way to the very end.

yunho, on the other hand wanted this moment to last forever. slow dancing in the dark with his crush, as he held onto you like you were the only thing that matter. if he couldn't have you like this for himself, then he would have to make sure moments like these lasted. sure, it was a little self-centered of him but this was the price had to pay for waiting.

the price of waiting: a dance with the girl he wants but she had her heart set on someone else.

and the price of this dance with this boy: the girl realizes she's been in love with him this whole time.

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch.3: Jesus Is A Pisces

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder has forgotten Scully’s birthday every year but one. Actually, make that two now, since this year he’s determined to make the day special for her somehow. He’d asked her casually what her plans were, and she admitted that outside of a lunch with her mother and some church friends on Sunday the 22nd, she didn’t really have any intention to celebrate.

“It’s been a rough couple months,” she’d explained softly, and that’s all he needed to hear.  She’d gained and then buried a daughter within a few days’ time over Christmas, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know how she managed to stay sane after that, and if he thought about it for too long the waves of powerlessness and guilt that rolled over him were debilitating.

So instead he focused on what he could do.

“You wanna do something after work on Monday? I promise to be as un-festive as possible,” he offered.

She looked uncertain, licked her lip. “Just us?” she asked.

“Just you and me,” Mulder assured her, the words giving him a tiny, shameful thrill.

She was quiet for a moment. “Sure,” she said finally.

Come Monday, February 23rd, it’s business as usual in the basement office. They finalize their reports from the previous week’s case, wrangle their receipts, argue over who broke the stapler (It was him, she insists; while he claims she jammed the staples in and made it impossible to use properly).

At three minutes to five o’clock, she clears her throat softly as she gathers her things, and he can feel her preparing to speak.

“Yeah, Scully?” he murmurs.

“We still on for tonight?” she asks, sounding almost cautious, and his heart fractures.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he confirms, leafing through a file. “Be sure to bundle up.” He looks up at her and gives her a reassuring grin.

She looks happy and… relieved? Huh.

“Well, I’ll see you then,” she says, shrugging on her coat as she leaves.

Mulder smiles at the door as it clicks shut behind her. He’s unusually giddy about what he has planned for the evening.

Over the weekend he had gone to the grocery store since his refrigerator was barren, then camped out in his building’s laundry room all day Sunday washing every blanket he owned. He even stopped at the little bakery around the corner from his apartment, purchasing a single chocolate cupcake and a loaf of rye bread.

After work he packs his car with a cooler, a duffel bag, a large thermos of coffee, and a pile of blankets.

He’s surprised to see that she’s waiting for him on the steps of her apartment, wearing a heavy jacket and thick turtleneck sweater.

“I got too hot wearing all this inside,” she explains, climbing into the passenger seat. She seems almost excited, and he strangely wants to cry. God, he’s so fucking glad he had the balls to invite her out again.

“Where are we going, Mulder?” Scully asks.

“It’s a surprise,” he replies.

Seven minutes and three wrong turns later, he reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out the map, handing it to her. “Rock Creek Park, please, Navigator,” he says.

“Aha! I thought the route we were taking seemed… circuitous,” Scully says with a smirk, unfolding the map.

“Just tell me where to go; I don’t need a running commentary,” he gripes, secretly relishing her needling.

In about twenty minutes, they arrive at the park’s nature center. Mulder pulls into the lot next to the field across the road and cuts the engine.

“We’re here?” Scully asks, looking around. “It’s deserted. Mulder, please don’t tell me we’re ghost hunting,”

“Ghosts? No,” he says, climbing out of the car and going around to the trunk. “Help me with some stuff?”

Scully comes around to the back of the car, where Mulder hands her the cooler and thermos. He slings the duffel bag over his shoulder and gathers up the pile of blankets. “Close the trunk, will you, Scully?” he says, walking towards the field. “My arms are full.”

They trudge out to the middle of the field, cold winter air biting their cheeks. Mulder stops abruptly and drops the blankets onto the ground in a heap.

“We’re here,” he announces, setting down the duffel bag. He picks up a heavy wool blanket and spreads it out on the grass.

Scully sits down on the blanket, cooler and thermos beside her. “What exactly are we doing out here, Mulder?” she asks.

“Well first, we eat,” he replies, reaching for the cooler. He opens it and pulls out two waxed-paper parcels, handing one to her. “Pastrami on rye,” he announces. “I went a little crazy with the mustard on one of them, we can trade if you want.”

“You made these?” she asks, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite. “Oh my god,” she groans. “Mulder, you’ve been holding out on me. This is delicious.”

The satisfaction in her voice makes him flush. “It’s pretty hard to mess up pastrami.”

“True,” she agrees, “but I was starting to doubt you could even make food. Your refrigerator is usually pretty sparse.”

Mulder shrugs, opening the thermos of coffee and pouring her a cup. “Cooking for one doesn’t hold much appeal,” he explains.

“Mm,” she agrees around a mouthful of sandwich, taking the proffered cup. “So Mulder, tell me; is there a reason we’re having a picnic in the dark?” She eyes the duffel bag beside him suspiciously.

“I’m glad you asked,” he replies, unzipping the bag and pulling out a tripod. “You know anything about constellations, Scully?”

It’s a rhetorical question, of course. He already knows.

“A thing or two,” she replies casually, clearly attempting to hide the smile sneaking across her mouth as she eats.

“Well that’s good, seeing as I lugged this telescope and a star map all the way out here,” he says, pulling the telescope case out of the bag.

Scully is enraptured, and Mulder thinks this might be the best thing he’s ever done for anyone.

“I haven’t done this in years,” she says, peering through the eyepiece as she adjusts the telescope’s position. “Not since…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to. He remembers her telling him once, on a long car ride to some anonymous, unremarkable town, about stargazing with her father when she was a child. Captain Ahab and his Starbuck, navigating the night skies by way of celestial markers.

The temperature’s dropping, and Mulder drapes the ratty tribal weave blanket from his couch around her shoulders as she searches the heavens.

“You want a turn?” she asks, drawing back from the telescope for a moment.

He shakes his head, plops down on the blanket and gazes at her instead.

They could be astronauts together, sailors of the stars. Dropping anchor in pools of the Milky Way, swimming through constellations and running their fingers through glittering strands of nebulae.

“I’m good,” he replies softly.

“Mulder?” Scully says from under a pile of blankets.

They’re lying on their backs now, side by side, eyes on the sky. Waiting for a meteor, or a passing satellite, or for God to wave hello.

“Yeah, Scully?”

“Do you give any credence to astrology, or is that too close to religion for you?”

“I appreciate its historical and cultural significance,” he replies. “Beyond that, I can’t say I have much of an opinion on it. Aren’t you a Pisces?” he asks, as though he doesn’t already know that she is, and that he’s a Libra, and that the shitty magazine he picked up in the dentist’s office says they’d be a tumultuous but passionate match. Not that he gives horoscopes any weight.

Passionate, though…

“I am. And I’m inclined to agree with you, though astrology’s link with early Christianity is fascinating. For example, did you know that Jesus is linked to Pisces? His birth coincides with the dawning of the astrological Age of Pisces, which spans from 1 AD to the year 2150. There are many scriptural references to fishermen, and early Christians used the fish symbol as a sign of their faith.”

“Huh,” he says, tucking a blanket more tightly around his shoulders.

“I don’t believe that the stars dictate my temperament, by the way,” Scully continues. “But there’s something beautiful about having a constellation in the sky that corresponds with your own birth. Missy knew more about this stuff,” she say wistfully. “She’d read me my horoscope every morning before school while we brushed our hair or whatever, in the bathroom where Mom couldn’t hear. It was fun,” she says with a sigh.

“Do you think she’s out there, in the stars?” Mulder asks and immediately regrets it. He didn’t mean the question to sound flippant.

Scully takes it in stride. “Is it crazy if I say maybe? There’s… there’s things I’ve seen and heard, Mulder, that I can’t explain. Who am I to say how God operates? Maybe He’s laid the stars out like a map for us to read. That’s probably wishful thinking, but life would be a hell of a lot simpler if everything was dictated by heavenly bodies.”

“Better that than by governing bodies,” Mulder agrees.

Their eyes drift along the razor-sharp curves of the crescent moon.

“My mom wants to set me up with one of her church friends’ sons,” Scully says without preamble.

“Huh,” Mulder replies, tracing Orion with his eyes. “Let me guess; he’s a dentist.”

“Emergency physician, actually,” she replies. “He’s nice.”

Mulder suddenly feels the weight of gravity pressing him down to earth. He can feel the rotation of the planet under his back, spinning him at a thousand miles an hour. “You’ve met him?” he asks.

“Yesterday, at lunch,” Scully replies. “He’s a widower, with a six-year-old daughter. I think… I think my mom thinks we could help each other.”

Mulder’s stomach churns, a facsimile of seasickness rolling through his body. “What do you think?” he asks, voice oddly hoarse. “Do you… agree with her?”

Scully pulls the blanket higher under her chin and sighs. “I don’t know, Mulder. I’m thirty-four today, and my career runs my life. I’m not sure how many chances at a family will come my way in the future. It’s not ideal, but maybe I’m past the point of getting to choose.” She pauses. “I’m sorry, I’m being fatalistic.”

Despite the near-freezing temperature, he’s got a cold sweat forming on his back. “You can always choose, Scully. As far as I see it. It’s-it’s important to me that you know that.”

She rolls onto her side, snaking a hand out of the blanket to prop herself up on her elbow beside him. “Mulder, I know you blame yourself for the things that have happened to me. But they’re not your fault.” He opens his mouth and she interrupts him before he can speak. “Don’t argue with me. It’s my birthday.”

He’s grateful for a change of subject. “That reminds me,” he says, sitting up and reaching over to open the cooler.

He pulls out a small pink bakery box and opens it to remove a single chocolate cupcake with a candle stuck in the middle. He digs a lighter out of his coat pocket and gives it a flick, igniting the candle.

“Happy birthday, Scully,” he says sheepishly, holding out the cupcake.

The single flame shimmers in her eyes as she takes the dessert. “Mulder,” she says softly, in a tone that makes his heart turn to liquid. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Just make a wish and blow the candle out before the wind does it for you,” he replies. There’s only a bit of a breeze but he’s not taking any chances. She deserves a wish.

Her eyes fall closed, and she sighs contentedly, no doubt formulating her request. Suddenly she opens her eyes and locks her gaze with his over the flickering candle, and Mulder feels a thousand words rumbling in him like an approaching avalanche.

Before he can say anything she purses her lips and extinguishes the lone flame with a breath.

She pulls the candle out of the cupcake and pops the end into her mouth, licking off chocolate frosting, and Mulder thinks he might die right there on a blanket in Rock Creek Park. He’s been so good, keeping his feelings to himself, but in this moment his only thoughts are that he loves her and wants her; no, needs her. He needs to touch her, taste the icing on her lips, map the constellations of freckles hiding beneath her sweater. Shake the winter chill out of his bones, letting the flames of her red hair lick across his skin and light his whole body on fire.

She’s saying something to him, biting into the cupcake, chocolate crumbs falling onto the blanket.

“Hm?” he asks, returning to terra firma.

“I asked if you wanted a bite,” she reiterates.

Yes, his body responds. Please please please-

“It’s yours,” he says as a declination.

“Therefore it’s mine to share,” she declares. She holds it out to him, and his stomach flutters as he leans in and takes a bite. He thinks of his parents’ faded wedding photos, of them feeding each other cake in black and white.

Don’t date the doctor guy, he pleads silently as he chews. Stay with me. Show me galaxies.

She falls asleep on the car ride home with one of his blankets tucked around her, the car’s heater cranked all the way up. When he parks in front of her building she stirs, likely awoken by the sudden cessation of warm air on her feet.

“Scully,” Mulder says softly, “We’re home.”

“Mmm,” she responds. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” he answers, glancing at his watch. “Can you walk or should I carry you up?” The question feels faintly suggestive, and he’s only being so bold because she’s drowsy and likely not registering the subtext.

“I can walk,” she says, sitting up and removing the blanket. Her hair is a fuzzy red halo in the glow of the streetlights.

“I’ll go with you,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Make sure you don’t pass out on your way up.”

“Thanks,” she yawns. “I don’t know why car rides make me so drowsy,” she says. “It’s like I’m five years old again.”

“Or it’s hypothermia,” Mulder suggests jokingly. “It got pretty damn cold out there.”

“Winter night picnics aren’t the most practical, it’s true,” she says. “But the blankets and coffee were a good idea.”

When they reach Scully’s apartment door she turns to face him. “Thank you for this,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”

He smiles softly at her. “Happy birthday,” he replies.

He’s mentally debating giving her a hug when she reaches out and pulls him in gently, arms looped around his waist. He wraps his arms around her and drops a light kiss to the crown of her head.

It’s over way too soon.

“Goodnight,” she says. “See you tomorrow.”

If he says anything else to her before she slips into the apartment and closes the door, he doesn’t remember it. His feet are firmly on the ground, carrying him out of her apartment building and back to his car, but his head is far above the atmosphere, adrift in space.

He’s so in love he feels as though he’s running out of air.

[alderaani]

weathering

i really am absolutely wiped out today, so this is not my best, but here’s a little something for day 7 of @commandercodyweek with today’s theme “missing perspectives”. this one’s a little homage to the fact that i was SO MAD when season five nearly gave us youngling rescuer Cody and then snatched it away again. 

summary: Cody knows what it’s like when you’re burning on fumes and get stuck in your own head. he gives Ahsoka a quiet moment and helps her let it go.

-

“Hey, kid,” he says, tilting his head down to get a proper look at her. “Looks like it was a rough one.”

Tano sighs, fishing out a smile for him. There’s dirt smudged through the markings on her cheeks and her akul tooth headdress is slightly awry. He sweeps his gaze over her face, taking in the shadows under her eyes, the tightness in her shoulders. She looks rough, not that he can blame her.

“Yeah, you know how it is with Hondo,” she shrugs, then yawns behind her hand and forces herself to straighten again.

Cody casts a dirty look at the open space overhead, in the general direction that the pirate ship had vanished in, with a good quantity of Republic credits and far more dignity than it’d deserved. Both privately and vocally Cody thinks that Ohnaka deserved nothing more than a boot up his ass, even if Obi-Wan is probably right that treating him with tolerance keeps them on better terms. He’d pointed out that hiring him to help them on Onderon hadn’t stopped him from kidnapping seven younglings, and then walked straight into the rebuttal of yes, it hadn’t, and would he just think of how much worse it could have been, had they not had those bonds?

Perhaps Cody’s just spoiling for a fight after all those hours crouched in an escape pod, helpless to do anything at all and deeply, painfully aware that every minute spent there meant that the younglings were on their own.

Still, Obi-Wan is usually right, however annoying that often is when he drags himself half-dead out of a campaign with no excuse other than a bold-faced ‘it worked, didn’t it?’. 

That thought had stopped him from physically detaining the wretch the minute Hondo had stepped foot on his ship, but just barely. He’d contented himself with glaring over Obi-Wan’s shoulder with enough force to melt the paint off of armour instead, blaster drawn with the safety off. Looking at the state Tano is in now, he wants to commandeer a fighter and chase after that miserable pirate to put a healthy dose of fear into him.

“Hm,” he says, huffing a soft laugh at the sight of the little Nautolan youngling’s slack-jawed awe when Obi-Wan lets him see his lightsaber. “Sometimes it feels like far too many roads lead to Florrum.” 

That makes her snort, but as quickly as it comes, she sighs and crosses her arms. “Figures I can’t even make it through a simple escort mission without things getting complicated.” 

He raises an eyebrow, even though she can’t see it, and feels a helpless little smile break over his face at the self-depreciating expression she’s wearing. He knows exactly where she learnt that one, can’t count the number of times he’s seen Rex wear precisely that shade of wry defeat. 

“Ahsoka, Ahsoka!” One of the younglings calls, and he sees the way her shoulders climb up to her montrals, how she forces her expression to ease out as she turns to look. “Didn’t one of the pirates try to armbar me, and didn’t I-”

Some of the others cut in then, clamoring with eager voices that tumble over each other in an excited, tumultuous rush. Their eyes are bright, flushed with first victory like a little pack of eager shinies. It’s well deserved, if half of what they’re saying is true. But he can see the way Tano has locked up, the way she’s swaying a little in place and fighting it hard. 

Not even Jedi can go on forever, and for all he knows she a force to be reckoned with, she’s still just a youngling herself. 

