#sometimes I’ll glance up (for various reasons) while my dad is talking to me and he’ll be like

[welcome-to-ikea]

until this exact moment I genuinely thought that’s how everyone rolled their eyes. what.

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter Seven: Trying for Normal (Gifts)

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AO3

“You can not honestly tell me you are thinking of announcing that girl as your daughter.” Damian says, his scowl deeper than Dick had seen it in a while.

“‘That girl’ has a name, Little D. Plus she’s your sister.” Dick says, resisting the urge to nudge him. They had gotten to the point where a small nudge wasn’t a death sentence, but Damian was on edge. And a small nudge would probably not be appreciated.

“I do not care what her name is, Grayson. Since coming to Gotham she has been involved in two separate Rogue attacks. She is suspicious at best, and a nuisance at worst.” He replies, crossing his arms.

“Enough, Damian. Marinette is not a nuisance. She simply has bad luck.” Bruce says, obviously trying to defend his daughter.

“And poor self-preservation skills. Talking back to the Joker? Snarking the Riddler? For an individual with no combat training, she gets much too involved in attacks. It is idiotic.” Damian argues, shaking his head.

“It might have something to do with the Paris situation. She said she’s been at attacks before, so she must have some experience with villains. And from what I read on the Ladyblog, none of the damage in Paris lasts. She just may not realize how dangerous it is for her to do here what she would do in Paris. We just need to warn her, or, at least remind her, that Gotham is a dangerous place.” Dick says, thinking back to her reaction to the Riddler and the Joker. She was definitely more tense with the Joker, despite the fact that both villains had arrived with armed goons. Maybe she thought the Riddler was less likely to kill someone, not true. Or maybe she- Dick frowns as he remembers a key difference between the attacks.

“I just realized something.” He says with a frown.

“Care to share with the rest of the room, Dickiebird?” Jason asks, strolling in and flopping onto a chair.

“She was more tense at the attack with the Joker, she seemed to understand that it was a dangerous situation. Sure, she talked back to him, but she didn’t try to fight back or anything. But at the attack with the Riddler, he wasn’t even targeting her at first. He was targeting the boy she’d been talking to. And she was more reckless, and then she fought back. She fought well, but it was still super dangerous.” Dick rambles, pacing as he explains the predicament.

“Is there a point to this? I feel like I walked in at the wrong time.” Jason calls out from his chair, feet propped up on the table in front of him.

“My point, Jay, is that Marinette has a crush.” Dick says, shuddering at the word like it’s something disgusting. (It is, his sister is too young for crushes and boyfriends).

“Is that why she ran off with him right after the attack?” Jason asks with a smirk. Dick feels his eyes practically shoot out of his head.

“She what!?” He yells, running over to the Batcomputer to look at the security footage from the wax museum. Spots that were targeted frequently, like the wax museum, had their security footage directly linked to the Batcave. Just in case of an emergency or in case an attack happened and they needed an extra set of eyes.

“I’m sure she didn’t do anything that you wouldn’t do.” Jason teases, and Dick pales.

“Shut up, Jason!” He moans, his typing turning frantic as he scrolls through the day’s footage. He stops when he gets to the moments after the battle. When the phones of the French students had all gone off. Frowning, he watches as his sister runs up to the boy and grabs his hand, leaning in and whispering to each other before the two run out of the room. Towards the bathrooms. Oh hell no. Dick scrolls forwards, frowning when they don’t come out in five minutes. Or ten minutes. Huffing, he switches to the cameras aimed at the exits. Surely one of the cameras had to catch the pair leaving the museum. He rewinds it and watches, but...there’s nothing. They don’t leave the bathrooms and they don’t leave the museum. For the rest of the day.

“Has anyone been in contact with her since the attack?” Bruce asks from right beside him, making him jump out of his seat with a yelp.

“I don’t even have her number.” Dick says, resisting the urge to glare at his adoptive father. He might’ve had Marinette’s number had Bruce actually acted like he wanted her to be there for dinner the other day. Instead, he practically ignored her and she left. And now she was missing. Definitely missing, because she never came out of the bathroom at the museum.

“Hello, Marinette? Yes, I apologize for calling so suddenly. I was- yes. Yes, I did hear about the attack….yes, that was part of the reason I was calling. I was wondering if you would like to come to dinner at the manor. You could bring your friend, Adrien Agreste, I believe was his name. Of course. Yes. Oh no, I’ll send a car. No, no I assure you it- Marinette please. Taxis aren’t always safe after dark. Thank you. Yes, I- we’ll see you then. Goodbye.” Bruce hangs up, and Dick looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Just gonna suddenly invite her and her boy toy to dinner, B? What’re you gonna do, interrogate them?” He asks frowning.

“That’s the second time that Marinette has ran off after that alarm. I’ve seen videos of the situation in Paris and I’m concerned. Now go upstairs and act normal. I want all of you on your best behaviors at dinner. Damian, better than best please. No weapons.” Bruce directs before leaving the room, presumably to ask Alfred to pick up Marinette. Dick sighs and looks at his brothers.

“Well this isn’t going to be a disaster or anything.” He says. --- “Tikki this is going to be a disaster!” Marinette whines, throwing herself face first onto the bed. She tries to ignore Tikki’s amused giggle. This was not funny. This was dinner with her family that she hadn’t made a great impression on the first time. And Adrien was invited, and she wasn’t sure where the two stood but she was sure that if Dick was at dinner, he would just push Adrien farther away from her.

“I could practically hear your suffering from Adrien’s room, pigtails.” Plagg says, making Marinette sit up and glare at the Kwami.

“Are you just here to mock me?” She asks, pouting. He snorts.

“No, I’m here to tell you the kid’s on his way over here. I told him you were panicking and he practically ran out his door.” Plagg says with a chuckle. Rapid knocking on the door makes him laugh more before dropping onto the bed next to Tikki. Marinette sighs, rolling off the bed and pulling the door open, jumping forward in time to catch Adrien before he completely falls to the ground.

“Are you okay? Plagg said you were panicking, did something happen?” He asks quickly, looking her up and down. Marinette blinks, slightly taken aback by his sudden concern. It was nice, but still a lot all at once. Shaking her head, she gestures for him to come in and shuts the door behind him. Walking back over to the bed, she once again face plants and groans.

“She’s nervous because Mr. Wayne invited the two of you to dinner.” Tikki chirps, giggling when Marinette lifts her head up enough to glare at her.

“Traitor.” She says, dropping her head back down.

“If you don’t want me to go with Marinette, I won’t.” Adrien says. Marinette immediately jumps up, shaking her head rapidly.

“No, no that’s not what I meant. I just- I’m nervous about actually sitting through a dinner with them. And I’m pretty sure Dick will try and sit between us and glare at you like he did at the museum.” She admits, cursing the way her cheeks heat up. Adrien raises an eyebrow.

“He was glaring at me?” He asks, utter confusion on his face. Marinette groans, dropping her head into her hands.

“Sometimes your obliviousness is cute-”

“You think I’m cute!”

“But right now, it’s kinda making me want to scream into my pillow.” Marinette admits, giving him her signature “not amused” look. A look she usually saves for when Chat Noir is making a pun.

“Wait, why wouldn’t Dick like me?” Adrien asks, thankfully stuck on that now instead of the fact that she thinks he’s cute.

“Um, maybe because we were holding hands? Did you really not notice how he kept standing in between us the entire time we were at the museum?” Marinette asks, suddenly unsure if she’d imagined the whole thing.

“Oh no, I did. I just didn’t think it meant he didn’t like me. I’ve never really dealt with siblings before. I mean, I’ve met Nino’s little brother but...that’s about it.” Adrien says, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. Marinette sighs, grinning softly.

“I don’t really have a lot of experience either, so maybe I was just imagining things.” She admits. Adrien’s shoulders instantly relax and she smiles. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“So, did you want me to come with?” He asks after a moment of silence. Marinette nods, agreeing immediately.

“Please. I don’t think I can go back there alone, not yet anyway.”

“Of course, Mari. Now, what’re you wearing?” --- The ride to Wayne Manor wasn’t as quiet as her first, with Adrien making quiet jokes and saying things to try and help keep Marinette out of her head. She was thankful that he had come with, because she was definitely going to need the emotional support to get through dinner. The car stops and Marinette sucks in a deep breath. Smoothing out her skirt nervously, Marinette glances at the small, neatly wrapped package sitting between her and Adrien. It was something she had started back when she first found out she was adopted. And that her parents didn’t know her bio dad. A scrapbook with copies of everything important from her life: baby pictures, school pictures, birth announcement, report cards, clippings from newspapers where she had won or placed in contests, pictures of her early designs and recent designs, pictures of certificates and trophies from various competitions and activities. Basically a road map of her life to be given to her bio dad so that he could get to know her. She’d written her name on the front page, with the words “daughter of Bruce Wayne and Bridgette Le” underneath. A sort of amendment to her birth announcement which listed her as the daughter of Tom and Sabine Dupain Cheng. And while she definitely was their daughter, she also wanted Mr. Wayne to know that she wanted to be his daughter too. Not just by blood, which isn’t the important part. No, she wanted to get to know him and for him to get to know her. Pushing down the intruding thoughts insisting that it was too soon and that he didn’t want her in the first place, she opens the car door and steps out, clutching the package to her chest like a safety blanket.

“Would you like me to take that for you, Miss Marinette?” Alfred asks, glancing at the package.

“Oh, no thank you Alfred. It’s for my da- er, um, Mr. Wayne. I can hang onto it.” She says with a bright smile. She could do this. Sure, it didn’t go great the last time she was here. And she was pretty sure Mr. Wayne’s youngest son could kill her and wanted to kill her. But it was fine. Everything is fine. Walking through the front door, her shoulders relax slightly when she sees Dick is the only one standing there waiting for them.

“Marinette! He cheers, rushing forward and picking her up in a hug. As in, legitimately picking her up. Okay then.

“Good to see you too.” She says, trying not to show that he’s literally suffocating her with the hug.

“Good to see you again, Dick!” Adrien says cheerfully. Marinette feels Dick tense before setting her down, his smile less bright as he looks at Adrien.

“And you. Adrien, right?” He asks, sticking his hand out for a handshake.

“Yup!” Adrien says cheerfully. Marinette watches cautiously, noticing that Dick seems to be squeezing a little too hard….and then Adrien appears to match his strength, if the look on Dick’s face is anything to go by. Marinette coughs to hide a snort, her face heating up as both boys turn to look at her.

“Uh, is it just you and Mr. Wayne tonight?” Marinette asks, choosing to ignore their awkward handshake.

“Nope! It’s me and Bruce and Alfred, of course, and Jay and Tim and Damian and Cass. Steph’s not in town and Babs is having dinner with her dad.” Dick says, and Marinette’s eyes widen. There were a lot more people in her bio dad’s family than she thought. She knew about the boys, but she hadn’t seen anything about Cass, Steph or ‘Babs’.

“I didn’t realize I had sisters too.” She says instead of voicing her insecurities. Before she only had the boys to measure up against, now she had three girls too?

“Well, the only official sister is Cass. Steph used to date Tim and she just kinda stuck around. She’s practically family at this point. And Babs and I used to date, but again, she stuck around after and now she’s practically family.” Dick explains with a grin and a shrug. Cause having your exes around isn’t awkward. Or, maybe it isn’t. She doesn’t have any exes to compare it to. Just as she starts to get lost in her thoughts, she feels Adrien brush against her gently. Reminding her that he’s there, for her, giving her the strength she needs to follow Dick into the living room. Where everyone else was sitting. Oh boy.

“Marinette, so glad you could join us. And Mr. Agreste, nice to see you again.” Bruce says, standing from his spot and moving to shake Adrien’s hand.

“You as well, M. Wayne. And please, call me Adrien. Mr. Agreste is my father.” He says, and Marinette can just barely see his wince. His father always had been his least favorite subject, no matter how much or how little they spoke of him.

“Thanks for inviting us.” Marinette says, moving the package so that she’s no longer clutching it like a lifeline. Holding it out to Mr. Wayne, she laughs at his confused face. “It’s a present.” She adds.

“Oh, well, thank you.” He says, his face unreadable. Marinette shifts her weight, glancing between him and the package, waiting for him to open it. Or properly introduce her to the rest of the family. Either option would work at this point. Glancing at Dick, she sighs in relief when he claps. At least someone was going to make the first move.

“Right, so I don’t think you got the chance to meet Jason and Damian properly when you were here the other day.” Dick says, tugging her around a still frozen Bruce in front of the two boys from the other day.

“No, I didn’t. Hi, I’m Marinette.” She says, smiling and holding out a hand to Damian first. He tuts and turns away, making Marinette’s smile fall slightly before she turns to Jason. Jason grins and shakes her hand.

“Welcome to the family, kid.” He says, before whistling. “You didn’t get B’s height, that’s for sure.” He teases, Marinette snorts, her smile turning into a teasing smirk.

“Hey, don’t count me out for my height. Ever heard the phrase, small but mighty?” She asks, crossing her arms. Jason snorts, reaching out and messing up her hair.

“Whatever you say, Pixie Pop.” He replies. She rolls her eyes and turns to the other two siblings she hadn’t met.

“Hi, you must be Tim and Cass.” She says, smiling at both of them. Tim nods, his hand twitching towards his pocket. Marinette tries not to laugh, having seen Max do the same thing when he had to socialize for any amount of time. The boy was always far more comfortable with his phone in his hand, even if he wasn’t actually looking at it. Cass smiles, and Marinette notices her hands moving. “Sorry, could you repeat that, I wasn’t watching closely.” She says. Cass’ smile widens and she nods before starting over.

“Welcome to family. Nice to meet you.” Cass signs, making Marinette beam.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” She says, eyes widening when she realizes she left Adrien alone with a frozen Mr. