#i think this is basically the greg masterlist

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - part 1

Summary: “Harry is a retired boxer who owns a gym and teaches self-defense classes. He considers himself a strong man, but when a gorgeous innocent woman attends a try-out class, she manages to leave him weak in the knees…”

Wc: 4.3k

Tropes: boxer!Harry x innocent!reader

Warnings: mentions of violence and SA

A/N: hello everyone! This is my new series NFWMB, named after one of Hozier’s most horny songs😄. I am so incredibly excited for this series omg it’s gonna be so good!!! If you don’t believe me, go listen to NFWMB and you’ll get a vague idea of what’s coming ;)

P.S. header = pov change

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Harry Styles was not one for regrets.

His life may not have turned the way he expected it to, but he was still proud of where he had come.

Being a professional boxer was a risky job, and Harry had known that when he had decided that it was going to be his career. But there was no other logical option. Harry was an exceptional boxer who was able to go pro at age 18, where he defeated a lot of men who were older and bigger than him.

It was his passion, it always had been. Which was something that was quite remarkable, especially to his closer family members, because Harry was anything but a violent person in his day to day life. He was quite reserved, and managed his temper very well. The years in the boxing ring did harden him quite a bit, his reserved nature developing into something more akin to stoicism.

Nevertheless, Harry loved boxing. It wasn't so much a fight to him, but more of a puzzle. Each opponent had its own made up riddle, and it was up to Harry to solve it as quick as possible. Much like a dance you learn the steps to along the way. A perfect combination of intuitive technique.

He hadn't planned on having to retire at the age of 27 already. It was supposed to be his peak; it had been for almost all boxers in history, and he was looking forward to how far he would be able to push his body during his prime.

He never got the opportunity to get an answer to those questions. A car accident got in the way.

He wouldn't have been able to stop it, he knew that, and he had forbidden himself from thinking about what could've happened had he not taken that specific road back home that horrible night. There was nothing he could do about it now, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

After a year of recovery, he was slowly able to get back into the rhythm of his old life again. Well, except for the boxing part. Knowing that his career in that field was over, he began thinking about some other options of his, and decided on fulfilling another dream of his: opening a gym.

He had always wanted to do it, but he always imagined to be retired by the time he would start on that.

Now, two years later, his gym was already in multiple locations, but Harry was still working at the first one he opened. He would visit the other ones every once in a while to see how everything was going, but he was mainly at the one nearest to his house. It was special to him, the place where it all started.

Despite running the place, and therefore not needing to be on location all the time, Harry was at the gym 24/7. He wasn't a personal trainer—wasn't really his style—but he would help people and teach self defense classes to women.

Every Thursday between 6 and 9, he would teach groups of ten women everything they needed to know on defending themselves from whatever threat they may run into. It was one of the things he was proudest of; the turn out at those classes. That these women put their trust in him, and let him help them become even tougher than they already were.

Tonight, after teaching the last group, Harry had gone to the bar with some of his friends. One of them was Sophie, a woman he had become friends with since she'd joined his self defense class. She was a great person with an impeccable sense of humor, and Harry was glad he had introduced her to Greg, his best friend. They were basically made for each other.

Harry had to admit that he envied his friend for the relationship he had. He was happy for them, but sometimes couldn't help but think that his lack of a partner was this one puzzle piece that would make his life even better. All in good time, he reminded himself.

"Hey," Sophie caught Harry's attention when she waved her hand in front of his face. His gaze shot to hers, eyebrows raised. "So, I was talking about your self defense class today at work. You know, promoting your business and all."

Harry chuckled at the cocky tone in which Sophie told her story, chin up high. He mumble a soft 'thanks', to which she grinned.

"You're welcome. Anyways, I have this new colleague and she seemed so intrigued by it, but she was too insecure about joining. I mean— she didn't outright say that, but I could just tell." She huffed, Greg rubbing her back. Sophie was a very happy person in general and wanted the best for everyone, this new colleague of hers included. Harry had the same habit, it's why he immediately suggested:

"Why don't you invite her along next week? A free try-out."

"But your try-out classes aren't for another two weeks." Sophie noted.

It was true. The self defense classes had become very popular, and since Harry taught them himself, he had scheduled one night of try-out classes a month. He was only able to take on so many people, but he didn't mind making this exception.

"She can join your regular class." Harry shrugged, and Sophie's eyes beamed with excitement.

"Thank you Harry!" She squealed happily, giving Greg a hug to channel her enthusiasm. "Oh, I hope she'll come along!"

"I'm sure she will." Harry assured her with a smile, and took another sip from his beer.

Y/N had never been one for risks.

She had never been the type of person to take the leap of faith, relying more on familiar feeling of security. Why risk hurting yourself when you could be safe and content?

It was the logic she had always operated with, the logic she had been taught from a very young age. Y/N had had a sheltered upbringing. Her parents wanted her and her little brother to be as safe as possible, and that was just fine to Y/N.

Her little brother was the more feisty one of the two, and his childhood consisted of a lot of fighting. It hurt Y/N to see the people she loved so much be so angry all the time, and it only motivated her to be as good as possible. She never drank, smoked, or went to parties. She turned in her homework early and got an A on almost every test. It did put a strain on her relationship with her brother, especially since Y/N's behavior would be used as ammunition towards him.

They still didn't talk all too much, but Y/N hoped that one day, she could repair that relationship again.

Moving a few towns away was a big deal for her parents, but the wonderful job she had gotten as a secretary at quite a prestigious law firm had made it all worth it. They helped her with moving into her apartment, but Y/N would regularly visit them on both weekdays and on the weekends. All in all, she'd had a safe, comfortable, content life.

Until a few months ago.

It was a Friday night, and Y/N had agreed to a date. One of the lawyers at the firm, Oscar, had been flirting with her ever since she started working there. Not wanting to be impolite, Y/N never outright rejected him, and so the flirting continued. She was a bit uncomfortable about it — especially since he was nearing his forties and she was only 23 — but figured the banter was part of the job. She was so shocked when he did ask her to go on a date, she said yes.

It wouldn't be too bad, she figured. She would just go on the date and tell him she wasn't interested afterwards. It could be casual, and no one would be too hurt. The date was definitely out of her carefully moderated comfort zone, but she would step out of it for one night.

The date was fine. Like she had expected, she wasn't interested in Oscar in a romantic way. Still, she listened to his stories, laughed right on cue at all his jokes, and told some of her own anecdotes as well. The dinner was great, and he even offered to walk her home.

They were nearing Y/N's apartment when Oscar had suddenly slowed down his walking pace. She only noticed when she was a few feet away from him, and walked back to where Oscar was standing.

"Are you okay? We're almost there, I promise." Y/N smiled politely, much like she did in the office. Oscar didn't say anything in response, only the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly.

"You're so beautiful, do you know that?" He  complimented her, and Y/N looked at her feet, not quite knowing how to handle the flattery.

"Thank you." She said softly, and froze when Oscar's fingers tilted her chin upwards. Her eyes widened when he suddenly leaned in and put his mouth on hers. After the first few seconds of pure shock slowly passed, Y/N pulled her head back.

Not getting the hint, Oscar grinned and leaned in again, this time with both his hands on her face. Y/N let out a yelp, stumbling backwards. Her body's alarm bells were ringing so loudly, but Oscar must've been deaf to her body language because he backed her up against the wall and kept kissing her.

Y/N cried out as she tried to push Oscar off with her hands, but he only grabbed them and pinned them above her head. Finally, not knowing what else to do, she lifted her knee and kicked him right in the crotch. Oscar shot backwards, groaning loudly as his grip finally loosened on her. He looked incredibly angry.

"What the fuck?!" He bellowed, standing up straight again. Y/N's lip quivered, tears running down her face.

"You wouldn't stop." She said softly, almost in a whisper. Her entire body was shaking from the adrenaline. Oscar's mouth opened to say something, but the conversation got interrupted.

"Oscar!" A woman's voice shouted from down the street. He turned his head, and his face morphed from sheer rage into a lovely smile, the same one he always put up for Y/N back in the office.

"Sophie!" He said, but the mention of her name sounded strained. Sophie... Y/N recognized her name, but she hadn't ever met the woman. She was one of the three female lawyers at the firm. Had been working there for only five years, but her reputation was so badass, everyone knew who she was.

"What are you doing out tonight?" Sophie asked as she gave Oscar a hug, and turned to Y/N. "Who's this?"

"This is Y/N." Oscar replied. "She's a secretary at the firm."

"Nice to meet you." Y/N extended her hand, and Sophie shook it.

"Nice to meet you too! How come I've never seen you around?" She tilted her head.

"I— I work on a different floor."

"Well, I'm glad I met you, Y/N!" She said, the kindness in her tone being a real comfort after that scary moment she just had to live through. Somewhere in the way she said it, and in the way her eyes softened slightly, it almost felt like Sophie knew.

"I— I should go. It's getting pretty late." Y/N decided that this could be her sweet escape.

"Right, I'm gonna bring Y/N home." Oscar said, and your eyes shot to him. Anxiety filled your lungs until all you could breathe was fear. You didn't want to be alone with him. You had no idea what he would be able to do to you. What were you going to do about it? You weren't even half as strong as he was.

"Oh, which way is it?" Sophie asked, turning to Y/N, who was about to open her mouth but got interrupted by Oscar.

"That way." He pointed toward the direction of Y/N's house. Sophie side eyed her colleague, then nodded.

"Exactly the way I was going! Let's go." She hooked her arm into Y/N's, and began walking, ranting about how it was unacceptable that they didn't work on the same floor.

Y/N wordlessly nodded along, filled with gratefulness to Sophie or the universe—or both—for not leaving her alone with Oscar again.

She got home safely about five minutes later, not daring to look Oscar in the eyes as she hugged him and said goodbye, and she only allowed her tears to fall down her cheek when she closed her front door.

Y/N spent the rest of the weekend in bed, not in the mood to do anything. By Monday, she felt both better and worse. She had had some time to come down from the shock of what happened, but the terror that filled her at the realization that she was to see Oscar again, had her stomach turn. On Monday morning, she even got into work late as a result of a wave of nausea that hit her once she'd grabbed her keys, spending the time she used to drive to work to puke her guts out instead.

Later, she'd found out that Oscar had called in sick that day. It gave her some time and space to breathe. Sophie visited her the same day, and she hadn't stopped visiting since.

Oscar did eventually return to work, but they never talked anymore. Y/N didn't dare to look him in the eye, and she avoided him at all costs. One day, about two weeks after everything happened, she did see him waiting by her cubicle, but she hid in the toilet for half an hour and by the time she returned he was gone.

It had been two months since that horrible event, and Y/N had entirely isolated herself. Back to the normal routine, back to what was familiar. It gave her a sense of control. She was fragile, and sensitive. She had just pressed down her sadness and anxiety that lingered as a result from the date, and instead focused entirely on what she could control.

She figured it would be easier. Well, except for the mental breakdowns she'd get when something small didn't go right. The dishes not being cleaned, her vacuum not taking up every speck of dust; it just set her off. It wasn't healthy, but she had no idea how else to deal with these things.

When Sophie mentioned she was following self-defense classes a couple weeks ago, Y/N's ears had perked up. She tried to be subtle about it; asking questions to pry some information about the classes from her. But, being the amazing lawyer she was, it didn't go over Sophie's head, and before she knew it she had an invite to a class.

"See you next week!" Harry exclaimed as the last of the women from the 7pm class left the room. He was still busy putting everything back into place before the next class which would commence in about five minutes.

He was just about done with everything when Sophie walked in, another girl walking in close behind her. Harry couldn't really make up her face, as she stayed closely behind Sophie, even upon nearing him.

Sophie looked proud, probably feeling very accomplished about the fact that she had been able to convince this colleague of hers to take her up on her offer.

"Hey!" She greeted Harry cheerfully, giving him a quick hug. He was still smiling when he turned to the woman standing next to Sophie. His mouth went a bit dry when he took in her face.

"Harry, this is Y/N."

For starters, she was a bit shorter than Sophie, and quite frail too. Her hair was up in a ponytail, leaving her features to be admired out in the open. Her eyes were soft—radiating mostly insecurity at the moment—and wide. Those Bambi eyes and plump, rosy lips...

She looked so... innocent?

He wasn't sure if it was the right word, but he was sure that he had to say something before the silence became too long.

"Hi Y/N." He repeated her name, seeing the slightest flicker of surprise run through the eyes of the woman in front of him. But the slight relaxation of her body told him that his usual trick was working. It was a typical 'strategy' that he would often use with people who were a bit unsure about him. His voice would soften, he would always wear a hint of a smile on his face, and he'd repeat people's names to create a bit more of a familiar environment. It always worked, and he was glad it did. He never wanted anyone, especially a woman, to feel uncomfortable around him.

"Hi." The corners of her mouth tugged up.

Angel.

That's all he could think of as he looked at her. Jesus Christ, she was beautiful.

"Thank you for joining the class. You don't have to join in on everything if you don't feel comfortable. Just observe and see if this is something you would like to practice more often, okay?"

The girl in front of him nodded intently the second he had finished talking. Her eyes widened ever so slightly before she peeped out an, "okay."

Harry grinned, his gaze shooting to Sophie—who was looking at him with this suspicious look on her face that she only got once in a while—before calling everyone in a circle and commencing the class.

This girl, Y/N, turned out to be a real distraction for him. He was so focused on trying to read how she was feeling that he trailed off during explanations a couple times. It was embarrassing, really. He was a grown man for God's sake, why couldn't he just concentrate?

Y/N only joined in for a couple of the basic movements, but she stayed back for most of the class. Her big eyes observed every movement Harry and the others made, impressed with how developed everyone seemed to be in their techniques. He noted that it only seemed to make her more timid, though.

His eyebrows kept knitting every time he looked at her, getting lost in his thoughts on how he could help her become more comfortable in his class. She'd caught his stare about halfway through the class, and at the way her eyes shot to the floor he realized that his gaze was actually doing the completed opposite of what he wanted to do, which was help her.

When the class ended, Harry gave his usual speech about how good everyone had done their job, and that he would see them all next week. Afterwards there would always be a couple of women hanging around to ask questions, and he would stop a few on their way out to compliment their improvements. When the rest of the women had left, Sophie walked up to Harry, Y/N following closely behind.

"Great class, Styles. Thanks for teaching me some ass kicking again." She teased, smiling at him before she took a sip from her water bottle.  Harry chuckled, shaking his head faintly.

"Glad you liked it." He turned to Y/N. "What about you?"

Her cheeks started heating up, mouth falling open ever so slightly. "M— me? Oh, uhm, yeah, pretty good."

"I'm going to use the bathroom really quick, I'll be right back." Sophie chimed in, and began walking towards the door. "Keep her company for me, will ya Styles?"

Harry almost laughed at how Y/N's eyes nearly popped out of her sockets at Sophie's announcement. She was nervous around him, and it was quite endearing, but she didn't need to be. Although it was very cute, Harry wanted her to be comfortable around her.

"You hated it, didn't you?" He said as soon as Sophie was out of sight. Harry was amused, watching Y/N scramble for words when she realized what he had said.

"What? No, no of course not! You're great! Teacher— you're a great teacher, I mean." She stumbled over every last one of her words, making it sound even less convincing than it already was, even though she did really mean it.

Harry solely raised his eyebrow, indicating that he did not buy any of that, and it was all it took for her shoulders to slump and a little sigh to leave those pretty lips of hers.

"It's really not you, I promise. I just get... a bit nervous in group settings, especially when it comes to sports. I don't even go to the gym." She confessed, and Harry nodded. That certainly made more sense. His heart warmed a bit at the fact that she reassured him that he wasn't the reason she wasn't liking the class all too much.

"Why don't you go to the gym?" Harry asked further, his tone soft. He didn't want to press too much, but he did want to know more about her.

"It's... embarrassing." She shrugged. Harry chuckled.

"I go to the gym all the time. I mean, I own this one. I can only imagine how embarrassing I must be."  He joked. He had to say he thought it was pretty funny, the way she blushed as he teased her.

"No, I didn't mean it like that! You're not embarrassing at all— I mean, you’re like the opposite. You're lean, and strong. You have like— big arms and you know what you're doing." She ranted, and had no idea how much Harry's ego was fueled by the compliments she was unknowingly throwing at him. "Whereas I— I have no idea what to do at a gym. I hate the idea of people being able to watch me and judge me if they want. Not that I think everyone's focusing on me all the time! I— I don't think that..."

Y/N's heart was racing as she finally got herself to stop talking. It was a nervous habit she had always possessed. As soon as something got awkward, her mouth would open and it would just never shut again. All communication skills flew out the window as soon as something — or in this case someone — made her nervous. She couldn't even remember half the words she just said.

"I can teach you, if you want."

The offer was as unexpected to Y/N as it was to Harry. He hadn't quite anticipated the words rolling off his tongue, but he didn't regret them either.

"It'll be a private class, and it can be in a closed room, like this one, or after closing time. Whatever suits you." Harry tried his hardest to sound casual, and not like what he was offering was something he literally never did. He had to hire a cleaner at home because he was too busy to get around to cleaning the house, that's how much he had to do. But the prospect of losing even more free time did not seem to bother him at all. In fact, he hoped Y/N would take him up on his offer as he scanned her face and waited for her to say something.

"No, I wouldn't want to ask that of you. I'm sure you're busy with a lot of other things." She declined politely, but he didn't miss the glimmer of hope in her eyes. Those private classes had sounded intriguing to her, he just knew it. So instead of accepting her rejection, he shrugged.

"How about this. I'm always in till late on Tuesday's. If you're sure you don't want private lessons, that's fine. But if it does sound like something you want to do, just be there at 9. I'll be there either way." Harry suggested. He didn't wait for a response — hearing Sophie's footsteps nearing — and instead said,

"Just think about it, alright?"

Y/N merely nodded, not even able to croak out a 'yes' before Sophie walked back into the room.

"Okay, I'm ready to go. Y/N?" Sophie asked, watching as her friend agreed and grabbed her things before walking towards the door where Sophie stood.

"Thanks for the class." Y/N turned around and smiled at Harry, throwing him a small wave as she started following Sophie out the door.

"Anytime." He winked at her.

"Bye Styles!" Sophie shouted, her keys clinking as she waved at Harry, behind her.

"Bye Soph." Harry called out, his eyes still transfixed on the girl behind his friend.

He didn't take her eyes off her as they walked towards the exit, taking in every detail of her delicate body as she moved further and further away from him. She was painstakingly beautiful. How had she just walked in? As soon as the girls disappeared behind the door, Harry let out a big sigh.

"Fuck." He murmured under his breath.

He really hoped Y/N would take him up on his offer. Harry had very quickly and very suddenly developed this intense need to help the girl, and that couldn't mean anything good.

Maybe he'd never see her again. She did sound very unsure. Besides, who said that she even wanted to go to this class? For all Harry knew, Sophie could've just used her manipulative convincing tricks, and Y/N, the polite angel she was, would've felt too bad to decline. Maybe, she thought he was an ass and didn't want anything to do with him.

In spite of the countless theories flying through his head, he knew that she wanted it. He had seen it in her eyes. She did really want to join the class, she was simply too nervous. But whether she would take him up on the offer, that was the question. He'd have to wait until the following week.

Strangely enough, he couldn't wait until it was Tuesday. He couldn't wait to find out…

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Changes

What do you do when the person you once were becomes the person you miss being the most?

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, no smut in this I'm sorry pls still read it :( there's some tension tho!!

Length: 6.5k words

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"Thanks for picking him up." Taehyung sighs, his son happily in the living room, taking a nap from school as he tucks himself in on the couch while his favorite show plays on the TV.

"I would've asked her, you know, but I feel like I'm relying too much on her again." The young father sighs. "I'm basically treating her the same as I did years ago, just without the pay."

"I heard about that." Jungkook says, drinking his coffee at the kitchen table where he sits across Taehyung. "She used to nanny while you lived separately from your wife, I think it was." He hums, setting his cup down. Jungkook isn't on bad terms with Taehyung's wife- but he tends to not say her name, because he honestly harbors quite a bit of distaste towards the woman who refuses to properly take care of her own child.

"Well don't you seem to know a bit about her now." Taehyung squints his eyes in suspicion. "What happened to 'she's too young for me anyways' huh?" He teases, and Jungkook sighs.

"Well, things.. happened. And we talked." He shrugs. "We're not.. really a couple, but we agreed to spend time with one another." He explains.

"So you're friends with benefits?" He wonders, drinking his tea while Jungkook leans back.

"No." He shakes his head, even though deep down, it does kind of feel like that to him, now that he thinks about it a bit more. "It's.. a bit more complicated than that. We're simply talking, seeing where it goes." He says.

"Hmhm." Tae nods. "Just don't break her heart. I still got basically nightmares from her last relationship." He mumbles a bit angrily to himself, clearly a bit irritated even just by the thought of it.

"I.. wondered what happened." Jungkook says. "Dae said he was a drinker?" He wonders, and Taehyung nods.

"Drinker, druggie, abusive asshole." He huffs, crossing his arms. "It's the main reason she moved away when Daehyun was younger. She wanted to protect him- make sure he won't get hurt."

"Was he violent?" Jungkook wants to know, because honestly, he has a hunch that that might've been the case. Taehyung seems on edge now, clearly torn between probably saying the truth, and respecting your privacy. "I was intending to ask her anyways. But she seems like the type to downplay her problems in order to make things seem less serious, so I thought you might be more honest." He adds.

"Yeah, she is like that." Tae agrees softly. "I'm not too sure what exactly went down. But I do know that she.. distanced herself out of fear that Daehyun might get hurt." He tells his friend. "Greg started to pick her up every time she'd babysit Daehyun at my house, even after I told him I didn't like that. He still did, still argued, turned up drunk multiple times at my doorstep." The young father remembers. "I kept her with me, of course. I'd never let her drive home with that alcoholic- but I guess something must've happened because she just.. suddenly cut contact." He shrugs. "Sent me a text, changed her number, moved out her old apartment."

"When did she come back?" Jungkook wonders.

"According to Yoongi, a few weeks before the aftershow party." Taehyung responds.

"So that's why you didn't recognize her?" He figures, and Tae nods.

"She changed a lot. Not just visually. She's.." His eyes lower to the cup in his hand. "..a lot more quiet. Cautious. Jumpy." He informs his friend. "And at the same time, she seems to mask a lot of it- get's irritated easily. She's trying to be who she was, but it's obvious that something changed, and whenever someone notices, she becomes defensive."

Jungkook doesn't really know what to think. Looking at Daehyun on the couch, he can absolutely understand your standpoint back then to get away from Taehyung's family in order to protect them- but that means there must have been at least some form of fear against your former partner to make you believe that he could potentially be a danger to the young boy and his father. It could also just be jealousy, of course- but Taehyung is right. You are a little odd sometimes.

And he doesn't know if he wants to know exactly why, or if he wants to let sleeping dogs rest.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook leans back in his office chair, headache already almost too unbearable to him, especially considering the woman who's making her way up in the giant corporate building to see him.

She wants money again, he knows it. Evelyn only ever visits him if there's something she wants, after all.

"One might argue they'd know me by now." Evelyn huffs as she enters the office, hair a bit wet as she throws her coat over the chair in front of his desk, before she sits down. "How're you doing?" She wonders, and Jungkook doesn't look away from his laptop's screen whatsoever, still looking through his e-mails. He doesn't have to put too many thoughts into this conversation after all- she's most likely just here to leech off of him again.

"Cut it." He simply says. "What do you want?" He asks, phone on his desk vibrating and chiming with a new notification.

'I can just drop something off for you? I just got off work myself, so it's no hassle.' your message reads, an answer to a former rant from him about his headache, and the fact that he's 'locked in like a dog' in his office and without any proper food ever since this morning. It makes him softly smile a little, the fact that you want to bring him something to eat even though you're probably exhausted from your shift as well is something he's not used to. And he didn't even have to ask for it.

'Only if it's really not an issue for you' his answer reads, and you send a thumbs-up emoji as an answer, before you finish typing your proper answer.

'DW, is anything okay or do you want something specific?' you question, and he immediately types a response.

'Just whatever, really. Nothing too spicy though, please.' he offers, when a hand knocks on the table in front of him, the woman in his office dragging him back into reality with force. He signs, locks his phone before he puts it down, opening a chat with the front desk downstairs to let them know to bring you up when you arrive.

"You know, this was always the issue, Jungkook." Evelyn whines, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. "You're so consumed by your work, it's crazy." She shakes her head.

"That wasn't work, actually." He bites back with a monotone voice, not really offering her any emotion whatsoever- there's nothing left in him anymore he could offer anyways. She took it all, sucked it out of him like an insect, and now she's constantly upset that he's empty inside.

"Anyways, I got this letter recently stating that there was an issue with the bank transfer?" She says, giving him the letter to read- which he does, flying over it just to remember why that bank transfer did not go through. "I told them that they'll get their money by friday." She hums, leaning her face on her palm while he gives her the letter back.

"What do I have to do with it then?" He asks, and she sits upright again, tilting her head a bit in irritation. "You said they'll get their money by friday. Good. Why are you here then?" He asks, arms crossed, office chair squeaking a bit as he leans back into it.

"Well, it's your bank account!" She laughs a bit unsure. "I don't even know why there was apparently not a sufficient balance on it." She argues.

"I resigned the automatic transfer rights." Jungkook tells her, face not moving an inch as he breaks the news. "The letter doesn't mention an insufficient balance at all, Evelyn. It states that there's no bank account set for the automated transfer option at all." He informs her.

"What the fuck Jungkook?!" She barks. "And you didn't even tell me?!" She yells, standing up to slap her hands on his desk. "You can't just make these changes and not inform me about it! Do you know how expensive that was?!" She accuses, and he shrugs, noticing something move behind her, milky glass front of his office hiding what's going on inside and outside, only letting shadows be seen if someone's close enough. "I'll text you the invoice later, and you better fucking pay, you asshole!" She says, when she whips her head around, someone opening the glass door.

"Thanks." You tell the office lady having let you in, before your eyes widen, door closing behind you and instantly drowning out all noise except the very slight sound of the fan in the corner of the room.

"Ah, there you are." Jungkook sighs, suddenly feeling a lot lighter as he looks at you. "Come here- is it still raining a lot?" He wonders easily, taking the white plastic bag from you to set it on his table, before giving you a small hug to greet you. "I think that was all you wanted, wasn't it?" He asks Evelyn, who hasn't even gotten up from her seat, instead clearly studying you now.

"Actually, no." She tells him. "And it's kind of private, so it would be real nice if your assistant would leave." She tells you with a smile that reminds you of a snarling dog.

"Then come back a different day." Jungkook answers her however, offering to take your coat from you to hang next to his own on the wall close to the large windows. "Right now I'm really not in the mood for whatever it might be. Especially not with my girlfriend in the room." He bluntly says, and something seems to flash over her face at the mention of your alleged role in his life.

She slowly stands up to take her coat from the back of the chair, movements a lot slower now, a glare sent into your direction. "Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart." Evelyn tells you, slipping into the sleeves of her coat. "His first love will always stay his job." She almost threatens, before she takes her purse and leaves through the door, leaving a confused you, and a clearly exhausted Jungkook behind.

"Please, sit down." He offers, and you do so, watching how he leans back in his chair, hands running over his face before he sits up again. "I'm sorry. That timing couldn't have been worse." He sighs.

"Ah, here. Do you have water here?" You wonder, and he nods, pointing towards a water dispenser in the room. "Oh, fancy." You laugh, walking up to fill a cup to put in front of him. "I take them myself, they usually help really quickly. Not trying to murder you." You tease, and he chuckles, taking the medication and the cup for himself.

"Thank you, really." He sighs out before taking the pill, washing it down with half of the cup's contents before he closes his eyes for a moment. "God I hate her so much." He suddenly breaks out laughing, before he shakes his head, digging through what you've bought for him.

"I assume that was your ex wife?" You wonder, and he nods.

"I'm also really sorry for telling her you're my girlfriend when we haven't even talked about that yet." He tells you a bit.. shyly almost, while you pull the bag closer to take something out for yourself.

"It's fine." You shrug. "Got a nice ring to it, you know?" You joke, and he smiles, starting to eat.

It's quiet, but not oddly so. He enjoys this a lot, this company without any pressure, no eerie sense of something being about to happen. You're clearly here because you want to be, there's nothing you want from him, nothing you need, nothing you could gain from this. It's just what it is, nothing else, nothing to red between the lines.

"You can ask why she was here, by the way." He offers you, wiping his mouth with a tissue.

"I don't have to know." You say, however. "It's got nothing to do with me- right?" You ask, and he nods. "Then it's none of my business. You can rant to me about it, sure, but I can't really give you any opinions on it since I don't really know her, or the situation around you and her." You tell him.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, before he nods. "You're right." He agrees, letting go of the topic entirely for now. He know it's only fair to talk to you about it at some point- but right now is not the time for that, he decides. "Do you want me to drive you home later? I really only have to answer this one E-mail and then I can clock out." He tells you between bites, wiping his fingers before he taps away on his keyboard.

"If it's not a bother, sure." You shrug. "You said you got the weekend off, right?" You ask him, and he nods a bit absentmindedly. "Then how about you stay over?" You ask, and that definitely seems to catch his attention.

"Stay over?" He asks, just to make sure he heard it correctly, and you nod.

"Yeah." You nod. "It's, you know, what boyfriends do with their girlfriends." You tease, making him roll his eyes. "We could cook something, watch a movie. Oh, and one of the lightbulbs in my kitchen broke, so maybe you could fix that for me?" You chirp, and he suddenly smiles brightly to himself, clicking something on his laptop before he shuts it down. "What's that grin for, mister?" You ask, and he just shakes his head.

"Nothing, really." He tells you. "I'm just really happy." He confesses, and you smile the same, now a bit shy.

"Well, what's your answer then?" You wonder, watching him pack the leftovers back into the bag, before he walks to get both his and your jackets, helping you into yours.

"My answer is yes." He says, voice very close to your ear as he leans over your shoulder from behind you, hands on your arms for a second. "I'd love to stay over and fix that lightbulb too, of course.-"

"Since I heard that's what boyfriends do with their girlfriends."

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"There we go." He says, slowly climbing down the plastic kitchen chair you're holding onto just in case. "Anything else while I'm here?" He genuinely asks, and you shake your head, moving the chair back to the small kitchen table.

"No, that was all. Thank you, really." You say, before you move to open the fridge, taking out some things while he stands around with his hands in his pockets. Your apartment is pretty small- living in it together with you would most likely prove to be way too much, but he still thinks it's better than his own, in terms of.. quality.

His own home feels empty. There's nothing in it, it's way too big for a single person, and the view from so high up above the clouds has long lost it's charm to him.

He sits down at the kitchen table, leaning on it a little as he watches you wash some vegetables before you grab a cutting board and a knife. "Daehyun said you're a little lonely without your dog." He says, and you giggle a little, smiling to yourself. "Have you considered getting another one?" He wonders, but you just shrug.

"I'm too busy at the moment." You deny. "I used to bring him to work with me, since he was a very quiet and calm dog, which fit perfect into our office." You remember. "He'd always sleep under my desk, right on my feet. Always kept them warm." You softly say, and he notices that he might've struck a still hurtful topic if only from the sound of your voice becoming somewhat tighter.

"I can imagine. I always wanted a dog too-" He sighs, leaning back. "But.. Evelyn, the woman you saw today, she doesn't like them. So it was out of the question."

"Really?" You wonder, cutting up the vegetables. "I mean, I guess, if both of you were really busy then it probably was for the best." You hum, tension leaving you again. "Gotta look at the bigger picture."

"Yeah, maybe it was for the best." He agrees. To be honest, Evelyn would've probably fought over the dog as well, just like she did over the apartment, and other more petty things like fucking furniture. She wanted to ruin him, if financially then emotionally, and somehow, she somewhat did.

It's quiet again, when you, surprisingly to him, cut into a topic he did not expect.

"His name was Greg." You say, filling a small pot with water before you place it on the stove, turning it on. "You probably talked about him with Taehyung."

"I did." He admits. "But there's not much I know." He offers. "And like you said about my situation, I don't have to know about things that don't concern me. However-" He begins, getting up to now stand closer, find your gaze that's turned downwards onto the cutting board. "-I don't want to accidentally do something that might make you uncomfortable due to past experiences." He says.

"What a tactful way to ask me if I've got any trauma from that guy." You chuckle, moving to put the cut up vegetables in a bowl before you continue the preparations for dinner.

"I'm trying to be gentle here." He attempts to lighten up the mood, and you indeed smile at that.

"And I'm very thankful for that." You offer him, before you sigh, setting down the knife. "I don't.. think we're at a point where I should be dumping all of what happened onto you." You inform him, and he nods, accepting that. "I don't like yelling. If I feel uncomfortable, I'll probably try and get myself out of a situation by any means necessary-" you admit, turning a little to look at him. "-and that will probably include some nasty words thrown your way, if that get's you away from me." You tell him. "And I don't like alcohol. Even if you hand me full on medical evidence that you can't even get drunk, the moment I smell it- I just can't trust you." You say, and he nods.

"Alright, I respect that." He nods.

"I'll also get pretty clingy over time." You add on, making him nod. "And I can be annoying. I'll text you a lot." You continue, and a small smile sneaks itself onto his lips as he shrugs, crossing his arms. "The moment you invite me into your home I'll practically steal half of your closet contents-"

"Is that what he told you?" He wonders, and you grow quiet, eyes avoiding him. "I'm obsessed with my work." He begins his own rant, standing up to walk closer to you. "I never have time for anything else. I'm boring. Sometimes rude, and immature. I'm a perfectionist, but I'm also lazy. I snore, and I work out too much to the point where I'm sweating buckets. I'm a little messy." He tells you, hugging you from behind, though not very intimately- giving you a clear way out if you so want to.

"…is that what she told you?" You answer, and he smiles.

"Let's just agree on getting to know each other just the way we are, not the way someone else described us in the past." He offers, and you nod.

"Alright." You hum, before you push him a little playfully. "Now go and let me cook in here, boyfriend." You tease, making him grin impishly, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he does not walk away from behind you, hands now flat on your ass. "Hey!"

"What? I'm out of your way like this." He tells you almost innocently, hands moving to hold your waist now.

"Sit down there and let me cook!" You laugh.

"But we wanted to cook together, no?" He wonders. "Like.. boyfriend and girlfriend." He leans his chin on your shoulder.

"Well, boyfriends let their girlfriends cook in peace." You threaten, making him chuckle as his fingers squeeze your hips a bit.

"Not if their girlfriend is this attractive." He purrs, making you roll your eyes.

"Jungkook…" You wonder, suddenly way more serious, making his stand up straight again so you can face him. "Is.. that what we are now?" You ask, and his lips part for a second, unsure of his own answer. "I mean, it's fine if we're just playing around. Just.. I'm scared that we might end up in some.. unnecessary drama down the line if we're blurring the lines too much without properly discussing things first." You say.

"What do you mean?" He asks, and you sigh.

"What if you end up calling me.. your girlfriend just as a joke? But I start believing it at some point- thinking we are something serious when we're not. Or the other way around." You explain. "I don't want us to get hurt again. Neither of us."

Jungkook takes a deep breath, and from this close proximity, you can make out two odd dots near his bottom lip you're not too sure of. You might ask him about them some other time.

"Let me take time off of work. Next week, three days." He offers, catching you off guard. "Let's go on a trip. Together. Someplace no one knows us, and we don't know either." He tells you.

"I mean- I would've had friday and the weekend off anyways but-"

"Okay, great, perfect. I'll cancel my Friday meetings." He tells you, hands moving- at first, they seem to attempt to hold your cheeks- but it's like that feels too intimate yet, so he settles for your shoulders. "Let's get to know each other. The real you and me that got.. buried at some point." He offers.

"Why on a trip?" You ask.

"Because it's perfect." He chuckles. "Close proximity of the hotel room we'll share, stress of navigating the unfamiliar environment, the tension of not being able to just 'escape' any uncomfortable situation right away forcing us to talk things out as they happen-" He begins, and your mouth shapes an 'o' as you realize what he's talking about.

"It's a stress-test." You say, and he nods, grinning.

"Exactly." He nods.

"…to be honest you're already stressing me out." You jokingly reply-

Jungkook laughing, and you have a feeling he's not done that in a long time, with the way his ears turn red and his hand covers his mouth in embarrassment of that outburst.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

When Taehyung opens the door, he instantly greets his son who Jungkook has put down the moment he'd noticed the young father arriving at the front door to let him in.

"Oh wow." Taehyung laughs as Jungkook walks in, almost nervously running a hand through his hair. "Is the world ending? Apocalypse? Or am I high?" He jokes, making Jungkook roll his eyes. "No, seriously! I didn't even know you could still put those piercings back in!" He laughs, taking Dae's school backpack to take out his lunchbox so he can sort out the leftovers and wrappers from his snacks.

"It was a bit tricky, I won't lie." He laughs a little. "But they didn't really close all that much since I had them for so long, so it wasn't a big deal." He shrugs.

"What's the occasion?" Tae wonders, throwing the wrappers of Daehyun's snacks in the trash. "You most certainly don't look like you're gonna go to a meeting like that. What happened to 'I'm not in my twenties anymore' huh?" He jokes.

"I'm honestly not sure." He answers, hands in the pockets of his pants. "Just.. felt like it. And I'm not going to the office- I took time off." He confesses.

"Okay, are you running a fever?" Taehyung asks, and Jungkook laughs to himself. "Are you gonna meet up with your.. friend?" He air-quotes, and Jungkook nods, checking the silver watch on his wrist.

"Yeah- we're meeting up later, she's currently packing her things last thing she texted me." He nods. "Our flight is in about three hours from now, but it's her first time flying, so we wanted to be there a bit early just in case." Jungkook shrugs.

"Oh, fancy." Taehyung laughs. "Why though?" He wonders, washing the colorful lunchbox of his son in the sink.

"Stress testing." Jungkook offers. "We just want to see if we can handle each other under pressure." He says, and Taehyung sighs.

"My god Jungkook, can you just once try and not make everything more complicated than it has to be?" He worries. "Just spend time with her. Go out for a coffee or something, watch a shitty movie at home and let her suck you off during the commercial break or something, you know, like NORMAL people!" He whines. "You're acting as if this is some million-dollar business discussion. It's really not." He huffs out in frustration. "Listen, I know Eve fucked you over bad, and honestly you've always had a shit-taste in women to begin with because holy fuck if I think back to Lucy-"

"Can you get to the point?" Jungkook complains, a little embarrassed as his friend brings up his admittedly terrible dating history.

"-yeah, sorry." He laughs. "But, trust me-" Taehyung says, drying his hands before he puts them on his friend's shoulders. "-she's honestly perfect for you. Once you help her get her confidence back up, trust me, you've got yourself someone who's not a raging cunt for once." He finishes his rant, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.

"You think?" He worries, and Taehyung nods.

"I do." He says, patting his friend's back before he leads him to his front door. "Be yourself. And I mean, your real self. Be that goofy dude who cries during disney movies and folds his laundry to Depeche Mode at 3 am."

"Why would I do that?" Jungkook cringes, thinking his friend is joking- but he's surprised to find Taehyung with a soft gaze instead, an encouraging smile on his lips.

"Because that's the Jungkook I know." He offers, a somber look on his face.

"And I miss him."

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Let me take that." He offers, taking the suitcase from you. It's small, scratched up, and he can't help but notice the stickers on it. "You good to go?" He wonders, and you nod, closing the door before locking it, walking next to him out the apartment building towards his by now familiar car, his own luggage already in the trunk where he puts yours now as well.

The moment you sit next to him inside, is when you notice how.. different he is today. Not only from looks alone- but it feels different, oddly enough. Lighter. Not as serious as he usually is. "I wondered what those.. spots were." You say, looking at him from the passenger side, and he raises his brows while stopping at a red light, turning his head towards you, who points to your own lower lip.

"Ah, yeah." He chuckles, a bit bashful. "I.. got them done in my early twenties. Took them out though, because.. I don't know." He shrugs.

"You don't know, of do you just realize that the reason was stupid?" You giggle, and he sighs, with a smile on his lips however.

"Caught me." He confesses, changing lanes as he makes his way to the airport.

"Why'd you put them back in?" You ask, leaning against the car door a bit.

"Because I wanted to be myself." He explains. "I.. like I said. I want you to get to know me. And not the person I became to please others around me." He tells you.

"I assume your.. ex wife didn't like the piercings?" You ask, testing how far you can pry into his past and how much you can poke until he tells you off. But much to your surprise, he seems rather unfazed by the topic.

"She hated my tattoos as well. Wanted me to get them removed constantly." He chuckles, and you're intrigued.

"You've got tattoos as well?" You ask, and he nods.

"Maybe I'll let you see them later?" He flirts, and you grin to yourself, adjusting your legs a little as you stay quiet. "Either way, Evelyn didn't like a lot about me."

"Then why did she marry you?" You ask, noticing too late how mean that question could come off.

"Probably for my bank account." He simply laughs. "I was.. stupid. I thought she was fixing me." He shakes his head. "I thought she only had my best interest in mind." He says, setting his turn lights to enter the airport parking area. "But she always hated me. Still does." He sighs, searching for a proper parking spot.

"Well, I don't hate you." You tell him.

"Yet." He mumbles, before he finally parks the car, turning off the engine. "Do you have your passport and everything on hand? Don't wanna have to unpack everything in a rush later at check-in." He tries to change the topic, but you look at him with eyes so soft that he becomes scared of them.

"Jungkook." You say his name, and he hates how kind it sounds. "As long as you're not like him, I won't hate you. Honestly, I don't even hate him." You tell him, and he nods a bit stiffly, before practically escaping the car, instead putting on his jacket before helping you take out your suitcase and handbag.

Inside the airport, he notices your nervousness, hand constantly reaching out but never holding on to him at all, in any way. It makes him chuckle a little as he watches you fight with yourself for quite a while, before he helps you check in.

You're clearly a bit overstimulated by everything going on around you, looking around anxiously, biting the inside of your lips constantly, even as you both sit down to wait for your gate to open for boarding. "Hey-" He reaches out to tug your lip from your teeth with his thumb, before he smiles in reassurance. "Okay?" He wonders, and you nod, though you're not looking at him. "Come here. You can hold onto me, by the way, if that helps you." Jungkook suggests, and you move your arms to wrap around one of his, body scooting closer to lean your face against his shoulder, sweater soft against your skin. He moves his arm around your shoulders to keep you closer, hand offering itself for you to hold instead, and you do so, fingers cold. "What's that scar?" He wonders, thumb running over a faint scar over the palm of your hand.

"A shoelace." You say, a little quietly.

"A shoelace?" He repeats, and you nod.

"Yeah." You confirm. "I had.. I was in the midst of changing the laces of.. Gregory's boots, because the dog had chewed them. But he got mad anyways, and pulled them out of my hand." You remember. "It happened really quickly, but I remember that it hurt badly." You chuckle. "It was an odd pain. Like my body couldn't decide whether or not I was burned or cut."

Jungkooks hand on your shoulder starts to move a little in a soothing motion, fingers circling around. It's his first confirmation that something did indeed happen, and he's almost convinced that what you just told him was probably not an isolated incident, but simply one of many that went down during your entire relationship.

"I didn't want him to get mad at Yogi. He already hated the poor dog enough." You sigh, closing your eyes as you settle against Jungkook's side. He enjoys this close proximity, the domestic feel of this moment, even though it's out in public and for everyone to see. He doesn't care.

"You can heal with me, you know?" He says, and you look up at him from where you're leaning against his body. "I can't promise you that.. our time spent will be all smooth sailing, but I can assure you that it will be nothing like what you've experienced." He hums towards you.

And you smile warmly, sighing. "Don't worry-" you giggle, closing your eyes.

"-It already is."

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The hotel room is spacious, expensive looking, nothing like you've seen before.

Usually, you only really get to see things like these on vacation photos your friends show you- you yourself don't really travel, you technically don't take time off at all, rather always asking to have your off-days paid out instead if possible. You've got no reason to treat yourself with anything, be it time off or a full on vacation.

Your sense of self worth has shriveled up like rotten fruit over the years, now thrown out like the garbage it is.

Jungkook meanwhile clearly has a routine in him, as he walks through every room first to check if everything's okay, just to then place his bag somewhere near the bed, a big yawn escaping him as he opens the balcony door wide, letting the air of the seaside in. It's odd to see him dressed rather casual, simple but expensive sweater stretching over his broad back. His face still shows the clear stress he's accumulated, and it makes you wonder.

"Do you.. go on vacations often?" You wonder, and he shakes his head.

"No, usually I only fly out for business trips." He explains, watching you sit on the edge of the twin-sized bed. "I originally thought I should book two single beds, by the way. I just.. thought it might be more intimate like this." He tells you, leaning against the small balcony's edge outside, glass door open, as the wind blows through the curtains a little.

"It's okay like this." You nod, making him smile softly.

"Do you want to rest a little?" He asks, and you shrug, unsure. You only have three days- if you sleep now, it's probably annoying to him since he most likely planned something on this trip for you both to do. He at least comes across as someone who likes to have everything set out and structured- not like you, who dives in head first without any real plan. You don't want him to stay hidden inside the hotel room just because you're tired from the flight. "Hey." He asks, and you didn't even notice him squatting down in front of where you sit, his hands on your knees as he finds your eyes from where he's looking up at you. "Don't hesitate to speak your mind. If we want this to work, we need honestly, first and foremost." He encourages, and you nod.

"I'm tired- but I don't want to be boring." You worry.

"How would taking a nap be boring?" he chuckles. "I'm actually glad you're tired. I didn't want to come off as an old man who needs a break because he can't keep up." He laughs, standing up before he moves to lay down on the bed, patting the spot right next to him.

You lay down where he wordlessly suggested, taking in a deep breath while focusing your eyes on the collar of his sweater for a moment. It's when your gaze roams around that you notice something poke out on his wrist as he turns back around from removing his watch from the other arm. Your fingers curiously lift the fabric of the sleeve, making him chuckle quietly, before he moves to push the fabric up to his elbow, exposing different colors of ink underneath his skin.

What was Jungkook like when he was younger? Has he always been somewhat like this- or has he changed into this instead?

"Got them done in my early twenties too." He explains quietly. "Just.. lineart at first. Black and white." Jungkook remembers as he watches you trace some of the lines with your finger. "Then it got more. Over time, it looked a little messy- so I added color to it, this time actually going to a professional who specifies in forming sleeves." He tells you.

"Do you regret them?" You wonder. "Like.. your piercings and your tattoos?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

"It's not like I regret them." He denies. "I still like the look of them. The aesthetic of it. It's just.." He sighs, inked hand turning around palm up, and you put your own on top of his, making him move to compare your hand sizes palm to palm. "..they don't feel like me anymore." He shrugs.

"Maybe because they aren't." You offer, now holding his hand with both of yours, your eyes on the blurred ink underneath the skin. "Maybe.. you changed. Even though you didn't want to."

He did. He knows that he did- but what he struggles with, is the question if he can even go back now. He wants to, but at this point, he feels like he's crossed that line by now, too far to step back and take a different path. Most people around him nowadays only now this Jungkook, not the one he used to be. If he just reverts back to who he once was, will he lose every friendship and connection he's made after he married?

Marriage. The moment he changed.

Love can make someone truly blind to a lot of things. He overlooked so many warning signs, pushed old friends and even family away just because they saw what he did not- or more so refused to. He's not spoken to his own parents in years, by now too ashamed to admit that he'd been wrong for the entirety of his past relationship, that his mother was right about her. What would she think about you?

She'd like you, he's very sure about that. His father would probably be a little suspicious of the age gab, and his brother would most likely tease the living daylights out of him, but he knows you'd fit right in. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? What would they think of him?

He wants to ask you, but the moment he becomes aware and snaps out of his thoughts, your eyes are already closed, breathing even. You're still holding onto him, and he realizes that he's never actually had a moment like this with Evelyn in the past, not even when they were just a regular couple, and definitely not after they got married. He feels.. free. No pressure on him, no obligations awaiting him, nothing needed or expected from him. You're simply sleeping, and yet the act itself makes his pride swell, because of your display of trust towards him.

He knows you've been hurt. He knows that he's been hurt-

And maybe, just maybe, together, you can finally begin heal.

Change once more, for a final time, into a happier version of yourselves.

[obx-archives]

act - jj maybank

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warning: +18. NSFW CONTENT. MINORS DNI. roleplaying (ish). oral and vaginal sex.

word count: 1.8k

masterlist | join the taglist | kinktober!!!!

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"Twenty bucks that the blonde's gonna roll her eyes as soon as you get near her, bud."  

"No chance, I'm irresistible; she'll at least give me her number." Another guy confidently replied

"Nah, ain't happening, dude." 

I've been eavesdropping on these tourons for the last ten minutes, when slid onto the neighbor stool, they barely glanced my way, that gave me no choice if not listen on their douchey conversation.

From what I understood they’re betting on who could score numbers from the ladies at the bar. I honestly wish them good luck, especially since they're aiming for Kooks, which 1. they don't seem to realize that and 2. huge mistake. But it was damn entraining to watch. 

Two of them try to get the girls that are dancing but none of them succeed. I watched them toss cash into the counter as they lost their bet and that money had my name written all over it, now that’s when things get interesting.”

I set my glass on the counter and say, "Can I play?”

They turned to me, their faces sporting a strange mix of curiosity and skepticism.

“Pass. If you lose, you’re the one who has to pay us, and…I don’t think you can afford our little game,” one of them replied cockily.

"I mean, I can play for free just to school y'all on how it's done. Seems like y'all got plenty of time," I shot back, grinning.

“What’s your deal man, you’ve been listening to our conversation this whole time?.”

“You haven’t noticed? That’s why your odds with girls are so low.” I casually teased.

“Then go ahead, big boy. I’ll give you five if she even looks at you,”  They laughed contemptuously.

“C’mon Kyle, have more faith in the boy, I'll give you ten.” the other one said mocking me 

“All right, do y’all have anyone in mind?.” I asked, turning and examining the room.

“choose your victim, most of them don't even seem to be interested in men.” One of the dark-haired guys says, making the others laugh again.

“What about that one?” I proposed pointing to a girl sitting across the bar, her hair was loose and her pink dress was accentuating her curves, she was cute and wasn’t interacting with anyone, just sitting there with legs crossed observing everyone. Bingo

“Ha, Greg tried that one but she scoffed at him when he tried to open his mouth. Be our guest buddy.” the blonde-haired dude said

“Watch and learn whoever Greg is,” I said tapping the counter and heading in the direction of the girl.

With this body and this face, I’m impressed that just one of those shitheads tried. Lucky me I guess.

“G’night, can I get you a drink?.” I asked leaning my body into the counter slightly toward her.

"I'm good, thanks," she replied, lifting her drink. 

She had to tilt her head to glance up at me since she was seated, and I was towered over her. She flashed a brief smile my way before turning her attention elsewhere.

“The next one then?.” I pressed, trying to catch her gaze once more.

“Unfortunately this is my last one.”

“C’mon, the night just started.” I insisted

"I better not have another drink, or I might get tipsy, and you wouldn't want to see what happens when I do." She stated smirking

“Actually I do, I would love to see how bad you can be,” I said edging closer, her knee lightly brushing my hip. I swear I hear her breath hitch at the slight contact. 

“Alright, let me lay it out straight for ya.” I bring my lips closer to her ears “You see those dudes all together right behind me?” I asked, staring at her moving my body so she could see them.

She smoothly switched her gaze to the guys and nodded at me.

"They're placing bets on the ladies' numbers and they basically told me I don't stand a chance at catching your eye."

“Well, it seems they’ve already lost something, right?” She stated, looking into my eyes, her lips turned into a smirk.

“Yeah, but when I came here I already had zero interest in your number.” This time, I’m the one who tilts my head whilst I analyze her frame.

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh really? What's your game, then?"

"A kiss," I said casually, my gaze locked on her lips.

"So you can show off to your buddies and prove them wrong? Not happening," she retorted.

“Nah, I’m just testing my intuition and since I saw you, I knew you wanted me.” I casually whispered into her ear. Now I was sure, her breath faltered, I could tell her body was reacting to how close we were. 

“You have one hell of an intuition.” She chuckles lightly grazing my arm. “Well, I can’t deny there’s something about you.”

I leaned in even closer, our faces inches apart. "So, you're saying there's a chance?"

Her eyes flickered down to my lips and then back up to meet my gaze. "Maybe a small one," she teased.

I gave in to the irresistible temptation. I lean in until our lips press together in a lingering kiss. Her hand found its way to the back of my neck as our hungry lips were locked. As we parted, she smirked, "What’s your intuition telling you now?."

“That I should take you off here.” 

“What would your girlfriend say about this?” She asked, biting her lips. I give her a dirty smile.

“She would say: “Please let me come JJ..” I teased her planting a wet kiss on her neck

I smile as I see the reaction on Y/N’s face. 

She jumps out of her stool and grabs my hand dragging me to the exit, I make sure to wink and snatch the money out of those douches hands before leaving. 

I guess this is my lucky night. Nope, I didn't trick those guys, my girlfriend was the one who suggested the little act at the bar, destiny put those dudes next to me with all that cash. I just so happen to be there and be good with my lady.

Which right now is very sex-starved, if she could she would rip her clothes into the bar’s bathroom and let me fuck her right there which honestly is not a problem to me. But she was painfully patient to get home and allowed me to give her a proper treatment.

“Baby, please…” She cries as I kiss her 

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

“I want you…now.” she drags the words with her moans “I want this.” Y/N palms cover my package and my erection nearly hammers its way out of my pants.

“My girlfriend will not like this.”

“I'm sure she will, she actually wants me to take you with my mouth.” 

That's it. Goodbye, roleplay. I might explode before taking my underwear.

I'm kissing Y/N before either of us can move an inch, My tongue slides through her parted lips in a greedy stroke. She gasps with delight and kisses me back, her tongue tangling with mine for a few mind-melting seconds before she kisses her way toward my neck. The next second she's unzipping me and slowly sinking into her knees.

“Take your clothes off, baby.” She seductively demands

I kick my boots and pants off quickly. As I peel off my shirt, Y/N digs her nails into my abs, making me curse under my breath. I'm starting to worry that I won't last long.

Y/N leans forward kissing the tip of my dick, I rub my fingers into her lips, and she teases me with slow and gentle movements, I cup the back of her head and urge her closer. She looks up at me and opens her mouth on command, sliding half of my length inside.

As always, she drives me crazy alternating between deep wet sucks and gentle licks of her tongue. The noises…Man, these whimpers and breathy moans make me insane.

I rock my hips, slowly, trying to keep it under control, until her mouth is wrapped tightly around my base, then, I'm a goner. 

My brain is filled with pleasure, so much so that my body almost fails me. Buried in her throat, I go off without thinking. Y/N swallows all my liquid and gives me one final stroke before rising to her feet.

“You did so well, baby,” I said picking her up. Her legs wrapped around my waist, our lips met once again. I kiss her until we're breathless. I carry her to the bed and pull her off her dress just to find out that, fuck me, no bra, just a tiny pantie. 

Our lips were locked again when I advanced on her until she had no choice but to lay down completely. I get on my knees on the bed and bring my hand in between her legs, her hips jerks off the bed as I rub her clit.

“Barely touched you, baby girl,” I said teasing 

I make sure to give her the taste of her own medicine and slowly remove the underwear. I plant wet kisses on her tights and legs before sliding my fingers onto her. My girlfriend squirms against my finger. I add another one curling them both.

Groaning, I get on my knees, spread her legs with my free hand, and bury myself in between her legs. As soon my tongue touches her slit, Y/N moan so loud that was music to my ears. I pump my fingers a couple more times while kissing and sucking her wetness until my dick can’t take it anymore.

“Jay..get inside me.” She begs

“On it ma’am”

With a grin, I guide my cock inside her. Both of us groan when I slide deeper, she wraps her legs around my waist almost like it’s not enough for her. I resist the urge to go fast and keep my movements calm, but again,  Y/N is more needed than usual, her nails dig into my abs giving scratches.

“God, please…” She whines. 

“Someone is with no patience today.” I grow, adjusting my arms on her side, my thrusts are more frantic, she bulks her hips upwards deepening our contact. I grab her hips giving a firm squeeze as I pound onto her. I let go of one of my hands, to stroke her clit, her moans became more breathless and desperate. 

“I’m gonna come.” She cries, without thinking I take my hands out of clit. Remember what I said earlier? With a second she will be begging.

“Please let me come JJ.” Y/N moans just as I predicted.

I rub her clit again and keep my pace fast until I see her shake under me. It takes me a couple more thrusts to release feeling loopy and with my balls still tingling I collapse next to her.

“Holy shit.” She mumbles between her breath.

“You’re so fucking hot, I can’t.” 

“Give me five minutes and I’ll be good for the next one, “ Y/N says chuckling

“Make it ten.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

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[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane’s Pets Chapter 70: Grief

TWs in the tags

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You think that if the nightmares stopped and the brain damage went away, you would be okay.

The days are usually fine. They’ve been getting better. Sometimes you’re so scared that you can barely breathe and you can hear Jane laughing, laughing, laughing, and when Diya and Greg and Barron try to help all you can see is kind strangers gutted in front of you and blended into a smoothie and if you spit it out you’ll have to lick it off the floor.

But that happens less and less. You should be relieved, but you’re not. You don’t know why it got worse so suddenly, and you don’t know why it’s getting better, so it could get ‘scratching your skin off’ bad again and you would have no idea how to make it better. And you have no idea how to prevent it.

The nights have not been getting better. Not for you and not for Diya and Greg and Barron. They’ve been having more nightmares too, undoubtedly because of the stress you’ve been putting them under lately. It’s hard for anyone to feel safe when someone in their house is screaming at all hours of the night.

You hate that you’re making things worse for them. Reminding them of being trapped with the fae or a vampire or… whatever Barron nightmares about.

The book you’ve been reading talks about how the author used lucid dreaming to combat nightmares, so you’ve been trying to lucid dream.

You haven’t been trying as hard as you could be. Writing down your dreams is supposed to help with lucid dreaming, and you’re… not going to do that. You don’t want to think about your nightmares any more than you have to. And with recurring nightmares like you have, it’s supposed to help to rewrite the ending and then visualize the dream with that ending over and over again.

That sounds like torture. You think psychology is wrong on this one.

What you can do is check if you’re dreaming often. In the book, the author describes counting their fingers and checking the time, because those things didn’t work in their dreams. If they couldn’t read the time no matter how long they tried, or if clocks produced nonsense numbers and symbols, they knew they were dreaming. If they had trouble counting their fingers or had a different number of fingers than normal, they knew they were dreaming.

There aren’t clocks in most of your nightmares, but you figure that if the thought “I should check the time to see if I’m dreaming” gets so routine that it’s in your dreams, it will still help you realize your dreaming. Because that’s not a thought you’d have back at the house, where there are no clocks.

You’re not sure if the counting fingers thing will work. Surely the fact that you have 5 fingers on each hand is deeply ingrained enough that it would hold true in a dream. But it worked for the author of the book, so it’s worth a shot.

Diya’s been doing these checks with you, also wanting a way out of the nightmares, though not willing to write them down or dwell on them like the book suggests. Ey’s on the same page as you as far as that goes. The two of you have been trying to figure out other things that would help you figure out you’re in a dream.

“I mean, there’s the phrase that’s like ‘someone pinch me’ when you think you’re dreaming, but… I’ve always been able to feel pain in dreams. Even before all the stuff with Jane happened.”

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s anything that applies to everyone when it comes to this stuff. Maybe we could get in the habit of like, tracing out a word? Since reading is supposed to be hard in dreams, writing should be too, right? And that’s something you can do basically anywhere, so we have something to check even if there’s no clocks or books or whatever in a dream.”

“…That could work. What word?”

“We don’t have to use the same one.”

“Right, right. But what kind of words were you thinking?”

“Just, like, a regular word. Flower or something.”

That works. You trace the word ‘flower’ onto your arm. You can get in the habit of doing that.

“So, we have three ways to test if we’re dreaming.” Diya claps eir hands together. “That should be good. Do you want to go on a walk?”

You nod and let Diya lead you outside and in a random direction. You’re very, very tired, but your head only hurts a little, so overall you’d say you’d feel pretty okay.

You wish Puppy and Kitty were here. You wish you knew their names. For as afraid as you’ve been lately, you know they have it worse, and you’d do almost anything to save them.

“Diya… what if they never agree to let us save them? What do we do then?”

Diya squeezes your hand. “I guess we’d start trying to kill Jane while they were still there.”

“But- but what if she punishes them to get at us? What if she kills them?”

Diya is quiet for a long time. “I don’t know.”

“I know you guys said we can’t help them if they don’t want to be helped. But they /do/, they’re just scared. They want to be saved, I know it, even if they pretend they don’t and- and lash out at people who are trying to help them. So at what point do we just help? Even if they’re pretending they don’t want us to? How long should we wait for them to choose on their own when they don’t have free choice for as long as they live in that fucking house?”

Diya chuckles weakly. “These sound like questions you should ask Barron.”

“I just- we’re supposed to respect their decisions, but- I don’t! They’re brainwashed and scared and I don’t think they can choose for themselves while living with their torturer. We should just take them. Restrain them here if we have to, because it’s better to be restrained here than to be doing anything in that house.”

“It’s… it’s not really about morality.” Diya’s voice is quiet, a big change from normal. “We don’t have the resources to keep two people here who don’t want to be here. Whether it would be right to do that or not. And… you saw what Puppy did to Greg. It’s not her fault, but she is dangerous. We’re willing to take risks to help you guys, but we can’t be reckless. We can’t help at all if we’re dead or too injured to protect you.”

That all makes logical sense. Still, you stop walking, cross your arms and frown. “We can’t just leave them there.”

Diya stops walking too, and faces you. “We’re not. We’re keeping an eye on them. The second they’re ready to leave, we’ll be there.”

That’s not enough. Not anymore. “What if I never see them again?”

“Then you never see them again, and you keep going on anyway.”

“No!” The anger is gone as quickly as it rose. You’re not supposed to say no, Jane doesn’t like it, can’t let you get away with it- “sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You have nothing to be sorry for. I know this is frustrating.”

You cover your face with your hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“

“You’re safe. Come on, take a deep breath. What are five things you can see?”

“Mhm…” You try to breathe. Empty your lungs before taking another breath. You put your hands down. “You- I can see you, and dirt, and my hands, and the sky, and… my clothes.”

“There you go. What are four things you can touch?”

“The ground, um… the air, my clothes, um… you?” You’re asking for permission. Diya nods and envelopes you in a hug.

You rest your head on eir shoulder. Ey doesn’t ask anymore questions and ey doesn’t pull away.

You’re safe. You feel safe.

“I, personally, think your friends just need more time. But I’ve been wrong before, and if you don’t see them again… we’ll be here for you.”

You don’t want to think about that possibility, but it’s comforting to know that in the worst possible ending, you’ll still have people to support you. People who you love and who love you.

After a long, long time, you break the hug. “Let’s go home.” You say, and you and Diya go back to the cabin.

~~

Puppy can’t quite shake the sad mood following her around as she does her chores. She’s in pain and she’s tired and she misses Bunny.

Her attempts to daydream have not been helpful. She can’t stop thinking that Liam and Charlie and this free version of herself are dead.

Gone, gone, gone. Charlie replaced by Kitty, Liam replaced by Bunny, and whoever she used to be replaced with Puppy. She is daydreaming about dead people. People who don’t exist anymore and never will again. Dead.

She didn’t know Charlie very well, before Master had turned them into Kitty. But she knew Liam. He was trusting and loyal and happy. She knows that while she misses Bunny, she is also missing Liam. And Liam won’t come back when Bunny does.

Those thoughts suck the fun out of daydreaming. She just wants to pretend everything’s okay for a while. She doesn’t want to grieve her friends who are, by almost all measures, still alive.

When she finishes her chores, she goes to her room and brushes the fur of all her plushies. She can keep them happy, at least. She can keep them safe and cared for.

But that’s not true, is it? Because Master took her bunny, and Master could be doing absolutely anything to it. She might never get it back.

Someday, she will grieve Bunny and Kitty too, and there won’t be anyone else to take their places.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @fuzzybucketz

[notmuchofatail]

Age: 25 22 20

Birthday: September 1st, 1998

Overview:

Mother: Aubrey Eeyore ( October 25th, 1978 - 45 42 40 )

Father: Alexander Eeyore ( March 3rd, 1975 - 48 45 43 )

Mother’s Occupation: Social Worker

Father’s Occupation: Woodworker/Cabinet-Maker

Family Finances: Lower Middle Class

Other Close Family: Joanne Eeyore - Maternal Grandmother

Pets:  Evie; white dumbo rat. Tucker; Long-haired Dachshund, Rinoa; white dumbo rat, Squall; Black and white dumbo rat, various fish, Esel; black and white dumbo rat (DECEASED),

Home Life During Childhood: Good! Greg’s home life as a kid was very supportive and happy. He loves his mother and his father and grew up in a loving household with a lot to do, and new things to learn every day.

What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like: Cluttered - always has been, and likely always will be. Though as a child, Greg’s room was always filled with stuffed animals - all of which had names and were just as important to him as any other he owned. There were no favorites when it came to his stuffed toys. His room was a soft blue, with an even softer carpet. A bay-style window sat behind his bed and was often the spot where he sat when working on homework or to just watch the sky. He owned large black out curtains, even as a child because thunderstorms terrified him, and that window provided far too much of a view for impending storms and so during bad weather, he kept those curtains closed in an effort to keep as much as the storm away as possible.

Any Sports or Clubs: Gregory never played sports, or...really joined any clubs. His parents tried to get him involved in things a time or two, but anytime they tried? Greg refused to leave their side. Only once did Alex make the mistake of trying to force his son to go to a summer camp and that was... quickly resolved before it became a full on disaster.

Favorite Toy or Game: Didn’t have favorites. He treated them all equally; whether it was trying to squeeze all of them into his bed with him, or taking them out with him on adventures. Whenever one got too old or damaged beyond repair, or even worse was accidentally lost - Gregory was distraught.

Schooling: Gregory hated school. It was scary, too big, too loud and too crowded. Teachers wanted him to talk in front of the entire class, and often when Greg did get the nerve to finally try to play or chat with fellow classmates, they treated him unkindly. He quickly became an outcast throughout his years, and bullying only got worse the older he got. Teasing became hateful words, and hateful words became threats and physical shoves. Never once did Greg say anything, cry in front of, or report any of the people who were mean to him - instead he simply bottled it all up only to be dealt with later when he was alone, and tried his best never to make eye contact with anyone within school.

Despite that - Greg’s grades did remain relatively high, aside from a few slips here and there.

Favorite Subject: Science.

Popular or Loner: Loner.

Nationality: English

Religion and beliefs: Atheist. Christian, but...he isn’t so sure.

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Luke Hemmings

Movie/Era Representation: 2023 Luke Hemmings (but with lip ring) (specifically 2023 Luke at Milan Fashion Show) 2019 Luke Hemmings for Long Hair, 2016 Luke for short (but with lip ring ofc)

Complexion: Fair, but varies; not immune to outbreaks, sun freckles, etc.

Hair Colour: Auburn

Eye Colour: Blue

Height: 6′4 6′1 5′11

Weight: 172lbs 135lbs. 132lbs 

Build: Slim / Athletic Slim/Lanky

Tattoos: Another magical watercolor memorial tattoo for his rat Esel on the same upper shoulder as his hummingbird. A tiny black lineart of a dachshund on his inner left wrist. A small hummingbird on his inner, upper right arm. It’s magical, so it shimmers in iridescent colors like a real hummingbird. None

Piercings: Lip ring, lower left side of lip. (we still going lip-ring strong bois)

Common Hairstyle: Medium length, brushed back.  Medium length and a mess. Short and a mess. Always different, could be spiked, could be flat. He runs his hands through it too much to keep a certain style.

Clothing Style: Casual and dark. Always seems to be wearing dark jeans with dark shirts (black, commonly) and sneakers. Most comfortable just wearing hoodies. Also not really a man to wear shorts. Will always have his mother’s pink bow pinned to a belt loop hidden beneath his shirt.

Mannerisms: Obviously checks surroundings. Leg bounce when sitting and uncomfortable only. He’s less outwardly anxious these days.  Bites his lip quite often and tends to fidget in general. He struggles to stand still and will shift his spot, bounce his knee, tap something, etc. He’s anxious and it’s obvious.

Usual Expression: (this still tracks tbh)(he has rbf) 

Health

Overall (do they get sick easily)?: Greg is less prone to getting sick. He’s much healthier these days (actually eats well (amount wise) in comparison, exercises passively, and takes better care of himself. He’s started taking vitamin supplements to help with the vegan diet, and drinks protein shakes.  Greg’s prone to getting sick. He’s underweight and doesn’t eat as much as he should nor does he get the proper amount of vitamins and proteins he should. Though when he does eat, he eats well (Vegan diet + doesn’t load up on a lot of ‘junk food’) but it still isn’t enough to offset the lack of nutrition he receives.

Physical Ailments: Occasional Stiffness / Muscle tightness in his abdomen from the stabbings. None? (I’ll have to come back to this)

Disorders : PTSD, anxiety (generalized), depression, insomnia. (All Diagnosed undiagnosed)

Neurological Conditions: None.

Allergies: Nickel, Shellfish

Grooming Habits: He showers and styles his hair, will actually put products in his hair and attempt to make himself look more presentable. He also does have a very lowkey face routine. Still likes to keep a short stubble. He showers and runs a comb through his hair. He doesn’t do anything like... extra like moisturize or do face masks or anything. He’ll shave now only if anything goes above a short stubble. Otherwise he tends to keep the minimal scruff look. Doesn’t exactly shave because there’s really nothing to shave.

Sleeping Habits: Will sleep best with people nearby. Whenever Zero sleeps over, he has been sleeping pretty soundly. He’s still not immune to difficulties falling asleep or the occasional nightmare, but it’s easier for him now that he has someone who also is a night person. He’s kind of just adjusted his sleep schedule a bit to better suit what he can work with. Not the best. He suffers from insomnia atop his anxiety and depression and has always been an incredibly light sleeper. This has just gotten worse. 

Eating Habits: Has begun to get up and eat a small breakfast (usually fruit or a shake), and will have a period snack through the day as he’s working. He now tends to have a dinner almost every night. Mostly from Zero/Ian holding him accountable long enough that it’s starting to become habit and less of something he forgets to do. Also not the best in terms of doing it. He tends to forget to eat or just.. not eat for periods of time until someone puts food in front of him (usually his parents). Also gotten worse. 

Exercise Habits: Walks everywhere, works with the dogs, works on the Moon Farm, lifts a lot of heavy weight (grain / food / dogs / animals /etc). Will randomly do static stretching to help with his joints/back bc being all limbs hurts sometimes. Walks a lot but doesn’t exclusively go out of his way to exercise.

Emotional Stability: Stable. He’s more prone to blinking off harsh comments or annoyances, or just staring someone down rather than saying anything. However if he gets worked up enough, he will not hesitate to jump in. He’s sensitive and can cry at the raise of a voice and also has a temper that flairs up in the face of injustice or unkindness. It’s also gotten kinda worse. 

Body Temperature: Runs slightly warm.

Sociability: Professionally. He puts on a great act of being a social person for the business. Personally he tends to avoid a lot of social events because he does not enjoy them. He’d rather small gatherings with people he trusts. Not a lot. Would much rather isolate himself in his room for days on end.

// TW; SELF HARM //

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

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

Addictions:  Clean for 6 months. Self harm/cutting. (Getting worse again)

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

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

// TW; SELF HARM // 

 // TW; DRUG USE // 

Drug Use: Casually. Now smokes weed pretty often, usually at night. Is also known to take pills. Will sometimes also partake in harder substances (cocaine) but very rare. Unknowingly uses cannabis in the edible form. Still. Somehow.

Alcohol Use: Rare / Socially. 

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits: Lack of filter. Staring/Glaring openly. Backing out of plans. Procrastination. Taking things too much to heart, picking at his nails, biting his lips, backing out of plans, procrastination. 

Good Habits: Standing up for others. Offering to help, cleaning up after himself and others, loyalty, kindness. 

Best Characteristic: Kindness. 

Worst Characteristic: Attitude. 

Worst Memory(s): Going no-contact with his family. The Gala. Getting stabbed & left for dead by Pearl. Esel Dying. The Hunger Games Dream & The Titanic Dream 

Best Memory: Falling in love with Zero. Adopting his rats/dog. 

Proud of: Letting himself love again. Selling his first needle-felt project. Not a lot, honestly. If someone were to ask Greg what he was proud of it’d never be something directly correlated to himself. He’s proud of his parents. Proud of other people’s accomplishments. Proud of his rats, his dog. But is he proud of himself? Proud of a project he’s done, or for standing up for himself or for getting a new job? No. Never.

Embarrassed by: His poor choices. Literally everything. Notable examples are: just being on the board, every time he talks to someone. Every day at his job. Being stabbed. Being in the hospital. Being alive. 

Driving Style: Does not drive.

Strong Points: His loyalty and passion. His ability to stand up for what is right. 

Temperament: Neutral. He’s got big emotions, but he knows how to keep them in check better. Easy to upset, reclusive and isolated. 

Attitude: Realistic.  Pessimistic

Weakness: His inability to believe in himself and his abilities. 

Fears: Zero leaving / getting hurt. Isolation, disappointment, hurting others, failure, drowning, thunderstorms, knives, being hurt, Pearl, animals being harmed. 

Phobias:  Public Speaking, being abandoned, being left for dead, being trapped. 

Secrets: A lot. 

Regrets: Not talking to his parents anymore. Joining the Board, going to that mixer event, leaving his house like... ever. Literally everything.

Feels Vulnerable When: He talks about himself, his choices and the future. All the time. Every waking second. 

Pet Peeves: Ignorance, arrogance, treating an animal unkindly, being unkind in general, bullying people, making fun of things people have no control over, chewing with your mouth open, being loud, being on the phone in line or while doing things. 

Conflicts: Desire and motivation. Desire and fear. 

Motivation: Fear of failure. 

Short Term Goals and Hopes: Better himself. Stay on track and make things right. Kick his drug habit, stay open and honest with Zero and reconcile with his parents.  .....don’t...die? Or..do die. To die or not to die, that is the question. (Don’t die). maybe...go back to school?? Don’t let Ruff to Fluff go under?? Find a new owner?? Quit the Board? Flee the country? Don’t die and graduate Uni. (Completed - barely)

Long Term Goals and Hopes: Explore opportunities to further help animals and conservation. Find jobs in the field in Swynlake and out. Be with Zero. Don’t die and work with animals. Preferably not in Swynlake at this point. 

Sexuality: Demisexual. Bisexual

Exercise Routine: Greg doesn’t really have an exercise routine. He doesn’t go to the gym or set out to exercise, nor does he ever really play sports or anything of the sort. However, he walks a lot. He walks all through town, walks to and around the forest and the lake. He’s very active for the most part. He also gets a lot of strength/lifting through his job. He’s not lacking muscles.  Though he can just as easily not get up from the couch or his bed for hours on end.

Day or Night Person: No preference. Because of his inability to sleep, his restlessness and his anxiety, Greg can be up at five in the morning just as easily as he can be up at three in the morning. He is equally productive if he chooses to be at any hour and doesn’t really have a ‘prime time’ to get work done.

Introvert or Extrovert: Introvert x2

Optimist or Pessimist: Realist. Pessimist x2

Likes and Styles:

Music: Greg just likes...a lot of music. He probably has a song that he likes from every genre. He just likes music. 

Books: Like all books, but he’s a fan of animal related ones and fiction books. 

Magazines: Doesn’t read magazines. 

Foods: Vegan comfort foods. Specifically from local restaurants when he can find them, but his favorite favorite is the stuff his mother makes. He’s also become far better at cooking for himself. Some of his other favorite dishes are things that Eomma has learned to make for him as well. The taste is amazing, but the kindness of going out of her way to make things that conflict with her family’s diet makes it that much sweeter. 

Drinks: He’s a fan of tea. Iced and hot. The coffee Pip makes him. Somehow it always tastes better. 

Animals: All of the above.

Sports: None of the above.

Social Issues: Animal Activist, Women’s Rights, Magick Rights - Currently questioning (?)(...yeah still is) 

Favorite Saying: The optimist proclaims that we live in the best of all possible worlds; and the pessimist fears this is true.

Color: Pink.

Clothing: Jeans and jackets (pleather/denim). Pleather pants. Nice button up. Silk shirts. Sweatshirts. Comfy clothes. Sweats. Baggy, casual clothes. Jeans and sweatshirts. Sweatpants and T-shirts. Pajamas

Jewelry: Lip-ring. Sometimes a necklace. 

Games:  Isn’t really too big into gaming at the moment. Fall Guys. Among Us, The Sims, NintenDogs, Pokemon / Pokemon Go, Skyrim, Minecraft, Animal Crossing. 

Websites: Youtube, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Netflix, Hulu

TV Shows: Crikey! It’s the Irwins, Tanked, Big Cat Diary, Meerkat Manor, Planet Earth, The Little Zoo That Could, Impractical Jokers, CSI 

Movies: A Dog’s Purpose, Eight Below, Because of Winn-Dixie, Jurassic Park, Fluke. 

Greatest Want: To be loved.

Greatest Need: ....to be accepted.

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home: In the flat above Ruff to Fluff.  Same home he’s always lived in.

Household furnishings: See THIS POST for his flat. See THIS POST for his house. 

Favorite Possession:  His mother’s pink bow. 

Most Cherished Possession: The sapling in Enchantra. His mother’s pink bow. 

Neighborhood: Southern Swynlake. Tortuga

Town or City Name: Swynlake

Relationship with Family: Currently on no-contact with everyone but his grandmother. So it’s very strained, all stemming from an argument that Gregory had with them over his well-being. Still great! He loves his family very much and they love him too. 

Car: Doesn’t have one

Career: Owner at Ruff to Fluff Grooming (Groomer/Kennel Work/Rehabilitation), Certified Wildlife Rehabilitator, Swynlake Board Member

Dream Career: Wildlife Rehabilitation 

Dream Life: Working with animals, able to watch his friends be happy and have their own families while he shares his forever with Zero.  Being happy (lol)

Love Life: Zero.  None. Just casual crushes currently. Loves Diablo 

Talents or Skills: If you ask him? None. In reality - Needle Felting, crafting, photography, baking, animal care/training, singing.

Intelligence Level: Educated

Finances: Middle Class Personally poor, family wise middle class. 

Past Careers: Board Member, Part-time Book-keep at Chapter Three, Dishwasher at Gustau’s. 

Past Lovers: Tito. Diablo. None

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Grays

Frankie Morales x f!reader

{ Grays Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Grays Part II }

Rating: M

Summary: Frankie wants you to cover up his grays. You want to knock some sense into his salt-and-pepper head.

Warnings: Insecure Frankie in need of self-love comes with his own warning, Reader is a hairstylist and has a related nickname, no physical descriptions other than that Reader has hair that can be dyed, not-quite-friends to *respectfully looking* dynamics, mentions of hair, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, sexual innuendos, lots of teasing and banter.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: The origin story is here if you missed it. This is dedicated to my Frankie soul sister LJ @prolix-yuy who encouraged me to write this many months ago ❤️ As always, I’m an anxious mess writing for a new-to-me Pedro boy, so please be gentle with me (cos it's my birthday week) 🥺

I have a part 2 (with smut) in mind. I love where this leaves off, but who am I kidding. I probably won’t be able to help myself 😂

The bell on the door chimes with a sweet tinkle, cutting through the low, insistent purr of the hair clipper buzzing in your grasp. You don’t look up as you spy broad shoulders and a battered Standard Heating Oil cap crossing the threshold out of the corner of your eye.

‘Are you lost, Morales?’ you drawl indifferently, focused on the task at hand. ‘I have an appointment with Pope today, not you.’

‘He booked it under his name. Thought you’d take it as a prank if I called in myself.’

You look up to meet his gaze reflected in the mirror sitting in front of Greg, your current customer. ‘I wonder why he’d think that.’

Frankie shrugs, leaning against the reception counter with his arms crossed. ‘Beats me.’

You snort. ‘Really? You’ve insisted loudly and repeatedly for as long as I’ve known you that you don’t see the point of going to a hairstylist when you can have Pope cut your hair with kitchen scissors in his bathtub.’

‘C’mon, Shiv.’

‘Oh, he knows my name,’ you gasp sarcastically. You turn to Greg, who’s clearly amused by this exchange, and loop him in. ‘He usually just grunts at me.’

At this point, Ashton - your apprentice and all-round salon maverick - makes an appearance. Clearly having caught the tail-end of your conversation with Frankie, he glances between the two of you with an arched eyebrow. ‘Are we back to chasing customers away, boss?’

‘Sit his ass down but he doesn’t get a free drink,’ you instruct. ‘I’ll get to him when I get to him.’

Ashton goes ahead and ignores your orders point blank, per usual. After hanging up Frankie’s jacket and settling him at the station furthest away from you in the far corner of the salon, you see him sneakily give him a coffee. He can never resist the handsome ones.

You take your sweet time with Greg, cleaning up his sideburns, even though you’re basically done with him - just to tick off your waiting customer.

Not that it works, and you know it won’t. He just sits there, his wide frame filling up the chair, still as a rock. The dog-eared, months-old magazines strategically placed on the table for idle reading lie untouched. That’s Francisco Morales for you.

You’ve been orbiting each other since sixth grade, as all kids in your close-knit neighbourhood do. In fact, most of your customers went to your school. 

You don’t even remember how it started - probably at a sleepover - you discovered one day that you’re handy with box hair dye. By freshman year, you were colouring your fellow classmates’ hair in the girls’ toilets after school, earning enough pocket money to keep your cabinet at home fully-stocked with new hair products on rotation.

Your ever-changing hair colour got you into trouble with the headmaster more times than you can count, who nicknamed you Shape Shifter. Your friends abbreviated it to Shifter, then over the years, whittled it down to Shiv, and it stuck.

After being gifted a set of styling scissors for Christmas one year, you started hanging out at the neighbourhood salon, hustling for an apprenticeship. You practised what you observed on your fellow students, giving out haircuts on the bleachers on non-game days for a couple of dollars (the fee waived if something went disastrously wrong).

That’s how you first met Benny - his then cheerleader girlfriend took him in for a haircut when it got too long for her liking. When you eventually opened your own salon years later, he was your first paying customer, having come home after being honourably discharged from the army.

During the early days, when you struggled to fill your appointments and he couldn’t win a fight to save his life, you made a pact. You would do his hair at a heavy discount for his posters and promotions, and in return, he would let you use his photos for the salon’s marketing.

And it worked. Well, not that you had anything to do with him turning his fortunes around on the MMA circuit, but he had everything to do with getting customers through your door. It only got busier when Santi joined the ranks a couple of years later, and even though Will only shows up when his hair gets really unruly, they both sit in front of your camera with no complaint in return for mate’s rates.

Having these guys on your salon’s social media keeps both the gents and the ladies booking up your appointments.

Frankie Morales, though, is a different animal.

When you finally appear over his left shoulder, his coffee is all gone and he meets your eyes in the mirror nonchalantly. He’s leaning his whole weight on his right elbow on the armest, his left arm outstretched and blunt nails tapping on the table, the only hint of impatience he’s giving away.

He’s good at that - he’s the laid-back one out of the boys, the one who hangs back and observes with arms crossed, but quick to crack a grin and throw in a wicked barb when the occasion calls for it. Nothing ever seems to faze him, and probably nothing does - you hear that makes a good pilot, and from what Pope lets on, he’s a damn good one.

It also makes for highly effective bait for the ladies. He’s a popular fixture on the local bar scene - let’s face it, all of the boys are. You’ve seen him in action more than once when Benny or Pope invites you along on a night out, more often than not without Will since he had a baby girl with his high school sweetheart last year. Frankie’s brooding, quiet, beer-sipping act often works better than Benny’s over-the-top flirting or Pope’s Casanova bit.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Hands on your hips, you goad him, ‘Alright Morales, how do I know you’ll pay up, you cheap bastard?’

‘Pope says to put it on his tab.’

‘Music to my ears.’ You tap him on the shoulder. ‘Sit up and off with the cap.’

With a grumble, Frankie lifts the cap up by the beak, ducking his head as he does so. He tosses it onto the table offhandedly and shifts in his seat, but you’re not fooled by his unconvincing air of indifference. From the way he plasters his palms to the top of his denim-clad thighs, as if to stop them from fidgeting, you know he’s feeling vulnerable. 

You can’t say you’ve ever seen Frankie without his headgear - now that you think about it, he’s been wearing it since high school. Heck, he might have gone through several incarnations of that blasted hat in the years in between. You’ve caught glimpses when he lifts it up to fix his hair, but otherwise, all you see is what peeks out from underneath, the longer wisps that coil around his ears and the curls at the back. 

As it turns out, there’s really nothing to hide - sure, the cut is blunt and his hair lacks shine, but both can be easily fixed. You step into his space and comb through his locks, starting at the base of his skull and working your way up the sides. 

The contact startles him - he practically jumps out of his skin, and you don’t miss the way the veins on the back of his hands pop and he digs his nails into his legs.

'Easy, boy,' you soothe with a teasing undertone, earning yourself a glower from the pilot. As much as you enjoy needling him, you do want your customers to be comfortable. So you let slip a deliberate but genuinely appreciative hum as the dark tendrils, subtly tinged with grays, part softly at your prying fingertips. ‘Wow, your curls are really thick.'

He looks up, an unsure frown on his brow. ‘Oh. Is that bad?’

‘No, Morales, it’s definitely a compliment,’ you tell him encouragingly - your bark has always been worse than your bite. ‘What do you use to wash your hair? It’s a bit dry.’

He shrugs. ‘Shampoo.’ At your insistent stare, he snaps, ‘What?’

‘Don’t lie to me, Morales,’ you warn him in a stern voice.

He huffs and gives in. ‘Fine. It’s a 2-in-1 body wash. I get it at the gas station, happy?’

You shoot him a smug grin as he rolls his eyes. ‘Well, you’re using proper shampoo from now on, and conditioner.’ He opens his mouth, a complaint on the tip of his tongue, when you hold a finger up at him. ‘Don’t argue with me, mister. I’ll throw in a couple of bottles on the house to get you started.’

‘Fine,’ he concedes. Unfailingly polite even when grumpy, he adds, ‘Thanks, Shiv.’

Your trusty swivelling stool screeches in protest when you drag it over on its wheels, before you take a seat and address the elephant in the room. ‘So - I’m guessing you’re here because of the wedding.’

You get a grunt in response. Scratching a particularly scrappy patch of his beard that has turned prematurely silver, he says, ‘My ma says I should cover up my old man grays for it.’

You snort, shaking your head. ‘Ha! And you tell your mother I say - hell no, ma’am! I will do no such thing.’

Frankie blinks at your unexpectedly adamant response. ‘What?’

‘I said, hell no,’ you repeat. Turning his head to the side with two fingers on his stubbled cheek, you comb his locks upwards to study the way the grays blend in softly with the umber, matching the ashen flecks in his beard. He doesn't start as badly at your touch this time, but there’s a telltale tick in his jaw, and you can almost hear the tension that thrums just below his skin where a late summer tan still lingers.

‘See how your grays are mainly coming out on the underside?’ you point out. ‘I like the way they just peek through the brown, it gives more depth to your curls. Natural highlights, if you will.’

He looks unconvinced and swipes at a smattering of silver with dismissive fingers. ‘Dunno. Thought the grays make me look old.’

You chuckle. ‘You’re no spring chicken anymore, Morales, and I mean it in a good way. Grays are natural - they will look even better when you start using actual shampoo and conditioner. Trust me, the salt and pepper works on you. I’m not dyeing your grays, and that’s that.’

For the first time today, Frankie turns his head and looks directly into your eyes. ‘My mother’s coming back to town for the wedding, you know. And she remembers where you live.’

You laugh. ‘Go ahead and send her my way, you know I’m not scared of her.’

He scoffs at your big talk. ‘You should be.’

Your relationship with the Morales matriarch is complicated, to say the least. She was always hard on you when you were a kid, thinking you were too wild and undisciplined. Now that you’re grown, you’re still torn between your admiration for her as a single mother who raised a good man, and the woman who never tires of dishing out criticism, warranted or not.

You give him a reassuring pat on the back, solid and warm under your touch. ‘Leave your mother to me, Morales. The grays stay, and I’ll make sure you steal the show at the party.’

‘Your funeral,’ he quips.

‘You just worry about getting yourself to the wedding,’ you retort, cracking your knuckles. ‘Now, are you ready for some pampering?’

Frankie rolls his eyes, but you see the corner of his mouth tick up in a vaguely upward direction - and you take it as a win.

‘Relax, Morales.’

‘I am relaxed,’ he insists through gritted teeth.

‘You’re about as relaxed as a cow on the butcher’s block. Unclench.’

For someone as economical with words as he is, his body certainly says a lot. Every single part of him seems hellbent on making his discomfort known. He breathes a frustrated exhale through his nose, brow deeply furrowed, his glare burning holes into the ceiling.

The leather seat of the backwash barely contains his tall build, his t-shirt stretched to the seams across his chest as he leans back into the basin. He’s bouncing his left leg irritably, the tight denim straining against his lap.

You try - valiantly - not to gape too obviously at the conspicuous bulge nestled snugly between his thighs under his belt buckle. But you can’t avert your eyes from something of that size. It’s against the laws of physics. Or something.

Even from where you’re standing, at the top of the basin peering down the slope of his body, its heft is clearly testing the structural integrity of the zipper of his jeans. Imagine the view from the other side -

Clearing your throat, you bodily press down on Frankie’s shoulders which are coiled up like the hood of an angry python, forcing them to loosen up. He jerks as if he’s a copper wire and you’re electricity. You tease, ‘So sensitive. You act like you’ve never felt a woman’s touch before, Morales.’

‘You know that’s not true,’ he growls at you, the prominent vein in his neck starting to pulse in frustration.

‘No, you’re right - I do know,’ you smirk, dragging out your syllables.

Your tone has him frowning at you, upside down. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean - I know,’ you repeat with a conspiratorial wink.

He narrows his eyes at you. ‘What do you know, Shiv?’

You wriggle his eyebrows at him suggestively, enjoying yourself far too much. ‘I own a salon, Morales. I hear things from the ladies about town.’

One large palm reaches up to shield his face in embarrassment, a pained groan escaping between the gaps of his fingers. ‘For fuck’s sake - kill me now.’

You laugh, wrestling his hand from his face to with an impish grin. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve only heard good things so far - Frankie big boy Morales.’

He blushes so hard that his ears and neck go a livid red, and for a minute, you’re actually worried that he’d pass out from not enough blood reaching his heart. Not keen on the prospect of having to explain to the emergency services that you teased the poor man into an aneurysm, you turn on the water and cut short your little chinwag with a good-natured chuckle. 

His hands are still tightly clamped around the armrest when you carefully run the shower head along his hairline and behind his ears, soaking his curls. His biceps flex from the tight grip and the lean muscles strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. 

At least he closes his eyes when you start with the shampoo. The velvety lather froths as you patiently wash his hair, which clings to his wet curls like vanilla frosting. The deep crease between his brows eases with each gentle swipe into his locks, and the invisible force pulling his lips downwards slackens. By the time you rinse out the bubbles, you don’t miss the way the tension in his body unwittingly goes with it down the drain.

When your nails slide slickly into his hair with the conditioner, his stubborn body finally, slowly unfurls. His head tips back of its own accord, baring the column of his strong neck as he leans inadvertently into your touch. Colour returns to his knuckles when he releases his death grip on the backwash. 

You smile to yourself, scraping your fingertips along his scalp in a firm massage, watching his chest rise and fall as he teeters on the brink of consciousness.

As your thumbs trace a confident path down the back of his skull, they appear to find a particularly sensitive spot near the base of his neck, and it's as if a switch is flipped. You witness the exact moment he breaks - his back arches off the leather seat, his obstinate lips part with a strangled half-sigh catching in his throat as he yields his full weight into the palm of your hands.

If you're not careful, you could get used to this.

‘Still with me, Morales?’ you tease quietly.

He garbles incoherently, and you grin.

Frankie practically molds into the chair like warm wax when you shepherd him back to the styling station. You’re so chuffed with yourself that you don’t even feel the need to gloat at the way his eyes are glazed over and how his head lolls into the soft pressure when you run a fluffy towel through his hair. The man recoiling at the mere brush of your fingers a distant memory.

You run an assessing eye over him, brushing out his locks to gauge your game plan. ‘I like this length on you, so I’ll just trim the split ends and tidy up your sideburns. You’ll benefit from some layering too - it’s a bit heavy on top right now.’

From the way he blinks owlishly at you, you know he doesn’t catch a single word. He shrugs and says matter-of-factly. ‘You can’t do worse than Pope.’

The salon is quiet this afternoon, as it tends to be on Wednesdays. You let him enjoy the peace for a little bit and tap your foot to Ashton’s playlist as your styling scissors move over his curls in metallic snips.

‘Tip your head forward for me,’ you instruct, sliding around the back of his head on your wheels as you probe, ‘So - how are you feeling about the wedding?’

The fabric of his t-shirt bunches over his shoulders as they quirk noncommittally.

‘It’s just a few days away.’

He makes an indifferent noise. But you’re not so easily dissuaded from conversation, and he knows it.

‘Can’t be easy - watching your ex get married.’

Frankie pins you with a long-suffering stare in the mirror. ‘We broke up a year ago.’

Getting onto your feet, you ruffle your fingers through the crown of his curls. ‘Yeah, but you dated for years. She sure moved on quick.’

He huffs a sardonic laugh. ‘Thanks, Shiv.’

Swapping out the styling scissors for blending shears, you argue, ‘What? It’s a legitimate observation. I’m just making conversation here.’

‘Or we could just sit here quietly.’

Ha. As if you ever listen to him. You press on, ‘Why did she invite you anyway?’

Frankie’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender as he humours you. ‘It’s a damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t kind of situation, I guess. The whole town’s invited.’

‘You sure she isn’t trying to flaunt it in your face or something?’

‘Flaunting implies I still care. I don’t.’

You give him a juvenile nudge nudge, wink wink. ‘Well, on the bright side, you’ll definitely get laid, being the heartbroken ex and all. Chicks love that shit.’

He dispatches a side-long stare in your direction. ‘I’m not heartbroken, and that’s not why I’m going. And you know none of this is any of your business, right?’

‘You’re no fun,’ you pout.

He quips, ‘As a professional hairstylist, you really should be better at making polite conversation.’

You snort. ‘Do you really think it’s a good idea to call me rude when I have scissors in my hands?’

Frankie watches you work in the comfortable lull that’s settled between you, gliding the blades along strands of his curls pulled taut, before running a fine-toothed comb through to brush out the loose tufts. Soft coils land on the floor around his chair as you work your way methodically through his layers.

‘Are you going to the wedding?’ he asks eventually.

You shrug. ‘Maybe, depends on my schedule. I gotta say, I’m kind of curious to see how tacky it will be.’

At his eyebrow sternly cocked, you argue, ‘I know she’s your ex and all, but she’s always been a bit tacky. I mean, that remodel of your house was just tragic.’

Frankie frowns. ‘How do you know all this? You’ve never been to my house.’

You wink. ‘Benny tells me everything when I do his hair.’

He pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Of course. Benjamin fucking Miller.’

You give him a pat on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I’m on your side, if it helps.’

‘I don’t need you on my side.’

You flash him an insufferable grin. ‘Too bad, Francisco. I am and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

The hairdryer drowns out any further conversation, and Frankie quietly studies you as you cord your fingers through his hair, ruffling it as it dries.

It’s still a bit damp when you switch off the hairdryer and reach up to pull a couple of jars from the shelf above. ‘On the day of the wedding, I want you to wash your hair just before you style it. You have a hairdryer at home, right?’

He throws you a pointed look. ‘I’m not a heathen.’

You grin. ‘Down boy, just checking. Now, you’ll dry your hair until it’s still a bit wet, like so.’ Presenting the styling mousse to him, you say, ‘Then go on and grab some product - you only need a dollop.’

He dips his index finger into the pot, scooping up a generous blob. Your attention is unexpectedly piqued at the sight of his hands. 

Have they always been so big?

Realising he’s staring at you in wait, you shake yourself out of it. ‘Ok, rub the mousse onto your fingertips and run them all over your hair, combing from root to end.’

Frankie does as he’s told, face set to a serious scowl as he impeccably goes over each section of his locks, staring into the mirror to make sure he gets every strand. For the first time, you see the pilot in him up close, and you wonder if he’s this thorough about other things, like -

Laundry, your mind interrupts as it careens on the brink of the metaphorical gutter. Get your shit together, Shiv.

‘Good,’ you smile when he’s done, hoping he doesn't see the strain in it. ‘Now, I want you to rake your fingers through the roots when you dry your hair all the way.’ In demonstration, your nails burrow into the base of his thick hair, then you wriggle your fingers upwards towards the ends. ‘It will give you lots of volume and really show off this cut.’

Passing him the hairdryer, you watch him critically in the mirror. He imitates your movements, a bit clumsily and far too cautiously. Leaning down to his ear so he can hear you over the whir, you instruct him, ‘Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.’

He chokes and pins you with a wide-eyed stare in the mirror that glances right off your oblivious self. Along with your words, nothing about this exchange would register in your head in any other way until much, much later tonight, when you replay the conversation in your head in that limbo between sleep and wakefulness. 

It may or may not have you squealing into your pillow in latent embarrassment - and something else.

But for now, you’re happy with the way his hair has set, and you gesture for him to switch off the hairdryer. Turning his chair towards you and away from the mirror, you scan your eyes over him and make small adjustments - tucking a couple of strands behind his ear here, a couple of final snips there. 

As a final touch, you bury your fingers into his locks, dragging your fingertips through the roots to impart a final tousle so that the curls are loose and soft. You preen at the way he sways into your contact, all shyness gone, his hooded eyes half-closed - before he seems to catch himself and sits up with a self-conscious ahem.

Grabbing a small bottle from the shelf, you say, ‘Last thing - your beard is a bit dry as well. This oil will keep it nice and moisturised, just two or three drops after you wash up in the morning will do.’

Tipping his face up by the crook of your finger and opening up his neck to you, you smooth the ointment along both sides of his jaw, rubbing circles into his neatly trimmed whiskers and all the way up his sideburns. Sliding downwards, your hands seek out the closely shaved stubble tucked beneath his chin. Then, by sheer momentum, your palms continue down his throat in a slow, sticky descent, until the pads of your thumbs slot into the hollow between his collarbones, your fingers resting at the base of his neck where you feel his pulse rabbiting underneath. 

The air thickens and shifts between you. When he swallows, you feel the ripple of the moment against your fingertips. 

His eyes are on you, and suddenly he’s too close, his skin too hot under your hands. To your horror, something akin to shyness rears its head and you almost stumble backwards to put a safe distance between you.

Scrubbing the oily residue from your hands on a towel, you break the moment with a wink and a steadier smile than you actually feel. ‘You look good, Morales. Ready to take a look?’

‘As if you would take no for an answer,’ he mumbles under his breath. Fondness might be too strong of a word - but you don't think you're imagining the faint trace of amusement in his voice.

With a dramatic ta-da, you spin his chair around with a flourish.

Frankie Morales is obviously not a vain man - he most likely owns five pairs of jeans that he’s worn on rotation for the past fifteen years, his t-shirts are washed ragged, and his trusty leather boots have seen better days. He probably doesn’t use a mirror other than for purely utilitarian purposes, like checking if there’s something stuck in his teeth from his last meal.

But right now, by the way he’s holding his breath as he meets his own eyes in the reflection, you can tell that he’s really looking at himself for the first time in a long while. 

You pretend to busy yourself with tidying up the styling station as you discreetly sneak glances at him, feeling strangely bashful for intruding in this moment. When he remembers to breathe again, he tilts his head left then to the right, and back again, even swivelling his chair from side to side so he can peer round the back.

You’ve parted his waves to the side, the lighter cut allowing his curls to carry their natural shape. The healthy sheen, courtesy of the mousse, tempers his grays to a softer, burnt silver that catches the light fetchingly as he moves. Reaching up, Frankie pushes back a stray curl that falls over his eyes, and his back straightens in a quiet show of confidence.

Running a salon is hard work and often thankless. But on days like this? You know you’re meant to do this.

A dramatic gasp draws both of your attention. Ashton is clutching at his chest, backed up against the neighbouring styling station, gaping at Frankie. ‘Mister - you look good enough to devour. Look at that salt and pepper, I’m living for the grays. Doing the Lord’s work, Shiv!’

You laugh as Frankie flushes, scratching an invisible itch on his forehead. You brush the loose hairs off his shoulders with a towel and give him a nudge. ‘See? I’m not the only one who thinks you look good with the grays. You better stock up on the condoms, Morales, the ladies will be all over you at the party.’

He shakes his head self-deprecatingly as he stands up, rubbing his palms on his jeans, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. ‘I doubt it, but - thanks. I appreciate this, Shiv.’

He shrugs on his well-loved burnt yellow jacket, the one with the sleeves perpetually folded up above his wrists and grabs his cap. You hold out a paper bag with the free shampoo and conditioner you promised him, throwing in a jar of hair mousse for good measure. ‘You’re welcome, and you better not put your hat on again this afternoon after all that hard work.’

His fingers brush yours when he takes the bag from you, then, as if it’s the logical next thing to do, he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your right cheek, his stubble coarse against your skin - and you know without looking it’s the gray patch in his beard that brushes against your jaw as he draws back. You fumble, feeling heat prickle the back of your neck and blooming in your rib cage. 

He flashes you the most self-assured smile you’ve seen on him this afternoon, which has you biting your bottom lip. ‘I won’t. Maybe see you at the wedding, Shiv.’

It takes you five full seconds to regain motor functions. By the time you unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, Frankie’s already out of the door with a spring in his step.

In companionable silence, you and Ashton watch the pilot strut - because that’s what he’s doing, he’s strutting with a confidence that becomes him - across the road through the glass front of the salon.

‘What a dish,’ Ashton sighs dreamily, flopping into a chair as if his limbs have given out. ‘I hope he comes back soon.’

You smile. A girl could always hope.

Notes: It's the first time I'm using a nickname for a Reader, but I have a real soft spot for Shiv, and I think she deserves one. I'm not sure where the fandom stands on this, does it disqualify the fic as a reader insert? If anyone has an issue with this, please let me know! For me, Shiv has no physical descriptions so to me she's still a reader insert.

I don't know if anyone expected this kind of dynamics between these two, but it's been so much fun to write with a bit of antagonism in the mix. I hope you enjoyed this, reblogs and comments are so, so appreciated as always. Thank you for reading ❤️

[storiesforallfandoms]

the girl next door ~ rodrick heffley;diary of a wimpy kid

word count: 1675

request?: yes!

waaaavyguurl “hey! could you do a rodrick heffley imagine where in rodrick rules the fem!reader has just moved in a house next to the heffley’s and she’s in maths class with rodrick. she’s kinda a genius, so he asks her to help him with hw and they start dating ?? maybe with an insert of greg who understands they’re together when he sees them dancing at the party ?? thank u <3″

description: in which rodrick falls for the smart girl next door

pairing: rodrick heffley x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

His mother had been adamant about the entire Heffley family going to greet their new neighbors just a day after they moved in. Susan spent the whole night making brownies, with Manny’s “help”, and had them boxed up and ready to go the next morning.

“What if they’re allergic to brownies?” Greg asked after Frank had to literally drag him out of bed.

“They’re made from scratch, so the only allergies in it are dairy and gluten,” Susan responded.

“Why couldn’t this have waited till tonight?” Rodrick groaned. “Give them some time to breathe before we scare them off.”

“If we wait too long we’ll look like rude neighbors!”

Rodrick rolled his eyes. He was sure none of the other people on the block had went to meet the new neighbors yet, but there was no talking Susan Heffley out of something once she set her mind to it.

She made the boys dress up in their nicest clothes, which for Rodrick was a pair of jeans without holes in them and a plain black t-shirt, before they made their way across the street. Rodrick let out an annoyed sigh as Susan knocked on the door and they waited.

A girl that looked about Rodrick’s age answered the door. Rodrick couldn’t help but stand up a little straighter as her eyes wandered over the family before her. “Uh...hi?”

“Hello!” Susan greeted. “We’re the Heffleys; I’m Susan, this is my husband, Frank, and my boys, Manny, Greg, and Rodrick. We just wanted to come over and welcome you and your parents to the neighborhood with some homemade brownies!”

“Nice to meet you,” the young girl greeted. “I’m (Y/N). You guys actually just missed my parents. They both work morning shifts, they won’t be home until sometime this evening.”

Rodrick held back his desire to tell his mother “I told you so”.

“Wait, so you’re here by yourself?” Greg asked. “That’s so cool!”

(Y/N) chuckled. “I appreciate the gesture none the less, and my parents will, too. I’ll tell them you stopped by, they’ll probably invite you guys back for dinner sometime.”

“That’d be great!” Susan said. “We’ll wait for your call!”

Greg and Manny were the first to break away from their parents, excitedly running back to the house to play video games and watch cartoons like they normally did on a weekend morning. Susan chased after Manny, telling him not to run across the street without her, while Frank just silently left. Rodrick stayed a moment, trying to think of something to say to (Y/N).

“I-I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday,” he finally managed to say, immediately cringing at the stupid thing he decided to say.

(Y/N) smiled at this, though, and responded, “Yeah, I’ll see you Monday. It’ll be nice to already know a friendly face.”

Rodrick smiled back and nodded. (Y/N) closed the door as Rodrick turned away, silently celebrating to himself before joining his family back at the Heffley household.

~~~~~~

That Monday, Rodrick tried not to seem too obvious as he looked around for (Y/N) at school. He couldn’t hide his disappointment when he couldn’t find her the first half of the day.

When she walked into his sixth period math class, Rodrick smiled widely and waved at her. She smiled back and quickly sat in the empty seat next to him.

“Hey! I finally found you!” she said. “This school is so big, and there’s so many people!”

“Yeah, it is pretty big,” Rodrick responded, lamely. “How have your classes been so far?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “They’re, you know, classes. I feel like I can’t form an opinion on anything yet.”

Before Rodrick could ask anymore questions, the teacher came in to start the class.

Math class always dragged on, but that day it felt like it was going at a pace even slower than a snail. Rodrick wanted nothing more than for the class to just end so he could talk to her more.

“The answer is six,” (Y/N) whispered to herself.

Rodrick looked over at her. “What?”

(Y/N) looked at him. Her face was confused at first until she realized she had spoken out loud. Before she could respond, the teacher asked, “Do you two have something to add Miss. (Y/L/N)? Mr. Heffley?”

The two exchanged a look before (Y/N) responded. “The answer to the equation is actually six. You mixed up on your second to last calculation.”

A snicker came from her classmates as the teacher rolled his eyes at her. “I can assure you my calculations are correct Miss. (Y/L/N).”

“I’m not saying they’re all wrong, just the second to last calculation.” (Y/N) rose from her seat and made her way to the whiteboard. “May I?”

“Oh sure, since you know everything.”

(Y/N) ignored his sarcastic tone and erased everything that was on the board except for the starting equation. Rodrick watched as (Y/N) rewrote the entire equation down to the last step, in which she changed the workings to equal six.

The entire room seemed to hold their breath as (Y/N) turned to their teacher. He had a blank expression on his face before letting out a sigh. “Okay, I see your point. Well done Miss. (Y/L/N), now go sit down.”

(Y/N) returned to her seat next to Rodrick, her cheeks tinted pink.

When class finally ended, Rodrick and (Y/N) left together. “That was so impressive! You’re, like, a math genius.”

“My parents have been teaching me basically since I was born,” (Y/N) explained. “They basically made me an overachiever since birth.”

“That’s cool, though. Maybe you could help me with my homework sometime.”

(Y/N) smiled. “Yeah! I’d love to!”

~~~~~~~

Rodrick watched (Y/N) talk to some friends in the living room from his spot in the kitchen. He couldn’t help but smile when she laughed at whatever one of the girls had said.

(Y/N) had really opened up in the months following her moving in. She had gained a great group of friends and had opened up a lot to the people in their grade. She was no longer the shy new girl, but now the smart, semi-popular girl that everyone loved.

“How long till you tell mom and dad about (Y/N)?” Greg asked as he came to stand next to his big brother.

“Disintegrate child,” Rodrick hissed. “Wait, how do you know about me and (Y/N)?”

Greg scoffed. “Come on, Rodrick. You’ve never looked at a girl the way you look at her, among other very obvious tells. You are totally in love with her.”

“Whoa, whoa. Back it up little bro. In love is a strong word. I like her a lot at the most.”

“Like who a lot?”

(Y/N) walked up to the brothers and threw an arm over Rodrick’s shoulder. He felt his heart starting to race at just her close proximity, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread on his face knowing she was there next to him.

Okay, maybe I love her a little bit.

“What lucky girl has taken little Rodrick’s heart?” (Y/N) continued with their “friends” bit.

“You can drop it. Greg knows about us.”

(Y/N) sighed with relief as she dropped her arm from Rodrick’s shoulder. “Good. There was no way I was going to be able to pretend that Rodrick liked someone else. I was sure I was gonna crack.”

Rodrick wrapped his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder and kissed her forehead. (Y/N) leaned into his embrace, a dreamy smile on her face as she peered up at her boyfriend. Greg looked between the two of them, an amused smile on his face.

“I’m happy for you guys,” he said. “But, just remember (Y/N), you could do so much better than Rodrick.”

Rodrick untangled himself from Greg just long enough to feign a threatening punch. Greg took off as soon as Rodrick’s hand went up, disappearing into the crowd of party people around him. Rodrick shook his head and rolled his eyes as (Y/N) laughed.

“He’s smarter than you give him credit for,” (Y/N) pointed out.

“Don’t give him too much credit, it’ll go to his already massive sized head,” Rodrick warned her.

(Y/N) laughed before giving Rodrick a quick peck on her lips. “So, Greg has already figured us out. When do we tell your parents?”

Rodrick sighed as he pulled (Y/N) tightly against them. “Realistically, they’re the next step. I don’t need Greg having anything else he can hold over my head as leverage or blackmail. But...I really don’t want you to meet them. Not because I don’t think they’d like you, they already love you more than they love the three of us. It’s just...mom is super overbearing, especially with girlfriends. The last one I had that I brought to meet them, mom straight up asked her if she planned to ever have kids and get married after graduating high school.”

(Y/N) covered her mouth to try and stifle the laugh that came out. She had met Susan Heffley a few times in passing when doing homework with Rodrick, and even in the few times she had met Rodrick’s mom, she knew that Rodrick’s story was not an exaggeration.”

“Dad is just boring,” Rodrick continued. “He doesn’t do much besides work and collect figurines. He’ll probably ask you if you’ll talk me out of being in the band and actually doing something with my life.”

(Y/N) leaned into Rodrick again. “I won’t push you. You have your reasonings for not wanting me to meet them, and I understand those reasonings. But, just so you know, they’re not gonna chase me away from you. I’m in this for the long haul, Heffley. You’re stuck with me until you get tired of me.”

Rodrick smiled and kissed (Y/N) again. “I’ll never get tired of you, (Y/L/N).”

[oneboxofmatches]

All You Need to Know About Matchups!

CLICK HERE TO VIEW THE WAITLIST

Hi y'all!

This account is solely for matchups for several different fandoms. That means requests for imagines, oneshots, headcanons, etc. will NOT be taken.

Here are some basic things to know about requesting a matchup!

Unless otherwise specified for a certain fandom, a request yields one romantic pairing AND one friendship pairing as well as information on why I think you work well with the individuals I choose. Of course, if you only wish to receive either just the romantic matchup or just the friendship matchup, just let me know!

You can request matchups for several different fandoms at once! For each fandom you request, I will match you up with one romantic partner and one friend unless you request differently.

You can ask to exclude any character(s)!

Where can I request a matchup?

Requests can be made in the MATCHUP REQUESTS/ASK ME ANYTHING tab.

What do I need to include in my request?

Required

Fandom(s)

Your gender and/or pronouns

Your sexual orientation and/or preferences

Description of personality

Optional (but definitely helps me out!)

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Hobbies

Personality alignment (Myers-Briggs, Enneagram, Hogwarts House, etc.)

What you would look for in a partner and/or friend

Any other information you think would be helpful – the more you provide, the more I can work with!

Now with that out of the way, onto the fandoms!

Listed directly below is a shortlist of all the fandoms I take requests for as well as some extra information as needed.

Disclaimers

If a title is in italics, it means that while I feel comfortable providing matchups for this show, I have not watched every season. If a character drastically changes after a certain point, I may not be aware. The last season I watched of these shows will be included in parentheses.

All movies/shows based on novels will most likely focus on the on-screen adaptations of characters.

SHOWS

The 100 (6)

Good Omens

The Good Place (3)

Lucifer (4)

On My Block

Parks and Recreation (4)

Prodigal Son (1)

Sherlock

Space Force

Supernatural (14)

The Walking Dead (8)

MOVIES

Clueless

The Greatest Showman

Harry Potter -- Unless specified in request, will entail 2 sets of matchups as a student (Golden Trio and Marauders eras respectively)

The Hunger Games

Marvel Cinematic Universe -- Unless age is specified, underage characters will NOT be available for romantic matchups

BROADWAY

Anastasia

Beetlejuice

Carrie (2012 Off-Broadway)

Hadestown

Hamilton

Les Misérables

The Phantom of the Opera

Six

VIDEO GAMES

Detroit: Become Human

Red Dead Redemption 2

What’s below the cut?

A masterlist of characters in each fandom that will be considered for each request (unless marked with an asterisk (*), all characters are assumed to be available for both romantic AND friendly matchups while names marked with an asterisk are only available for friendly matchups). Listed alphabetically by first name.

Don’t be afraid to tell me about a typo!

Any questions? Just want to talk? You can also use the  MATCHUP REQUESTS/ASK ME ANYTHING tab to get ahold of me!

SHOWS

Bellamy Blake

Clarke Griffin

Echo

Finn Collins

Harper McIntyre

Jasper Jordan

Johnathan “John” Murphy

Jordan Green

Lexa

Lincoln

Marcus Kane

Monty Green

Octavia Blake

Raven Reyes

Roan

Wells Jaha

Aziraphale

Anathema Device

Crowley

Newton Pulsifer

Mme. Tracy*

Witchfinder Sgt. Shadwell*

Chidi Anagonye

Eleanor Shellstrop

Jason Mendoza

Michael*

Tahani Al-Jamil

Amenadiel

Det. Chloe Decker

Det. Daniel “Dan” Espinoza

Ella Lopez

Eve

Dr. Linda Martin*

Lucifer Morningstar

Mazikeen “Maze”

Cesar Diaz

Jamal Turner

Jasmine Flores

Monsé Finnie

Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

Ruben “Ruby” Martinez Jr.

Andrew “Andy” Dwyer

Ann Perkins

April Ludgate

Benjamin “Ben” Wyatt

Christopher “Chris” Traeger

Donna Meagle*

Gerald “Jerry” Gergich*

Jean-Ralphio Saperstein*

Leslie Knope

Ronald “Ron” Swanson*

Ainsley Whitly

Det. Dani Powell

Edrisa Tanaka

Lt. Gil Arroyo

Det. James “JT” Tarmel

Jessica Whitly

Malcolm Bright

DI Greg Lestrade

Mrs. Hudson*

James “Jim” Moriarty

Dr. John Watson

Mary Morstan*

Molly Hooper

Mycroft Holmes

Sherlock Holmes

Dr. Adrian Mallory*

Capt. Angela Ali

Brig. Gen. Bradley Gregory*

Dr. Chan Kaifang

Duncan Tabner

Erin Naird

F. Tony Scarapiducci

Kelly King

Maggie Naird*

Gen. Mark Naird*

Abbie “Bela” Talbot*

Adam Milligan

Alex Jones

Balthazar

Benjamin “Benny” Lafitte

Castiel

Charlene “Charlie” Bradbury

Claire Novak

Crowley

Dean Winchester

Sheriff Donna Hanscum

Eileen Leahy

Ellen Harvelle*

Gabriel

Garth Fitzgerald IV

Jack Kline

Jessica “Jess” Moore*

Joanna “Jo” Harvelle

Sheriff Jody Mills*

John Winchester

Kaia Nieves

Kevin Tran

Lucifer

Meg Masters

Michael “Mick” Davies

Patience Turner

Robert “Bobby” Singer*

Rowena MacLeod

Rufus Turner*

Samuel “Sam” Winchester

Aaron

Abraham Ford

Andrea*

Beth Greene

Carl Grimes*

Carol Peletier*

Dale Horvath*

Daryl Dixon

Dwight

Enid*

Eugene Porter*

King Ezekiel*

Father Gabriel Stokes

Glenn Rhee

Hershel Greene*

Maggie Greene

Michonne

Morgan Jones*

Negan Smith

Paul “Jesus” Rovia

Rick Grimes

Rosita Espinosa

Sasha Williams

Tara Chambler

Tyreese Williams

MOVIES

Cher Horowitz

Dionne Davenport

Josh Lucas

Tai Frasier

Travis Birkenstock

Anne Wheeler

Charity Barnum

Jenny Lind

Lettie Lutz*

Phillip Carlyle

Phineas “P.T.” Barnum

W.D. Wheeler

Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody*

Albus Dumbledore*

Arthur Weasley*

Cedric Diggory

Cho Chang

Draco Malfoy

Fleur Delacour

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Ginevra “Ginny” Weasley

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

James Potter

Lily Evans

Luna Lovegood

Minerva McGonagall*

Molly Weasley*

Neville Longbottom

Nymphadora Tonks*

Oliver Wood

Remus Lupin

Ronald “Ron” Weasley

Rubeus Hagrid*

Severus Snape

Sirius Black

Viktor Krum

Cinna

Effie Trinket*

Finnick Odair

Gale Hawthorne

Haymitch Abernathy*

Johanna Mason

Katniss Everdeen

Peeta Mellark

Anthony “Tony” Stark -- Iron Man

Dr. Bruce Banner -- Hulk

Carol Danvers -- Captain Marvel

Dr. Christine Palmer*

Clint Barton -- Hawkeye

Drax the Destroyer*

Edward “Ned” Leeds

Gamora

Groot*

Harold “Happy” Hogan*

Dr. Henry “Hank” Pym*\

Hope van Dyne -- Wasp

Sgt. James “Bucky” Barnes -- Winter Soldier

Col. James “Rhodey” Rhodes -- War Machine

Loki Laufeyson

Luis*

Mantis*

Dr. Margaret “Peggy” Carter*

Cdr. Maria Hill*

May Parker*

Lord M’Baku

Michelle “MJ” Jones

Nakia

Natasha Romanoff -- Black Widow

Nebula*

Col. Nicholas “Nick” Fury*

Okoye

Peter Parker -- Spider-Man

Peter Quill -- Star-Lord

Agt. Phillip “Phil” Coulson*

Pietro Maximoff -- Quicksilver

Rocket*

Samuel “Sam” Wilson -- Falcon

Scott Lang -- Ant-Man

Shuri

Dr. Stephen Strange

Steven “Steve” Rogers -- Captain America

King T’Challa -- Black Panther

Thor Odinson

Valkyrie

Virginia “Pepper” Potts

Vision

Wanda Maximoff -- Scarlet Witch

W’Kabi

Wong*

Yelena Belova

Yondu Udonta*

BROADWAY

Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov

Dimitri Sudayev

Gleb Vaganov

Countess Lily Malevsky-Malevitch*

Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna*

Vladimir “Vlad” Popov*

Adam Maitland

Barbara Maitland

Beetlejuice*

Delia Schlimmer

Lydia Deetz*

Carrie White

Christine “Chris” Hargensen

Susan “Sue” Snell

Thomas “Tommy” Ross

Eurydice

Hades

Hermes*

Orpheus

Persephone

Aaron Burr

Alexander Hamilton

Angelica Schuyler

Elizabeth “Eliza” Schuyler

George Washington

Hercules Mulligan

James Madison

John Laurens

Margarita “Peggy” Schuyler

Maria Reynolds

Marquis de Lafayette

Philip Hamilton

Thomas Jefferson

Cosette

Enjolras

Éponine Thénardier

Fantine

Insp. Javert

Jean Valjean

Marius Pontmercy

Carlotta Giudicelli*

Christine Daaé

Erik “The Phantom”

Mme. Giry*

Meg Giry

Raoul de Chagny

Anna of Cleves

Anne Boleyn

Catherine of Aragon

Catherine Parr

Jane Seymour

Katherine Howard

VIDEO GAMES

Carl Manfred*

Chloe

Det. Chris Miller*

Connor

Elijah Kamski

Lt. Hank Anderson*

Capt. Jeffrey Fowler*

Josh

Kara

Leo Manfred

Lucy*

Luther

Markus

North

Rose Chapman*

Simon

Abigail Roberts

Arthur Morgan

Beau Gray*

Charles Smith

Daniël “Dutch” Van der Linde

Eagle Flies

Hosea Matthews*

Javier Escuella

Johnathan “John” Marston Sr.

Josiah Trelawny

Karen Jones

Kieran Duffy

Leonard “Lenny” Summers

Marion “Bill” Williamson

Mary-Beth Gaskill

Micah Bell

Molly O’Shea

Penelope Braithwaite*

Rev. Orville Swanson*

Sadie Adler

Sean MacGuire

Simon Pearson*

Tilly Jackson

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch18: Sugar

 Chapter Summary: It’s July, and Fliss’ birthday…

 Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.!!!

 Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

 A/N: Ok, so I know you’ve all been on edge since He-who-shall-not-be-named was released on parole and I hope this chapter doesn’t disappoint. We’ll be gearing up for a bit of a rough time over the next few chapters for Friss so buckle up…  

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

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 17

July 2018

 “So now what?” Mary looked at Fliss as the two of them sat side by side at the table, both looking at the laptop in front of them.

“See these spaces here…” Fliss said, pointing to two empty squares dotted in the unpublished Internet Page and then to the larger space at the top “Now we need to add the photos…”

 They were working on a project of sorts for Sandybrook’s website. They’d decided to give Monty his own little weekly blog for the summer called “The Life of Monty” which Mary had eagerly said she wanted to write, something for her to do over the break. “Ooh, ok!” Mary nodded “I already know which ones I want to use!” “Yeah?” Fliss looked at her.

“I want that one that has me, you and Monty in…you know the one that Frank likes where we are both laughing.” Fliss smiled “Ok, we can use that one.” “And then the other one is the one where Monty had the Party Hat on because it was his birthday.” “Good choice.” Fliss smiled “And what about the one across the top.” “The one of him in the pasture.” Mary said after a moment “Where he is looking up and pulling the funny face, you know with all his teeth out?” 

Fliss grinned “Yeah, it looks like he is smiling.” Mary nodded eagerly “Yup.” With a move of the mouse, Fliss set to work selecting the photos, ensuring that they were positioned and sized right for the frames. She couldn’t help but smile at the one of her and Mary. Mary was looking at the camera, laughing a lot whilst Fliss was, in turn, watching her and laughing too. Frank had been trying to take the photo of the 2 of them but Bill had been stood behind him, pulling stupid faces which had reduced Mary to tears, and her giggles had then set Fliss off. Frank said he adored the photo, that much in-fact it was now the screen-saver on his phone.

 Fliss clicked save and then looked at Mary. “Wanna give it a final read over, check if you want to add anything else?”

Mary nodded.

“Ok, you do that I’m gonna start dinner.” “What are we having?” Mary looked at her.

“Carbonara. That ok?”

Mary grinned her approval as Fliss stood up, dropped a kiss to Mary’s head and walked into the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before Frank came home and greeted Mary before he headed into the kitchen area. He wrapped his arms round Fliss from behind, dropping a kiss to her neck.

“Good day?” he asked and she hmmed in agreement.

 “Not bad…are you filthy, as usual?”

 He chuckled as he let her go and moved to the fridge. She stopped what she was doing and turned to face him as he reached in for the water jug. He was, as always, covered in grime from his work and Fliss bit her lip. There was definitely something about seeing him in his dirty work jeans and grubby T-shirts that got her blood pumping.

 “Stop it.” he said, giving her a look, knowing full well what she was thinking. She shrugged and with a grin turned back to the food.

 “Oh, erm, wanted to check…are you if we use photos of Mary for her blog on the website?” Fliss asked, turning back to him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” “It’s a public sight.” Fliss shrugged “Just wanted to check that’s all.” “It’s fine.” Frank said, placing a kiss to her cheek “I think it’s a really good idea anyway, give her something to do and practice her writing. Like Bonnie said, she’s sharp on the numbers but could do with honing up her English a little bit. She’s too logical, this should give her something to be creative with and keep her occupied over the break.”

 And you…he refrained from adding. In the week following the notification that parole had been granted, John had been released. And this had set Fliss on edge. One night after she had snapped at Frank, causing a full scale argument over the fact he had bought the wrong type of salad dressing, she’d broken down and confessed that she wasn’t sleeping properly and this was causing stupid things, like Ranch v French dressing, to tip her over the edge.

 The day after her spectacular salad dressing related melt down, Greg, who had already requested details of the terms of his release, came over and the 3 of them gone through, in detail what it meant realistically for Fliss.

 “Basically it’s as good as you could hope for.” Greg explained “He is forbidden from contacting you or any of your family in any way, via any means. He is State-bound to Massachusetts, specifically the Boston area. He’s tagged, and on a curfew between the hours of 7pm and 7am. And moreover the authorities here are following the UK’s lead as well and trialling these new GPS tracking tags, which they’ve deemed him eligible for. So at any time, any place, they’ll be able to lock onto his whereabouts…” 

“So if he does breach his conditions…” Fliss started and Greg nodded “They’ll be on him like a shot.” he said, with a gentle smile “Look, I know this is shit…but you really do have nothing to worry about. One breach and he’s back inside. And when he reaches the end of his parole, we’ll file for an injunction with the same conditions. Keep him away from you.”

 Since the conversation with Greg, Fliss had calmed down somewhat but still, in week following her confession she didn’t spend a night away from Frank, seemingly coping better with the fact that she was around him, and even when he wasn’t there, the fact she was in his apartment gave her some safety and comfort.

 So he’d asked her to move in permanently 3 days ago. Which he was still waiting for an answer on. 

“What you thinking?” her voice broke through his thoughts.

“Honestly?”

 “Always.” she nodded.

 “When you’re gonna give me an answer to that question I asked you a few days back.” She took a deep breath and looked down at the floor before she looked up at him, a soft smile on her face.

 “Are you sure you want me here, full time, and you’re not just asking because-“

 “Lissy…” he cut her off, shaking his head “I’d have asked you move in here the day I did if I’d thought you’d have said yes. I’d love you to come live with us. And I know Mary would too…” “Ok, that’s blackmail.” she narrowed his eyes at the fact he’d dropped Mary into the equation and he grinned. “Is it working?”

 She bit her lip and nodded “Yeah, ok, I’d love to…” “Yeah?” he said, a huge smile spreading across his face, warmth flooding his chest.

 “Yeah…” she nodded, and grinned as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her lips.

 “Gross…” Mary mumbled as she walked past the pair of them to the fridge, retrieving a juice box. . Frank broke away to look at her as she stabbed the straw into the hole at the top.

“Better get over it Stack.” he smirked. “Fliss just agreed to come live with us.” “Really?” her eyes widened and she grinned as Fliss nodded. Mary moved over to the pair of them and wrapped her arms around them both, Frank’s hand falling to the back of her head as she looked up at him. “Does that mean I don’t need to eat any more of your cooking, like ever again?”

 Frank rolled his eyes and glanced at Fliss who was chuckling slightly “Trust me Mary…” she said, grinning “I’ve no intention of eating his cooking either.”

***** Of course Verity and Bill were over the moon when Fliss told them she was moving into Frank’s, and the next week or so they all spent doing various runs with the things she decided she needed to take. Everything else she would be leaving in the annex to either throw or store at a later date. 

Considering the amount of time they spent together, it wasn’t a huge change for them, it just meant that the comfortable routine they adopted when they were together became a daily one, and it suited the pair of them just fine. Frank also surprised Fliss by getting her a vanity unit which she had made a passing comment about, making space for it in their room.

After 3 weeks it had become the new normal for them. They shared chores, shared Activity Club runs, grocery shopping,  bills…Frank had tried to object to that one but Fliss had put her foot down insisting that if she was living there she was paying her way so he’d caved in the end and agreed. Fliss felt happy, safe, secure, loved...and Frank was over the moon simply knowing he had her to come home to every night.

 One particular evening, a few days before her Birthday they were due to meet Evelyn for dinner as she was in town again to visit Mary, but Fliss was running ridiculously late, and as a consequence was in a total flap

 “Fuck, fuck…” she groaned, jumping out of the jeep and calling Thor to her. “Come on buddy…”

She hurried across the lawns and threw the door to the apartment open, Thor shooting in before her. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late…” she instantly began apologising  as she walked into the living area and groaned loudly “The last lesson overran and then one of the waterers broke in the livery barn, flooded Horatio’s stable…” “It’s ok, calm down…” Frank chuckled, dropping a kiss to her cheek. “How did it break?”

“He’s been scratching his arse on it.” she said, rubbing at her temple “He broke it off the wall. We turned the supply off but I had to sort his bed before I left, then call his owner to tell her…” she groaned “Fucking nightmare.” “Want me to take a look at it?”

Fliss shook her head “Dad’s gonna do it tomorrow, keep him busy. He always moans at me for asking you and not…” she trailed off as she spotted Evelyn who was sat on one of the chairs in the living room. “Oh, Evelyn…hi. Sorry, I didn’t realise you were coming here…I thought…”

“We were…” Frank explained “But Mary wasn’t feeling too good so I suggested to Mother she come here instead.” “Oh, no, is she ok?” Fliss asked.

 “Too much sun I think, she’s been running around at the Activities Camp all day and hardly drunk anything, despite the lecture you gave her. She’s had some water and gone for a nap. She’ll be fine when it’s time for dinner.”

 “I thought seeing as we can’t go out I’d treat you to take out.” Evelyn spoke, standing up. Fliss eyed her for a moment before she shrugged.

 “I can make something.” she offered, and Frank shook his head. “No, Lissy…” “I can do chicken with that pear and blue cheese salad you and Mary liked.” Fliss said, “Surely that’s gonna be better for her than a take out if she’s feeling shitty?”

 Frank looked at her and then to his mother “That ok with you?” “Sure, that sounds good.” Evelyn nodded “but only if it’s no trouble.” “It’s fine.” Fliss nodded “Let me go take a shower and then I’ll get started ok?” Frank nodded and dropped a kiss to her cheek before she headed off to the bathroom. Thor made his way into the living room and took his usual place on the rug, flopping down as he looked up at Evelyn as she followed Frank over to the kitchen area. He pulled a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and held it up.

 “Sancerre?” Evelyn arched an eyebrow. “And a pretty good one too…” “Fliss’ choice, not mine. I assume that means you’d like a glass.” “I don’t want to put you out Frank.” she said, and he shook his head.

 “You’re here now so…” he said “Oh, we normally eat outside but I’m not sure if Mary’s-”

 “What, in open view of everyone?” Evelyn asked, horrified “It’s hardly-“ She stopped dead as Frank shot her a look, and held her hands up. “Point taken…”

 Frank poured her a glass then got a beer for himself and leaned back against the counter as his Mother nodded appreciatively at the wine.

 “So, pear and blue cheese…” she said and Frank looked at her “You hated cheese as a child.” “Well, I like it now.” he shrugged “And Mary loves that salad so…” “It’s not a dish I would normally associate with a child to be honest.” Evelyn mused.

“Well, I think we can both agree Mary isn’t a particularly standard child so…”

 At that point Fred sauntered into the kitchen, straight to his food bowl. Evelyn eyed him, before she turned to Frank and smiled “I already took a Benadryl…” He snorted and a few seconds later Mary appeared.

“Hi Grandmother. Fliss said you were here.” “You feeling ok?” Frank asked as she walked over to him. He swung her up and she rest her head on his shoulder, nodding. “Want some more water?” “Fliss told me to ask for the elec…erm…the electo-” “Electrolytes” he said, nodding. “Not a bad shout…”

He set her on the counter and then reached into the cabinet to the right of the sink where they kept the medical supplies and pulled a sachet from the box. Grabbing a glass he pulled the Filter jug out of the fridge and made her the drink before he handed it to her. “Take it slow ok?” She nodded and took it from him with a thanks, sipping at it carefully, pulling a face. “What flavour is that?” “It says orange.” he answered, looking at the packet.

“Well it’s wrong. That’s disgusting.” “It’s good for you, so stop complaining.”  Frank tossed the empty sachet into the trash.

 To his surprise he heard his mother chuckling and he turned to look at her.  “I remember giving you something similar when you came home with sunstroke from playing Baseball all afternoon. You spat it out and told me you’d rather die than drink it.” Frank gave a huff and then turned to Mary who was grinning ear to ear “Don’t even think about it.” he pointed at her.

 She shrugged and then took another mouthful, grimacing as she drank. “Please can I get down?” Frank obliged and watched as she headed off to the sofa, Thor jumping up besides her, settling his head in her lap.

 “Go and talk to her.” Frank looked at his mother “That’s why you’re here, to spend time with her. Not me.”

Evelyn nodded, and for a moment Frank thought he saw a flicker of emotion in the woman’s eyes, but as quick as it had flashed across her face it was gone and she turned and made her way into the sofa. Frank leaned on the edge of the archway which led into the living area and watched as she sat down in the chair she had occupied previously before he heard the door to the bathroom open again, signalling Fliss was out of the shower. He moved to start taking the different things they needed to make dinner out of the fridge and turned on the oven before he seasoned the chicken breasts just as she had shown him with salt, pepper, chilli and a squeeze of lime. He dropped it onto a tray, placed it in the oven and was washing his hands when Fliss walked dressed casually in a pair of shorts and a fading Guns N Roses tank top. She was barefoot and her damp hair was piled up on her head in a haphazard bun. This was Frank’s favourite way to see her. Completely relaxed and at home.

 “Chicken’s in.” he said as he turned to the fridge and then poured her a glass of wine.

 “Thank you.” she smiled, taking a sip.

 “Can I show Evelyn around?” Mary asked, and Frank turned to her.

 “Finished your drink?” “Yeah.” “Ok then yes, of course you can.” She stood up and Evelyn followed, giving the pair of them a smile as she passed by the kitchen area of the open plan living space

 “Oh, Felicity.” “Fliss, please.” Fliss nodded to her as she turned back to what she was doing.

 “Fliss, sorry, but could I be awkward?” Evelyn asked.

“No doubt you can.” Fliss mumbled between gritted teeth and Frank smirked to himself before she tuned to look at Evelyn.

 “Could I ask for my salad dressing on the side?”

“That’s fine.” Fliss nodded “I’ll make you a separate bowl.” “Thank you, that’s very kind.” Evelyn smiled before she headed out after Mary.

 “If she doesn’t eat this, then she’s gonna be wearing it.” Fliss looked at Frank who let out a laugh as he chopped up the slices of cucumber.

 “Now that I would pay to see.” “I’ll do it for free.” Fliss narrowed her eyes.

Frank chuckled again as they continued to make their food. After about 10 minutes or so, just as they were dropping the salad bowls onto the table, Evelyn and Mary re-appeared.

 “You’ve made a nice home, certainly considering the area anyway.” Evelyn said, as Frank invited her to sit at the table before he headed back to grab the bottle of wine, a beer for himself and more water for Mary.

 Fliss rolled her eyes” The area is fine, and Frank did it all, not me. Well, him and my dad. I only moved in a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, he does speak very highly of your parents.” “Well they love him.” Fliss shrugged “But then again what’s not to love.”

Evelyn looked at Fliss for a moment as Frank made his way back to the table, and they all settled down and began to eat. As she had been at Mary’s birthday, his mother was polite, nodding appreciatively at the food, joining in the conversation and she sat with Mary once they’d finished so Mary could show he the latest installation of Monty’s blog. After another bottle of wine and a few more beers, Frank realised it was getting quite late and then told Mary she needed to be getting ready for bed. Evelyn took this as her queue to call for her driver, which Frank was pleased about as it saved him having to ask her to leave.

 Mary headed for a shower and the three adults made small talk until she reappeared in her pyjamas just as Evelyn’s driver called to announce his arrival. She bid Mary goodnight and then Frank made to walk her down to her car when the woman surprised him and looked at Fliss. 

“Could you…I’d like to speak to you.” Fliss looked at Frank before she shrugged “Yeah, sure…” Frank frowned, but didn’t object. He looked at his mother and nodded “Let me know when you want to see her again.”

 “I was actually wondering if she could come to Boston for a few days.” Evelyn said and Frank took a deep breath. “Obviously, when it’s convenient.” “Maybe.” He nodded “Goodbye Evelyn.” “Yes, I’ll call you.” she nodded and then the two women headed out of the apartment. Fliss stuck her hands in her pockets as they walked.

 “I’m glad he took my advice.” Evelyn broke the silence “Regarding you, I mean…”

“Yeah he told me what you said to him.” Fliss gave a snort “Gotta say I was surprised after I’d unleashed quite a nasty verbal tirade on you…” “Well I think all things considered at the time I deserved it.”  Evelyn shrugged “And I’m not surprised you hate me so-“

 “I don’t hate you Evelyn.” Fliss cut her off, shaking her head “I hate what you did to Frank and Mary, and honestly? I still don’t understand it.”

 “I thought I was doing the right thing.” “But how?” Fliss pressed “How was tearing a girl away from the only father figure she has ever known, the man that has cared for her and loved her since she was six months old the right thing?”

 Evelyn shook her head “I know Frank and I made an assumption-” “No, you knew Frank.” Fliss looked at her, “It was, what? Almost 8 years since you saw him last when you turned up…and how long was it before he left Boston since you actually had a conversation with him? I just…” Fliss trailed off and looked down at her feet before she glanced back at Frank’s mother “it baffles me how someone can be so callous towards their own child, that’s all.”

 Fliss watched as Evelyn stopped and looked at her “What do you want me to say?” “An apology might not go amiss…” “I did that with his birthday card, paying the fees…” “Money doesn’t make it ok Evelyn.” Fliss sighed, “And a card isn’t the same as saying it to his face…” she scratched at her head “If you want to try and salvage something from this mess, have some form of relationship with your son…” “What makes you think-“ “Because I saw you this evening, at various points, watching him…you might be able to keep your face straight but the eyes don’t lie” Fliss said gently. Evelyn looked down at the ground as Fliss continued. “I suggest you start with a verbal apology, a very open and honest discussion, because that’s when you get the best out of Frank. On a face-to-face level, when he isn’t being lied or talked down to”

 “You really do know him exceptionally well don’t you?” Evelyn smiled.

“Well, we’ve had enough of our own discussions recently with everything that’s been going on so…” “Right, your ex-husband.” “How do you-“ Fliss sighed, “Mary?” “No, actually, she never said a word. I looked you up.”

 “Course you did.” Fliss groaned.

 “I was curious about your family.” Evelyn shrugged “You have quite the back story.” “Yeah well, its history.” she said “And long may it stay that way.”

 “Well I hope for all your sakes it does.” Evelyn shook her head “Nothing I can’t stand less than a man that deems it acceptable to do that. Lord knows I pushed Preston the extremes at times but he never once raised a hand to me…or his voice now that I think about it. He preferred to argue on a cerebral level...”

 “Very like Frank.” Fliss smiled.

 “Yes, the two are exceptionally similar.” Evelyn said as they reached the car. “Thank you for dinner Fliss, it was a very enjoyable evening.” Fliss smiled and then as Evelyn opened the car door the woman turned back to her “Just think about what I said Evelyn. You can’t turn the clock back but it’s how you go forward from here that matters.”

 Evelyn nodded, and with that she climbed in the car and shut the door. Fliss watched them drive off before she turned and headed back towards the apartment. “You ok?” Frank asked, turning to look over the back of the sofa as she walked into the living area.

“Yeah, fine.” Fliss smiled. “Mary in bed?”

“She’s reading” Frank nodded “Told her you’d pop in and say goodnight.” Fliss yawned as she slid her arms round his shoulders from behind “I’ll go now, then I think I’ll get in bed myself. I’m whacked.” Frank smiled and turned his head to give her a kiss “I’m just gonna finish watching this and then I’ll be with you.” “What is it?” Fliss asked, turning her attention to the TV.

“A documentary on whales, funnily enough. You’d enjoy it…” “You’re such an old man” she teased and he scoffed.

 “Not what you were saying last night.”

Fliss laughed “Well you keep yourself in good shape, what can I say.” With that she kissed his cheek and headed down the hall.

After bidding goodnight to Mary and Thor, who seemed very happy to remain in Mary’s room with Fred, she changed for bed and slipped into the sheets, stretching out before she got herself comfortable. She was dozing, drifting in and out of a light sleep when she felt Frank climb into bed behind her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her to his chest.

 “Finish whale watching?” she asked as he dropped a kiss to her shoulder.

 “Yeah.” he said gently. “So you gonna tell me what my mother wanted?” “Nothing much…” Fliss turned in his arms so she was facing him. “She was actually quite contrite.”

 “Course she was…” “No, I mean it, I think she’s genuinely sorry.” Her hand gently traced shapes on his bicep “Maybe you should give her a chance to apologise properly.”

“That must have been one hell of a talk.” Frank snorted “You were all for dumping salad on her head before!”

 “We had a very honest discussion, I got a few things off my chest.” Fliss shrugged “And, well, like it or not she’s still your mum Frank.” “No, she’s my mother.” he corrected her “Your mom is a mom.”

 “Was your dad a dad or a father?” “He was a dad.” Frank said, “Most definitely.”

 “Do you remember much about him?” she asked.

“Little bits.” Frank’s hand tucked her hair behind her ear. “Mostly about stuff we did. Baseball, football, when he taught me how to ride a bike. All the fun stuff you do with kids really.” he took a deep breath.

 “What did he do?” “He was a Surgeon” Frank said “Neurology.” “Really?” Fliss looked up at Frank as he nodded “Well that’s pretty cool!”

 “Yeah.” Frank nodded “I wanted to be just like him when I was a kid. I sometimes wonder if I idolise him a bit more because he’s dead you know but…” “Have you ever asked your mother what he was like? You know, since he died?” “Once or twice.” Frank replied “For all of Evelyn’s faults she did love Dad. She gave up her own career and research partnership she had with Cambridge in London to move to Boston when she met him. Then they had me. I think she resented me a little bit at first because me and dad were so close, and then when Diane came along that was it, Daddy’s girl...”

 “No longer his main woman.” Fliss smiled.

 “Something like that. You know, I do wonder at times why on Earth she had us.” Frank snorted “if we were such inconveniences…” “It can’t all have been bad.” “Well we wanted for nothing. In fact, we were both very spoilt. And yeah, we had Birthday parties, fun, vacations, trips…but when dad died…I dunno, it kinda went to rat-shit.” “It must have been hard for Evelyn you know, losing him when you were both so young.”

 “Yeah.” Frank sighed “I’ve no doubt it was. I remember the police coming round and breaking the news about the accident…only time I’ve ever seen her break down.”

“You know before, she said that you remind her of your dad.” Fliss looked at him.

“Yeah she’s told me the same, last time I saw her in fact. Probably why she doesn’t particularly enjoy being around me that much.” “I think she enjoys it a lot more than she lets on.”  Fliss shrugged “And besides, I enjoy being around you. And so do my parents…so…”

 Frank gave her a soft smile before she leaned up and gave him a kiss. “I know…” he said, as she snuggled into his chest “And that’s all I care about.” ******

 Friday rolled around and with it came Fliss’ birthday. Frank was pretty sure Mary was more excited than Fliss to give her the gifts they had bought, and with good reason. Fliss beamed as she opened her various packages from them both, which included a bottle of her favourite perfume, a pale blue and white striped sleeveless button down which Frank had thought was quite nautical so very apt and a box of British chocolate. Bonnie had also stopped round the night before to give her a bottle of her favourite gin and a huge bag of sweets which she declared she was hiding from Frank as she didn’t trust him not to eat them.

Frank then handed her the envelope with her main present in and she opened it, her mouth dropping open as she looked at the Broadway Tickets.

“Lion King?” she said, looking up at him. “We’re going to see the Lion King?” He nodded, smiling “I know you wanted to go so…” “Oh my God…thank you!” she practically squealed throwing her arms round his neck, kissing his cheek.

 “You’re welcome.” he smiled, winking at Mary over his shoulder. She gave him the thumbs up. Fliss turned back to look at the pile of presents arranged on the coffee table before Mary handed her another smaller wrapped one.

“This is from me…and Fred…and Thor.” she added and Fliss smiled, unwrapping the small black box. She opened it, and a small card fell out which she picked up and read out loud.

 “We hope you enjoy your “Precious Paws” hand-made resin beads…” she trailed off, and glanced down at the charms in more detail. One was green speckled with gold and the other was blue speckled with silver.

 “The green one has some of Heidi’s tail hair in it…” Mary pointed as Fliss gently took it from the box to examine it in more detail, clearly seeing where the hair was wound through the resin of the bead “And the Blue one has Thor’s in.”

 “I…” Fliss felt herself choke up “Mary these are beautiful, where did you…” “Joanne told me about them.” Mary said, and Frank smiled at her “And then Frank helped me order them…” “They’re not officially Pandora but the woman said when we emailed her they’d fit the standard bracelet.” He said as she turned her head to look at him, her eyes shining.

 “Thank you both, so much…” she turned to Mary and wrapped her up in a hug before she did the same to Frank, giving him a soft kiss “Love you.” “Happy birthday Sweetheart.” he smiled, hugging her again.

As Fliss had booked the day off, so had Frank so the three of them along with Thor and Fred spent the afternoon after visiting Fliss’ mum and dad on one of the boats belonging to Paul, the owner of the shop Frank worked in. Frank had deliberately chosen one of the smaller ones so they could access the small stretch of sand just off St Pete’s beach that they all loved. It was quieter than the main beach as it wasn’t reachable unless you waded or sailed over and they spent the afternoon on the beach with a few beers and a picnic, before they headed home. Mary crashed out on the way back, her head lolling on Fliss’s lap as she sat at the front of the boat, her bare feet resting on the bar in front of her, simply watching the dolphins. Thor was barking at them like mad, wagging his tail and then suddenly he shot to the bow of the boat, placing both his paws up on the metal, threatening to throw himself overboard. Frank’s hand shot out to grab his collar.

“Dumbass…” he yanked him back, and turned to Fliss “Does this mutt have a brain in his head?”

 “Don’t’ talk about my baby like that…” she narrowed her eyes at Frank as she covered Thor’s ears with her hands as he sat by her feet, tail thumping on the floor. “Fred does his share of stupid shit too, like getting his head stuck in cereal boxes.”

 Frank rolled his eyes “At least Fred knows not to jump in the ocean.”

 “That’s because he has no sense of adventure.” Fliss shot back, causing Frank to snort. Standing up, Fliss gently moved Mary, so that she was led flat down before she stretched and moved next to Frank who tossed his arm over her shoulder.

“Had a good day?” he asked and she grinned, nodding.

 “The best.” she smiled “I love it when you bring me out sailing.” “I’m driving.” he turned to face her, grinning. “You’re sailing.”

 “Whatever” he mumbled as his lips pressed to hers. She snaked her arms around his neck as his slid round her back, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her deeply his tongue sliding against hers.

 “You can unwrap your last present when we get home…” he said, grinning like a school boy as he rest his forehead head against hers.

 “Yeah?” she asked, arching an eyebrow

 “I’d let you unwrap it now but…” he nodded to Mary and she snorted.

“You know we’ve not actually done that.” she mused. “Sex on a boat I mean…” Frank let out a laugh “You harbouring a bit of a sailing kink?” “More of a sailor kink” she shot back and he shook his head, giving her another quick kiss before he turned his attention back to the boat as he guided it back into the Marina.

 He made good on his promise once they got back, loved on his girl. Once in the shower and then again later on when he woke up as Fliss had done the same to use the bathroom. Frank knew he would never get tired of hearing the soft cries of his names and the various encouragements she gave him when she begged him not to stop or told him how good he was making her feel. As he tumbled right over that edge, behind her 3rd, or was it 4th orgasm, he’d lost count, his fingers tightened slightly on her hips as his head tipped back in ecstasy. He lay still, panting as she collapsed onto his chest, his hands stroking up and down her spine as she lifted her head, grinning as she caught his lips in a soft kiss before falling down onto the mattress next to him. She looked at him, her eyes flashing in the soft light that was sneaking into the room through the crack in the curtains, a look of pure love on her face, as if he had hung the moon and the stars in the sky, and it was enough to choke him up slightly. He still wasn’t sure he was worthy of her unadulterated adoration, but damned it, he’d try constantly to be the best version of himself if it kept her by his side.

 He didn’t wake the next morning when Fliss’ alarm went off. Instead he woke to a gentle kiss to his cheek and as he roused himself the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit his senses. Blinking he smiled softly as Fliss placed a mug on his night stand.

 “What time is it?” Frank asked.

 “Just gone seven. I’ve got an early appointment with the Ariat rep at the stables, remember?” “Oh, yeah…” he yawned, rubbing his eyes.

 “You told me to wake you before I left.”

 “Yeah, I don’t know why I did that…” he moaned and she chuckled.

 “You gonna bring Mary up later?”

 “Yeah, I’ll leave he with you for the afternoon if that’s ok? Need to clean the boat and get it back.” “Course it is.” she smiled. With that she bent over to kiss him again and in a shot Frank’s arms were round her waist and she was flat on her back on the bed, laughing as he caged her with his arms.

 “Frank…” she whined, as he kissed her softly “I can’t, I’m gonna be late as it is…” “One more kiss, come one…” he pleaded, and she relented as he pressed his lips to hers before she eventually pulled away and shoved on his chest. With a pout he moved allowing her to stand and she shook her head at him.

 “You’ll be the death of me Frank Adler.” she said, straightening her top and he eyed her figure up as she did so and gave a shrug.

 “What a way to go…” he smirked and with that she reached down, grabbed one of the various scatter cushions that lived on the bed during the day, and smacked him straight on the face with it.

 He and Mary shared a lazy morning before they both dressed and headed out going via the bakery at the end of the high street to pick up a coffee and some Danishes for a late breakfast for Fliss as he knew she’d have left without eating any, she always did when she was out earlier than them. As he pulled up, Mary was out of the truck before he had stopped, something which he was fed up of telling her off for.

Frank walked into Fliss’ office where he placed the bag of food on the desk, along with the cardboard carrier which contained their coffee and gave her cheek a kiss. Mary shot into the tack room, grabbed her little box of brushes and shot off to go and see Monty.

“Bye then…” he said sarcastically, and she completely ignored him. He snorted, shaking his head as Fliss laughed.

 “Busy morning?” he asked and Fliss nodded.

 “I’ll say.” she nodded to the bag “Saturday’s always are…aww, you bring me breakfast?”

 “If 11 am counts as breakfast” he snorted and Fliss laughed as she continued sifting through the pile of envelopes on her desk. There was one that contained a few clearly hand delivered cards, he could tell by the shape and the fact they had no post marks, and then another small pile that had arrived in the post. “Bill, bill…oh…” She stopped at a bigger envelope. “A card?”

 Frank shrugged. She turned it over, ripped open the envelope and pulled out a white card with simple block writing on the front in multi-colours. With a frown she opened it and scanned the greeting, before her eyes grew wide and she threw it down onto the desk.

“Lissy?” Frank frowned, and he looked at her as she shook her head, taking a deep breath, before she swallowed and turned to face him. “Honey, what is it?” “It’s…” she swallowed, her eyes wide “That card…it’s…it’s from John.”

Frank’s face grew harsh as he grabbed the card and read the greeting. It was 3 words long. 3 simple words, but even he knew from what she’d told him about the name John used to call her, that it was from him. Happy Birthday Sugar. “Fucker.” Frank growled, tossing the card back onto the desk as Fliss turned to him and he wrapped her in his arms, letting her simply press her face into his chest. He rubbed his hand gently up and down her back as her breathing evened out and she stepped back. “You ok?” “Yeah…” she said, “Do me a favour and get rid of it.” “Don’t you wanna call the police?” he frowned.

 “They’re not going to do anything about a card.” she shook her head

 “He’s broken his parole…” “And they can’t prove its him.” she sighed “They’re not gonna DNA test or whatever on that…” “Fliss…”

“No, Frank…just…” she shook her head. “Please, do what I ask and rip it up, burn it, whatever, I just…get rid of it”

 “Ok, ok…” he appeased and she nodded, before she looked to the doorway and hastily her face rearranged into a smile.

 “Hi Steph!” she greeted. Frank turned to see a dark haired woman dressed in riding gear, Fliss’ next client. “DJ is ready, get Jo to get you on and I’ll be out in a moment.” The woman smiled and headed off down the yard. Fliss looked at Frank.

 “I didn’t think about the fact this place was so easy to find.” she shook her head “The webpage…” Frank sighed, it was something if truth be told he hadn’t considered either “Look, the worst he can do is send you shit.” he said, almost trying to convince himself as well “He can’t set foot out of Mass…he’s clearly doing this to try and upset you so…” “Well he can fuck off and die.” Fliss said venomously, “Ass hole…a fucking birthday card? He’s clearly losing his touch.” With that she gave his cheek a peck and grabbed a Danish out of the bag before she picked up her coffee. “This lesson is only half an hour so as soon as I’m done Mary can ride Monty and then she can do her jobs and stuff. You go and clear the boat from yesterday or whatever it is you were planning on doing and I’ll give you a call later ok?”

 “Sure.” he nodded.

“Love you.” she smiled at him, before she left the room.

 Frank watched her go before he looked at the card. She’d asked him to get rid of it…but something was telling him not to. He pondered it for a moment before he tucked the offending item back into the envelope and then curled it up so it would fit in his back pocket, before he headed out to the jeep, pulling his phone free as he walked. 

“S’up Man?” Greg greeted him as he opened his truck door threw the envelope onto the passenger seat.

“I need some advice.” Frank spoke quietly, glancing over to where Fliss was now stood in the middle of the paddock, the women on the large grey horse was walking around her in a circle. “Can we meet?”

**** Chapter 19

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Matchmaker

Mycroft Holmes x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Prompt:  Could you write a one-shot where the reader is a dectective in Scotland yard, who met sherlock for the first time recently and sherlock still knowing that his brother is lonely decides that she would be a perfect fit for him and tries to set her and mycroft up... Basically I'm looking for a sherlock plays matchmaker.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: none? 

Masterlist 

“So dead man on the floor, house ransacked, what do you think?...Sherlock? Sherlock!” Said man jumped out of his trance and turned to face Lestrade who was looking at him with frustration, “Well?” Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Come on Garret, this is easy even for you, wedding ring missing from the finger, seemingly half the possessions gone, absence of any pictures. It was the wife if you couldn’t see that already. Now enough about that, who’s she?” Greg sighed and rubbed his face with his hand before looking over to where Sherlock was facing, “Detective (L/N)? What about her?” 

Sherlock said nothing, just observed you and Greg looked at John next to him. The former soldier just shrugged, “I don’t question it anymore Greg, I’m sorry.” Greg looked at Sherlock, then you, then back to Sherlock, “You like her or summit?” Sherlock hummed in approval, “Not for me.” John chuckled from how confusing his friend was being but like he said, he didn’t question it. 

Without a word of warning, Sherlock made his way over to you, “Hi, I have a proposition for you which I have no doubt you’d be interested in. I would like to have you accompany a friend of mine to an evening meal. Judging by the past few failed relationships, you don’t like being lonely, even if you know you’re not compatible. But you’ve been making more of an effort in your appearance lately which can only mean you’re looking for another relationship.” You chuckled to yourself, “And you must be Sherlock. Given what people say about you, the last thing I expected you to be doing was setting me up on a date.” 

Sherlock huffed impatiently, “Yes yes, now will you go on the date or not?” He clasped his hands together, a silent plead for you to accept. You thought it over for a few moments, could it really hurt to try it out? And you doubted someone who called themselves a detective would actively put you in danger so what was the harm? Nodding your head, “Okay fine, but you owe me.” Sherlock scoffed but shook your hand, “Deal, here’s your phone back, I’ll text you with the details.” You were shocked but mostly confused when Sherlock gave you your phone back, when did he take it from you? You weren’t really mad at him though, he had given you something to be excited about. 

It had been a while since you had any excuse to dress up for an occasion and Sherlock had just presented it to you on a silver platter. Normally, you wouldn’t agree to this kind of thing but it had been difficult to date because of your new job now, being a detective was a turn off for most men, it seemed like. 

. . .

“A what?” Sherlock rolled his eyes at his older brother, “A date, I know it’s been a while but you must remember what a date is.” Mycroft let out a sigh of frustration, “And what makes you think you can meddle with my love life like this?” Sherlock looked at Mycroft, “Oh get over yourself, you’re lonely and you know it, I’m just trying to help. Maybe then you won’t be so...you.” Mycroft glared at Sherlock, “Listen brother mine, how many times do I have to tell you that I am not lonely. I do not need you to be playing matchmaker for me, if I wanted to be in a relationship, I could easily go out and find myself one.” 

Sherlock accidentally snorted from holding back a laugh, “You really think so?” At the sight of his brother’s anger, Sherlock calmed down, “Just go on the date, you’ll thank me later, she’s lovely.” Mycroft gritted his teeth, “Who is ‘she’?” Sherlock texted his brother a picture of you that he had taken from your Facebook profile, “Her name is (Y/N) (L/N) and she works with Graham.” Mycroft frowned, “Who is Graham?” Sherlock looked down at his phone as he started flicking through twitter, “Oh you know Graham, Scotland Yard, grey hair, could stand to lose a few pounds.” Mycroft leaned back in his chair, “You mean Greg Lestrade.” Sherlock nodded, “That’s what I said.” 

Sherlock turned and left his brother’s office, but Mycroft shouted after him, “Where am I supposed to be going?!” He didn’t hear a response but his phone vibrated to show a text from Sherlock with the time and address. He sighed as he rubbed his face with his hand, why did he have a feeling he was going to regret this? Mycroft was tempted to just refuse to go on the date to annoy his brother but as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was lonely and a little companionship might be nice for once. Spending each night alone in his large, empty house was getting rather tiring over time. 

. . . 

You had been told to dress ‘fancy’ so you had worn your best dress in your closet, a long sleeved, off the shoulder light pink knee length dress that flattered your body by making your waist seem smaller to give you more of an hourglass shape. You had your hair styled just how you liked it and you had decided to wear heels for this date because you didn’t want to risk seeming under-dressed and you didn’t have any flats that would match the dress. You had a small clutch that had your purse, some makeup and perfume in, as well as your keys. 

You had taken a taxi to the address Sherlock had given and you were not surprised to see a very fancy restaurant, one that looked more intimidating than anything else. You weren’t sure what to do but luckily as you were stood staring at the building, you heard someone clear their throat next to you. You turned to see a man dressed in a suit and had an umbrella with them? It hadn’t been raining but you decided not to question it. You smiled at them, “Hello,” 

Mycroft had been a little taken aback when he saw you, you almost seemed too good to be true. He was never someone who had much preference for looks, but you were just so beautiful. He could tell by the look on your face that you had never been here before and were nervous, symptoms of a blind date he presumed. He walked over to you and cleared his throat to get your attention and when you smiled at him, he almost forgot what to say, you had such a captivating smile. When you started to look weary of him, he realised he actually had to say something to you, “My apologies, I don’t suppose you’re here because of Sherlock?” Your shoulders dropped slightly in relief, “Yes I am, are you my date for this evening?” 

Mycroft nodded in agreement and held out his arm for you to take. While the date wasn’t his idea, he was still going to be a gentleman. Your nerves started again when you walked inside the building, it was all so elegant and posh and you felt really out of place in here. You bit your bottom lip as you looked around, half listening to your date talk to the hostess. It was then that you realised you didn’t know his name yet. When the two of you were taken to a table, you cleared your throat, “I’m (Y/N) by the way, it’s nice to meet you,” Mycroft hummed, “Likewise, I’m Mycroft.” Your eyes widened a little, “Mycroft? That’s an unusual name isn’t it? I like it though.” 

Mycroft studied over you, trying to pick up on all the deductions he could about you but he seemed to have a little trouble concentrating and everything was a bit of a blur. You leaned forward a little, “So how do you know Sherlock?” Mycroft straightened in his seat, “He’s my little brother?” Mycroft could see the amusement in your face, “Really? What’s it like having a genius for a brother?” Mycroft scoffed, “I wouldn’t say he’s a genius, I’ve always considered myself the smartest between us.” You could help but chuckle a little to yourself and when you saw Mycroft’s confused and partially offended expression, you explained yourself, “If you were really that smart, you would’ve noticed that I’d rather have this date anywhere but here. I’m not made for fine dining.” 

Normally, this would have annoyed Mycroft, not being able to see something as obvious as this. But you intrigued him so he was more focused on learning more about you. He waited until there was the least amount of people watching and then grabbed your hand, leading you outside of the restaurant, “Where do you propose we go now?” You turned to him and looked at him with a curious expression, “You want to go watch a movie together?” Mycroft hummed, “It depends on the types of movies you prefer.” You smiled, “I like old movies.” “Hm, then I believe I have something to show you.” And that was how you found yourself being driven to Mycroft’s house.

It was weird that you didn’t feel uncomfortable around him, you didn’t feel scared of him or felt any bad vibes from him. He was surprised to feel oddly at ease with you as well, he felt like he could tell you anything despite having known each other for a very limited time. When you arrived at Mycroft’s house, you were taken back by the size of it, “My god, are you some kind of secret billionaire? Where do you work?” You giggled to yourself as you looked around the walls and ceilings, taking it all in. Mycroft had disappeared into the kitchen for a small while but could hear you talking as he came back with wine and two glasses, “I work for the British government.” 

You stopped in your awe, “Are you serious? That’s pretty cool.” Mycroft felt a sudden burst of pride at how easily you were impressed with him. He smirked to himself, “I suppose so, may I ask you a question?” You gladly took the glass of wine from his hand and took a drink, “Go ahead,” “What were your first impressions of me?” You walked closer to Mycroft, “Well, I thought you looked a little fancy and uptight and I still do, but you looked like a man who was lonely in my opinion. Very cute though.” You winked at him over the rim of your glass as you took another drink and Mycroft for once, didn’t have anything to say. 

You smiled at him, “Go on then, what did you think of me?” Mycroft cleared his throat and looked down at his own glass of wine, “I thought you looked beautiful, a little intimidated but someone who wasn’t afraid.” You blushed from his words and the two of you were lost in a moment between the two of you just looking into each other’s eyes. You hadn’t realised the two of you started to get closer until he was almost touching you. You cleared your throat, “So what was it you wanted to show me?” 

It was like the two of you were pulled out of a trance as Mycroft blinked and moved back one step to create some distance between the two of you. He walked down the corridor to lead you into his ‘theater room’ which looked like a small cinema in your opinion. You were in total awe of this man and his house, it was so big and fancy you were almost scared. Mycroft had you sit in a seat next to him when your eyes caught the projector, “I haven’t seen one of those in absolutely ages, my parents used to have one when I was a kid.” Mycroft smiled briefly at you as he set it up, your attention being directed in front of you when the light flashed on, illuminating the dark room. 

You had been excited to watch the movie and you had to stop yourself from laughing when you saw Mycroft mouthing the words along with the actors out of the corner of your eye. You were having such a good time, you almost didn’t want it to end. It was halfway through the movie that ,Mycroft put his hand up on the chair arm and didn’t realise your hand was already there until he felt it underneath his own. He was a little embarrassed about it and wasn’t sure what to do, should he keep it there? Should he take it away? Just as he was about to pull his hand away, he felt your fingers slowly wrap around his own, holding his hand. Mycroft felt his heart beat rising as he in turn held your hand and you smiled to yourself, only half focusing on the movie now. 

It was disappointing when the projector stopped as the movie was over, that meant you had to let go of Mycroft’s hand while he got up to turn off the device. You stood up and stretched, the chair had been comfy but it was awkward to sit in the same position for a long time. You smiled at Mycroft after you checked your phone to see the time, “It’s getting late, I suppose I should head home.” Mycroft was unable to hide his disappointment in your words, but it was going to happen sooner or later. He was surprised to see how close he felt with you after knowing you for so little time. 

Mycroft called his driver to take you home, wanting to ensure that you got home safely. “Are you sure? I can just get a cab, it’s not too much trouble.” “Please, I insist on it,” You had begrudgingly accepted his offer and the two of you waited at his front door until the car pulled up. You turned to face Mycroft, “I had a wonderful time you know.” Mycroft nodded, “As did I,” You opened your mouth to say something the same time as Mycroft and you lightly chuckled, “Oh sorry, you first,” “No, please, I’d hate to interrupt.” You bit your lip before you asked, “Would you perhaps like to do this again sometime?” Mycroft had been hoping that’s what you were going to say, “It would be my pleasure.” 

You blushed a little and looked at him for a moment before standing up on the tips of your toes to kiss him on the cheek, he was a lot taller than you. Quickly, you turned around and walked over to get into the car, not looking at him until you were inside so he couldn’t see you through the tinted windows. You relaxed against the leather seats, letting out a deep breath. Your head had just touched the back of the seat when your phone buzzed. Curious to see who was texting you, you pulled it out of your clutch and read the notification on the lock screen. It simply read, “Had a nice date? - SH” You shook your head but grinned at the message before turning your phone off again, putting it back in your bag. What a weird day. 

[fanficparker]

You are Everything! | H.O.

Friends!Harrison Osterfield x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.8k words

A/N: @lost-aesthetic-of-past and I wrote it together during a reblog chain (haha)

Warnings: Angst but it’s cute. Swearing.

Summary: Harrison decided to cut you off from his life after you had friend-zoned him. But did you actually? Or was there something else?

[ MASTERLIST ]

"Green is not really a good colour on you, ya' know?" Greg said quietly, standing beside Harrison at the pub, looking at the scene unfolding in front of them.

"I'm not jealous," Harrison scowled, turning to look at anything but what was in front of him.

It was basically nothing. Just the girl he has been in love with for years being flirted by another guy. The guy was nice, one of his own acquaintances. But at the moment, he had started to hate him.

"Mate come' on, let's get going." Greg tried to pull Harrison away, possibly because he could sense the blonde nearing his explosion point.

"Yes, give me a second before that!" He finished his drink and walked straight towards you and the guy who was shamelessly flirting with you.

"...And I said, sorry, but I can't talk right now because I'm queening," Kevin said with a laugh, making you laugh in response. You had just met the guy but he was funny, and kind of cute. You were very much looking forward to getting his number and getting to know him more, but just then, Harrison approached you two.

"Hey, Harrison, whats'up?" Kevin greets. You had no idea that Kevin and Harrison knew each other. Harrison however, all but ignores Kevin and turns to you.

"We need to talk." He said before walking out expecting you to follow him.

What did he want to talk about?

You passed Kevin an apologetic smile and rushed after Harrison. He was waiting for you outside the pub.

"Why did you call me out so abruptly?" You questioned, standing in front of him.

"Do you have any idea how Kevin was relentlessly flirting with you?!" Harrison whisper-yelled, motioning with his hands while looking sideways, afraid if Kevin could hear him. You squeezed your eyes at his words.

"I... ah... Know already?" You replied, quirking an eyebrow. Harrison's loose posture instantly jerks into a stiff one as he took a step back.

"You know?" The surprise in his voice was evident.

"Yup. I mean that's exactly... That was exactly the purpose." You admitted, biting at your lower lip.

"What... You..." He sucked in a breath, not believing your words. His stomach was dropping, his heart was shattering.

"Yeah. I-I mean he seems like a good guy. Also, I don't wanna remain single forever," You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear while Harrison clenched his fist, trying his best to not look hurt.

And he thought, he had a chance with you.

"I need to go Haz. He must be waiting, see you in a few minutes," You said and then leaned in, pecked his cheek and walked inside.

He knew what the kiss meant.

It was the friend-zone kiss. You knew about Harrison's feelings and you had just smoothly rejected him.

He was so screwed.

***

"Haz it's been 3 days just, pick up the damn phone! I'm worried!" It was probably the seventh call this morning and he was still not picking up his phone.

That night and that interaction with Harrison outside the pub left you perplexed. He didn't come back inside after the conversation. He simply left, without even informing you. You literally spent a good twenty minutes trying to find him in the crowd when Greg called him over the phone and informed you that he was home already.

And since then, you tried to call him, but he wouldn't pick up. You even tried to call Greg, but he said that you needed to fix this up with Harrison yourself.

What does that even mean?

How were you going to fix this up if you didn't know what you did wrong?

For years you have pined for that guy but kept your feelings at bay because of your damn insecurities. And now that you were ready to date another guy, someone who was within 'your League', Harrison had started acting weird. Absolutely absurd.

Was it because he liked you? Before you could even begin to explore this impossible avenue, the phone rang again.

You rushed to pick it up, thinking it was him, only to find out that it was Tom.

"Hey!" You couldn't help your voice from shaking a little, "Have you heard from Haz?"

"Yeah... I talked to him." The calmness in Tom's voice sounded unnatural, it had a cold undertone to it. "He asked me to tell you to not call him anymore."

"What?!" You were barely keeping yourself from crying at this point, "J-just, tell me what I did? Please."

Tom sighed on the other side, "Okay... Meet me at the usual coffee shop, in thirty-minutes." And with that, he hung up.

You couldn't even begin to imagine what heinous crimes you committed against Harrison that he had to cut you out of his life in the blue? But if he was going to do it, you hoped he did it face to face, and not through your mutual friends. This was worse.

***

"Did you go out with Kevin yet?" Tom asked sitting across from you.

"That's not what I came here to discuss." You told him. You were tapping your foot restlessly. You were here to know about Harrison, not talk about Kevin.

"I am just asking." He rolled his eyes and you scoffed at his reaction.

"Fine. I didn't. He was bothering me with talking about his..." You made a face, "savage moments all the time!"

"So, it didn't work out?"

"That's what I said. Now can we please talk about Harrison?"

"Yeah right. So... Harrison... is kinda mad at you."

"I figured that out myself," You rolled your eyes this time, "Tell me something new."

"Y/n come' on you friend-zoned him and now he can't even be mad?"

"Friend-zoned him? We are already friends!" You panicked through your words.

"Oh my god! Why are girls so dumb!"

"That's sexist..." You scrunched up your face in disgust.

There was no way Harrison could have fallen for you.

He sighed, "That guy is head over heels for you and you don't even notice."

"What no–"

"That's the truth." He interrupted your sentence, shrugging his shoulders.

"No... It can't be..."

"It is Y/n. Why are you denying it so much? He told this to me himself."

"I... I... "

Tom stopped your stuttering by keeping his hand over yours.

"If there's something, you can tell me." He smiled at you in a reassuring manner.

"No Tom... No. You can't understand." You stood up jerking away his hand.

"If you won't tell then how would I?"

"I can't..." You tried to hold back the tears forming in your eyes, "It's... it's embarrassing."

He didn't force you after that (seeing it was the best thing to do) and you left.

How can he understand?

How can people like him and Harrison ever understand?

Harrison is surrounded by models all day. He must be getting laid all the time. Girls throw themselves at him. And you... You were just a plain girl. He can easily trade you with them. They were so much better.

And now you had lost him as a friend too...

***

"Hey, Haz..." This was probably the last time you were going to call him anyway, so, you decided to make it worthwhile.

"You are probably not going to listen to this message. And I don't blame you. But the truth is.. I don't have anyone else to talk about this," You tried to keep your voice even, "And I swear after this if you don't want to stay in touch, I promise I won't bother you."

It had been a few hours until your meeting with Tom. All these hours you were going crazy.

How were you going to tell Harrison that it's because of your crippling insecurity you kept your feelings hidden?

How were you going to do that without him looking at you like you are a fool?

"You know I'm not the most secure person in the world," You laugh through your nerves, "And definitely not the most confident one. And that's why when I realised I liked you... more than friends... I got scared. Because you are you, and you look amazing and are so funny and talented and... I am just... me," You shrugged your shoulders even though you knew he won't be able to see you.

"And that's why I kept it all locked. Because I didn't want to feel rejected when I find out you don't like me like that." You sucked in a deep breath, "So now I've gone on and ruined everything, and I'm sorry if I hurt you..." You voice cracked as all those pent up tears rolled down your cheeks.

"I didn't mean to. I'm sorry!" And with that you hung up, not knowing that he will listen to your message, and only a few hours later going to turn up at your door.

If it was simply a knock at your door, you wouldn't be opening it. But the knock was accompanied with his voice. How could you not open?

Looking at you for the first time in three days made Harrison feel like he finally found something very dear to him he had lost. Sure you were in your pyjamas and your hair resembled a bird's nest, but it was you.

And you were...

"You are an absolute dumbass! No, you are actually the biggest dumbass on this entire planet!" There was a fit of slight anger behind his voice, but it was kind of hard to focus on the tone when you were finally hearing from him (and were even seeing him) after three entire days. "How dare you think that you are not good enough when really you are the only one?!" He thumbed his foot on the floor.

"What?" Now you spoke, not realising you had spaced out.

And you were...

He rubbed his face with both hands, "You are everything!" He walked forward, cradling your face gently in his hands.

And you were...

"An idiot..." He breathed out, "But still everything... How could you possibly think you were not enough?"

"You know me... I-I can't help it!" And the waterworks started again.

He leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours, looking into your glossy e/c eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" He voice was merely a whisper as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

You nodded your head, unable to form words and he pressed his lips again yours, pulling you closer to him.

"Just... next time... talk to me. Don't shut me out, okay?"

"Okay." You nodded again, resting your head against his chest.

What would happen if you actually screwed it all up?

_______________________

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[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding High Ch 18: Sugar

Chapter Summary: It’s July, and Fliss’ birthday…

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.!!!

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Ok, so I know you’ve all been on edge since He-who-shall-not-be-named was released on parole and I hope this chapter doesn’t disappoint. We’ll be gearing up for a bit of a rough time over the next few chapters for Friss so buckle up…

Also, I noticed yesterday that Tumblr seems to be swallowing huge chunks of my work on SSB…so I’m going to try and publish this in one, but if it doesn’t work I’ll split it over 2 parts.

Chapter Song:   Shogun by George Ezra

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“And we got two in the front, two in the back, sailing along and we don’t look back”

July 2018

“So now what?” Mary looked at Fliss as the two of them sat side by side at the table, both looking at the laptop in front of them.

“Ok, so see these spaces here…” Fliss said, pointing to 2 empty squares dotted in the unpublished Internet Page and then to the larger space at the top “Now we need to add the photos…”

They were working on a project of sorts for Sandybrook’s website. They’d decided to give Monty his own little weekly blog for the summer called “The Life of Monty” which Mary had eagerly said she wanted to write, something for her to do over the break. “Ooh, ok!” Mary nodded “I already know which ones I want to use!” “Yeah?” Fliss looked at her.

“Yeah…ok so I want that one that has me, you and Monty in…you know the one that Frank likes where we are both laughing.” Fliss smiled “Ok, we can use that one.” “And then the other one is the one where Monty had the Party Hat on because it was his birthday.” “Good choice.” Fliss smiled “And what about the one across the top.” “The one of him in the pasture.” Mary said after a moment “Where he is looking up and pulling the funny face, you know with all his teeth out?”

Fliss grinned “Yeah, it looks like he is smiling.” Mary nodded eagerly “Yup.” “Ok…” Fliss said, and with a move of the mouse she set to work selecting the photos, ensuring that they were positioned and sized right for the frames. She couldn’t help but smile at the one of her and Mary. Mary was looking at the camera, laughing a lot whilst Fliss was, in turn, watching her and laughing too. Frank had been trying to take the photo of the 2 of them but Bill had been stood behind him, pulling stupid faces which had reduced Mary to tears, and her giggles had then set Fliss off. Frank said he adored the photo, that much in-fact it was now the screen-saver on his phone.

Fliss clicked save and then looked at Mary. “Wanna give it a final read over, check if you want to add anything else?”

Mary nodded.

“Ok, you do that I’m gonna start dinner.” “What are we having?” Mary looked at her.

“Carbonara. That ok?”

Mary grinned her approval as Fliss stood up, dropped a kiss to Mary’s head and walked into the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before Frank came home and greeted Mary before he headed into the kitchen area. He wrapped his arms round Fliss from behind, dropping a kiss to her neck.

“Good day?” he asked and she hmmed in agreement.

“Not bad…are you filthy, as usual?”

He chuckled as he let her go and moved to the fridge. She stopped what she was doing and turned to face him as he reached in for the water jug. He was, as always, covered in grime from his work and Fliss bit her lip. There was definitely something about seeing him in his dirty work jeans and grubby T-shirts that got her blood pumping.

“Stop it.” he said, giving her a look, knowing full well what she was thinking. She shrugged and with a grin turned back to the food.

“Oh, erm, wanted to check…are you if we use photos of Mary for her blog on the website?” Fliss asked, turning back to him.

“Of course I am.” he said, frowning “Why wouldn’t I be?” “It’s a public sight.” Fliss shrugged “Just wanted to check that’s all.” “It’s fine.” Frank said, placing a kiss to her cheek “I think it’s a really good idea anyway, give her something to do and practice her writing. Like Bonnie said, she’s sharp on the numbers but could do with honing up her English a little bit. She’s too logical, this should give her something to be creative with and keep her occupied over the break.”

And you…he refrained from adding. In the week following the notification that parole had been granted, John had been released. And this had set Fliss on edge. One night after she had snapped at Frank, causing a full scale argument over the fact he had bought the wrong type of salad dressing, she’d broken down and confessed that she wasn’t sleeping properly and this was causing stupid things, like Ranch v French dressing, to tip her over the edge.

The day after her spectacular salad dressing related melt down, Greg, who had already requested details of the terms of his release, came over and the 3 of them gone through, in detail what it meant realistically for Fliss.

“Basically it’s as good as you could hope for.” Greg explained “He is forbidden from contacting you or any of your family in any way, via any means. He is State-bound to Massachusetts, specifically the Boston area. He’s tagged, and on a curfew between the hours of 7pm and 7am. And moreover the authorities here are following the UK’s lead as well and trialling these new GPS tracking tags, which they’ve deemed him eligible for. So at any time, any place, they’ll be able to lock onto his whereabouts…”

“So if he does breach his conditions…” Fliss started and Greg nodded “They’ll be on him like a shot.” he said, with a gentle smile “Look, I know this is shit…but you really do have nothing to worry about. One breach and he’s back inside. And when he reaches the end of his parole, we’ll file for an injunction with the same conditions. Keep him away from you.”

Since the conversation with Greg, Fliss had calmed down somewhat but still, in week following her confession she didn’t spend a night away from Frank, seemingly coping better with the fact that she was around him, and even when he wasn’t there, the fact she was in his apartment gave her some safety and comfort.

So he’d asked her to move in permanently 3 days ago. Which he was still waiting for an answer on.

“What you thinking?” her voice broke through his thoughts.

“Honestly?”

“Always.” she nodded.

“When you’re gonna give me an answer to that question I asked you a few days back.” She took a deep breath and looked down at the floor before she looked up at him, a soft smile on her face.

“Are you sure you want me here, full time, and you’re not just asking because-“

“Lissy…” he cut her off, shaking his head “I’d have asked you move in here the day I did if I’d thought you’d have said yes. I’d love you to come live with us. And I know Mary would too…” “Ok, that’s blackmail.” she narrowed his eyes at the fact he’d dropped Mary into the equation and he grinned. “Is it working?”

She bit her lip and nodded “Yeah, ok, I’d love to…” “Yeah?” he said, a huge smile spreading across his face, warmth flooding his chest.

“Yeah…” she nodded, and grinned as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross…” Mary mumbled as she walked past the pair of them to the fridge, retrieving a juice box. . Frank broke away to look at her as she stabbed the straw into the hole at the top.

“Better get over it Stack.” he smirked. “Fliss just agreed to come live with us.” “Really?” her eyes widened and she grinned as Fliss nodded. Mary moved over to the pair of them and wrapped her arms around them both, Frank’s hand falling to the back of her head as she looked up at him. “Does that mean I don’t need to eat any more of your cooking, like ever again?”

Frank rolled his eyes and glanced at Fliss who was chuckling slightly “Trust me Mary…” she said, grinning “I’ve no intention of eating his cooking either.”

***** Of course Verity and Bill were over the moon when Fliss told them she was moving into Frank’s, and the next week or so they all spent doing various runs with the things she decided she needed to take. Everything else she would be leaving in the annex to either throw or store at a later date.  

Considering the amount of time they spent together, it wasn’t a huge change for them, it just meant that the comfortable routine they adopted when they were together became a daily one, and it suited the pair of them just fine. Frank also surprised Fliss by getting her a vanity unit which she had made a passing comment about, making space for it in their room.

After 3 weeks it had become the new normal for them. They shared chores, shared Activity Club runs, grocery shopping,  bills…Frank had tried to object to that one but Fliss had put her foot down insisting that if she was living there she was paying her way so he’d caved in the end and agreed. Fliss felt happy, safe, secure, loved...and Frank was over the moon simply knowing he had her to come home to every night.

One particular evening, a few days before her Birthday they were due to meet Evelyn for dinner as she was in town again to visit Mary, but Fliss was running ridiculously late, and as a consequence was in a total flap

“Fuck, fuck…” she groaned, jumping out of the jeep and calling Thor to her. “Come on buddy…”

She hurried across the lawns and threw the door to the apartment open, Thor shooting in before her.  

“I’m so sorry I’m late…” she instantly began apologising  as she walked into the living area and groaned loudly “The last lesson overran and then one of the waterers broke in the livery barn, flooded Horatio’s stable…” “It’s ok, calm down…” Frank chuckled, dropping a kiss to her cheek. “How did it break?”

“He’s been scratching his arse on it.” she said, rubbing at her temple “He broke it off the wall. We turned the supply off but I had to sort his bed before I left, then call his owner to tell her…” she groaned “Fucking nightmare.” “Want me to take a look at it?”

Fliss shook her head “Dad’s gonna do it tomorrow, keep him busy. He always moans at me for asking you and not…” she trailed off as she spotted Evelyn who was sat on one of the chairs in the living room. “Oh, Evelyn…hi. Sorry, I didn’t realise you were coming here…I thought…”

“We were…” Frank explained “But Mary wasn’t feeling too good so I suggested to Mother she come here instead.” “Oh, no, is she ok?” Fliss asked.

“Too much sun I think, she’s been running around at the Activities Camp all day and hardly drunk anything, despite the lecture you gave her. She’s had some water and gone for a nap. She’ll be fine when it’s time for dinner.”

“I thought seeing as we can’t go out I’d treat you to take out.” Evelyn spoke, standing up. Fliss eyed her for a moment before she shrugged.

“I can make something.” she said, and Frank shook his head.

“No, Lissy…” “I can do chicken with that pear and blue cheese salad you and Mary liked.” Fliss said, “Surely that’s gonna be better for her than a take out if she’s feeling shitty?”

Frank looked at her and then to his mother “That ok with you?” “Sure, that sounds good.” Evelyn nodded “but only if it’s no trouble.” “It’s fine.” Fliss nodded “Let me go take a shower and then I’ll get started ok?” Frank nodded and dropped a kiss to her cheek before she headed off to the bathroom. Thor made his way into the living room and took his usual place on the rug, flopping down as he looked up at Evelyn as she followed Frank over to the kitchen area. He pulled a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and held it up.

“Sancerre?” Evelyn arched an eyebrow. “And a pretty good one too…” “Fliss’ choice, not mine.” he said, “I assume that means you’d like a glass.” “I don’t want to put you out Frank.” she said, and he shook his head.

“You’re here now so…” he said “Oh, we normally eat outside but I’m not sure if Mary’s-”

“What, in open view of everyone?” Evelyn asked, horrified “It’s hardly-“ She stopped dead as Frank shot her a look, and held her hands up. “Point taken…”

Frank poured her a glass then got a beer for himself and leaned back against the counter as his Mother nodded appreciatively at the wine.

“So, pear and blue cheese…” she said and Frank looked at her “You hated cheese as a child.” “Well, I like it now.” he shrugged “And Mary loves that salad so…” “It’s not a dish I would normally associate with a child to be honest.” Evelyn mused.

“Well, I think we can both agree Mary isn’t a particularly standard child so…”

At that point Fred sauntered into the kitchen, straight to his food bowl. Evelyn eyed him, before she turned to Frank and smiled “I already took a Benadryl…” He snorted and a few seconds later Mary appeared.

“Hi Grandmother. Fliss said you were here.” “You feeling ok?” Frank asked as she walked over to him. He swung her up and she rest her head on his shoulder, nodding. “Want some more water?” “Fliss told me to ask for the elec…erm…the electo-” “Electrolytes” he said, nodding. “Not a bad shout…”

He set her on the counter and then reached into the cabinet to the right of the sink where they kept the medical supplies and pulled a sachet from the box. Grabbing a glass he pulled the Filter jug out of the fridge and made her the drink before he handed it to her. “Take it slow ok?” She nodded and took it from him with a thanks, sipping at it carefully, pulling a face. “What flavour is that?” “It says orange.” he answered, looking at the packet.

“Well it’s wrong. That’s disgusting.” “It’s good for you, so stop complaining.”  he said, tossing the empty sachet into the trash.

To his surprise he heard his mother chuckling and he turned to look at her.  “I remember giving you something similar when you came home with sunstroke from playing Baseball all afternoon. You spat it out and told me you’d rather die than drink it.” Frank gave a huff and then turned to Mary who was grinning ear to ear “Don’t even think about it.” he pointed at her.

She shrugged and then took another mouthful, grimacing as she drank. “Please can I get down?” Frank obliged and watched as she headed off to the sofa, Thor jumping up besides her, settling his head in her lap.

“Go and talk to her.” Frank looked at his mother “That’s why you’re here, to spend time with her. Not me.”

Evelyn nodded, and for a moment Frank thought he saw a flicker of emotion in the woman’s eyes, but as quick as it had flashed across her face it was gone and she turned and made her way into the sofa. Frank leaned on the edge of the archway which led into the living area and watched as she sat down in the chair she had occupied previously before he heard the door to the bathroom open again, signalling Fliss was out of the shower. He moved to start taking the different things they needed to make dinner out of the fridge and turned on the oven before he seasoned the chicken breasts just as she had shown him with salt, pepper, chilli and a squeeze of lime. He dropped it onto a tray, placed it in the oven and was washing his hands when Fliss walked dressed casually in a pair of shorts and a fading Guns N Roses tank top. She was barefoot and her damp hair was piled up on her head in a haphazard bun. This was Frank’s favourite way to see her. Completely relaxed and at home.

“Chicken’s in.” he said as he turned to the fridge and then poured her a glass of wine.

“Thank you.” she smiled, taking a sip.

“Can I show Evelyn around?” Mary asked, and Frank turned to her.

“Finished your drink?” “Yeah.” “Ok then yes, of course you can.” She stood up and Evelyn followed, giving the pair of them a smile as she passed by the kitchen area of the open plan living space

“Oh, Felicity.” “Fliss, please.” Fliss nodded to her as she turned back to what she was doing.

“Fliss, sorry, but could I be awkward?” Evelyn asked.

“No doubt you can.” Fliss mumbled between gritted teeth and Frank smirked to himself before she tuned to look at Evelyn.

“Could I ask for my salad dressing on the side?”

“That’s fine.” Fliss nodded “I’ll make you a separate bowl.” “Thank you, that’s very kind.” Evelyn smiled before she headed out after Mary.

“If she doesn’t eat this, then she’s gonna be wearing it.” Fliss looked at Frank who let out a laugh as he chopped up the slices of cucumber.

“Now that I would pay to see.” “I’ll do it for free.” Fliss narrowed her eyes.

Frank chuckled again as they continued to make their food. After about 10 minutes or so, just as they were dropping the salad bowls onto the table, Evelyn and Mary re-appeared.

“You’ve made a nice home, certainly considering the area anyway.” Evelyn said, as Frank invited her to sit at the table before he headed back to grab the bottle of wine, a beer for himself and more water for Mary.

Fliss rolled her eyes” The area is fine, and Frank did it all, not me. Well, him and my dad. I only moved in a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, he does speak very highly of your parents.” “Well they love him.” Fliss shrugged “But then again what’s not to love.”

Evelyn looked at Fliss for a moment as Frank made his way back to the table, and they all settled down and began to eat. As she had been at Mary’s birthday, his mother was polite, nodding appreciatively at the food, joining in the conversation and she sat with Mary once they’d finished so Mary could show he the latest installation of Monty’s blog. After another bottle of wine and a few more beers, Frank realised it was getting quite late and then told Mary she needed to be getting ready for bed. Evelyn took this as her queue to call for her driver, which Frank was pleased about as it saved him having to ask her to leave.

Mary headed for a shower and the three adults made small talk until she reappeared in her pyjamas just as Evelyn’s driver called to announce his arrival. She bid Mary goodnight and then Frank made to walk her down to her car when the woman surprised him and looked at Fliss.

“Could you…I’d like to speak to you.” Fliss looked at Frank before she shrugged “Yeah, sure…” Frank frowned, but didn’t object. He looked at his mother and nodded “Let me know when you want to see her again.”

“I was actually wondering if she could come to Boston for a few days.” Evelyn said and Frank took a deep breath. “Obviously, when it’s convenient.” “Maybe.” He nodded “Goodbye Evelyn.” “Yes, I’ll call you.” she nodded and then the two women headed out of the apartment. Fliss stuck her hands in her pockets as they walked.

“I’m glad he took my advice.” Evelyn broke the silence “Regarding you, I mean…”

“Yeah he told me what you said to him.” Fliss gave a snort “Gotta say I was surprised after I’d unleashed quite a nasty verbal tirade on you…” “Well I think all things considered at the time I deserved it.”  Evelyn shrugged “And I’m not surprised you hate me so-“

“I don’t hate you Evelyn.” Fliss cut her off, shaking her head “I hate what you did to Frank and Mary, and honestly? I still don’t understand it.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing.” “But how?” Fliss pressed “How was tearing a girl away from the only father figure she has ever known, the man that has cared for her and loved her since she was 6 months old the right thing?”

Evelyn shook her head “I know Frank and I made an assumption-” “No, you knew Frank.” Fliss looked at her, “It was, what? Almost 8 years since you saw him last when you turned up…and how long was it before he left Boston since you actually had a conversation with him? I just…” Fliss trailed off and looked down at her feet before she glanced back at Frank’s mother “it baffles me how someone can be so callous towards their own child, that’s all.”

Fliss watched as Evelyn stopped and looked at her “What do you want me to say?” “An apology might not go amiss…” “I did that with his birthday card, paying the fees…” “Money doesn’t make it ok Evelyn.” Fliss sighed, “And a card isn’t the same as saying it to his face…” she scratched at her head “If you want to try and salvage something from this mess, have some form of relationship with your son…” “What makes you think-“ “Because I saw you this evening, at various points, watching him…you might be able to keep your face straight but they eyes don’t lie” Fliss said gently. Evelyn looked down at the ground as Fliss continued. “I suggest you start with a verbal apology, a very open and honest discussion, because that’s when you get the best out of Frank. On a face-to-face level, when he isn’t being lied or talked down to”

“You really do know him exceptionally well don’t you?” Evelyn smiled.

“Well, we’ve had enough of our own discussions recently with everything that’s been going on so…” “Right, your ex-husband.” “How do you-“ Fliss sighed, “Mary?” “No, actually, she never said a word. I looked you up.”

“Course you did.” Fliss groaned.

“I was curious about your family.” Evelyn shrugged “You have quite the back story.” “Yeah well, its history.” she said “And long may it stay that way.”

“Well I hope for all your sakes it does.” Evelyn shook her head “Nothing I can’t stand less than a man that deems it acceptable to do that. Lord knows I pushed Preston the extremes at times but he never once raised a hand to me…or his voice now that I think about it. He preferred to argue on a cerebral level...”

“Very like Frank.” Fliss smiled.

“Yes, the two are exceptionally similar.” Evelyn said as they reached the car. “Thank you for dinner Fliss, it was a very enjoyable evening.” Fliss smiled and then as Evelyn opened the car door the woman turned back to her “Just think about what I said Evelyn. You can’t turn the clock back but it’s how you go forward from here that matters.”

Evelyn nodded, and with that she climbed in the car and shut the door. Fliss watched them drive off before she turned and headed back towards the apartment. “You ok?” Frank asked, turning to look over the back of the sofa as she walked into the living area.

“Yeah, fine.” Fliss smiled. “Mary in bed?”

“She’s reading” Frank nodded “Told her you’d pop in and say goodnight.” Fliss yawned as she slid her arms round his shoulders from behind “I’ll go now, then I think I’ll get in bed myself. I’m whacked.” Frank smiled and turned his head to give her a kiss “I’m just gonna finish watching this and then I’ll be with you.” “What is it?” Fliss asked, turning her attention to the TV.

“A documentary on whales, funnily enough.” Frank said, “You’d enjoy it…” “You’re such an old man” she teased and he scoffed.

“Not what you were saying last night.”

Fliss laughed “Well you keep yourself in good shape, what can I say.” With that she kissed his cheek and headed down the hall.

After bidding goodnight to Mary and Thor, who seemed very happy to remain in Mary’s room with Fred, she changed for bed and slipped into the sheets, stretching out before she got herself comfortable. She was dozing, drifting in and out of a light sleep when she felt Frank climb into bed behind her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her to his chest.

“Finish whale watching?” she asked as he dropped a kiss to her shoulder.

“Yeah.” he said gently. “So you gonna tell me what my mother wanted?” “Nothing much…” Fliss said, and she turned in his arms so she was facing him. “She was actually quite contrite.”

“Course she was…” “No, I mean it, I think she’s genuinely sorry.” Fliss said, her hand gently tracing shapes on his bicep “Maybe you should give her a chance to apologise properly.”

“That must have been one hell of a talk.” Frank snorted “You were all for dumping salad on her head before!”

“We had a very honest discussion, I got a few things off my chest.” Fliss shrugged “And, well, like it or not she’s still your mum Frank.” “No, she’s my mother.” he corrected her “Your mom is a mom.”

“Was your dad a dad or a father?” “He was a dad.” Frank said, “Most definitely.”

“Do you remember much about him?” she asked.

“Little bits.” he said, his hand tucking her hair behind her ear. “Mostly about stuff we did. Baseball, football, when he taught me how to ride a bike. All the fun stuff you do with kids really.” he took a deep breath.

“What did he do?” “He was a Surgeon” Frank said “Neurology.” “Really?” Fliss looked up at Frank as he nodded “Well that’s pretty cool!”

“Yeah.” Frank nodded “I wanted to be just like him when I was a kid. I sometimes wonder if I idolise him a bit more because he’s dead you know but…” “Have you ever asked your mother what he was like? You know, since he died?” “Once or twice.” Frank replied “For all of Evelyn’s faults she did love Dad. She gave up her own career and research partnership she had with Cambridge in London to move to Boston when she met him. Then they had me. I think she resented me a little bit at first because me and dad were so close, and then when Diane came along that was it, Daddy’s girl...”

“No longer his main woman.” Fliss smiled.

“Something like that. You know, I do wonder at times why on Earth she had us.” Frank snorted “if we were such inconveniences…” “It can’t all have been bad.” “Well we wanted for nothing. In fact, we were both very spoilt. And yeah, we had Birthday parties, fun, vacations, trips…but when dad died…I dunno, it kinda went to rat-shit.” “It must have been hard for Evelyn you know, losing him when you were both so young.”

“Yeah.” Frank sighed “I’ve no doubt it was. I remember the police coming round and breaking the news about the accident…only time I’ve ever seen her break down.”

“You know before, she said that you remind her of your dad.” Fliss looked at him.

“Yeah she’s told me the same, last time I saw her in fact. Probably why she doesn’t particularly enjoy being around me that much.” “I think she enjoys it a lot more than she lets on.”  Fliss shrugged “And besides, I enjoy being around you. And so do my parents…so…”

Frank gave her a soft smile before she leaned up and gave him a kiss.

“I know…” he said, as she snuggled into his chest “And that’s all I care about.” ******

Friday rolled around and with it came Fliss’ birthday. Frank was pretty sure Mary was more excited than Fliss to give her the gifts they had bought, and with good reason. Fliss beamed as she opened her various packages from them both, which included a bottle of her favourite perfume, a pale blue and white striped sleeveless button down which Frank had thought was quite nautical so very apt and a box of British chocolate. Bonnie had also stopped round the night before to give her a bottle of her favourite gin and a huge bag of sweets which she declared she was hiding from Frank as she didn’t trust him not to eat them.

Frank then handed her the envelope with her main present in and she opened it, her mouth dropping open as she looked at the Broadway Tickets.

“Lion King?” she said, looking up at him. “We’re going to see the Lion King?” He nodded, smiling “I know you wanted to go so…” “Oh my God…thank you!” she practically squealed throwing her arms round his neck, kissing his cheek.

“You’re welcome.” he smiled, winking at Mary over his shoulder. She gave him the thumbs up. Fliss turned back to look at the pile of presents arranged on the coffee table before Mary handed her another smaller wrapped one.

“This is from me…and Fred…and Thor.” she added and Fliss smiled, unwrapping the small black box. She opened it, and a small card fell out which she picked up and read out loud.

“We hope you enjoy your “Precious Paws” hand-made resin beads…” she trailed off, and glanced down at the charms in more detail. One was green speckled with gold and the other was blue speckled with silver.

“The green one has some of Heidi’s tail hair in it…” Mary pointed as Fliss gently took it from the box to examine it in more detail, clearly seeing where the hair was wound through the resin of the bead “And the Blue one has Thor’s in.”

“I…” Fliss felt herself choke up “Mary these are beautiful, where did you…” “Joanne told me about them.” Mary said, and Frank smiled at her “And then Frank helped me order them…” “They’re not officially Pandora but the woman said when we emailed her they’d fit the standard bracelet.” He said as she turned her head to look at him, her eyes shining.

“Thank you both, so much…” she turned to Mary and wrapped her up in a hug before she did the same to Frank, giving him a soft kiss “Love you.” “Happy birthday Sweetheart.” he smiled, hugging her again.

As Fliss had booked the day off, so had Frank so the three of them along with Thor and Fred spent the afternoon after visiting Fliss’ mum and dad on one of the boats belonging to Paul, the owner of the shop Frank worked in. Frank had deliberately chosen one of the smaller ones so they could access the small stretch of sand just off St Pete’s beach that they all loved. It was quieter than the main beach as it wasn’t reachable unless you waded or sailed over and they spent the afternoon on the beach with a few beers and a picnic, before they headed home. Mary crashed out on the way back, her head lolling on Fliss’s lap as she sat at the front of the boat, her bare feet resting on the bar in front of her, simply watching the dolphins. Thor was barking at them like mad, wagging his tail and then suddenly he shot to the bow of the boat, placing both his paws up on the metal, threatening to throw himself overboard. Frank’s hand shot out to grab his collar.

“Dumbass…” he yanked him back, and turned to Fliss “Does this mutt have a brain in his head?”

“Don’t’ talk about my baby like that…” she narrowed her eyes at Frank as she covered Thor’s ears with her hands as he sat by her feet, tail thumping on the floor. “Fred does his share of stupid shit too, like getting his head stuck in cereal boxes.”

Frank rolled his eyes “At least Fred knows not to jump in the ocean.”

“That’s because he has no sense of adventure.” Fliss shot back, causing Frank to snort. Standing up, Fliss gently moved Mary, so that she was led flat down before she stretched and moved next to Frank who tossed his arm over her shoulder.

“Had a good day?” he asked and she grinned, nodding.

“The best.” she smiled “I love it when you bring me out sailing.” “I’m driving.” he turned to face her, grinning. “You’re sailing.”

“Whatever” he mumbled as his lips pressed to hers. She snaked her arms around his neck as his slid round her back, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her deeply his tongue sliding against hers.

“You can unwrap your last present when we get home…” he said, grinning like a school boy as he rest his forehead head against hers.

“Yeah?” she asked, arching an eyebrow

“I’d let you unwrap it now but…” he nodded to Mary and she snorted.

“You know we’ve not actually done that.” she mused. “Sex on a boat I mean…” Frank let out a laugh “You harbouring a bit of a sailing kink?” “More of a sailor kink” she shot back and he shook his head, giving her another quick kiss before he turned his attention back to the boat as he guided it back into the Marina.

He made good on his promise once they got back, loved on his girl. Once in the shower and then again later on when he woke up as Fliss had done the same to use the bathroom. Frank knew he would never get tired of hearing the soft cries of his names and the various encouragements she gave him when she begged him not to stop or told him how good he was making her feel. As he tumbled right over that edge, behind her 3rd, or was it 4th orgasm, he’d lost count, his fingers tightened slightly on her hips as his head tipped back in ecstasy. He lay still, panting as she collapsed onto his chest, his hands stroking up and down her spine as she lifted her head, grinning as she caught his lips in a soft kiss before falling down onto the mattress next to him. She looked at him, her eyes flashing in the soft light that was sneaking into the room through the crack in the curtains, a look of pure love on her face, as if he had hung the moon and the stars in the sky, and it was enough to choke him up slightly. He still wasn’t sure he was worthy of her unadulterated adoration, but damned it, he’d try constantly to be the best version of himself if it kept her by his side.

He didn’t wake the next morning when Fliss’ alarm went off. Instead he woke to a gentle kiss to his cheek and as he roused himself the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit his senses. Blinking he smiled softly as Fliss placed a mug on his night stand.

“What time is it?” Frank asked.

“Just gone 7. I’ve got an early appointment with the Ariat rep at the stables, remember?” “Oh, yeah…” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“You told me to wake you before I left.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I did that…” he moaned and she chuckled.

“You gonna bring Mary up later?”

“Yeah, I’ll leave he with you for the afternoon if that’s ok? Need to clean the boat and get it back.” “Course it is.” she smiled. With that she bent over to kiss him again and in a shot Frank’s arms were round her waist and she was flat on her back on the bed, laughing as he caged her with his arms.

“Frank…” she whined, as he kissed her softly “I can’t, I’m gonna be late as it is…” “One more kiss, come one…” he pleaded, and she relented as he pressed his lips to hers before she eventually pulled away and shoved on his chest. With a pout he moved allowing her to stand and she shook her head at him.

“You’ll be the death of me Frank Adler.” she said, straightening her top and he eyed her figure up as she did so and gave a shrug.

“What a way to go…” he smirked and with that she reached down, grabbed one of the various scatter cushions that lived on the bed during the day, and smacked him straight on the face with it.

He and Mary shared a lazy morning before they both dressed and headed out going via the bakery at the end of the high street to pick up a coffee and some Danishes for a late breakfast for Fliss as he knew she’d have left without eating any, she always did when she was out earlier than them. As he pulled up, Mary was out of the truck before he had stopped, something which he was fed up of telling her off for.

Frank walked into Fliss’ office where he placed the bag of food on the desk, along with the cardboard carrier which contained their coffee and gave her cheek a kiss. Mary shot into the tack room, grabbed her little box of brushes and shot off to go and see Monty.

“Bye then…” he said sarcastically, and she completely ignored him. He snorted, shaking his head as Fliss laughed.

“Busy morning?” he asked and Fliss nodded.

“I’ll say.” she nodded to the bag “Saturday’s always are…aww, you bring me breakfast?”

“If 11 am counts as breakfast” he snorted and Fliss laughed as she continued sifting through the pile of envelopes on her desk. There was one that contained a few clearly hand delivered cards, he could tell by the shape and the fact they had no post marks, and then another small pile that had arrived in the post. “Bill, bill…oh…” She stopped at a bigger envelope. “A card?”

Frank shrugged. She turned it over, ripped open the envelope and pulled out a white card with simple block writing on the front in multi-colours. With a frown she opened it and scanned the greeting, before her eyes grew wide and she threw it down onto the desk.

“Lissy?” Frank frowned, and he looked at her as she shook her head, taking a deep breath, before she swallowed and turned to face him. “Honey, what is it?” “It’s…” she swallowed, her eyes wide “That card…it’s…it’s from John.”

Frank’s face grew harsh as he grabbed the card and read the greeting. It was 3 words long. 3 simple words, but even he knew from what she’d told him about the name John used to call her, that it was from him. Happy Birthday Sugar. “Fucker.” Frank growled, tossing the card back onto the desk as Fliss turned to him and he wrapped her in his arms, letting her simply press her face into his chest. He rubbed his hand gently up and down her back as her breathing evened out and she stepped back. “You ok?” “Yeah…” she said, “Do me a favour and get rid of it.” “Don’t you wanna call the police?” he frowned.

“They’re not going to do anything about a card.” she shook her head

“He’s broken his parole…” “And they can’t prove its him.” she sighed “They’re not gonna DNA test or whatever on that…” “Fliss…”

“No, Frank…just…” she shook her head. “Please, do what I ask and rip it up, burn it, whatever, I just…get rid of it”

“Ok, ok…” he appeased and she nodded, before she looked to the doorway and hastily her face rearranged into a smile.

“Hi Steph!” she greeted. Frank turned to see a dark haired woman dressed in riding gear, Fliss’ next client. “DJ is ready, get Jo to get you on and I’ll be out in a moment.” The woman smiled and headed off down the yard. Fliss looked at Frank.

“I didn’t think about the fact this place was so easy to find.” she shook her head “The webpage…” Frank sighed, it was something if truth be told he hadn’t considered either “Look, the worst he can do is send you shit.” he said, almost trying to convince himself as well “He can’t set foot out of Mass…he’s clearly doing this to try and upset you so…” “Well he can fuck off and die.” Fliss said venomously, “Ass hole…a fucking birthday card? He’s clearly losing his touch.” With that she gave his cheek a peck and grabbed a Danish out of the bag before she picked up her coffee. “This lesson is only half an hour so as soon as I’m done Mary can ride Monty and then she can do her jobs and stuff. You go and clear the boat from yesterday or whatever it is you were planning on doing and I’ll give you a call later ok?”

“Sure.” he nodded.

“Love you.” she smiled at him, before she left the room.

Frank watched her go before he looked at the card. She’d asked him to get rid of it…but something was telling him not to. He pondered it for a moment before he tucked the offending item back into the envelope and then curled it up so it would fit in his back pocket, before he headed out to the jeep, pulling his phone free as he walked.

“S’up Man?” Greg greeted him as he opened his truck door threw the envelope onto the passenger seat.

“I need some advice.” Frank spoke quietly, glancing over to where Fliss was now stood in the middle of the paddock, the women on the large grey horse was walking around her in a circle. “Can we meet?”

[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane’s Pets: Chapter 67: Discomfort

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You’ve come to find a thrill in discomfort. When you’re almost having a panic attack or flashback, but not quite. Even more, you enjoy the lightheaded relief you feel when you do something that makes you uncomfortable and nothing bad happens.

You say your name over and over again, using relaxation techniques the others have taught you each time. You recover from the panic faster and faster as you practice.

Things are good. Things are great, even if you’re having nightmares every night and need ibuprofen to get through the most basic of tasks without horrible pain. Jane isn’t controlling you anymore, so things are good. You managed to keep the collar off for three hours yesterday.

You wish you could remember what you used to call Puppy and Kitty. You’d write those names down too, and eventually say them, and then when they finally let Barron save them you won’t be calling them animal names.

No, no need to think about them right now, it doesn’t help anything.

You and Barron have been getting to know each other, though mostly in the company of Greg and Diya. You want to push yourself further.

“I’m going for a walk. Do you want to come with, Barron?"

It looks surprised. “…Sure.”

It’s a very quiet walk. Your heart pounds and pounds and your legs feel weak, being alone with someone who could hurt you so easily.

“I’m worried about you.” Barron says out of nowhere.

“Hm?”

“You’re making so much progress so fast. Which is great! But… I’m worried you’ll burn yourself out.”

“I already talked about this with Diya and Greg. I’m going slow. I still sleep with the collar on and I’m not going to ask you to call me Liam” deep breath “until I can say it without feeling afraid.”

“I see. That’s good. I’m glad they talked to you about it.”

You nod. You think you’re doing really well. Making lots of progress while still being gentle with yourself. What more could any of them want?

You don’t talk for the rest of the walk. When you get back, you take some ibuprofen and try to read a few more pages of the nightmare book you picked.

Things are good. Things are great. You find a thrill in discomfort, which is good, because you’re always, always feeling it. Always scared, so why not feel scared while doing something that’ll help instead of feeling scared doing nothing? You think you’re handling everything very well. You dream of Puppy and Kitty screaming, of kind strangers being slaughtered in front of you, of every bone in your body breaking and your name being repeated as you’re shocked over and over and over-

Everything’s fine. You don’t mind the discomfort. You like it! It’s fine.

~~

Before showering, Kitty grabs some clothes to change into. They move mostly on autopilot, but freeze when they notice all of their clothes with pockets have had them sewn closed.

Well. They don’t need those. They don’t have a phone or anything to carry around, anyway. And they’d definitely rather wear clothes with the pockets sewn closed than go back into the basement.

Kitty spends much longer cleaning themself than they need to, but Jane didn’t say to hurry. They… should be fine.

It’s nice to feel clean. It’s not like Jane was letting them out of sensory deprivation to use the bathroom, and sitting in their own filth for so long left them feeling less than human. Like the animal Jane claimed they were.

Kitty leaves the bathroom to look for Jane and Puppy. Jane said she wanted to talk.

Kitty wants to have a nice meal of human food and go to bed on a mattress with blankets wrapped around them. Hopefully this talk will be quick.

They can’t find anyone in the kitchen or living room or bathroom. Puppy’s not in her room.

Shit, did Jane want them to go back into the basement? They don’t want to do that, what if this was another trick giving them false hope and she’s going to put them right into sensory deprivation again? They don’t want that, they can’t do any more, they can’t!

They check every room again, and no ones there. They’re going to have to go back into the basement.

They stand outside the basement door, trying to psych themself up to go back down. It’ll just be worse if Jane thinks they were purposefully avoiding it. She probably already thinks that-

“Kitty.”

Kitty flinches and turns around. Jane lounges on the couch.

“Come here.”

Kitty obeys and sits next to Jane.

“Kneel.”

They sink to the floor.

“Good Kitty.” Jane pets their hair, and then produces a cat ear headband. They fight the urge to roll their eyes she places it on their head.

“You’ve spent too long thinking that you could get around my rules. I bet it made you feel safer, huh? That you knew that as long as you followed the letter of the law, you wouldn’t be punished. We aren’t going to do that anymore. I still expect you to follow the rules, of course, but deliberate disrespect will also be punished. And anything I don’t like!” She strokes their cheek. “I guess, really, the change is that obedience isn’t enough anymore. I want /compliance/. Got it?”

Kitty nods. “Yes, Master.”

They think they get the headband now. It’s a test. She never said to keep it on, so it wouldn’t be disobedient to take it off. But it also wouldn’t be compliant.

Jane pats their head. “I still need to discipline Puppy a bit more. Are you going to be good if I leave you alone?”

Kitty’s heart sinks. Of course Puppy’s still in the basement, that’s why they couldn’t find her anywhere. Maybe they weren’t down there as long as they thought… but their fingers were broken when it started, and they’re healed now. And Puppy’s going to be in the basement even longer.

“It was my fault, Master, please. Let her upstairs. It was my fault. I can- I can take her place.”

They’re bluffing, though to whom they’re not sure. They can’t go back down there, can’t take anymore, even to save Puppy from what must be objectively worse than sitting there with a blindfold and headphones on.

Jane grabs their chin and pulls their face up to hers until they’re nose to nose.

“I’m going to say this once, because I’m feeling fair today. There will be no more negotiating punishments. I’m the only one who decides who gets hurt and how and how long, unless I explicitly tell you to choose. Understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Are you going to be good if I leave you alone?”

“Yes, Master.”

Jane releases their chin and pats their cheek. “Good Kitty.” She disappears.

Kitty stays kneeling on the ground and takes a few deep breaths. They’ll just eat something real quick and go to bed. Oh, it’ll be so nice to eat real food and lie on something other than concrete.

They slowly stand up onto shaking legs. Puppy will be okay. She’s tough. It’ll be okay. They should just enjoy being out of the basement.

Kitty eats some yogurt. They’d like to eat more, they’re so hungry, but their stomach isn’t used to digesting things yet. Honestly, the yogurt is pushing it after they had the cat food, but they need to taste and smell something nice.

They eat slowly, savoring each bite. It’s too quiet and every noise is too loud. They’re so tired. How can just sitting in the basement with a blindfold and headphones on be so exhausting?

When they finish their yogurt, they go to their room and curl up in bed. They close their eyes and immediately open them again. Too dark. They wish Puppy was here, she always takes care of them after sensory deprivation.

They cringe at the thought. They shouldn’t be wishing Puppy was here for their own sake, she’s being tortured.

A scream rings out from the basement. They cover their ears and quickly uncover them, it’s too much like the headphones. At least it’s not too quiet anymore…

They turn on the lights in their room and open the windows, then lie back down. Now, when they close their eyes, it’s red instead of dark.

Puppy screams. Kitty tries to ignore it. They can’t do anything about it.

It’s… fine. Kitty’ll just play nice for a while, like they always do, and then things will go back to normal.

Oh god. They’re hoping things will go back to normal. That horrible, horrible status quo. They’re hoping for it. They want Bunny back and they want to only have to worry about being obedient instead of being compliant.

They… don’t hope for freedom anymore. Just a slightly more comfortable hell.

They really need some sleep.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @fuzzybucketz

[ao3porcelainstorm]

poison ivy & stinging needles 27

On Ao3

Masterlist

Pairing: Sherlock/OFC

Rated: M

Warnings: eventual violence, torture, swears, adult themes (no explicit smut)

Chapter 26 - Chapter 28

Chapter 27 - Unwell

I might be okay, but I’m not fine at all.

(—)

A month after Sherlock’s death and Amelia found herself standing at the front of his grave with a single pink carnation dangling between her fingers. 

“It looks nice,” she commented to John, studying the newly erected grave marker. “Very... him, I guess.”

The friends stood in silence, staring down at the ground, each juggling their own complex emotions about the whole situation.

“I’ll let you-,” John cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his coat pockets, shuffling away to give her some privacy. 

Others had clearly come to pay their respects since the funeral. Notes of gratitude and blooming bouquets covered the sleek obsidian stone. 

“This one means ‘I’ll never forget you’,” she mumbled, feeling a little foolish talking to a rock. “I thought it was a little more appropriate than bringing a sprig of aloe to symbolize ‘grief’. Granted, I ended up digging through an old farmers almanac for reference since I left my books at Baker Street and well-.” 

 She stepped up to the grave and draped the carnation over the top. Stepping back to her spot, she tugged at the sleeves of her coat anxiously. 

“I dropped out of therapy,” she confessed quietly. “I think John knows, because he’s been asking about my appointments. She just kept bringing you up and I just couldn’t- it still really hurts, you know?” 

The stone didn’t reply, though a small sparrow did hop near the carnation and poke around its petals. 

“I swear I saw one of the nurses who was there the other day,” she continued, biting her bottom lip and staring up at a nearby tree to try and blink back some tears. “John swore it was just some lady from your homeless network, but she was wearing this bracelet that I swear-.”

“Maybe I should go back to therapy,” she muttered under her breath. “I just have this overwhelming feeling that this isn’t... it’s never this simple with you. It just doesn’t add up. I can’t talk to anyone about it because they think I’m this crazy grieving mess- which is true but- come on. We both know I’m right.”

The sparrow pooped on the stone and fluttered away.

“Right,” she nodded to herself, laughing at how ridiculous she felt venting to a grave. 

(—) 

Amelia found herself at the grave again the next day. 

It was raining, so she’d bundled herself in one of John’s old rain coats and huddled under an umbrella. She was alone this time, but brought another flower. 

“Purple hyacinth,” she held up the small flower to the stone. “It’s means ‘sorrow’. Pretty apt, don’t you think?” 

She moved to place it next to the carnation from the day before, but found the flower was missing. A quick glance confirmed the weather hadn’t knocked it astray, so she assumed it was snatched up by a bird or passing mourner. 

“Maybe they needed it more than you do,” she reasoned before telling him a funny story John had told her the day before. 

(—)

Amelia wanted to visit a third day in a row, but before she left for the graveyard, she wanted to pick up another flower at the small flower shop near the site. 

It was while she was debating between a violet and a blue salvia when she noticed a familiar face parting the graveyard. 

Replacing the flowers into their displays, she darted after the person. Against her best judgement, she called out and flagged her down, throwing on a smile when she greeted her. 

“Uh, hi,” she started, catching her breath. Amelia knew she needed to play this subtly. She thought back to the ways Sherlock had explained how to pull information out of people. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?” 

The woman blinked at her in confusion a few moments before her expression lit up with a brief recollection. 

“You’re Holmes’ lady,” she noted with a nod. Her expression immediately fell somber. “I was just paying my respects. You know, before he died, he helped land me a job over at the DVLA? Just said he owed me for all my help over the years.”

So John had been right, Amelia noted, giving the woman a once over. She must have been part of his homeless network. Though not that she was face to face with her, Amelia was even more convinced she was the same nurse she’d seen that day. 

Amelia continued idle chatter a moment, more formally introducing herself and inviting her to a late lunch at a diner up the street. 

Sarah, Amelia later learned, was quite clever. 

She’d shared a bit of her sad tale, of addiction and a string of abusive partners that landed her locked outside her flat one day with no where to go. 

“Holmes helped cover some basic living expenses,” she explained, sipping at a mug of tea. “He knew I’d made some connections in the streets and the work was easy to come by. Even once I’d found a flat, I helped him. Nothing easier than dressing in a mess and watching all day.”

“You said he helped you get a job at the driver’s licensing agency?” Amelia inquired casually. 

“He mentioned his brother could pull a few strings,” she shrugged. “I’d been trying to find more stable employment for a while now. Go back to school. That sort of thing and he offered to help.”

“Just out of the blue?” Amelia chuckled in disbelief. “That hardly sounds like him.”

Sarah laughed, her lips smiling in an unspoken agreement. 

“You know him best,” she hummed. “He needed a little help with a case. Just some eyes and ears. I found a few people I trusted and I had an interview the next week. Just a shame what happened, the poor man. I don’t believe a lick of it.”

“It’s a bit sad the jurors came clean after the fact,” Amelia agreed bitterly, the sweetened tea she’d sipped going sour in her mouth. “I’m glad I ran into you, Sarah, truly. I haven’t had the best time talking to anyone about this and well... thank you.”

Sarah seemed moved by the confession and took Amelia’s hand tenderly. 

“Oh it’s no problem, you seem like a sweet girl,” she sighed before reaching in her purse and pulling out a piece of paper and pen. “Text or call me anything. We can do lunch again or I’d be happy to visit the grave with you.” 

She scribbled down her details, passing the note to Amelia with another genuine smile. Before long after that, she had to leave, citing a meeting with a cable installer. 

“I lived under an overpass,” she stated, sighing. “Now I’m scheduling services like a real adult. It’s something, isn’t it?” 

“You never mentioned what Sherlock needed help with?” Amelia chuckled, helping her toward the exit and holding the door open. “Was it a recent case?” 

Sarah paused, hesitating slightly before that disarming smile flashed back on her features. 

“Kind of,” she answers cryptically. “Got to play a little dress up, which was a nice change of pace.”

“Huh,” Amelia shrugged. “Sounds like Sherlock. Be safe.”

They parted and Amelia fished the small paper out of her coat pocket to enter in Sarah’s information into her phone. She was almost confident her suspicions were right, though almost switched to definitely when she flipped the paper over and realized with was a business card. 

A business card with Inspector Greg Lestrade’s name and contact information printed on the other side. 

(—)

Later that night, Amelia brought the subject up to John who chalked it up to coincidence.

“But how could it be a coincidence? She had to have been there,” she insisted. “Maybe I mistook her clothes for scrubs. We both know Greg hands out his cards to witnesses in case they remember something.”

“You said she was homeless, right?” he asked tersely, glaring up from his newspaper. “Maybe she was offered some help? Or witnessed some other crime? Greg is a very busy man, his world doesn’t revolve around the great Sherlock Holmes.”

“You have to admit it’s weird,” she challenged. “I knew I recognized her face and sure enough, she said she’d been visiting Sherlock’s grave!”

John tensed and folded his paper under his arm, standing abruptly. 

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, or why you’re so preoccupied with all of this, but it’s not like you’re going to find any answers,” he snapped at her, retreating toward his room. “It’s just going to lead to more hurt. Sherlock is gone, Amelia, it’s time we move forward with our lives.”

He closed the door to his bedroom on that note, leaving Amelia standing in the middle of the apartment with her mouth agape. 

He’d called her Amelia. 

John never called her Amelia.

She wasn’t sure what to do. Deep down, she knew John was hurting as much as she was, perhaps even more. They’d been as close as brothers, and she could imagine the betrayal he felt at his friends final decision. Maybe even guilt. 

She certainly felt it. Everyday she felt it. 

Moving toward the door to his room, she knocked lightly and listened for a response. 

When none came, she decided to just apologize and let him know she was going out for the night. 

“Don’t wait up,” she added with a mumble, grabbing her things and leaving the apartment. 

She wandered through the neighborhood a while, collecting her thoughts as nighttime began to fall over the city. London had such a unique air to it that varied so much from her home in New York. 

Her home. 

She supposed London was her home now, or at least Baker Street. Now she wants so sure. Amelia had put her home in a person, rather than a place, and now she felt unbearable lost. 

Hands stuffed in her pockets for warmth, her fingers touched Lestrade’s business card. She pulled it out and frowned at the office number listed. 

It wasn’t too late. Maybe he was still on duty?

But what could she ask him? That some random woman named Sarah was at the scene of Sherlock’s death? 

It was probably like John said, a big coincidence. It wasn’t like Sarah had shoved the detective off the rooftop. Amelia had seen enough to know he leapt of his own physical will- his emotional notwithstanding. 

The was no way Lestrade would even let her access the files either. Thatd be ridiculous. A total breach in protocol-

“Looks like a Sarah Patterson was interview the day of the suicide,” Lestrade bit into the sandwich Amelia had brought and plucked the file out from one of the boxes stacked next to his desk. 

Tossing it toward her, he focused on the meal, thanking her again for offering to pick something up on her way over.

“You’re just going to let me read this?” she asked, eyeing the folder suspiciously. 

“I think yoI forget I’m used to dealing with your dead boyfriend,” he replied bluntly, cringing when she frowned at his words. “Sorry. Still fresh. I know. I get short when I’m dealing with- it’s why my wife- just open the damn thing, get what you need and let me know if you’re going to do something stupid. Least I can do is make sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

Amelia snorted back a laugh in response, flipping through the file and skimming through the details. 

“It says you interviewed her,” she noted in surprise. “Do you remember what she looked like?” 

Lestrade huffed out a sigh, leaning back in his chair. 

“You’re aware I talk to a lot of people, every day,” he explained. “Just give me her ID number and I’ll pull her up in the system. I’m sure there’s a driver’s license on record with a picture.”

Amelia listed off the numbers in the corner of the file and after typing in the sequence, Greg turned his computer monitor around to show her the woman’s face. 

Sure enough, Sarah, the woman she’d met earlier, was staring back at her. 

Amelia looked back down at the file and noted the details. 

Sarah was apparently a nurse who’d witnessed the fall and responded immediately. She’d taken the pulse of the subject and was able to describe the state of the body with somewhat harrowing medical detail. 

“Get what you need?” he asked, turning the computer back toward him. 

“I think so,” she closed the folder and passed it back to him. “Any chance I can get a copy of that license?” 

“It’s on the printer on your way out,” he nodded toward the photocopier outside the office. 

“You’re a gem, Greg,” she smiled up at him appreciatively. 

“Let’s do dinner with everyone or something soon,” he called after her. “You look terrible and I know Molly misses you.”

“Right,” Amelia answered absently, snatching up the paper and typing the ID’s address into her phone. 

(—)

Amelia stirred to someone nudging her foot. 

“Dr. Brenner, this isn’t exactly the best neighborhood to take a nap in,” Mycroft’s voice stated dryly. 

Eyes snapping open, she jolted awake, disoriented from her dazed state. 

“What are you doing here?” she yawned, double checking her wallet was still safely tucked away in her coat. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, gesturing to a waiting car. “It’s nearly 4 in the morning.”

“I was waiting for a friend,” she lied, and Mycroft quirked a brow. “Why are you on this side of town?”

“Your phone’s GPS went offline,” he answered. “This was its last location.”

“Why are you tracking my phone?” she asked, trudging toward the car and sliding inside when he opened the door. 

“Because I had an inkling that you would go off and do something irrational like sleep on a bench in an unsafe area in the middle of the night,” he stated. “There is still an ongoing investigation into Moriaty’s holdings and you are a prime target now that my brother has... passed.”

“Aw-,” she hummed, leaning back into the comfortable interior and closing her eyes. “You’re like my guardian bureaucrat. Did you volunteer for the job? Or does someone in your office have a twisted sense of humor?”

“Would you believe me if I said both?”

“And here I thought you hated me.”

“Hates a strong word.”

“Dislike then.”

“I was under the impression that was how you regarded me.”

“I’m a little ambivalent given the fact you traded your brother’s life for some ill gotten victory on a maniac.”

“His death prevented thousands more down the line.”

“Thanks Spock, cool motive, still killed him.”

“Are you still living above the flower shop?” he asked, changing the subject.

“It’s not really a flower shop. Burnt down remember?” she replied, opening an eye to peek at him. She supposed if he was tracking her phone, he probably knew all about her and John’s move to the new flat. 

“Have you considered reopening? It might be a nice distraction from your internalized rage,” he suggested, crossing his arms.

“Is that your interpretation or John’s?” she challenged, opening her other eye and glaring at him.

“Mrs. Hudson’s,” he answered with the smallest smirk. Amelia could have smacked him for finding any sort of amusement from this, but god if the Holmes’ brothers didn’t share that identical grin. “She’s concerned. John hasn’t been answering my calls, but apparently he’s been sharing quite the stories with her.”

“Internalized rage is a bit of a stretch.”

“Grief is a complex emotion, we all handle it in different ways,” he continued. “I know my brother was… special to you.”

Amelia let out a dry laugh at his words. Special. As if Mycroft wasn’t well aware of the relationship between the two of them. As if he hadn’t found her shaking on the roof, meters aware from where the detective had leapt to his death. 

“And let me guess,” she saw they were approaching the street of her apartment. “You handle it by being a total jackass? Or is that just how you normally deal with the deaths of siblings?”

“In my position, you have to take the positives in even the most devastating of circumstances,” he murmured and Amelia caught him glance down at his lap. Was that a little emotion she spied? “I regret the loss, but he was my brother and I have to respect the decision he made to protect others. Certainly that hasn’t been lost on you?”

The car came to a stop at the curb and Amelia reached for the door, pausing as she considered his words.

“It wasn’t,” she answered. “But I firmly believe the world would have been a better place is he were still in it.”

“I think we can both agree on that.”

(---)

Chapter 28

[buckysbest]

CHAPTER SIX: WILDFLOWER Paring: ex!Bucky barnes x reader Warnings: swearing, cheating, almost smutty near the end if you squint Series Summary: Bucky realizes one can only run from their problems for so long before they must returns home but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting her to be there when he did. Word Count: 2.6k A/N: this series is based off the album “calm” by 5sos. if you want to follow along in the album, listen to Wildflower while reading this! thanks for supporting the series! i really love you guys! let me know what you think of the series!

series masterlist // masterlist

The blush that sat on your face sank deep into your skin as you lost your color. Bucky took note of your sudden change and concern captained his face. “Y/N… you ok?”

“Bucky...Y-you lied to me?”

“Y/N, what are yo-”

“You lied to me about last night Buck,” you sighed, hiding your face into your nervous hands. His head grew heavy with responsibility as it dropped with an exhale before he placed his hand on your knee and gathered your attention.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I should have said something. I just figured since you didn't remember it, well”, his hand momentarily left your leg as he ran it across the back of his neck. “I just figured that you didn't want to…”

 Before you could start, he quickly continued. “Look at me,” Following his queue, your silent eyes lifted to meet his. “I don’t know what you remember, but I was absolutely sober. I meant every word that left my lips even if you didn’t. That being said, we just fell into a little bit of normalcy and I really don't want to lose that Y/N.” He searched your face anxiously for a response.

You looked down at your newly tied sneakers with a small grin. “I forgive you bucky, but I need you t-” 

Fury’s sharp voice interrupted yours as it rang over the PA system on the course, “All recruits and essential personnel need to hurry their asses up into this building, we have reports of a storm coming our way and it does not look pretty.”

Other agents holding clipboards began walking faster as they made their way inside, encouraging you and Bucky to do the same. As you got into the building, even more agents filtered through you.

 “Hey, Steve’s on his way over... look, why don’t I meet you after we all get settled and have dinner?  Like 7ish?” he smiled.

You smiled back as you tried to control the butterflies that took over your stomach. “Y-yeah, sounds good.” He was quickly swept away by the blonde super soldier who was walking towards the conference room at a timely pace. You headed toward Tony’s office, taking a minute to process the events of the last hour or so. You had managed to lose yourself, replaying the dream-like encounter in your mind on loop, before reaching your destination. You shook the feeling off and allowed your knuckles to rap gently on the door's glass surface as Tony opened the door at the same time, almost trampling you in the process.

“Yea- wait no. just hold that till i get there. I’ll be- oh hey Y/N! Greg, give me a second, I’m on my way to the conference room now” he said before flipping his earpiece off. “Here to accompany me to the training briefing?” he laughed.

“Actually, I just wanted to hand off my paperwork. I need to help Pepper with the schedule for tomorrow,” you smiled warmly before grabbing the top few pages from your clipboard and extending them toward him.

“Oh right! Have fun and tell Mrs. Potts, she looks fabulous for me,” he smirked, taking the clipboard from your hands. You let a chuckle fall from your mouth as you passed him, heading towards Pepper’s office, only a few strides away. 

Again, you found your knuckles knocking on a glass door as Pepper invited you in. “Y/N! It’s great to see you! Whatcha got for me?”

You handed her your clipboard and the remaining papers on it, “I made a list of possible sparring partners with the assistance of Sergeant Barnes during the evaluation which include estimated time based on skill level. It’s a rough outline and doesn’t include instruction time but it's a start” you smiled.

“God, you are the best!” she groaned in relief, flipping through the pages of your detailed work. “Way smarter than any of the other meatheads conducting evaluation,” she laughed before placing the clipboard on the desk and grabbing another. “I managed to get a lot done during the course training so I really don’t need much else. Could you just put this on Tony’s desk when you pass his office?”

You nodded, grabbing the new paper work before pausing, “Oh! Also Tony told me to let you know how fabulous you look,” you giggled, exiting the room and dropping the papers on Tony’s desk next door. After leaving a note that it was from Pepper, you glanced down at your watch and smiled at the timely end to your day.

You found yourself leisurely wandering to your room, dropping your work of the day at the door then closing it behind you when you finally arrived. Your hands found the wooden knobs of your dresser, pulling it open then sorting through your neatly folded pajamas in an attempt to finally get comfortable. Landing on the black t-shirt that your hands now rested on, you slid off your tight leggings and revealing sweatshirt, throwing on the oversized garment in their place. You asked Friday to play some background music as you grabbed a book off the shelf that sat next to your bed before finding a seat on the long gray couch that adorned your back wall. 

Lost in the annotated pages of your favorite novel, the rain that thumped on your window added to the wonderful soundtrack your room emitted as you began to sink back into the familiar life you held here before you left. The time had escaped your mind until a soft knock thumped at your door. Your heart picked up drastically as you glanced at your watch again, this time denoting 7:00. He was punctual if nothing else.

You opened the door gently and welcomed the tall brunette in with a small nod, “Sergeant..” you giggled. 

“Ma’m” he laughed back with a small bow before making his way into your room and  reclining across your previously occupied couch. His eyes glanced over your bare legs drawing a light blush to your cheeks as you sat next to him, curling up into the corner of the gray loveseat. The comfort you had earlier in the day decreased at the lack of people around you as he started, “So you were saying something earlier.. You wanted something?”

The smile on his face infected your heart with warmth causing your body to shiver. “Y-yeah… I just wanted to know what happened last night… I mean I know what happened but I also, uh, well don’t and I know you would have never done a-anything like that but uhm..” you chuckled nervously, letting the hands that were on your knees fall down your smooth legs in an attempt to find any comfort hidden in this situation. 

His hand met yours as he assured, “Nothing happened, I promise. There were some heated words exchanged and, uhm” he cleared his throat before you cut him off with a chuckle. 

“No Buck, I-I know... “ you pointed to the now poorly covered hickey, letting your eyes fall to the ground with a small smile on your face. “I just wanted to make sure that I wasn't missing anything crucial.”

“Of course…” he said with a smile, standing up and offering you a hand. You grabbed his hand and he gently pulled you up from your seat, bringing your faces a little too close for your comfort.

“Nothing more happened than a mistake. I-I’m sure it won’t happen again” you mumbled, quickly becoming consumed in his eyes.

A cheeky grin danced onto his face as the gap between you seemed to be closing at an alarming rate. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

As you held the distance, centimeters from his face, you quickly cracked under the heavy blush that sat on your cheeks and stepped back in a sheepish manor, quickly dropping his hand and opening the door.

“Sargent,” you nodded, this time your eyes not leaving the floor.

“Ma’m.” A blush found itself on his smiling cheeks before he finally exited the room.

As you closed the door, you sank to the floor, holding your hands to your wildly beating heart.

You were made.

                                                               •••

The night passed quickly and it wasn't long before you found yourself in the gymnasium of the training hall, present for the next phase of recruitment week. The groups were divided by skill level and prospects were matched by Pepper using your scouting report. 

Director Fury led the mornings commencements, taking his rightful place upon the platform at the front of the room. “Ok listen up. We are going to start dividing into groups, pay attention and follow orders or consider yourself cut. Howell, Barker, Morton, Hale, Preston. You have been assigned to Agents Romanoff and Barton, please follow your evaluator, Agent Rooney to the training room. Cole, Duran, Gonzales, Sims, Fields. You have been assigned to Agents Rogers and Barnes, please follow your evaluator Miss. Y/L”

As continued to give instructions, you raised your arm with a smile and waved, gathering the attention of the prospects who swiftly found their spots in front of you. Turning around, you began reading off the script while leading them out of the main gym. 

“All right recruits, if you would follow me this way I will be taking you to an offshoot of the training facility. These rooms will be occupied by you and your instructors while I observe your progress and take notes on your performance. You will each battle in hand to hand combat and receive basic corrections from your instructors. This test is about strength and coordination just as much as your ability to receive criticism and be coached,” you paused, stopping in front of a black door. “This is where you will enter momentarily. In the event of an emergency, we will make a right here to return to the hallway we just came from, then another right to return to the main gym. When we enter, you will find a seat against the back wall and your instructors will be in to meet you briefly. Does anybody have any questions?” The small group all shook their heads in response. “Great, good luck!” you smiled, opening the door and letting them inside. Black walls encased the small room and the only illumination was found hanging above the giant white circle that laid upon the center of the black mats. You peeled off through the other door lining the walls and were greeted by two smiling faces upon entering.

“Did you scare ‘em?” Steve laughed as he and Bucky passed you.

You winked before giggling,“Only a little.” 

The boys entered the room, giving a very similar speech to you before calling up the first match. You watched through the one way mirror as Daniel Cole, a tall brunette built like a steam roller and Alexa Gonzales, a small brunette with an athletic build, took their places on the edge of the circle. They quickly entangled themselves, Alexa mercilessly placing hits on him with her unbelievable agility until she found herself suddenly pinned under the much bigger Daniel. 

“That was a really great job Alexa. You had him on the ropes but he managed to grab your arm. Can anybody tell me what shifted the momentum here?” Steve paused. Met with silence he continued, “With you being so much smaller than him, you can't do the normal reversal here which leaves you open to the arm bar he caught you in. Uh, let me- Y/N? Can you come here for a second?” Steve called through the glass. You tried to call back, quickly remembering the room was he couldn't hear you through the soundproof walls. You got up quickly and peaked your head through the door. 

“How can I help?” you offered with a smile.

“Can you demo an arm bar reversal on Bucky for them step by step I can walk them through it?” 

You nodded as you laid down on the mat, allowing Bucky to lock you in the arm bar and Steve to begin. “So with his legs significantly longer than her arms, she can't reconnect her hands to pull herself up,” he paused prompting you to move into your next  position. “Instead, she bridges her shoulders off the ground and rotates, pulling herself under his leg then up and over as opposed to..” his words quickly faded away as you laid on top of Bucky. You could feel his heavy breath on your neck as you held the position, desperate for Steve to say break. As if he could read your mind he speech quickly stopped causing you to jump to your feet and offer a hand to Bucky, eventually pulling him up.

 You disappeared back into the eval room more breathless and red in the face then you’d like to admit. As they continued their instruction, you found it harder and harder to maintain your composure with Bucky demonstrating throw after throw. It drove you mad watching him do what he does best and your close contact didn't help your growing want for him. As Steve handed out correction after correction, Bucky became quieter, eventually pulling Steve in and mumbling something in his ear. Steve nodded with a smile before Bucky began walking towards your door.

He slipped into the room and gently closed the door behind him. 

“Hey, do you need any help with eval?” Walking behind you, he peeked over your shoulder to read your notes and his closeness burned through your hold body. 

Without thinking, you turned your head and connected your lips to his. He quickly broke the kiss, shock written on his face through his raised eyebrows and slightly agape mouth. 

You braced yourself for the cold rejection you knew too well but much to your surprise, he pulled you up, connecting your lips again. His hands slammed roughly into your hips as he lifted you up prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. He carried you towards the door, flipping the lock before practically slamming your back into the dark wall behind you. Your teeth caught his bottom lip, drawing a groan from his slightly swollen lips, before breaking quickly to pull off your shirts. He released a quiet needy whine at the absence of your lips but was muted by them smashing into his again. Your hands ran down his chest as he put your feet on the ground and trapped your body against the wall with his large arms, opting to continue his kisses down the side of your neck. His hands ran the sides of your body feverishly, reacquainting him with the details that he had desperately tried to forget over the past year and a half. Your lips then connected with his neck, reliving memories of your own as you gently began to gently suck and nibble at his sweet spot, being careful not to leave a hickey.  

“God, you are the only one who fucking does that right,” he groaned before your lips met again. His hands slid down your waist and on to your ass as he squeezed hard enough for you to know there would be a bruise in the morning. He then moved his kiss down to your collarbone and gently bit down. Your hand found his shoulder as you lightly pushed him back, leaning for a last kiss before breaking all contact between you.

“You don’t get to leave marks if I can’t Buck....” you said softly, scooting under his arm and throwing your t-shirt back on. You tossed him his shirt next and as he slid it on over his confused face you unlocked the door, propping it open slightly. You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door before, your hand found his now clothed chest. 

You pressed up onto your tippy toes to reach his ear, “I can't be a side piece Sarge and you know that. If you decide to end it with the girlfriend, then you can mark me up. Any way you want,” you whispered before fixing his disheveled hair and fully opening the door.

[storiesforallfandoms]

done pretending ~ rodrick heffley;diary of a wimpy kid

word count: 1185

request?: no

description: after being someone she wasn’t for years to try and capture the attention of her best friend, she decides to reveal the truth to him after a major rejection

pairing: rodrick heffley x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

Rodrick watched as Heather’s friends helped her up and out of the building, a trail of chocolate following her as she went. He cringed as Heather let out another screech about her ruined dress.

“Nice show.”

He turned to see a girl standing next to him, a smug grin on her face. Rodrick almost didn’t recognize her, if it wasn’t for that familiar cocky grin along with her infamous nose ring that resulted in a month long grounding.

“(Y/N)?”

She chuckled. “I don’t look that bad, do I?”

“no, of course not!” Rodrick responded. “You just look...different.”

(Y/N) had been Rodrick’s best friend basically their entire lives. They had grown up together, (Y/N) lived only a few houses down from the Heffleys. However, before school let out for the summer, (Y/N) went on vacation with her family. In the short months between her leaving and their present reuniting, the two of them had lost touch. That was primarily Rodrick’s fault, he had been much more focused on Loded Diper and Heather Hills.

Except, the last time he had seen (Y/N), her hair was dyed with colorful streaks and her makeup matched his: dark eyeliner with dark eyeshadow. But now, her hair was back to it’s normal color and she was fresh faced, not a single hint of makeup. Rodrick had to marvel at how beautiful she looked without makeup.

“Thanks, I’m natural now,” she said, sarcastically.

“Still got that same wit I see,” Rodrick chuckled.

“You’d never recognize me if I didn’t.”

An awkward silence came between them. Both teens flinched as the lights went on, followed by Mr. Hills announcing that the party was over.

“Do you have a way home?” Rodrick asked (Y/N).

“I’m supposed to call my parents.”

“Let me take you. I have the van.”

“What about the band?”

“They have their own rides, I just need to help load the equipment.”

(Y/N) stood and watched as the members of Loded Diper put their equipment in Rodrick’s van. They greeted her warmly and told her they hoped to see her around more often. Once everything was secure, she and Rodrick got in and started their way to (Y/N)’s house.

“How has your summer been?” Rodrick asked, immediately cringing at his lame question.

“Boring,” (Y/N) sighed. “The ‘rents had me working in their store, so it was hard to really do much of anything. Doesn’t mean a phone call would’ve went astray.”

She gave Rodrick a look. He sighed.

“I’m sorry, that’s all on me. I was so focused on the band and - ”

“Heather Hills,” (Y/N) finished.

Rodrick couldn’t quite place the look on (Y/N)’s face as she gazed out the window.

“Yeah. I may have focused a little too heavily on Heather Hills this summer.”

“More than a little. You were basically obsessed with her, even before this summer. I really don’t know what you see in Heather, she’s such a bitch.”

Rodrick couldn’t deny that. It wasn’t like Heather had ever been nice to him. Sure, she had come to his house party the year before, but it was a house party, everyone in the grade had shown up. She hadn’t even been nice about the band playing at her party when her original music choice had cancelled.

It was her looks, and Rodrick knew that. She was the hottest girl in their grade, every boy was after her. It must’ve run in the family because every boy in Greg’s grade was also after Holly Hills, Heather’s little sister.

“Yeah, well, I royally screwed that up, so no worries of us being together there,” he muttered to himself.

“Good. If you ever got with Heather, I think our friendship would’ve had to end permanently.”

Rodrick looked over at (Y/N) as they came to a red light. She was looking out the window, but he could see the slight tint of pink on her cheeks and the annoyed look on her face. The thought of him being with Heather honestly made her upset, which was shocking to him.

“Why did you change your look?” he asked her as the van began to move again. “You’ve been all punk rock like me for as long as I can remember.”

“Because that’s not who I actually am,” (Y/N) responded.

“What?”

“I was playing a character, trying to impress this guy that I thought I just might have a chance with, but the truth is that’s not me. I don’t like having dyed hair and dark makeup and listening to heavy rock music. I liked being all natural, and listening to...well rock but a different kind of rock. I was done pretending, I don’t want to pretend to be someone I’m not for someone who won’t even look at me twice.”

“While I think your rocker look was pretty hot, I think who you really are is pretty hot, too. If you have to pretend to be with a guy, he’s definitely not worth it.”

(Y/N) looked over at Rodrick in shock. “You...you think I’m hot?”

Rodrick shrugged. “Well...yeah, of course I do. Everyone does.”

“No one thinks I’m hot.”

“That’s because no one has said it to you, but trust me, there are people out there who think you are hot.”

Before they knew it, Rodrick was pulling into (Y/N)’s driveway and putting his car in park. Both of them sat in silence again, waiting to see what the other would say.

“Who was this guy you were pretending for, by the way?” Rodrick asked, a slight feeling of jealousy building up inside of him.

(Y/N) smiled. “You haven’t figured it out?”

Rodrick looked at her confused and shook his head. After hesitating for a moment, (Y/N) leaned forward and gently placed her lips on Rodrick’s. At first, he was taken back and didn’t know what to do, but it didn’t take him long to melt into the kiss, cupping (Y/N)’s face and kissing her back.

The two were so lost in the kiss, they hadn’t noticed (Y/N)’s father exiting the house until he turned the porch light on. The two turned to see him standing in his robe with his arms crossed over his chest, a stern look on his face. He looked between the two before motioning for (Y/N) to come inside.

“This’ll be awkward,” she sighed. “Thanks for driving me home, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“If he asks any questions, tell him I’m taking you out tomorrow.”

(Y/N) looked at Rodrick with wide eyes before a bright smile broke out on her face. She quickly kissed his cheek before jumping out of his van and racing for the front door. Her dad started saying something to her, but she was so lost in her happiness that she barley heard him. She turned back to Rodrick and waved once before disappearing into the house with her dad.

Rodrick smiled to himself. This night turned out much better than I planned.