Gently, he detangles her from where the Ithorian and the Wookie have started demonstrating some of their circus acrobatics and takes his helmet off so that he can cast a significant look at Obi-Wan. He remembers all too well how that used to feel - that special adrenaline that used to spike on his first days in command, the unique weight of that pressure to do everything right, of everyone's expectation and their trust, too. He used to struggle to let it go, too, and has wrangled far too many little brothers into setting aside their own burdens. One more go at it isn’t a hardship. 

“I think the General’s got it handled here,” he says. “How about we head up to the mess and find some caf? It won’t be great, but it’ll be warm.” 

“Oh!” Ahsoka says, and he sees it, the way she starts to relax at the thought and then drags herself back, that same stubbornness that powers her through campaigns hamstringing her now. “That’s okay, but - I’m sure he’s got things he needs to do, I can’t expect him to -,” 

Cody loops a loose arm around her shoulders and steers her round to the blast doors.

“Believe me, he’ll be thrilled to have the excuse not to.”

He leads her out of the hangar, snatching Obi-Wan’s robe from a bench and draping it round her shoulders. He won’t miss it - and he smirks at the expression of delighted glee she gets at his derisive tone when he tells her so. Skywalker might think that he has as much rigidity as a stale ration bar, and Cody might be happy to let him while it still suits, but Tano’s a much-needed ally in managing the Kenobi-Skywalker show. 

He sits her down in the empty mess, setting a full steaming mug and a plate full of the jerky strips Rex says she likes in front of her, making light conversation until she’s comfortable enough to sag into the robe and the tight look around her eyes has faded. He can see the crash rolling in as the adrenaline fades, and makes sure his shoulder is there for her to land on as it hits.

“I’m so glad we made it back,” she murmurs, her eyes slowly drifting closed.

Cody smiles, nudging her caf mug back out of the range of her sleep-slack fingers, and waves down Aster to find out where they’re all bunking. 

“Trust me, Commander. You couldn’t have done a better job.”

He sees the moment she starts to believe him, the corners of her smile easing into something a little more genuine. 

“Thanks, Cody.”

[fruitcoops]

Idea for jules staying with coops... Jules gets a bad dream and crawls into bed with them? Only if you want to ofc! I love e everything you write, that k you for sharing it with us! -🌼

Part three! Find Part 1 here and Part 2 here. Sweater Weather/ Jules credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for nightmares (plane crashes and cracking ice)

Lily Potter was a goddess. That belief was only solidified when she called Remus the morning of the game and offered to take care of Jules for the day while they went through their regular pre-game rituals. Jules, of course, was only too happy to go—he adored Harry and was still in the stage where babies were just gross enough to be cool.

And yet it was strange having the house to themselves. Remus kept checking over his shoulder for Jules, and Sirius called him down for lunch twice before remembering that he wasn’t there. Hattie got plenty of extra attention in his absence.

They arrived at the rink two hours before game time; there was minimal delay getting out of the house without wrangling a ten-year-old, but to be honest, Remus kind of missed it. Fans were already flooding into the stadium when they arrived and he scanned the crowds for red hair or a pompom-topped beanie, even though Jules was much too small to be easily seen in the rush.

Shake it off, Loops, you’ve got a game to win.

The locker room hummed with energy as everyone taped up and buckled in. Sirius gave his usual fearless-leader speech, Frank’s voice boomed outside, and then they were on the ice.

“Heads up, Loops!” James called, passing him the puck for a quick tap-around. Remus rolled his shoulders out and took a deep breath—he knew he had to trust Lily and the girls to keep an eye on Jules. It’s just a couple hours. Get in the zone.

It was a fast game. The Ravens may not have been the biggest team, but they were lightning on their blades and had a knack for hard hits when the opposition least expected it. Remus got checked twice in the first five minutes alone; that snapped him out of his worried haze quick enough, and he dug his skates in. Time to win.

“Twelve!” he shouted over the roar of the stadiums, slamming the puck toward Sirius and hip-checking number 18 into the boards as he flew past. Sirius caught it—of course he did, Remus thought with a small smile—and looped around for a beautiful goal. “Hell yeah!”

The fans erupted in cheers and he caught a glimpse of Jules’ face near the glass on the opposite side, sandwiched tightly between Lily and Regulus. The last latent tension melted away and he let out a slow breath, skating over celebrate Sirius’ goal.

“I found Jules!” Sirius said, tilting his head toward the glass when he arrived. “He’s okay!”

“I know, I saw!” Remus knocked their helmets together before returning to his position.

The Lions were on fire after that, steady and inevitable against the quick movements of the Ravens. When those blue jerseys tried to slip between the defense, the line tightened and netted them like fish; when they tried to get between the Lions offense, James and Remus circled back around and laid in wait for a pass.

The final buzzer went off and the stadium roared: Lions win, 3-1. Jules was jumping up and down and yelling himself hoarse as the teams shook hands and went back to their locker rooms to clean up for the media.

When all interrogations were vaguely answered and Remus’ hair was dry enough not to freeze in the nighttime air, he and Sirius walked back into the lobby to collect their kid. Jules waved when he saw them from his perch on Regulus’ shoulders—Sirius made a soft noise at the sight and gave Remus’ hand a squeeze.

“Hey, buddy, how was the game?” Remus asked, reaching up for a fist bump when they wandered over.

“It was awesome!” Jules practically shouted. “I got a Twix!”

“Did you?”

“We split one,” Regulus clarified, glancing up at Jules with unbridled fondness. “More of a seventy-thirty situation, to be honest.”

“Got it,” Remus laughed. “Lils, how’s the baby?”

“He napped, shockingly enough.” She turned so they could see Harry’s smushy baby face blinking back at them from his chest wrap. “I don’t think the Ravens worried him that much.”

“There they are!” James appeared in the crowd and swept Lily in for a kiss, then bent to place a  million on Harry’s head until he shrieked with giggles. “Hey, sunshine!”

“Here, my shoulders need a break.” Lily carefully unwound the wrap and helped James slip into it; immediately, Harry reached for his glasses, babbling happily.

“Are you ready to head home, buddy?” Sirius asked Jules, who was watching Harry with wide eyes.

He paused, looked down at Regulus, then nodded. “I guess so. Bye, Regulus.”

“See you later, kiddo.” Regulus bent down to let him off his shoulders, then startled a bit as Jules turned around and hugged him tight around the waist. “I’ll stop by before you leave, d’accord?”

“Thanks for letting me sit with you,” he said, voice muffled by the red sweatshirt.

“Thanks for sharing your Twix.” The edges of Regulus’ eyes crinkled and Remus leaned closer to Sirius’ side, running a thumb over the back of his hand. “Alright, I think our pain-in-the-patootie brothers want to get out of here.”

Jules looked up at him and frowned. “You can say ‘ass’ around me, you know.”

“Jules!” Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus exclaimed at the same time as Regulus burst out laughing.

“What? It’s true!”

“Come on, gremlin,” Remus said, grabbing his hands and letting him stand on his feet as they walked out. “What are we going to do with you?”

“Make dinner?”

Remus laughed, even as the cold air made them all shiver. “I think I can manage that, sure.”

“Lily made pasta for lunch and it was so good.”

“Yeah?” Sirius shared an amused look with him. “I’m glad you had fun.”

“We did a puzzle, and I got to play with the baby, and then we made some cookies—” He closed his mouth abruptly. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“…can I swear?”

Sirius snorted. “Sure.”

“She said the two of you would throw a bitch fit if you found out she made cookies and didn’t let you have any.” He grinned upward as Remus scoffed in disbelief. “Then she apologized for swearing and gave me three.”

“I say we make some brownies with caramel, send her a picture, and then refuse to give her any,” Remus suggested as they reached the car. “Those are her favorite. We’ll see who throws a bitch fit then.”

Sirius made a face and closed the trunk. “I mean, she is taking care of a baby and is married to James Potter. I think she’s entitled to a bit of a bitch fit now and then.”

“Fair point. Buckle your seatbelt, Jules.”

“I always do!”

“Just checking.”

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

Jules was asleep by nine, just as Remus expected. It had been a busy day for him—going to the game would have been enough to knock him out pretty well, but combined with a full day of activity it was a miracle he lasted that long. He took a picture of the sleeping kid and sent it to Lily with a quick ‘thank you’ and the promise of caramel brownies. She really did deserve some.

“D’you want to go to bed?” Sirius asked as he settled down on the couch next to Remus while he read.

Remus yawned and checked the clock; it was barely ten pm. “Yeah, sure.”

They stumbled up the stairs, both dead on their feet and sore as hell, then tugged on pajamas and slid under the covers for a good, solid cuddle. Remus pressed his back into Sirius’ warmth, feeling the heavy tide of sleep roll closer. “Love you,” he whispered in the darkness.

Sirius smiled against the back on his neck and wrapped an arm around his ribs, pulling him even closer with a kiss to the shell of his ear. “Love you, too, mon loup.”

Remus dreamed of ice. A frozen pond, to be specific, where Jules flew past him on his skates and Sirius followed, both laughing so hard they gasped with it. Sirius caught his hand as he passed, pulling him along as the three of them—no, five, his parents were there as well—looped in wide circles.

A bolt of fear shot through him when he heard the telltale sound of cracking ice and he reached for Jules’ coat collar; the soft fleece of the inside brushed his fingertips, but he was too far away to pull him to safety. Jules was going to fall. Didn’t he hear it? Didn’t he understand?

“Re?” A soft, terrified voice broke through his dream and his eyes flew open. The room was dark, save for a bit of light from the hallway. Sirius was still against his back, breathing steadily as he slept. And Jules was standing about a foot away from the edge of the bed with tearstains on his face.

“Jules?” He scrubbed a hand over his cheek and sat up. “What’s going on?”

“I had a nightmare.” His lower lip trembled as he stared at Remus, clearly shaken.

“Oh. M’kay.” Next to him, Sirius inhaled deeply and shifted, reaching for him; Remus brushed his dark hair off his face and shushed him softly. “Go back to sleep, love.”

“I didn’t mean to wake Sirius up.” Jules sniffled and blinked a couple times.

“Don’t worry, buddy, it’s fine. Do you want me to tuck you back in?” Jules shook his head as tears spilled over and Remus swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, pulling him close for a hug. “Hey, shh, you’re alright. You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

“It was awful,” Jules sobbed, clinging to Remus’ shoulders as he buried his face in his chest.

“What was?”

“My nightmare.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Jules shook his head; Remus kissed his forehead and kept his lips there, closing his eyes. “Oh, buddy.”

“ ‘s everything okay?” Sirius mumbled as he sat up. He frowned in the dim light before he saw the two of them and concern covered his face. “What happened?”

“Jules had a nightmare,” Remus explained quietly. Jules pulled away and wiped furiously at his face with his sleeve.

“I’m fine.” His voice broke on the last word, though, and he stared down at the floor.

“It’s okay if you��re not,” Sirius said gently, scooting over to see him better. “Nightmares are really scary.”

Jules’ breath caught. “I dunno if I can go back to sleep.”

“We can stay up for a bit.”

Remus tipped Jules’ chin up and wiped a stray tear away. “Do you want to make hot cocoa?”

A sniffle. “Yeah.”

“Alright, come on.”

Sirius stood up as well, which seemed to surprise Jules if his lingering look was any indication. He plastered himself to Remus’ side as they walked into the kitchen, then climbed up to sit on the countertop as Remus began collecting ingredients. Sirius dampened a paper towel with warm water and tapped his nose with it to make him smile before handing it over so he could wipe his face.

They worked in silence for a few minutes until the milk steamed and Sirius took three mugs down from the cupboard. Remus leaned on the counter and made sure Jules had taken a few sips of cocoa before he spoke. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jules shook his head, then paused. “The plane crashed.”

“Which plane?”

“Mom and Dad’s.” Tears welled up in his eyes again and Remus reached over to rub his back. “They couldn’t get out.”

He heard Sirius sigh and gathered Jules up in his arms, giving him a little squeeze. “That sounds really scary, buddy.”

“It felt so real.”

“I promise it wasn’t.”

“How do you know?” The hint of a sob hitched in his voice and Remus let go of him for a second to grab his phone off the counter.

“Here.” He unlocked it and tapped the text app, holding it out. “See? I talked to mom this morning when she wished us good luck for the game. They landed safely and have the memorial tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Jules reached out and touched the screen, snuggling against Remus as he nodded. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah. Sorry I woke you up.”

“I’m glad you did,” Sirius said over his mug of cocoa. “It’s hard to deal with that alone.”

“Do you want to try to sleep, or should we stay up a little longer?” When Jules stayed silent, Remus wracked his memory for whatever he could remember about dealing with nightmares when they were kids. “We could put the Princess Bride on?”

Jules nodded and slid off the counter, cupping his mug tightly between his hands as the three of them padded into the living room. Hattie jumped on the couch and curled up on top of Jules’ feet with a low, contented rumble. Sirius set up the movie as Remus tucked a blanket around their legs, then joined them on the sofa as the opening credits began.

Fifteen minutes later, Jules was stretched across Remus’ lap with his head on Sirius’ thigh, snoring under his breath. Remus put his arms beneath his knees and shoulders and stood, walking slowly toward the stairs as Sirius turned the movie off and put their cups in the sink. He tucked Jules back in, placed a kiss on his forehead, and left the nightlight on just in case before going back to their bedroom. I was easy to fall asleep after that.

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

“Hello? Can you see us?” Remus set the phone up against the toaster.

His mother’s face broke into a wide smile. “There you are! Hi, boys!”

“Hi, mom!” Jules beamed at her, nearly bouncing right out of his chair.

“Where’s Sirius? I don’t see him anywhere.”

“Oh, I’m here.” He stepped into frame, waving shyly as he set the duster down. “Hello.”

“There you are, honey! I was afraid they’d chased you off already,” she teased, making all of them laugh. “How have you been? Has anything exciting happened? We miss you so much.”

“Things have been good,” Remus said, propping the phone up with a spare fork as it began to slide down. “We’ve had so much fun, right, buddy?”

“Yeah! I get to go to practice, and see the games, and we watched Jurassic Park—”

“Of course you did,” his father said with a playful eye roll.

“—and we’re hanging out with Leo and Logan and Finn this afternoon to play board games since practice is in the evening!”

Remus shared a look with Sirius, both of them stifling their laughter at his overwhelming enthusiasm for their weekly routine. “We’ve definitely been busy.”

“We’re so glad you’re having fun.” Lyall smiled. “Grandma Lillian sends her love. We all watched the game yesterday—great job, both of you!”

“Thanks, Dad,” Remus laughed. “Yeah, the season’s looking good.”

“Well, we don’t want to keep you too long,” Hope said. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you and we just wanted to check in. Re, keep sending us updates, and Jules, behave. Sirius, we’ll keep you in our thoughts and prayers.”

“I appreciate it,” Sirius said with a grin.

“Love you!” Lyall added as they waved goodbye.

“Love you, too!” Jules and Remus chorused. The screen went dark a few moments later.

[duskwood-by-daylight]

I'll Come Around

You finally decide to join the team, but it's hardly home. Luckily, you aren't the only one who has trouble sleeping. Part of the Breathe Mercy verse.

Warnings: maybe cursing, but I'm not even sure if that's one

Word count: 840ish

A/N: As always, 18+, minors DNI. Don't steal or copy or whatever. Feedback always appreciated. 

Riding in a cargo plane is already awkward enough, but listening to Nick Fury absolutely bless out one of the newest agents before takeoff is bound to make the ride even worse. Bucky kicks back on the bench next to Steve, letting his eyes fall closed. The mission was a success, but Bucky had to keep the idiot newbie from getting shot, basically leaving him to pull double duty as an assassin and babysitter. 

"Look, Bucky." Steve chuckles, holding up Natasha's phone. It's a picture of Y/N and Bruce, standing near a pyramid of boxes and totes, looking victorious. Bucky only glares and raises an eyebrow. "Pepper and Bruce are helping Y/N move in."

A new message appears beneath the photo: they keep goofing off. These two are worse than Tony, it's like wrangling cats.

"She's moving in… to the tower?"

"Yeah, she finally decided to join up. Didn't she tell you?"

"No." Bucky frowns, trying not to pout. He figured he would be one of the first people to know, since you consider him a friend. Or at least, he considers you one. 

"Have you checked your phone?" Natasha leans around Steve, shooting a knowing look at Bucky. 

"No." He scrambles, fishing the hated technology from his pocket. There he sees a missed call, a voice-mail, and four text messages, all from Dollface. He holds back his smile, feeling Steve's and Natasha's eyes on him. "Must've missed her." 

Nonchalantly, he lifts the phone to his ear, checking his voice-mail. "Hey Sarge, just wanted to let you know I finally decided to join the team. Nervous as all hell, but maybe it'll be okay. I know you're busy so stay safe. I'll be here when you come home." 

Home. Be here when you come home, the words roll across his mind and bring him a little warmth. 

"Careful, Buck, you keep twitching your cheeks like that and we might think you know how to smile." Natasha teases, seeing a slight blush rise in his face. 

"Oh, shut up."

By the time Bucky steps off the elevator, all he wants is to collapse face first into the nearest pillow and sleep for the next three months. He steps up to his door, hand frozen in midair when he hears familiar voices.

"You told me after a treatment or a long day, you have nightmares and disorientation. Is that still the case?"

"Sometimes." He recognizes your tone, behind the door across the hall. She moved in right across from me?

"Today you had both. As your doctor, I demand that you call me if you need anything, even if it's just to talk." The door pops open and Bruce steps out, "Hey, Bucky. Did you guys just make it back?"

"Couple hours ago. Fury had a debrief that went on forever. Apparently, a new agent thought disregarding orders was a smart idea. Hey, doll." Bucky spots you behind Bruce. "You get moved in okay?"

"Yeah, we finally got everything. Still needs a little love." You smile between him and Bruce, "mission go okay, Sarge?"

"Oh, aside from the idiot, it was great." 

After some idle chit chat, Bruce excuses himself and leaves the two of you at your respective doors. "Not gonna lie, I overheard you and Banner. I still have nightmares, too. My room is right across the hall from yours, sweets. You got my number. Don't hesitate to call if you need me."

Your heart flutters when he shoots you a tired wink. "Same goes for you, Sarge. You need anything, I'll be right over here."

The room is still full of boxes, packed and unpacked. You wind around them as you step out of your attached bathroom after finally getting to brush your teeth. Tonight is gonna be a long one. The bed calls to you but your mind is too busy, swirling with too many thoughts. Knowing sleep will elude you again, you make your way to the kitchen, stopping when you hear the TV in the lounge.

Bucky is sprawled on the couch, blankly watching an infomercial about a grill. He's wearing a plain t-shirt and dark gray pajama pants, a far cry from the tactical suits you've seen him in before. He looks comfortable and relaxed, which are not states you associate the 100 year old soldier with.

His eyes shift to you and his expression softens, pleased to see you, "Couldn't sleep, doll?"

"Having a hard time settling in, I guess. There's a lot of new things to adjust to here."

"Come join me." He pats the empty spot beside him. "I can't sleep either."

You take him up on the offer, "You seemed exhausted earlier. I thought you'd be out for days."

He pulls a throw from the back of the couch and spreads it over the two of you, handing you the remote. "Oh, I was there for a few hours, but it didn't last long. Do you always have trouble sleeping?" 

"Almost every night."

"A lot of times when I can't sleep, I end up out here, watching whatever is on TV. You're always welcome to join."

[waywardimpalawriter]

Book Boyfriend a Frankie Morales x Plus Size Reader fic Part two the final

Book Boyfriend

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Plus Size F! Reader

Characters: Frankie Morales, Reader, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, William “Ironhead” Miller, Ben “Benny” Miller, Isabella Morales (OC)

Setting: Two years after the events in Colombia (Triple Frontier)

Rating: R, NSFW

Warnings: Smut, Soft Frankie (yes that has to be a warning), cursing, teasing, unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), tooth rotting fluff, mixed with a little hurt/comfort, mention of abuse,

Word count: Part 1: 10,284, Part 2: 16,388 (sorry not sorry, I blame Frankie for the wordiness) 

Summary: You’ve been so engrossed in your currant book series its lead to Frankie feeling a little left out.  

Notes: This is my first Frankie Morales/Pedro Pascal Fic, so I’m hoping everyone loves it as much as I did writing it. Something a little fluffy I thought of while thinking of my own favorite book boyfriends. Using the translator Systran for my very bad Spanish translations. A grateful thank you to @icanbeyourjedi for helping me out with Frankie’s Dog tags.

Tag list: @manalg14​   @songbirdcannabe

From Part 1 

Finally, home from running errands and wrangling a very fussy Isabella though you couldn’t blame her really. Exhaustion setting into your very bones from running around town, stopping around noon at a play/girlfriend's date. Talking with the girls as the kids played, laughing over the latest things their men have done and the newest book in the series everyones reading. Heat flared to life at the memory of Frankie from this morning during your talk when things turned towards the more intimate. Though you’d refused to share the details just saying he’s better than any book boyfriend you’ve read. Getting teased by your friends up until the moment you left for the grocery store with a very sleepy little girl in your arms. 

Chuckling softly you put Isabella down for another longer nap so you could get the rest of the groceries in from the car. Pulling your cell out to dial Santi’s number putting the slim piece of tech between your shoulder and ear having forgot the buds in your purse. Not wanting to waste time on getting the steaks marinated for tonight, you decided a neck pain would be a better choice for now.  

Breathing a sigh when he picks up on the second ring, “What do I owe for this unexpected call?” smooth baritone filtering over the line making you smile. 

“I need a favor Pope.” 

Chuckling, “Finally came to your senses and dropped Fish for me huh, hermosa?” teasing quality to his voice, you picking up the sounds of water running in the background. 

Knowing he’s just playing with you though at one time you’d entertained the idea of asking Santiago out. You never got the nerve up instead one cold beer accidentally poured down your shirt later and here you were with the man of your dreams and his beautiful little girl who you’ve fell in love with. You still chuckle at how sweetly apologetic Frankie had been, cheeks stained red with embarrassment at having spilled his drink over you. Though in reality it almost hadn’t been an accident, as all three guys noticed the way he looked at you. Watching the sway of your generous hips to the music, glancing away when you scanned the bar. Never seeing your own eyes rest on him for longer than normal. Only to dart away and back to your friend on your left. 

They plotted, Will trying to talk Pope and Ben out of the stupid idea, but neither would listen, while Frankie took off to the bathroom. Coming back, he’d made a beeline for the bar to grab another mug of beer, taking up the spot right next to you. That’s when Benny tried to strike, sneaking up to Frankie’s left side looking to ask you out himself. Only to be beaten when you turn towards Frankie and he to you, a guy from behind barreling his way through the crowd and into your back. Pushing you forward and into the glass he held. Cold beer pouring down your front as a warm hand pressed against your thick waist to keep you from falling. Your eyes locked and from that moment on you’d been a goner. 

“Hello earth to Y/N you still with me woman? Or fantasizing about me,” knowing there’s a grin on his lips by the tone of his voice. 

Eyes rolling, as your hands work to finish seasoning the steaks, “Keep dream Pope maybe one day it’ll come true. Through I wouldn’t hold my breath,” snarky comment leaving your lips with a grin tugging the corners. “You busy tonight and tomorrow?” 

“Free as a bird, why you have something planned? Party? Or are you finally gonna ask Frankie to marry you?” the last question only a half joke knowing that the man in question wanted to ask that one himself. 

Gapping for a moment but finding the idea appealing, “Think he’d be okay with that if I did?” Of course, you’d thought about marrying Frankie. Hell for the last year you wanted to ask or at least hint at it. But not wanting to overstep any boundaries he set up for himself. Never brought up, though you’ve thought about it a few times. Finding yourself for the most part content having them both in your life.

“He’d die, but say yes so I think it’s a go,” smiling at the thought. You fit right in with the boys, giving hell just as much as you got. But most of all helping Frankie through his demons, not shying away when things got tough. Rather suiting up for battle with a determination he hadn’t seen in seasoned soldiers. Not to mention the way you took care of Isabella as if she’s your own daughter. “Remember I’m best man, Will and Benny bridesmaids I’m sure they’ll look good in whatever color you choose.” 

Giggling at that idea, “I’ll put them in hot pink dresses, halter tops to show off those muscles,” fully belly laugh roars from your lips at the very through of those two grown men in dresses. Santi’s gruff laughter only serves to spur yours on, making you grip the counter to keep from slipping to the floor in mirth. Sobering, grabbing the towel to dry your laughter tears away, “I’m gonna have to tell them you know that right Pope?” 

Snorting, “Of fucking course you would,” wiping his own mirthful tears away. “Anything else you needed to ask me hermosa and please I don’t do flower arrangements. Cake tasting I’m all for.”

Finished with the streaks, setting those aside to grab the potatoes to get them ready next while answering, “So noted but you might have to fight Benny on that one babe.” Pulling the aluminum foil out to wrap up the fork stuck potatoes, “That’s not why I called actually. I’m wondering if you could baby sit Isabella till tomorrow afternoon?” 

“That’s a no brainer of course I will, Uncle Santi to the rescue,” looking for the car seat and his keys. “I’ve got her bed set up and extra clothes.” 

“No junk food Pope or I’ll skin you alive when I see you tomorrow,” voice taking on a hard mama edge. Already having packed a small bag of items, knowing full well that Santi wouldn’t have them on hand. Nor did you expect the poor inexperience man to know what to feed a two almost three-year-old. “I’ve got her a goodie bag packed with what you’ll need and if anything happens…” 

“I’ll call Will and Ben, we’ll figure it out unless it’s an emergency,” placing his buds in to continue the conversation and setting to work on getting the new car seat in place. Double checking the instructions, he would never let anyone know he used, wanting to keep his goddaughter safe. The very idea of her getting hurt knocked the wind from his lungs. Shaking that thought aside, knowing you wouldn’t ask for this favor if you and Frankie didn’t trust him. “Better yet, we can three men and a baby it tonight.” 

“Oh, good Lord if my child comes back with a tattoo or piecing and drinking a Budweiser, I will have all three of your cocks mounted on my wall.” Trying to make your voice hard but wanting to bust out laughing again. Almost straining yourself from holding back the giggles.  

Fake gasp leaving his lips, “Have some taste woman it’ll be a tequila, if it's Bud blame Frick and Frack for that.” Catching the ‘your child’ comment makes him grin knowing his best friend and Goddaughter are in good hands. “Careful cariño your mama bear is showing.” 

“I’ll show you three mama bear when I’ve strung you up by your balls if there is one hair on my precious child’s head missing,” grinning, knowing that you love that little girl with all your heart. 

“Damn Y/N I didn’t know you were this blood thirsty or is it a cock and ball fascination? Bigger question does Fish know?” biting back the laughter bubbling up, triumphant look on his handsome face when he’s finished putting the car seat. 

Shaking your head small giggle leaving your lips, “Watch yourself Santiago Garcia or you’ll find out just what I keep in my purse.”  

“Now you have me intrigued. Thank packing heat in that monster bag of yours?” sliding into the driver seat phone call switching to the onboard Bluetooth. Plucking the earbuds out to stow them while driving. “When did Frankie teach you how to shoot?” 

Heat tingling your neck, as you sputter out an answer, “He actually didn’t teach me.” 

“What’d mean?” confused frown marring his handsome features as he stops at a red light. Hearing his phone ding for a text message from Frankie, deepening his confusion. “Does Fish know Isabella is staying with me tonight?” 

Thanking God for the last question, “No, I didn’t tell him just yet. It’s a surprise. Why?” 

“He’s texting me now, asking if I can watch Isabella I bet,” pulling into the nearest gas station to answer. “Shall I tell him?” smirking when he hears the low growl from the other end of the phone. “Take that as a no Bella.” 

“I swear on all that’s holy Santiago if you tell Frankie…” 

“Yes, yes you’ll have my dick nailed to the wall as a trophy,” rolling his eyes though you can’t. Light chuckle barely sounds when he reads what Frankie texted, “So, violent today Y/N.” 

Catfish: Necesita un hermano favorito? 

(Need a favorite brother?)

Pope: Nombrarlo 

(Name it.)

Not hearing anything for a moment, bottom lip trapped between your teeth standing in the kitchen worried your plan could fall apart. But trusted Santiago, “What’s he asking about Santi?” 

“Hasn’t yet, just chill Bella like I said he’s probably asking the same question.” Sure, enough the next text that comes in, has another chuckle leaving his lips. 

Catfish: Puedes cuidar hasta mañana? 

(Can you babysit till tomorrow?)

Pope: Lo que está en él para mí 

(What’s in it for me?)

Knowing Frankie’s groaning at his answer, Santi can’t help but tease his best friend. “I was right he’s asking the same thing you owe me five bucks.” 

“Fuck you Pope we didn’t make a bet,” rolling your eyes this time and breathing a sigh of relief. You set to work making the key lime pie for dessert, aiming to get everything ready before Frankie came home from work. Along with a shower and dressed in the new lingerie you bought a week ago. 

“Shame I could use the dollar bills,” shaking his head at the stupid code he and Frankie came up with for strip club. 

Chuckling, “Next time Pope I know the girls miss you raining them with those bills and sticking them in their G-string.” 

“How did…” eyes wide when the phone dinged with another text message. 

Catfish: Tiempo con tu ahijada y debía uno. Además, voy a preguntarle esta noche.

(Time with your goddaughter and owed one. Plus, I’m going to ask her tonight.) 

Forgetting all about how you knew what that code meant, Santiago let out the loudest yell of excitement. Gaining the attention of a few people pumping gas with ‘you crazy’ looks and also making you worry. 

“Pope what’s wrong? You, okay?” genuine fear lacing your tone, holding the phone tighter hand starting to shake. “You didn’t have an accident, did you? Don’t you dare ruin my plans for tonight Santiago Garcia.” 

Knowing the last threat means nothing, Santi tries to calm down not wanting to give away that he knows something about Frankie’s plan. “Yeah,” clearing his throat to hide the fact he’s lying. “Yeah, I’m good cariño just found out my team won,” hoping you don’t see through his lie. Something you’re almost scary good at.

Releasing the breath held trapped in your lungs relieved sigh pushed out along with the air. Heart broken if anything happened to him. In a relative short period of time all four men have situated themselves into your heart in different ways. The very idea of loosing them would shattered the strongest muscle in your body. The wise words of your favorite whiskey drinking Hunter comes to mind that family doesn’t end in blood.

“Don’t ever do that again Santiago or might just have to punish you in ways that won’t you won’t like,” leaning against the counter trying to calm your racing heart. 

“You wouldn’t cariño you love me too much,” grinning, leaning over to scoop up his cell phone from where it landed in his excitement to answer Frankie. 

Pope: Acerca de maldito tiempo hombre, sí, voy a cuidar a mi godhija esta noche para que usted y el pronto para ser esposa puede carajo ​toda la noche.

(About fucking time man, yes, I'm gonna take care of my goddaughter tonight so you and soon to be a wife can fuck all night.)

Chuckling, Pope places his cell phone on the cup holder and restarts the truck heading first towards Will and Benny’s place. Hearing the groan leave your throat followed by a quick ouch. “Now what’d you do?” hissing coming over the speakers in his truck making him worry this time. 

“Just nicked my finger is all Santi I’m not gusting blood or anything. Though I don’t recommend getting lime juice in the cut, hurts like a mother fucker.” Moving to the sink to clean the cut, just one more thing to put you behind in getting things ready. 

“Do you kiss Frankie with that mouth woman?” pulling into the drive giving a couple of blasts on the horn. 

“On the mouth and other places to Pope,” smirking at the disgusted sound leaving his lips. Bandaging your finger up to get back to work. Hearing a horn sound over the cell line, “You hear alright Pope? I heard you honk over the phone.” 

“Picking Will and Ben up then heading over to yours,” seeing the two brothers come out he puts the call on mute to speak with them. Rolling the window down to talk, “Suite up we got ourselves a mission.” 

Glancing between each other than back at Pope, “The hell you say man, the game’s on tonight, Ben and I were heading to the Roadhouse to watch and see how many times Benny get’s shot down.” 

“Fuck you Ironhead,” punching his brother’s arm, leaning on the mirror hearing your voice muttering something over the truck’s speakers. “Why you talking to Y/N?” 

“No thanks man you ain’t my type too many dangly bits for my taste,” snarking back landing his own punch to Ben’s shoulder.

Rolling his eyes, “Y/N called we got babysitting duty tonight, Frankie’s gonna pop the question but neither know of the other’s plans.” 

Loud cheers erupt from both men to the point Santi must bang on the side of the truck to get their attention to shut up. Having heard you ask something he goes to unmute, “What did you say Y/N I couldn’t make it out over Frick and Frack’s noises assholes selves.” 

Huffing, “I asked if one of you could start a fire for me, Frankie gets weird if he knows I did it myself.” 

“That’s cause last time you tried you almost burned the house down woman,” Pope snarked pushing Benny away 

Coming back, hitting Pope in the chest, “Of course, gorgeous we’ll take care of that for you,” Benny chimes in leaning into the window so you can hear him.  

“Down boy, or you won’t get a slice of the pie I’m making,” chuckling you put the phone down long enough to put said pie in the oven and slam the door making you jump a little. 

Playfully putting his hand to his chest, “Marry me Y/N, Frankie doesn’t deserve you.” 

Both Pope and Will snort at that, but it’s your sweet voice that answers with, “Sorry sweetheart I’m spoken for by a sweet little girl who you’ll babysit tonight and one handsome flyboy that does some very wicked things with his hands.”

Groaning, “Don’t give us any visions please I’ll need bleach to get Fish’s naked ass outta my head,” shaking to get the images out. Laying his forehead on his arms while leaning against the truck trying to rub that idea out of his mind, having come to love you like a sister. Will didn’t want to know anything about your sex life. 

“Aww what’s the matter William you didn’t see enough of it while bunking together on tour?” teasing tone to your voice plopping down in a chair to wait on the pie. “What time will you three Stooges get here?” 

Shrugging, “Twenty or thirty minutes give or take, depends on how long it takes the blond wonder twins to pack a go bag.” Santi answers getting murders looks from both men. 

“Make sure you ask them their measurements Santi,” biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing harder. “Let them know pink won’t clash with their skin tone.” 

The looks only intensify combined with a confusion at your words, “Thanks Annie Oakley.” Groaning head dropping to the steering wheel. “Which reminds me you’ll have to tell us the story of how you learned to use a gun. See ya in a few,” hanging up before you can say anything else and dig his hole deeper. 

“What exactly did she mean by measurements?” crossing his arms over muscular chest, glaring at Pope. 

Resting an arm on his brother’s shoulder, “And pink? Really, I’m more of a coral,” trying to keep from chuckling while giving Pope his own glare. Benny realizing what he’d said at the end and tries to cover with adding, “When did Y/N learn to shoot, better yet where’d she get the gun?”  

Shrugging, “Just found out today, gonna ask when we get there.” Knowing you can handle yourself more concerned that you’ve learned the correct way to handle a gun. Never wanting you to actually have a need to shoot but incase Santiago wants to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself. Especially if Frankie didn’t show you or know. His mind rewinding to the fact, “Coral? What the fuck dude? How the hell do you even know what that is?” 

Dying of laughter, Benny turns giving both of them the middle finger salute heading back into the house to grab both his and Will’s go bags. As promised Pope pulled into the driveway thirty minutes later, all three exist, not even bothering to knock just walking right in. Fresh baked goodies and coffee brewing meeting their noses, along with a squeal of excitement from a little blur of yellow and blue. 

“Ukcl Po,” flinging herself into his arms, as he’s crouched down to scoop her up unconcerned with his knees popping, spinning around to her delighted peels of laugher. 

Hugging her close, seeing you come around the corner with an arm load of firewood bright smile on your lips. “Good y’all finally showed up thought I’d have to start the fire myself,” joking tone. Using your elbow to wave them in. 

Will passes Pope and Isabella pausing to ruffle her hair, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead then going over to take the arm load from you. Making you roll your eyes reluctantly giving it over when he gives you that stern look. 

“I’m not helpless you know I can move a couple of pieces,” tossing your hands up, smacking Will’s shoulder as he passes. 

Shaking his head, “And have Frankie put us on freeze for letting his woman get hurt. Nope, no thank you ma’am I happen to like having certain body parts stay in respective places.” 

“It’s not Fish you have to worry about rearranging parts Ironhead its Y/N,” bouncing Isabella in his arms smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ain’t that right Annie Oakley?” grin widening when you turn to scowl at Pope. 

“Careful Santi or you’ll wearing the pink dress,” crossing your arms to glare at both men, as Benny chuckles beside Pope. In between making faces at Isabella, her giggles making beautiful music. 

Rejoining the group after dusting his hands on his jean clad thighs, “Anything else you need done Y/N?” scenting the air a small growl leaving Will’s stomach. 

“You got a bear in there William?” taking Isabella from Pope to put her on your hip while walking back to the kitchen and check on the potatoes. 

Low whistle leaving all three men making heat race up your neck a small squirm moves over your body when they see everything you’ve got planned out for tonight. Steaks siting out ready for the grill along with the corn on the cob, salad finished and chilling in the fridge, and the pie cooling. Out of the corner of your eye you spy Benny going towards the pie. Quickly spinning making Isabella giggle to land a hard smack to his hand. He pulls back quickly puppy eyes in place and howls of laughter from the other two men. 

“Ben Miller how dare you try to stick a finger in my pie,” scowl firmly in place, Isabella matching the look or at least trying to its more adorable than anything. 

Unlike yours which is truly scary and has Ben raising his hands in surrender. “You sure you weren’t in the military gorgeous that look alone would’ve made plenty green recruits wet themselves,” backing up when you go to smack his shoulder.    

“Shame none of you will get a slice now,” placing Isabella in the highchair feeling a rush of air pass you by. Looking up to see all three sitting at the table with pleading looks on their faces. Shaking your head smile sliding over your lips, “You three are the worse right Bella baby?” 

“Ight mama,” nodding her head quickly, clapping her hands in excitement. 

To which Ben leans over to tickle her sides making her squeal even louder. Will and Pope both making silly faces none of them noticing when you pull your cell phone out to take a short video. Sending it to Frankie with the simple words “Our family”. Soft smile gracing your features watching them interact. Your heart expanding in love but also hurting. Wishing, not for the first time, that your own mom and siblings where here. 

“Hey,” calling from his spot. Having looked away so Santi wouldn’t see your eyes, turning to pull plates from the cabinet missing the frown turning down his lips.  Raising to go over, “You, okay?” 

Wanting Frankie there to chase away these thoughts you’ve tried to keep buried. You nod not trusting your voice right then to answer with words. Hating how your mood so quickly shifted spoiling the moment. 

Placing a hand on your shoulder to turn and have you face him, “You know you can tell us, me anything Y/N, we’re your family and family takes care of one another.” 

Taking a deep breath wringing your hands in front of you, knowing he’s right. Seeing for yourself the genuine concern in those deep brown pools. “My thoughts went to having my blood family here, my mom,” turning to look at Isabella, “she would’ve loved her so much.” Glancing up to see both Will and Benny giving you reassuring smiles that accompany nods of affirmation having heard Santiago’s words about family.

“Blood doesn’t always make family sweetheart standing by someone through thick and thin, never giving up, letting them into your heart that’s what makes a family.” Taking Isabella’s little hand in his, Ben looks at you his words making you tear up but this time in a good way. Eyes lingering on the youngest Miller for a bit longer. 

Seeing your tears, “I’d cry to if I looked at Benny’s ugly mug, got a face only a mother could love,” trying to lighten the mood. Hearty laughter filling the kitchen when you toss a balled-up towel at Will’s head. Landing perfectly over his face getting high pitched giggles from Isabella.     

“Thank you,” sincerity laced through you tone giving both Miller boys a smile once the towel is off Will’s face. Turning back to Pope to pat his chest, giving him the same smile. “Grab the coffee for me Santi please, looks like I’ve got a pie to cut into.” 

With a two-finger sloppy salute and a kiss to your cheek, Santi grabs the glass coffee pot from the maker, sugar and cream sitting nearby. “Anytime cariño, anytime.” 

Each with their hands full come to the table setting various items down, coffee poured, and pie sliced out with a heavy dollop of Reddi-whip atop. Moans of pleasure leave all three men, along with compliments and praise for your baking skills. Benny proposing once again which you turn down of course. Everyone tucking in after that first bite including Isabella who has more cream on her cheeks, chin, nose and shirt than her mouth. Her babbling on about different things while enjoying her pie. Brought a warmth to your heart, a rightness you hadn’t felt in your life till now. 

Reaching over to wipe off her face, the smile gracing your lips made all three men grin. Santi pulls his phone out to take a couple of pictures to send to Frankie later, knowing he’d want to see them. Hearing the tale tell sound of a camera going off makes your head whip around. 

Hating to have your picture taken when it’s needed, “Really I look like shit Santi and you’re taking pictures?” though you try to be mad at him, you fail knowing he’s doing it for Frankie. 

“Shit…” little voice states making all four grownups turn to look at her, eyes wide before busting out laughing. 

“You’re fault mama bear, I can’t wait till I tell Fish,” gripping the table to keep from falling from his chair laughing, fist banging the hard wood making the plates and forks jump around. 

Face going into your hands to hide your embarrassment from the boys, all of whom can’t stop the gruff laughter from bubbling up in their chests. Worried, Isabella reaches out with a pie covered hand to touch your arm. “Oh, ta mama?” sticky fingers patting quickly. 

Looking over at her you reach to taking her face in your hands, smile breaking through the embarrassment, to kiss her forehead. “I’m okay baby girl, your uncles are just evil is all,” giving her a wink that makes another peel of laughter leave her lips. Turing to Pope, “I may have to make good on that threat to hurt you by shooting you.” 

Still laughing, Santi shakes his head never feeling more at home or free than when he’s surround by his family. Eyes crinkling, he sends a wink to Isabella before fixing his eyes on you. “Speaking of which you never told me who taught you.” 

“Must you know all my secrets Pope?” teasing light entering your eyes that fixed on the man. With a heavy fake sigh, seeing the concern under the mirth, you answer. “My brother actually taught me years ago. Frankie took me to the range for practice a couple of times but we ah,” looking at Isabella she covers the little girl’s ears. “We got banned from the place,” giving them a shrug noticing the way all three were giving you a weird look. “Who knew Frankie like’s a woman who could handle a gun. He got handsy and one thing led to another…” smirk sliding over your lips. 

“Stop, stop, stop I beg you,” from Will.

Waving his hands before covering his ears, humming “It’s the end of the world as we know it” trying to get what he just heard from his head. “That’s so wrong,” from Benny. 

Santiago didn’t look to fazed just a grin on his lips, “That’s Frankie for ya. Should ah known he’s kinky as fu…” 

Whipping around to smack Pope before he can finish that word, “Language Garcia.” 

“Hey, you said a bad word,” winking at Isabella who clapped her pie covered hands at her uncle Pope. “How good a shot are you?” 

Snorting, “Not nearly what Frankie can do but I managed to land a few head and chest shots before it got a little too hot and bothered.” Laughing when all three groan while you rise to pick Isabella up, “Fire please boys and light the grill too while I get baby girl here cleaned up and ready.” 

“As long as you stop talking about yours and Fish’s sex life, I’ll do anything you ask,” Benny begs standing, grabbing the empty plates and mugs. Trying to push the thoughts running through his mind on film reel. 

 Pausing by the kitchen door leading towards the bedrooms, “Careful Ben I might have to take you up on that one. There’s gutters needing cleaned and a garage plus the house needs repainting,” giving him a mischievous smirk at his groan. Pausing to place a chase kiss to his stubbled cheek in thanks for cleaning up. 

“If anyone is evil it’s you woman, go,” waving his free hand at you. “Get our little princess cleaned up we’ll handle this,” heading to the sink to wash dishes. Will heading to the living room to start the fire and Pope out the back door to get the grill going for you. 

Standing there a moment tears pricking the back of your eyes, “Our family little one.” Heading then to her bedroom to change and clean the sticky pie from her hands and face. Coming back out ten minutes later a sugar high little girl running ahead of you and into Will. Who scoops her up holding her against his chest.  

“Y’all might be in for it tonight with sugar baby there,” giving them an apologetic look, handing off Isabella’s backpack filled with cloths and the reusable grocery bag with food to Ben. Giving him a tight hug first, moving to Pope before ending with Will and Isabella giving your little girl a kiss on the forehead. “No, tattoo’s or piercings,” jokingly said a hitch in your voice at seeing her go. 

It's the first time she’ll sleep somewhere that’s not her room it makes your chest tighten in worry. Though you know good well that all three men would protect her with their lives. 

Slinging an arm around your shoulder as you all walk outside, “Don’t worry Y/N we got this have a good time tonight and know that Isa is taken care of.” 

“Three men and a baby huh?” recalling Pope’s earlier comment. “My only question? Which one of you is Tom Selleck?” trying to shake the nerves, using jokes to set everyone including yourself at ease. 

“Who and what are you talking about?” Benny chimed in opening the back door of the truck to place Isabella in her car seat. 

“Guttenberg,” saying the same thing together, you and Pope laugh wrapping an arm around your shoulders for a half hug placing a kiss to your temple. “You’re too young to remember plus it’s chick flick,” quickly moving away from your pinching fingers. 

“They’ve finally cracked, I don’t know what did it but they’ve cracked I tell ya,” Ben playfully mourned only to have Will slam the door almost in his face. 

 “Guess that leaves you as Selleck and me Danson,” Will snarks with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s get this jalopy rollin the Roadhouse waits.” 

“Don’t you even,” giving him a dirty look to which Will just grins, closing the door before you can throw anything at him. “Keep those two in line please Santi.” 

Chuckling, “Don’t worry cariño, princesa is in good hands,” stepping away Pope turns to give you one last wave. “See you tomorrow sometime, just ah let us know when you’re done fuckin don’t want to bring Isa back too soon.” Ducking the mound of dirt you toss at him with a smile on his devilishly handsome face. 

With a wave, you watch them go sigh leaving your lips feeling a little lost without Isabella around. Pocket vibrating breaks you from those thoughts, the guitar solo at the beginning of Angel by Aerosmith starts to play making you smile. Frankie asked you when you made it his ringtone why you picked a song that’s more suited for your ringtone. Shaking your head arms wrapped around his neck explaining that he’s your angel who saved you from yourself. Showing you that despite your size, the past you had you’re worth loving worth cherishing. It took a while for you to actually believe him but once you did, having Frankie Morales as your angel did wonders for your confidence and self-love.

“Hello, my angel,” answering while heading back too inside to get the steaks on the grill and check on the fireplace.   

Leaning against the metal outside wall, one leg bend to press into the builds side, “I think you have that backwards hermosa.” Deep chuckle sounding from his lips, making you shiver despite the warmth of the house. “Pope come get our little one?” 

A shiver of pleasure runs down your body at the sound of his voice, smile blooming widely. “Nope flyboy, my angel happens to actually have metal wings,” giggling leaning against the counter for a moment. “He did, enlisted the help of Benny and Will for the night too,” checking the clock to see you have just enough time to get the steaks and corn grilled along with a quick shower. “Can I expect you at the normal time?” hoping that his asshole boss wouldn’t keep Frankie any longer than a few minutes. 

Bent knee shaking to a beat that’s none existent. His nerves shouldn’t eat at him but the small velvet box rattling around in his pocket gets heavier by the moment. Pulling it out to flip the top still a little unsure if you’ll truly like it. Sunlight caught the round cut chocolate diamond, simply done in rose gold with two trellis of white diamonds cascade down either side. Having bought the ring months back, paying it off a little at a time. Getting lucky by sneaking one of your much-loved rings out to get it sized and back before you noticed it missing. Even hint asking to find out what kind of gems you preferred. Surprised when you tell him about the chocolate diamond. Finding the beautiful stone on a birthday present run with your best friend to the local jewelry store. One that almost matched his eyes and reminded you of him. Soft blush dusted his cheeks at your words that night when you explained tucking away that tidbit of information for later. 

As later came, he went to that very jeweler finding the perfect ring he hoped you’ll love. Above that he prays you’ll say yes to being his wife and mother to his daughter. The very thought of you saying no constricts his heart in a vise grip. One he’s sure will squeeze the organ till there’s nothing left but a hole where you once resided. 

“Frankie?” frowning when no answer comes from the other side of the line. “Everything all right flyboy?” 

Clearing his throat and closing the ring box to stow it back in his pants pocket, “Yes, mi amor everything’s perfect. Sam time as usual, since all the work’s completed there’s just clean up and inventory left.” 

“Don’t be too long baby I’ll have dinner waiting for us, I’ve got a date after all,” teasing tone that’s touched by humor. Knowing you could take this one of two ways and deciding on the provoking one. “My book boyfriend is lonely without me.” 

Groaning, shaking his head and readjusting the cap covering his hair, “Woman you’re teasing again remember what happened this morning when you tormented me. The promise I made you?” Licking his lips at the very thought, “I’m getting my dessert tonight and making you scream my name for everyone to hear.” 

“Promises, promises flyboy I think you’re all talk and no action,” knowing you shouldn’t be teasing him but couldn’t help yourself. Especially when that sexy growl vibrates over the phone making you weak kneed. 

Smiling, Frankie pushes away from the wall needing to get back to work so he could get home to you. “No promise sweetheart just facts,” hating to hang up. “I’ve gotta go mi amor, see you tonight, I love you.” 

“I love you to Frankie, I’ll see you tonight. Now go finish work there’s a present waiting for you when you get home.” Biting your bottom lip, insecurities rising like bile in that back of your throat. Hope and fear warring in your mind after hanging up with Frankie.   

Trying not to dwell on those thoughts while getting the steaks and corn cooked. Once finished you add them to the oven along side the potatoes on warm. Stopping in the living room to check the fireplace and arrange the blankets laying them out for maximum comfort. Heading to the shower to clean up quickly. 

Thirty minutes later, body lotions, hair dry and lingerie in place, putting his camo robe over. You check for what felt like the hundredth time the clock on the wall. Seconds ticking by till Frankie comes home and you’re desperately trying to choose a spot for him to find you in. Laying first by the fire but figuring that didn’t look right. Choosing next to lean against the entrance wall just shy of the door, shaking that idea off as it could expose you to anyone walking down the side walk. The kitchen popped up just causally draped over a chair or the counter. Sighing in frustration when none of the places look right. Till that proverbial lightbulb goes off and your grabbing the book you’ve read for the last couple of nights. Laying on the couch, one leg bent at the knee to show off your bare legs, robe open just enough to display a touch of cleavage and the book open but you’re not really reading. 

Listening for the moment you hear the key slide home into lock, door opening, “Y/N, hermosa where you hiding?” Voice deep and soothing to your nerves a smile tugging your lips upward at the frustrated growl that reverberates from his chest. 

Itching to raise up, show yourself to him but the imp side has you staying in place on display for him. Catching the sound of boots toed off, keys dropped in the little ceramic bowel. Tracking his sock covered footsteps guessing he’s peeked into the kitchen when a soft groan meets your ears. Letting you know his nose took in the smell of dinner. Bottom lip caught between your teeth again patience wearing thin as excitement courses through your veins. Bare foot dancing to the tune of nerves as you peek over to see Frankie’s shadow in the kitchen. Hearing the oven open then close smirk sliding over your lips as another rumble of a groan sounds. 

Soft giggles touch his ears, strong legs eat the distance from the kitchen into the living room. Seeing the fireplace alight, “Please tell me you didn’t…” train of thought crashing when his eyes drop to see you laid out so beautifully for him. Pink tongue coming out to wet his lips, chocolate pools darkening, the twitching in his jeans making itself known. 

Growing even more pronounced with the slow trek your eyes take. Starting at his waist, couch hiding anything lower from your view, licking your lips to trap the bottom one between your teeth. Seemingly a permanent home for the abused lip. Trailing over his shirt covered chest, thick tanned neck that your wanting to nibble. Over his strong jaw and patchy beard, smirk in place when you see his lips parted in shock. Though a part of you worried it’s more because of how little you’re wearing, baring your thick, curvy body to his eyes. However, those thoughts died a very painful death as heat slips into its place with how he’s truly looking at you. 

Unable to keep the gasp from leaving your lips with how desire darken his eyes have become, the crinkling of leather meeting your ears. Making your eyes drop to the callused hands gripping the back of the couch so tightly, knuckles white with the tension and you wonder for a moment if it’ll be ripping soon. Returning your eyes to his, making sure he’s still watching when you return to reading that same paragraph you’ve tried to finish for the last twenty minutes. Loud growl is the only warning you get before the paper bound volume in your hands is ripped away and tossed over his shoulder. 

“Frankie,” trying to infuse a little bit of anger into your cadence. But to your own ears it just sounds breathless and needy. Swallowing hard you rise knowing the robe is opened more baring your black lace covered breasts to his gaze. Going to stand but a hand on your shoulder stops you, sliding down to your arm and tugging you to turn. Kneeling into the couch, the only thing between you both except clothing of course. “Dinner’s ready.” 

Still staring at you, drinking in the sight of your body half exposed to his eyes. Chest raising quickly with every breath you take, the soft smile on your lips that you lick and make him groan. “I don’t want dinner mi amor,” placing hands on either shoulder to push the robe from your body. 

Pooling at your waist the knot still holds fast, “Oh than what do you want mi Rey?” 

“You,” simple word never held so much need and want packed into one syllabi, eyes held to yours. Palms sliding over your skin, talented fingers brush under the lace strap perched on your shoulder. Drawing it down to rest on your bicep, breath hitching when he leans in to place a kiss to where it previously resided. 

Hands going to cup the back of his neck, toying with the short curls under the baseball cap. Head lulling to the side, giving him access to the sensitive skin of your neck. Taking advantage and rubbing his lips over the soft skin. Bearded cheek tickling, making your squirm wanting to pull away but also enjoying the slight burn. One arm stay’s at his neck while the other moves between your bodies giving a little push to his chest. Making another growl vibrate through his body and into yours. Arms coming around your waist to pull you even closer. Teeth ghosting that little spot just under your ear he knows will make you weak. Placing his lips right there to suck a mark while his hands drop to palm your ass and squeeze. A touch of frustration sings through his veins at not having you pressed against his body fully. 

Trying to gather your scattered wits, body thumping with a desperate need, “Frankie,” short whine leaving a dry throat, you try to push him back once more. Not really wanting him to move but the position your both in is only making things difficult. 

“Want me to stop?” Breathing the words into your ear, warm air making a shiver race down your spine. 

Whimpering, “No, but I’d much rather want you closer and not this couch between us.” Loosening his grip on your body, you reluctantly pull back grabbing his ball cap along the way. Soft giggle leaving your lips as you dart out of the reach of his hands. Almost slipping from the couch backwards, managing to catch yourself and get up while placing the cap on your head. Eyeing Frankie as he stands where you left him though leaning forward, as if to jump over the couch to get to you. 

Swallowing hard, heat rising over your skin in the best of ways with how he’s staring at you. An idea pops into your head, fingers going to the knot at your waist. His eyes following the path pausing for a moment to take in your heaving chest, nipples pebbled tight beneath the lace. Licking his lips at the sight before trailing lower to watch with held breath. While nimble fingers untie the knot, letting the Terry cloth fall to pool at your bare feel. Hands itching to wrap around your nearly naked form. To hide from those slowly tracing eyes. 

That make there way back up to your face, hunger, desire, love all warring deeply in those swirling dark chocolate eyes. “Hermosa esposa,” (Beautiful wife.) words spoken almost reverently. Drinking in the sight of your body, wrapped in sheer black lace that hides nothing from his eyes, wearing his much loved ball cap.  Only served to have a streak of possessiveness dance across his mind. Bottom lip caught between his teeth eyes watching caught in the trance that is your beauty with every step you take. 

Swallowing, your feet having a mind of there own as they make the short trek around the couch to stop just shy of reaching him. “Like what you see Frankie?” Worrying your bottom lip, nerves have you fidgeting under the intense stare. Keeping your hands at your sides first then clasping them behind your back. The action pushing your chest out which draws his attention, trying to keep himself from drooling. 

Knowing you’ve said something, asked him a question but his brain doesn’t fire off any response. Instead he steps forward, brushing his fingers over your collarbone, touch light as those deliciously callused digits ghost the skin of your shoulders and down your arms. Wrapping strong limbs around your thick waist to haul you against his strong frame. Gasp leaves your lips that he takes advantage of and swoops in for a kiss that’s anything but delicate. 

Fierce and demanding, pressing his mouth to yours leading with his tongue that goes in to taste and mate with yours. Toying with the muscle before sucking harshly, tasting coffee, something sweet and a flavor that’s all your own. Pulling a moan from deep within your chest that bubbles up at the same time your arms wrap around Frankie’s neck. Pulling him closer wanting to merge the two of you together. His strong body pressing you into the couch, wondering for a moment when you turned, but not caring. As his kiss stole all thought and reason from your mind, turning you to mush in his arms. 

Air becoming a needed commodity making the two of you break apart gasping and resting your foreheads together. “Cariño you can’t wear things like this when I come home.” Pulling back just a little only too groan at the innocently sexy expression in your eyes. 

“Surprise,” tugging at the curls getting a low grunt from the man wrapped around you. “So next time you rather I’m naked spread out on the kitchen table?” Teasingly running your hands up and down his back. Stopping to slide both hands in the back pockets of his jeans, cupping his ass to bring him against your pelvis. 

“Mierda,” head dropping to your shoulder, the bite of the zipper against his cock making him hiss. Needing inside you wanting to make you sing his name for everyone to hear. Panting for breath, “The guys find out about that and they will never eat at the table again.” 

Soft giggles brush his ear, turning your head to press your lips to the shell, “You did say I was your dessert.” 

“I did, didn’t I,” wicked smirk sliding over his lush lips, wrapping one of your legs around his waist to rock against your soaked panty covered folds. Letting you feel how hard you’ve made him, the throb of his shaft beating a rhythm only you can dance too. 

Head tossing back at the feeling, you use that leg to pull him impossibly closer rocking your hips slowly. Lips pressed against his neck, flicking your tongue out to taste the sweat tinged musky skin. Hands moving to his shoulders under the fabric of the red and black plaid to push it from his body down his arms and adding it to the growing pile. Tracing little patterns over his chest soft smirk in place when your fingers brush over his nipples making him hiss at the contact. Lower to the hem of his beige t-shirt clinging to his skin, sliding your fingers under the fabric to tease the warm flesh. 

“I’m your surprise baby, you’re in charge of where this goes,” low growl leaves his lips at your words, making your head spin in desire. That floods your panties with slick and a need to have the man standing in front of you. 

Hands start to dance up his chest, when he bends cupping your ass with both hands and hauling you against his body tighter. Looking over your shoulder to see blankets spread out over the floor in front of the roaring fireplace. “That for us sweetheart?” You nod as he trails one hand around to slide between your thighs and over the soaked gusset of your panties sliding two fingers under the edge and over your puffy swollen lips. “This all because of me?” 

 “You’re to smug Morales,” bitting your bottom lip to keep from moaning. Hips however have a mind of their own as they rock over his questing fingers. “You know that book boyfriend is kinda talented…” rest of the sentence swallowed by the moan exited from your throat. Dropping your forehead to his shoulder a shutter racking your frame with the teasing slide of those thick work calluses fingers through your soaked folds. 

Circling your clit with the tips to give a jolting pinch at the mention of your ‘other’ boyfriend. “Seems I have some competition,” dark chuckle leaving his throat at the same time a whimper leaves yours when he pulls his fingers free to suck clean. Helping you place the leg from his waist to the floor before taking you over to the fireplace. 

Shivers skate across your body at the deep cadence of his tone, the dark promise of what he’s got planned making slick flood your core and drip down your quivering thighs. Fascinated by how deep his chocolate browns have become while staring into those beloved eyes.  

Soft gasp pulled from the back of your throat with his hand upping your cheek, brushing his fingers over the soft skin, free arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. “When did you get this little number? Better yet why didn’t you take me with you while picking it out?” Dropping his head to the crook of your neck nose brushing over your skin, drawing in the jasmine scent that’s burned into his memory as yours alone. Making his cock throb dangerously. 

Swallowing harshly, “A few weeks ago,” head lulling to the side to give him access. Your own hands returning to that patch of skin just under his shirt. Short nails leaving little tracks over his flesh, marking him as yours. “I ordered it online, first time I’ve worn it other than trying on.” 

“Next time I’m gonna be there to watch you try things on,” nibbling kisses dot your neck and shoulder. His path haphazardly moving to the hollow of your throat, biting down on the sensitive skin and leaving his own purpling mark behind. Sweet moans leave you lips a shiver of arousal pours through your veins at the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to. 

“I’d never get anything tried on if your there flyboy,” nickname rolling off your tongue, brushing your hands higher dragging the shirt with wanting it off. Tracing little patterns with your fingers to brush over both nipples. Making another sharp hiss leave his lips that rest against your collarbone. Breath fanning out hot and moist over your body trying to focus on giving you pleasure. Yet  with each brush of those skillful hands he finds himself getting weaker to your advances. Desperately needing inside you, all those lovely noises you make music to his ears. Taking advantage of the moment you pull back to tug his shirt off tossing it somewhere behind you. Pausing to admire the man who’s captured your heart. Drinking in the sight of his tanned skin, soft yet muscular body gleaming in the firelight. 

You’re truly in awe of this man and so caught up tracing each piece of him you don’t realize he’s stepped closer till warm hands grip your waist. Inching the sheer lace up your body till he gets a peek at the lacy black matching cheeky panties your wearing. Hands gliding around to cup your ass, giving you a hard squeeze, drawing another moan from your lips. Eyes sliding closed as your body sways to lean against him. “Your right cariño you wouldn’t because you don’t need these lacy clothes to tease me. Your mire present does that. You make me rock hard and all you have to do is whisper my name.” Voice taking on an octave lower, filled with a longing and love for you alone. 

“Frankie,” voice low, filled with a deep arousal you try to contain, his words making your heart flutter with love. Knees weakening to the point your sagging against him. Wanting to state the fact he’s got the same power over you. Voice like silk over your skin, making butterflies flutter in your tummy, tingles dance through your body and heat pools low, dampening your panties. “That damn voice.” 

Dark chuckle leaves his lips, hands coming back to bunch the lace in his fists to pull it from your body, joining his shirt. He takes one step back to return the admiration of your body. Fire light dancing off the dips and valleys, highlighting the stiff peaks of your nipples begging for his mouth to worship the soft swells of your breasts and tummy.  How your shyly try to turn away but stay still at the same time. The down turn of your chin however makes a frown appear and a dangerous growl leave his chest. 

Reaching out two fingers to grip your chin raising it and making you look into his eyes. “Beautiful mi amor, you’re stunning, never think you have to hide your body from me,” letting go of your chin to trace a path down your cheek, between the valley of your breasts and around your waist. Pulling you flush against him, feeling his rough body hairs brushing against your softer skin. The satisfaction of having him pressed so intimately soothes all the nerves and dark thoughts making them run squealing back to where they came from. The affirmation of his words through his touch sets your blood on fire with a need to please him. To show him how thankful to have him in your life rises like a tidal wave. 

Cresting the moment you lean in starting to place kisses along his jawline, searching for every spot that draws a moan from his lips. However, Frankie doesn’t let you get very far instead he pulls you back, helping you to sit on the pallet of blankets before the fire. On his knees, he takes the cap from your head placing it on the coffee table behind him. Cupping your cheeks between his large hands, watching you watch him. To lean in for a kiss that’s so achingly tender it has a shiver running over your body that’s got nothing to do with being cold. Arms going around his neck to pull him against you. Teasing the tip of his tongue against the seam of your lips that you open on a sigh. 

Taking that moment to slip his tongue into the warm cavern of your mouth. Tangling your tongues together as your noses brush and angle trying to find the right place to draw in air without having to break apart. When he does your bottom lip becomes caught between his teeth, nibbling the delicate skin, gathering air to dive back in. This time it’s deeper, demanding those little moans from you. He’s rewarded with one that’s dragged from the depths of your soul making a smile tug at the edges against his lips. 

Both gasping for breath, clinging to each other, he noses your chin, running his lips over the delicate skin searching out your mouth again. Drunk on your kisses, the feeling of your hands fisting in his hair, clutching him closer. “Lay back for me hermosa,” opening his eyes to stare at you. Seeing the indecision war with the need to give instead of receive. “You said I’m in charge tonight right?” Nodding not trusting your voice to anything other than totally wrecked right now. “Use your words mi alma.” 

“Yes,” swallowing thickly seeing the desire darkened chocolate eyes bore into your own. A shiver skating across your body at the promise those beloved eyes held. “Yes, I did my love, but you don’t…” he doesn’t let you finish that thought. 

Instead pressing his lips back against yours unhurried. Taking slow sips from your mouth, nibbling your lips, dipping into the warm cavern for little tastes. Making whimpers of need push from your chest as you rub your thighs together for some kind of friction. Warm work roughen hands cup your breasts, giving the soft globes a gentle squeeze. His thumbs circle the peeking nipples before trapping it between it and the index finger. Giving a hard pinch that’s just this side of pleasurable pain. The little tug  going straight to your core, knowing you love how he’s playing you body. Making your back arch against his hand a mewl of need leaving your lips. 

Abandoning your mouth to trail nibbling kisses across your jawline, “I want to mi amor, you’re a goddess and I’m here to worship at your temple.” Breath falling over your neck as those words have a shiver running down your body. Heating the skin, heart thumping behind your rib cage he traces with those wicked fingertips. 

Moving between your legs, rough blue jean fabric abrading the inside of your thighs as he hovers over you. Watching with passion filled eyes, tongue coming out to wet those kiss swollen lips you know you’ll never get enough of. Arms go to wrap around his neck to pull him down to you, but he shakes his head taking both wrists in one of his large hands to place them above your head. 

“Leave them right there sweetheart because if you touch me now I won’t get to taste you,” desperation laces his voice making the cadence drop an octave and drawing a shuttering breath from your lungs. 

Never have you seen this look in those beloved eyes as the one right now, pinning you to the blanket covered floor. Body squirming under that dark gaze, thighs rubbing as fresh slick coats your already drenched panties. “Please,” back arching to press your chest into his hands, desperate to have him in some kind of way. Not above begging to get what you want either, “Frankie I need you,” words coming out on a needy whimper. 

“Patience mi amor I’m a starving man who’s just discovered his favorite dessert,” lips tipped up in a smirk. Resuming his path over your skin. Leaving goosebumps in his wake of teeth nibbling your flesh, sucking kisses placed in spots he knows only serve to make you moan and sigh. His name a whimpered plea from your bitten lips. 

Till reaching the mounds of your breasts, taking one taut nipple between his lips. Sucking sharply and receiving a keening moan that surges straight to his cock. The throbbing pulse robbing a grunt from his chest though he tries to stay unaffected. Your breathy gasps and mewling whimpers start to drive him crazy with passion. Switching to the neglected breast while tugging with his fingers on the abandoned one. Tip of his tongue flicking over the peeked nipple before biting down at the same time his fingers tug the twin. Remembering how sensitive your breasts are and playing them like a skilled master. 

His teasing pulls another shuttering breath from your lungs, sweat glistening over your body. Warmth filling your belly with those familiar tingles, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment drinking in the pleasure Frankie brings to your body. Short gasps and moans leave your parted lips as you try to brag air in your starving lungs. Feeling the first strings of an orgasm start to sing through your veins, knowing he’s trying to kill you sweetly with his mouth. Only to have your eyes fly open and look down when he bites the gentle swell of your tummy. Nuzzling the soft flesh with his nose, his eyes lock with yours. Fingers grasping the band of your panties to peel them down. 

Placing kisses over each inch that’s bared to his hungry gaze. Tongue swirling around your belly button to dip in and nip before placing a kiss just before your soaked, puffy cunt. Impatience rides him hard, wanting to rip the flimsy material from your body. But also wanting you to wear them again. Biting back a groan of frustration he moves to the side pulling the fabric from your body, flinging it behind him. Pausing to taking in your beauty even as you squirm under the intense look in those gorgeous eyes. 

So enrapt by your beauty he doesn’t notice your hands coming down to shield yourself feeling a little self-conscious, till they partially cover your breasts. “Don’t,” the word coming out on a sharp growl that has your eyes snapping back to his. “Don’t ever feel like you have to hide from me Y/N. You’re gorgeous mi amor,” voice rough with unspoken emotions that show in the tight clinch of his jaw. Eyes that drink in every inch of your plush body. 

One hand intertwine’s with yours to bring down against the prominent bulge in his jeans. Hissing when you cup his shaft and squeeze. “You feel what you do to me cariño, what your body does to me?” Seeing you nod, swallowing hard as your fingers tip toe up to above the waist band of his jeans. Drawing your nails lightly over his tummy, watching as he sucks in then exhales making you smile. 

Nimble fingers making quick work with the button and zipper, hand slipping inside the material feeling the throb of his cloth covered cock against the tips of your fingers. Before he pushes them away making you pout at the loss. “Put that lip away sweetheart you’ll get your chance later,” smirk making its way back over his handsome features. Hands placed over your collarbone to draw them down over your curves pausing to dip his head down. Drawing his teeth over the soft flesh of your hips, hands sliding under you to cup your ass. Giving the generous globes a squeeze while sliding down to his belly. 

Groaning when the blanket covered floor makes contact with his erection, moist breath panting over the skin of your hip. Forehead resting on your lower belly to gather himself for a moment. Savoring the softness of your body under him, filling his work roughened hands. Lips worshiping the parts of you that at times make you want to cover and hide. Dipping his tongue along your folds grinning when another keening moan leaves your mouth on a gasp. Back arching to meet his mouth, one arm presses you back down wrapping around your thigh to hold you in place. 

Using those skilled fingers to tease the pearl of your clit. Bullying the little nub with light circling pressure that has stars bursting behind your tightly closed libs. Teeth baring to sink into the flesh of your thigh, leaving marks behind for you to feel tomorrow when your walking a little funny because of him. Repeating the same treatment to the twin thigh while semi ignoring the place you want him most. Only those talented fingers keep with light touches. That serve to drive you crazy with need and want. Trying to buck against him silently demanding more but held in place by his strong arms around your thick thighs. Baring your pussy to his gaze, licking his lips he leans forward to draw just the tip of his tongue from entrance to clit through your folds. Making a soft scream leave your body, smirk sliding back into place. 

That’s still there when you raise your head to look down at him, “Pay back baby…” gasping unable to form the last few words as his fingers have spread your folds. His lips attaching to your clit and sucking harshly, tongue flicking like the beating wings of a hummingbird. Another scream bouncing off the walls as your first orgasm rushes through your system catching you by surprise. Gasping for breath, fingers fisting the blankets below you, tight coil having sprung so quickly your eyes rolled back into your head. 

“Hmm that’s one hermosa I think you can give me another before you take my cock,” chuckling the vibrations shooting through your body making you shake. You try to answer, the words disappear on another whimper, body sensitive to his touches. 

Frankie unwraps his right hand from your thigh, fingers teasing along the seam of your body where thigh meets pelvis. Watching with hooded eyes as you gasp once more trying to collect yourself. Though he doesn’t give you a moment to think, sliding one finger inside your fluttering walls, thrusting slowly. Left hand spreading your folds as his tongue attacks your clit, slowly this time. Giving light little kitten licks, circling with the pointed tip before flicking the throbbing pearl. Crooking the finger inside you to press that little spot with each pass. Adding a second to stretch you open, groaning against your folds, “So tight for me mi amor, every fucking time, God.” Eyes dropping down to watch his fingers disappear inside your tight quivering walls. Curses leaving his lips in broken Spanish his hips rutting against the floor needing relief from the throbbing of his cock. 

He stays transfixed by the sigh of your cunt taking his fingers, the wet sounds with each thrust, the way your thighs shake around him. He adds a third finger, your voice meeting his ears. Though all he can make out if his name and please. Sparing a glance upward his breath catching at what he’s witnessing. Your hands cupping and massaging both your breasts, fingers tugging and pinching the nipples in time with his fingers. The sight burned into his memory one he’ll gladly keep and try to repeat many times over. Seeing you so wanton and free like this bolsters his ego knowing he’s the reason your on display in such a manner. Even as a spark of possessiveness cuts through never wanting anyone else to experience you in this way. 

Sensing eyes watching you, you raise your head to insnare his gaze, licking your lips slowly as your breath catches. Tingles dancing over your body at the way he’s mastered your pleasure. Giving you just what you need and when. Feeling almost as full with his fingers as with his cock though you crave having him deep inside you. But also knowing he won’t give you those desires till you’ve cum once more. Head dropping your back bows when his talented lips seal over your clit. Tongue lapping at the little nub and drawing different patterns to make you see stars explode behind those closed lids. His name chanted to the ceiling while those wicked fingers draw out your pleasure with each stroke and crook. Brushing that hidden spot no man other than Frankie has ever found. A moaning, withering mess under the man’s skilled mouth and hands. That coil tightening in your belly threatening to snap any second. 

Caught between wanting the delicious torture to end but also to continue being the pleasurable pain masochist you’ve become. All at once it becomes too much and not enough, hands shoot down to clutch at Frankie’s head. Tugging his hair and pressing him closer as your orgasm washes over you, his name a scream ripped from your mouth. Breath gasping from your lungs, body shattering around his tongue and fingers. You try to push him away, cunt oversensitive  from the two orgasms he’s brought you. 

Yet he continues tormenting you, with slow thrusts of his fingers, little laps of his tongue. Drawing out your orgasm, working you through each shuttering after shock. Till your spent, hands dropping to your side, eyes closed as you trying to control your breathing. Pulling his drenched fingers from your quivering walls to suck them clean. Humming in satisfaction at your tangy essence, placing one more kiss to your quivering clit making you jump at the contact and moan at the feel, proud chuckle leaving Frankie’s glistening lips. 

Placing kisses as he moved up your body, hovering over you once more. A shutter racing over his frame when your legs wrap around his trim waist, feet crossing at the small of his back to press his swollen jeans covered cock against your tender folds. 

“You’re pretty proud of yourself huh Morales?” Lashes fluttering just peeking up at him to see the smirk forming on his lips. Wanting to be cross with him for all the teasing but couldn’t summing the energy. Fingers carding through his hair tugging at the mahogany strands to bring his mouth down against yours. Tasting the remains of your essence when your tongue dips into his mouth. Mating with his in a dance that pulls a groan from the man above you. 

Hands tracing patterns over his back feeling the muscles shift, short nails lightly digging into his skin as your hips rut in slow circles against his groin. Your own smirk forming when you feel the shutter roll down his body. Detaching his mouth from yours to rest your foreheads together, breath fanning over your face as he tries to hold back just a bit longer. “Now who’s proud of themselves hermosa?”       

Giving a small shrug, one hand coming around to glide up his chest. Brushing over his nipple before wrapping around his neck. “I’d say it’s pretty equal now. Though you’re a little over dressed my love,” free hand sliding down to his ass and giving a squeeze. 

Wrapping his arms around you, Frankie rolls the both of you over, hands going to behind his head. Dark eyes watching you sit up, straddling his waist, wet folds pressing against his throbbing cock. “Undress me princesa.” 

 “Do I get to take my time with you flyboy?” Leaning down to place a chaste kiss to his lips, making sure you rub your body against his. Knowing he’s having a hard time containing himself, catching the way his hands are fisting under his head. “I could really draw this out, pay you back,” with each word you place a kiss. Starting just under his chin, to the pulse point on his neck. Nibbling that little spot for a moment to suck a mark. Moving on to flick each nipple, giving little bites to his sternum. Feeling rather than hearing the growl vibrate through his chest. 

Glancing up to ensnare his eyes, lips pressing into his tummy more times than there are words. Nuzzling the thin line of wiry hair leading down and under his jeans. “Oh look a map it’s a little thin but it seems to lead me to what I want.” Grinning at the groan echoing from his throat, rubbing your cheek into his skin. 

Fingers making quick work of the button, slowly lowering the zipper, hands slipping under the fabric to push from his hips. Leaving his boxer briefs on for now while working those sinfully sexy jeans from his body, depositing the behind you. Sitting on your knees between his legs, drinking in the sight  of your love. Running the palms of your hands up his calves to strong trembling thighs, fingers edging the stretchy material that hides little from your imagination. Bracing one hand on his hip you lean down to kiss the very visible patch of wetness. Knowing the crown of his cock rests beneath, lips much like this morning teasing the sensitive head. As your fingers tip toe up to pull down the band of his underwear. Baring his shaft to your hungry glaze, yanking the undergarment down his legs and straddling his right thigh. Rubbing yourself over the quivering muscle that flex’s with the touch of your wet cunt against his skin. 

“Shit ba… baby please,” whimper leaving his lips at the feel of your soft lips brushing over the crown. Warm breath making him twitch in need, hands having come from under his head to fist the blankets below. Knowing he won’t last long with how your teasing and tormenting him. Eyes rolling to the back of his head when the warmth of your mouth engulfs the crown. Free hand stroking his shaft, pulling the foreskin back to reveal the sensitive cock head to your lips. Tongue finding that one little spot just under the crown which never fails to make him lose his shit.

Hips thrusting upwards filling your gapping jaw having prepared yourself for that very moment and relaxed to take him down. Saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth, coating your fingers helping to lubricate your movements. A whine leaves the back of your throat when Frankie pulls you off his cock, catching sigh of the wrecked look on his face. The trembling of his body, the curses slipping from his lips in a mix of Spanish and English. 

“Can’t wait hermosa, need to be inside you, need you to ride me,” voice desperate and cracking. Not pausing in his movements to line you up, knees on either side of his waist. Like a rag doll you let him position you where he wants, not coming back to yourself till you feel the bunt tip of his cock run through your folds.

“Frankie…” calling out to try and gain his attention through the desire fogged brain. Unsure of the position, one that you’ve never tried together. Though you couldn’t say it not one you hadn’t thought about. You just didn’t want to hurt him by being on top. 

Shaking his head, positioning your body over his throbbing length. One hand wrapping around the base, long light strokes as he lines himself up. Even with his passion hazed mind, he knows your wanting to disagree with him. Making him sit up, cupping the back of your neck, “My choice mi amor I want to feel you around me, watch you bounce on my cock. See these beautiful eyes,” tracing his fingers to your cheek, brushing over your closed lids. “I want to watch you take your pleasure from me. Please mi ángel,” voice deep and tinged with want.

Lifting your lashes to stare at Frankie, using his shoulders to raise up as he teases your folds with his cock. Brushing over your clit, making you tremble in his arms before lining yourself up and sinking down slowly. Till your thick thighs are pressed against his hips, head tossed back at feeling so full. The slight burn of being stretched by his cock never fails to make you shutter in his arms. 

“So fucking wet, tight,” muttering the two words over while burying his face in your neck. Arms wrapping around your waist as yours move to wrap around his shoulders pressing your bodies together. Letting the fullness feeling wash over you, consuming your body. The steady throb of that vein reverberating through your system making you whimper, rolling your hips against his groin. 

“Baby please I need to move,” little whines leaving you lips a gasp wrenched from the depths of your soul when he lays back pressing his cock even deeper inside you. Large hands on your hips grounding him, watching with hooded eyes. Feet planted to thrust slowly up into your quivering walls,  filling you so completely you don’t know where you end and he begins. Not that you care at the moment, as your worry melts away with the tender heated look he’s giving you. 

“Ride me sweetheart,” bottom lip trembling before caught between his teeth. Watching you place a hand on the center of his chest. Rising up till just the cock head rests in the circle of your fluttering walls. Slowly sinking back down teasing the both of you with long deep strokes, moaning when he brushes over your g-spot each time. 

Eyes rolling back a gasp leaves your lips when warm hands come up to cup and massage your breasts. Tugging the peaked nipples making your walls squeeze his shaft tighter. A groan forced from his parted lips at the feeling. Watching the way your features morph in pleasure, biting your bottom lip with eyes tightly closed. 

“Look at me hermosa,” the command is hard to ignore combined with the tugs of his fingers at your nipples making you gasp. You slowly do as he asked entranced by the way he’s watching. Tongue coming out to wet his parched lips, breath catching in his throat at the sigh you present him. Sweat coating his forehead, dripping down the side of his face, chest glistening as you take him in. Hungry eyes devouring the look of pleasure, the needy little grunts expelled from his mouth. “Lean back on my knees I wanna watch my cock disappear into that pretty cunt of yours.” 

Whimpering, pausing your movements to do as he asks. Bracing yourself with hands on either side of you on the floor. Pressing your back against his bent knees that have lowered just a fraction so your spread out backwards on display for his eyes. Hips rolling against his groin, body undulating against him the movements slow and delicate. Filled with a passionate abandonment that never fails to make Frankie smile. Head tossed back gasping breath leaving your parted lips, forgetting about everything that’s not centered on Frankie and the movement of your hips. 

“So beautiful amor,” licking his lips, hand moving down to circle the little pulsing pearl with light pressure. Watching you quiver around him, feeling your walls squeeze his shaft, almost to the point of sucking him in deeper. Eyes glued to the apex of your thighs, observing how his cock disappears while his fingers draw different patterns over your clit. The sight nearly making him cum right then combined with the noises your making he knows it’s not long before he’s falling into the arms of pleasure. 

Siting up unable to keep his hands and mouth from you any longer, Frankie wraps his arm around your shoulders bringing you down with him. Mouth’s attached in a deep tangling of a kiss that’s pulling small little mewling whines and whimpers from you. Keeping his fingers on your clit tapping and circling making you gasp into his mouth. All the more with the vise like grip of his free arm around your waist holding you in place as his hips thrust upwards. In quick and deep punishing thrusts, chasing that high only you can give him but first he wants you to see the stars. Knowing your getting closer with each thrust, the tight clinch of your walls around his shaft, making him grit his teeth. 

With that thought and a need for air you break apart, lips going to your ear, “So fucking good to me mi amor,” groaning breathless. “Taking my cock like a good girl, letting me fuck you like this. Christ the things you make me feel mi vida. I’ll never get enough of you.” 

“Frankie,” another whimper of his name leaves your lips that your bury into his shoulder. Eyes dropping closed the closer you get to your release. Trying to grasp on to your sanity with each deep, hard stroke he delivers to your body. His words only serving to make you shiver even harder and when he hits that spot you blank. Mouth gapping in a silent scream of his name, release washing over you and coating his cock that keeps hammering into your quivering cunt. 

Teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder sucking a mark into the soft skin. Working you through your orgasm as his own begs for release. Balls tightening against his shaft as his hips start to falter in his pace. Hot moist breath leaving his nose that nuzzles the side of your throat over the mark he’s left. Eyes clinch tightly, cock throbbing to his heart beat as he spills his seed deep inside your body. 

Both of you are out of breath Frankie moving his hips in short shallow thrusts feeling your combined juices seeping out around his shaft. Groaning when he remembers the one thing he forgot. Hearing the sound you place a kiss to his neck, loopy smile gracing your features. Raising your head to look down at him, hips finally stopped even as the pleasurable after shocks still make your body tremble. 

Kissing his chin, nosing that little spot where no beard grows, nipping the skin gently, “Shall I move baby? Am I squishing you?” 

“Fuck no you ain’t hermosa and if you don’t stop saying shit like that I’m gonna smack your ass. You feel too damn good laying there and I don’t want to move from inside you.” Realizing what he just said heat floods his cheeks staining them a soft red. “I’m sorry mi ángel, I just don’t like you talking that way about yourself.” 

Biting the inside of your cheek to keep the moan from escaping at his words, the force of his tone making you clinch around him tightly. Praying he hasn’t felt the change in your demeanor or the way your heart flutters at his words. Though you should’ve known better when thumb and forefinger pinch your chin to rise it from looking at his chest. 

“Amor?” Having felt that squeeze around his shaft, making his heart hammer against his ribs. “Does that thought excite you sweetheart?” 

Soft whimper leaving your lips with a shake of your head though you focus back on what you’d intended to ask him after hearing the groan. Trying to divert his train of thought away from a newly found kink. “Why’d you groan if not because…” biting your bottom lip when you feel the stinging bite of his hand coming down on your right butt cheek. Chocking on the moan that tries to leave your lips as his fingers rub the offended area. Burying your heated face in his chest that rumbles under your head. “S’not funny Fransisco,” pinching his side getting a yelp that brings a smirk to your lips. 

“Woman you should be wore out,” hearing your playful huff. “Hmm seems I have more work to do mi amor, your still able to think and pinch.” Running his hands over your back, rolling the two of you over so he can stare down into your beautiful eyes softening cock slipping from your warm depths. Making you both groan at the loss. “And as to why I groaned a moment ago,” looking sheepish he leans up to kiss your forehead. Leaving his lips pressed there before speaking, “In my haste to have you cariño I forgot to use a condom.” 

Thinking for a moment, small chuckle leaving your lips that turns into full giggles you can’t keep inside anymore. Holding onto Frankie tightly, burying your face back into his neck, breathless laughter ghosting over his skin. Frown marring his features when he feels the shaking that turns into confusion as those giggles reach his ears. 

“It’s not funny sweetheart we haven’t talked about…” fingers covering his lips to stop the flow of words. 

Eyes locking with the worried chocolate orbits, “Frankie my love if we happen to make a baby tonight I would be over the moon with joy. That’s why I’m giggling,” smiling, little chuckles still escaping. “I want to have your child mi rey,” cupping his cheek to bring his lips down to yours. Placing nibbling kisses before a full press slipping your tongue into his mouth, coaxing a moan from deep within. Pleased smile tugging your lips up as you draw back, “Even if it’s not tonight I wouldn’t say no to trying every night.” 

“Mi amor,” endearment spoken on the tail end of a moan. Smile so blinding its as if the sun has been captured and brought inside to shine just for you. Holding you close he crashes his lips against yours, taking your moans and swallowing them. Sloppy and fierce, a clash of teeth and tongues, each trying to dominate the other. Till air becomes needed and you break apart gasping for breath. “You sure?” Worry creasing his brow, chocolate eyes filling with uncertainty as he looks at you.

Brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek, leaning up to place your lips over his, “I’m positive Frankie I want to give Isabella a brother or sister to play with.” 

Moving off you, hearing the whimper you make, “Don’t move baby I’m not going far.” Reaching for his jeans a nervous smile sliding over his face as he pulls the little black velvet box from the denim. Pausing to flip the lid staring at the chocolate diamond for a moment, till he feels you move soft hand coming to rest on his back. 

“Frankie?” Undertone of worry in your voice as you raise up on your knees waiting for him to turn and face you. Bottom lip caught between worrying teeth, fearful that you’ve said the wrong thing. Pushed him too far with the baby comments, Santi’s words coming back to you about marriage and asking Frankie first. Before thinking things through fully the words fall from your lips, “Marry me Morales?” 

“What?” Shock coloring his gasp, turning quickly to stare down at you. Swallowing hard, “What did you just ask me?” Trying to keep the box fisted in his hand so you can’t see it yet. 

Knowing there’s no reason for these feelings and thoughts to flow through your mind but his quick movements and no real answer causes the doubt to creep in. Eyes downcast not wanting to see the rejection in those chocolate pools you love so much. “I… I… I mean you don’t have to answer it’s just a silly question. I just thought,” biting you lip to keep the tears from slipping out of there ducts. 

“What silly question amor?” Fighting the urge to tip your chin up to see your beautiful face. Frankie waits and when you don’t answer he opens his fist in front of you. Flipping the box open, “You mean this question mi vida?” 

Gasping, eyes landing on the beautiful ring nestled into the plush black velvet, “Frankie?” Hands coming up to cover your mouth as tears slip free though they’ve changed to happiness as you stare up at him. 

“I wanted to ask you differently baby really I wanted to try something a little more romantic. Maybe candles and dinner, down the on one knee” rubbing the back of his neck scrambling for the right words.

“You mean,” hiccuping as a bright smile tugs your lip. “You didn’t plan on proposing to me naked right after we made love?” 

Rolling his eyes at your snark, free hand coming over to brush your tears away and cupping your cheek, breath catching when you place your own hand on top. Nuzzling the palm and placing a kiss to the center, “You deserve better, something special, flowers and chocolates and music playing. Not us naked…” 

Watery happy smile, placing your other hand over his mouth a moment, “Crap I don’t need Frankie I only want you and Isabella, you’re my life.” Taking a deep breath, scooting closer on your knees till your just a hairs breath away from him, “Yes.” 

“I haven’t asked you yet woman you can’t… wait what?” Chocolate eyes shocked wide by that simple little word. He’d hoped you’d say yes, dreamed of it from the moment he fell in love with you. But to hear you say yes still stole his breath and any other words he’d planned to say. 

Soft giggles leave your lips, dropping your eyes down to the ring box in his hand and back up to his. Wrapping your arm around his neck to pull his forehead down to yours, carding through the short curls at the back of his head. “Then you better ask me flyboy so you can make an honest woman out of me in case you’ve knocked me up.” 

“God sweetheart,” eyes slipping closed for a moment just breathing in your scent and warmth, savoring you, for a few heart beats, until he finally gather’s his wits. “Marry me amor, become my wife mother to Isabella and as many more child’s as you want. I don’t want to live this life without you beside me, please marry me,” whispering he last three words. Heart thumping wildly, fearful it’s all a dream and he’ll wake up back in that rehab with no proper out look for his life. 

“Yes Fransisco, yes I’ll marry you, I love you baby. Though,” watching his eyes open to stare back, so many emotions filtering through those beautiful eyes. “I’m not giving birth to five children I’ll leave at least two for you to push out of your dick.” 

Gruff laughter leaves his lips, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you against him, crashing your lips together in a hard, desperate kiss. Ring forgotten till it slips from his fingers in a bid to cup your ass and press you closer. 

“We can have as many children as you want amor,” unwrapping his arms to bring the box back to show you. Plucking the band from its snuggled confines. He grasps your left hand bringing it to his lips and kissing the ring finger. Keeping his eyes locked with yours while slipping it on your fourth digit, before dropping to look. “Prefect fit.” 

“Just like us,” leaning in to brush your lips over Frankie’s. Smirk gracing your features, “Remember we already have four kids and Isabella’s the mature one.” 

Deep happy laughter leaves Frankie’s chest, arms going back around your waist to haul you against his body. Properly sitting with his back against the couch, cradling you in his arms, playful smile on his lips, “Shame that three of them still need house broken.”

“Frankie,” your laughter joining his as you straddle his thighs settling in his lap. Letting your mirth simmer while looking at your ring, still unable to believe you’re gonna be married. “Pinch me,” soft yelp leaves you, trying to summon a glare to direct his way but failing miserably. 

“What you asked me to pinch you cariño,” soothing the pain he gave to your ass with the palm of his hand, cupping both generous globes to pull your pelvis flush with his. “Don’t worry I’ll kiss and make it all better baby unless you want something different.” Remembering the way you curved into his hand when he spanked you earlier. The memory of how tightly your quivering cunt gripped his cock, makes a moan leave his lips. Cock throbbing against your slick folds, demanding attention from the moment you straddled his thighs. 

Experimentally smacking your ass feeling you quake against him, breath hitching in your throat chocking off a moan. “Frankie,” rocking your hips against his growing shaft. Feeling his fingers dip between your folds finding you soaked and throbbing. 

“Like that don’t you baby, like when I smack this beautiful ass of yours,” low growl leaving his lips that attack your neck. Drawing another whimper of need from deep with in your body. “I know you do, can feel it you’ve soaked my fingers and I’ve barely touched you.” 

Rubbing your nose against his neck breathing in his scent mixed with the heady scent of sex and sweat. Amazed how he’s flipped from the sweet Frankie to sexual beast mode in seconds. “Don’t tease handsome please,” whimpering, all thought leaving your mind except for the way Frankie’s talented fingers feel. Strumming your body like a master to drag out moans and whines of pleasure. 

“As you wish amor,” slipping inside of you slowly, gritting his teeth at the tight squeeze of your walls. “I’m warning you now we’re not getting any sleep tonight baby. I’m gonna have you on every surface of this house I can.” 

Smirking, “Promises, promises Morales,” pulling back to stare into his molten chocolate eyes. “Actions,” gasping when he pulls half way out and thrusts back home. Hitting your g-spot, his pelvis moving to rub against your clit deliciously making stars shoot across your vision. Trying to form the rest of the words to tease him, “Speak louder than,” soft scream leaving when he dips to the side rolling the two of you so he’s hovering over you. 

Grasping your thighs to push them against your chest, pushing his cock ever deeper inside your depths. Eyes rolling back missing the smirk on his plush lips, “You’re saying amor?” Wedging his upper body between your thighs, legs draped over his shoulders, his knees braced apart for stability. Hovering over you with hands gripping your ass to lift a fraction off the ground and start a punishing pace. 

Making good on that truth, neither of you getting much rest that night. Finally eating dinner around mid-night, thankful that Frankie had turned the oven off earlier in the evening. Rewarding him for his thoughtfulness with a blowjob at the dinner table, making good use of the Reddi-whip. In turn Frankie snatched up what was left of the pie having a second helping of his dessert, with you spread out over the kitchen table. 

Reliving that moment in your mind you don’t hear the question Santi asks. Only breaking out of the smirk causing memory when Frankie places his hand on your thigh giving a squeeze. Looking from him back to Santi, “Hmm,” clearing your throat with a sip of coffee. “I’m sorry Pope what did you ask?” 

Chuckling, “Off daydreaming again cariño, hope it’s as good as the smirk on your face.” Lifting a dark brow, Pope watches you for a moment catching the subtle shift of your body, Frankie’s cheeks dusting red. Guessing the two of you spent much of the night and early morning celebrating. If the marks littering the both of you indication anything accompanied by the way your both leaning against each other. 

Thankful he called before driving over with Isabella and eager to hear weather you said yes. Though he knew better than anyone the answer which becomes confirmed while you hugging Will, chocolate diamond glinting in the sunlight filtering through the front door. After a round of hugs, claps on the back and congratulations along with very happy giggles from Isabella everyone settled in the kitchen for coffee. 

Drawing your thoughts back from this morning smirk only growing on your face, Frankie leans over, seeing the intent in your side profile, “Don’t do it hermosa.” Warning growl in his tone, hand still on your thigh giving a harder squeeze. Isabella’s little giggles the only answer he receives to the warning, wrapped in her mother’s arms and oblivious to everything except playing with your hair. 

“Well Santiago if you must know it’s even better,” chuckling evilly when Frankie groans head landing on your shoulder. Blindly reaching over to cover Isabella’s ears. “Just reliving late last night when Frankie got to have his second dessert.” 

Confused for a second, eyes widening comically as he looks from you to the table place he’s currently sitting at and back. “Your telling me,” words sputtering out as he pushes violently backward, chair scratching across the tiled floor. “You could’ve warned a guy Y/N,” shaking his head in part disgust and part amusement. “Tell me you at least disinfected it before we sat down?”

Shrugging, “Where’s the fun in that Pope, besides it’s only fair after all Frankie got to see the stars right there in that chair first.” Licking your lips glancing at both Will and Benny who haven’t caught on yet. The harsh crash of his chair makes you bust out laughing, holding onto the table for support and cleaving into Frankie who’s red as a tomato. 

“That’s just… fucking hell,” wiping at this ass and thighs like there’s something there. 

Confused till he looked between the two of you, the table and Santiago. Deep groan leaving his lips as he head comes down to rest in his hands, “We eat on this table now it has to be burned.” 

“What? Why?” Thinking for a second, comprehension clicking into place Benny jumps up scrubbing his hands along his pant legs. “That’s just wrong so fucking wrong now I have that in may head to. I take back the marriage proposal Y/N, Frankie can have you.” Though the grin on his lips speaks differently. It however doesn’t reach his normally expressive eyes. Hiding a secret he’s kept buried for far to long knowing now there’s no chance of it coming to the light of day. 

“How generous of you Benjamin,” playfully rolling your eyes, giggling when you look at Frankie seeing his eyes have narrowed on his friend. You lean over, “No worries flyboy you know you’re the only one.” 

Chuckling he places a kiss to your cheek giving you a wink, “I know.” Standing to round the table, “So you proposed to my girl huh?” Trying to infuse a touch of anger to his tone that fails miserably with the grin on his lips. “Dude what happened to the code of friendship huh?”

Stepping back, hands up in mock surrender, playful grin o his chapped lips. “You know I didn’t mean it like that Fish, Y/N’s a sister to me.” Words tasting and sounding bitter to his own ears. Looking too Will and Santi for help, finding none except fake disapproving frowns, arms crossed. Glancing at you and Isabella with a pleading look getting no help. 

“Shit,” little voice speaking into the silence every set of adult eyes land on her, giggling follows with little claps of her hands before burying her face in your chest shyly. 

Peels of laughter ring out around the kitchen Will beating the table with his fist, head hanging with broad shoulders twitching. Benny and Frankie leaning on each other as tears of mirth slip down their cheeks, Pope leaning against the island to stay standing up right his own body shaking in laughter. While you hold her close laughing, shaking your head at the sight of your family. “Your daddy and uncles are silly little one,” kissing her forehead locking eyes with Frankie when he turns to you. Seeing the love saturating those chocolate eyes, soft grin pulling at his lips. 

“I love you mi alma’s,” playfully pushing Benny from his shoulder to come around and kiss both your foreheads. 

Reaching up to cup his cheek, bringing him down to touch your lips together in a tender kiss, “I love you to my real soon to be husband.”  

Sure you still read get carried away into another world of your books. However, not so deeply that you neglect your husband’s needs and wants along with your own. Besides you know he’s so much better than any old book boyfriend.

THE END 

[featherfur]

Big Knife Meet Little Blind Ch.1

Xue Yang meets A-Qing before he meets Xiao Xingchen and decides he needs a disciple. Somehow he ends up with a kid, a heart, and an absolute mess of a cultivation world.

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Murder, Questionable Child Rearing, Xue Yang and A-Qing's potty mouth, Xue Yang isn't a good person and needs to get there, will eventually be SongXiaoXue, this is for fun and updates will be sporadic if at all so read at your own risk

The timeline's a little wonky to make it fit better. Xue Yang is 15 and A-Qing meets him at 4 around the time that Wei Wuxian dies. This is a mix of MDZS Novel and The Untamed, mostly the MDZS Novel but I'll take some liberties and cross over.

Read me on: AO3. Chapter Two

There were a lot of moments in Xue Yang’s life where he could look back on and go wow that was fucking stupid. Not that he would ever admit to that and, being fifteen, would absolutely not learn from his past mistakes. Unless it was to kill someone a little better, but that’s not the point.

The point is that Xue Yang managed to acquire a four year old child and he wasn’t thinking about how much of a responsibility that was, so much as he was wondering how long a child had to wait before they could hold a sword. The man who had helped Xue Yang cultivate a golden core a few years back had always chattered on and on about how you needed a young disciple so they’d never listen to anyone else.

That was probably good advice considering Xue Yang had killed him when he turned thirteen for being a general pain in the ass. (If anyone remembered the wild child who had flung themselves forward with a sword to kill the old man after watching him kick a child under the wheels of a cart, they were already dead or had the sense not to bring it up after watching only one person walk out of the scene alive.)

A-Qing was a quiet thing, usually. She’d managed to swindle Xue Yang out of a few coins by pleading about being blind and starving while wearing ragged clothing to sell it better, only to get caught a few minutes later when she ran directly to him to hide from whoever she’d stolen from. Xue Yang was impressed with her almost immediately and simply carried her off with the promise of dinner.

Xue Yang did not have a soft spot for abandoned kids, they weren’t his problem obviously. He did however have an incessant need to have things and he wanted a disciple. One that would be loyal to him and him only. It wasn’t like that was hard to do, people were so eager to give themselves over to someone else. Even the old man had been easy to fool into believing anything Xue Yang had said.

So there he was, fifteen, with a round-faced and probably feral four year old on his knee devouring a loaf of bread, and he finally realized that it may have been a stupid decision. He didn’t actually want to raise a child, what did one even do with a kid?

He was vaguely certain that you had to feed and water them but what else? Train them to sit and stay?

He probably should have taken his chances with someone a little older, around eight or so, so he could just hand them a sword and that would be all.

Then again, he realized with one hand moving to the back of A-Qing’s neck, he could still do that. No one had to know he grabbed the little brat and honestly a quick death was more merciful than dropping her back on the street, probably the only mercy Xue Yang had ever actually known.

White eyes blinked up at him, completely uncomprehending of the danger she was in, and then they flashed with something. She started patting herself down quickly, finding a small purse after a few seconds and pushed it towards him.

“What the hell is this?” Xue Yang grumbled, flicking it open and half expecting to find old food or bugs. Instead it was a pouch filled with money. A-Qing’s eyes were bright with the glimmering all bratty kids had when they got away with something they shouldn’t have.

“That’s why I was running.” She said pleasantly, either unaware or uncaring of any sort of moral dilemma other people would have. “Here. To pay you back.”

Her words weren’t the smoothest, and she didn’t have any idea of how to ‘pay him back’, but somehow his heart managed to soften just enough for him to move his hand from her neck. She was already prepared to steal, she had no problems faking blindness, and she seemed attached to him. He could work with this.

And, well, if he got annoyed he really could just kill her later.

“Well, Little Blind,” He hummed and pocketed the money to offer her a piece of fruit instead this time, “I think we’re going to work well together.”

_

Xue Yang thought everything was going well, he trained privately under a new master provided by Jin Guangyao during the day, then he returned to the little shack he had and made sure A-Qing hadn’t died while he was gone. It worked well for them and A-Qing didn’t seem to mind sitting next to the river for hours until he returned home as long as there was food to shove into her mouth.

Every day he’d come home to find her with one of her numerous sticks slapping at the water and the fish playfully. Sometimes she actually managed to trap one and they got to cook it for dinner. Other times she was so soaked with water that Xue Yang made the executive decision that it was Bath day and dropped her right back into the river to scrub both of them off and take the time to scold A-Qing for being a menace and a brat and ruining the nice things Xue Yang gave her.

The scoldings only worked for the first week and by the second A-Qing had turned the scoldings back on him, for coming home with blood on him.

Him. Xue Yang, a well known delinquent and killer, was being scolded by a four year old.

Somehow it managed to be more amusing than annoying and Xue Yang just dropped fish guts on her hair until she yowled like a cat.

For the first year it was rather peaceful and nice, not that Xue Yang would ever say it out loud, to come home to actually have someone there. Not to mention when he managed to wrangle her into half decent clothes and could take her with him into town, suddenly people were much more willing to trade things for half price. He could also release her like a dog and watch her disappear into the crowd and meet back up with her ten minutes later with a purse full of stolen money or whatever shiny ornament they’d seen and wanted.

Once he’d even brought her to his training when he knew he would be experimenting with the fierce corpses. She’d been mystified immediately, holding onto his hand as she leaned as close to the cages as she’d dared and turned to look up at him.

“Are they dead?”

“Yep,” He chirped happily, scooping her up onto his hip and moving closer. “Want to see what they can do?”

At her nod, Xue Yang called out to the corpse closest to him pulling at the resentful energy to command it. It wasn’t as easy as Wei Wuxian had it with his flute, though Xue Yang would do anything to have a chance to talk to him about it, but with the thick needles Xue Yang had shoved in their head the day before it was manageable.

Obeying his commands the corpse turned slowly towards one of the unconscious humans slumped against the wall in the back. Xue Yang walked with the corpse so A-Qing didn’t have to strain her neck, and with a flick of resentful energy demanded that the corpse rip the human open starting with the ribs.

A-Qing screamed when the corpse buried it’s fist in the human’s stomach and gripped the ribs, pulling and pulling until it tore the flesh, a dying scream echoing around the room. Her face was buried in his neck long enough that Xue Yang was starting to think maybe that gore wasn’t good enrichment for children and maybe he really should have read those books the Aunty from the dumpling shop gave him.

He didn’t want to break A-Qing, what use was she if she was broken? But how else could a kid get used to blood if it wasn’t shown to them?

Maybe, he thought with a subconscious stroke of her hair, he should have started with killing a chicken for dinner. Or maybe a cat, though A-Qing really liked cats so he’d have to pick a dog or a bird so she wouldn’t cry too much.

Then A-Qing chanced another glance, fingers still curled into the neckline of his robes, and seemed to be watching in fascination as the fierce corpse pulled out each organ and devoured them. She still shrank away when Xue Yang stepped closer to the cage but she didn’t scream again and Xue Yang knew he had this parenting thing down.

Kids were easy, you just had to feed and water them and show them some blood and they were happy.

“What do you think? Want to save the tongue for dinner?” Xue Yang teased her, cackling madly when she gave him a disgusted look.

“He didn’t wash his hands, it’s dirty, you said not to eat dirty food.” A-Qing scowled at him like she thought he was pranking her.

“Yes, yes of course, silly me.” He snickered despite himself, turning to place her down on one of the stools and approaching the cage alone. Despite A-Qing’s grumbling he still ordered the fierce corpse to rip out the tongue and bring it to him.

“I’m not eating that.” A-Qing spat when she saw him grab it with his bare hands. Xue Yang barely gave her an irritated look before he was moving towards the small fire pit and snagging a tea kettle.

Say what you want about him, Xue Yang still personally thought that Jin Guangyao was more insane than he was just for the fact that he had an entire set up for tea right next to a corpse cage.

“You’ll eat whatever I give you, brat.” Xue Yang snapped over at her before dropping the tongue into the kettle with water and set it over the pit. “Besides, this isn’t for you.”

He paused as took in the potential consequences of his actions for the first and probably last time of his life. He couldn’t stick a finger on why but he knew he didn’t want Jin Guangshan to find out about A-Qing. He’d been hiding her well, though he was sure Jin Guangyao had an idea, he didn’t want either Jin masterminds to know exactly how close Xue Yang was to her or what she looked like.

If he took the tongue tea to Jin Guangyao then he would want to see what Xue Yang was doing which would lead him right back to A-Qing. But Xue Yang really wanted to watch him drink it. Maybe instead he could ask for a few disciples to see what the effects of drinking human flesh tea vs fierce corpse flesh tea were.

The temptation tugged at him for a while before an actual tug made him look down.

A-Qing squeezed between him and the fire pit and bent down to light it with the flint and steel next to it. She had thought he wasn’t moving because he couldn’t figure out how to light the fire!

Xue Yang didn’t know if he was warmed by that or irritated that she thought he couldn’t do something so simple. Still, he just watched as she carefully set the logs on fire and nearly lost the flint into the inferno as the flames licked at her hands. They were moving faster than her little hands could get away and he knew immediately she would be burnt if he didn’t step in

He covered them with his own on instinct, ignoring the way the heat burned his knuckles and tugged her to the safety of his side instead. He could see the glistening skin on the back of his hands that were proof of his idiotic move and glared down at her. She grabbed for his hands, shrinking down when she saw the fury on his face.

“How many times have I told you not to play with fire? How stupid are you? Look what you did.” He snapped, ripping his hands away from her and staring at the bubbling skin instead. Forget how stupid she was, what the fuck was his problem? Why did he intervene instead of letting her learn her lesson?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Yang-ge, I didn’t-” A-qing babbled as Xue Yang cursed at the pain steadily increasing. He kicked the pot of water and tongue over onto the fire and grabbed her by the back of her robes.

She yelped as she was dragged forward towards the exit, Xue Yang slowly getting quieter and quieter even as he radiated fury and killing intent. The hand on the back of her robes was tightening by the second, dragging her so quickly that her feet stumbled and he was hauling her across the floor instead.

She’d felt Xue Yang come home with the aftereffects of resentful energy clinging to him but she’d never felt him like this. It was suffocating and nauseating, but she was too terrified to even scream. Everything changed so quickly she didn’t know what to think, one moment he was laughing and now he.. He .. he was going to....

He didn’t respond when she called out to him, ignoring her yelp when her knees hit the stairs he was climbing.

Xue Yang was actively burning with murderous intent, he hated pain and when he was hurting he wanted others to hurt too. Even something as simple as his own accidental burns was enough to pour gasoline on the constant coals of fury that he held within him. He could almost taste blood in the air and craved being able to do so.

The crunch of bones under his heel was a building urge, and his hand tightened over the robes until it was clear A-Qing was lucky he hadn’t grabbed her by the neck or it’d be snapped. The familiar feeling of his sword plunging into flesh was like a phantom limb and his blood craved to feel it anew. To refresh that wonderful pleasure as he had it memorised and fill his ears with more screams then just echoes.

He finally made it to the last step, flinging open the door and tossing A-Qing in front of him. She flailed and landed in the dirt, eyes shining with tears even as Jiangzai was unsheathed.

“Yang-ge!” She cried, covering her eyes to protect herself.

A moment later she opened them when nothing came. Instead of Jiangzai being plunged into her belly it was buried in the chest of a Jin disciple who’d been unlucky enough to come check what the commotion was when he heard Xue Yang stomping up the steps.

Xue Yang looked at the corpse on his sword with blank eyes, twitching Jiangzai so the man fell to the ground in a heap instead. Usually he’d be slightly more careful so as to not invoke the wrath of Sect Leader Jin or Jin Guangyao, but this disciple had seen A-Qing and so his life was forfeit as far as Xue Yang cared.

He pointed at her, then the direction of home.

“Go home.” He ordered and in a flash she was running off.

He blinked twice to get the image of her in the dirt out of his mind, trying to push away the reminder that not even ten years ago that had been him.

When the thought wouldn’t leave him, he buried Jiangzai into the body of the Jin disciple a few more times and dragged the corpse downstairs to see if he could bring it’s resentful soul back for some fun. He couldn’t hurt A-Qing, but he knew what he could hurt to feed the powerful urge to cause pain.

[anoutlandishfanfic]

The Alaskan Endeavor: Ch1 - The Ballad of Roger Mac

This lovely wee fic has been clattering around in my brain for some time, earning the accurate nickname of The Balto!Frasers— so bestowed by beta @thefraserwitch. Thanks to Beta Fish @walkinginland for helping me solidify the title and generally being wonderful.

A little back story as to WHY THE HECK SLED DOGS: I grew up around them and was familiar with them, even though they were my cousin’s team. CousinPaul had spent a couple years up in Kotzebue, AK — yes, it’s a real place! — between his residency and being employed as the wonderful physician he is in a regular hospital AND FELL IN LOVE WITH SLED DOGS. Wisconsin, specifically NORTHERN WI where I’m from, is a great place to have sled dogs as it gets nice and cold but has pretty mild summers.

That’s the history — but RECENTLY, I stumbled upon musher Blair Braverman on Twitter and caught the Sled Doggo bug again. She’s from WI and qualified and RACED in the Iditarod last year. Give her a follow: @BlairBraverman on Twitter.

Also, the chapter posting is in honor of the FIRST FEMALE WINNER of the John Beargrease Sled Dog Marathon since 1998! I feel like Claire would’ve be doin’ a lil dance.

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

June 11th, 2013 Kotzebue, Alaska.

Roger Wakefield.

I blinked down at the clipboard in my hand, then tentatively read the name aloud to the vet clinic’s packed waiting room.

Someone named their golden retriever Roger Wakefield?!

Looking up, I found a petite brunette making her way towards me with an expression of annoyance mingled with completely founded exasperation. The adolescent pup she was tugging along had absolutely no intention of leaving the new friend he had made and let out a series of trilling barks that kept up his end of the conversation… almost as if in song. I bit my lip in an effort to suppress a smile as I watched their labored progress — no pun intended as the woman was very obviously pregnant — and shook my head as Roger finally gave up, leaving his furry friend behind.

“Ah, yes,” I nodded and gestured for them to enter through the open doorway beside me, skillfully dodging the wet nose Roger tried to plunge between my legs in eager greeting.

“But, please, call me Claire.”

She stood there for half a moment, tipping her head to one side as if examining me. I did feel like I was being scrutinized, but it was rather mitigated somehow by the fact that the top of the messy bun piled high atop her head barely reached the top of my shoulders.

All of this was gone again in a second and she patted my arm on her way past, chuckling, “Aye, you’ll do just fine, Dr Claire.”

…

Roger nearly wriggled out of my arms in his effort to lick my face clean off as I tried to extricate him from my exam table.

“Yes, thank you,” I commented dryly, finally setting him down on all fours.

“He’s a bit of a lover, I’m afraid,” Jenny sighed, barely hiding a grin and taking no small amount of delight in my discomfort. “I don’t think my brother has quite forgiven him yet for impregnating one of his lead dogs.”

I stretched, taking a moment to shed my gloves and dry off my face, “Oh?”

“Mhmm,” she wrangled the dog back into a sitting position. “It was right before they started training this season and, of course, she can’t race if she’s whelping.”

I nodded, but didn’t comment, scrambling to gather the threads of what I knew about dog racing.

She can’t possibly be talking about greyhounds, Beauchamp.

Sled dogs.

Huskies.

I made an effort to shove aside my prejudice against dogs working in and being exposed to ridiculously low temperatures, forced to pull a heavy load and run on icy trails, but I apparently failed as Jenny interrupted this train of thought.

“You don’t approve of mushing, then?” her voice changed, dropped lower and became more guarded.

I hedged, trying out the new term, “Mushing?”

“Aye, that’s what sled dog racing is called,” Jenny clarified, not impatiently. “You’re against it?”

I sighed heavily, cursing my glass face.

“I’m not sure I know enough about it to be against it,” I confessed. “It’s just the concept seems terribly unfair to the dogs.”

A smile began to tug at one corner of Jenny’s mouth, “On the surface, aye, maybe it would seem so.”

I let out a sigh of relief, having seemed to have diffused the situation, and turned to resume my post-exam routine. I froze in place, however, my hands hovering over restocking some trivial item when she changed topics completely.

“Do you have dinner plans for tonight, Dr Claire?”

Where in the bloody hell did THAT come from?

Peering over my shoulder at her, I gaped, “Excuse me?”

“I’d like you to meet my family,” she explained, a full grin now on display. “To get a feel of how Kotzebue and Alaska really is… to see for yourself how a musher — a good one — treats his dogs.”

“I see,” I commented lamely, turning back around and sagging into my work counter, my mind still reeling.

“Can we expect you at, say, six o’clock?”

I took a good look at her then, her face awash with eager excitement. It made her eyes dance and hands tap nervously at her side.

I didn’t think they’d abduct me… hold me hostage somewhere until Joe — my business partner in the clinic — paid my ransom… and, actually, he’d been encouraging me just this morning to get to know more of the community members…

Why not, Beauchamp?

Oh, what the hell.

Geronimo, as they say.

“Of course,” I swallowed hard, accepting her invitation. “Can I bring anything?”

Jenny shook her head vigorously, beaming as she insisted, “Just yourself.”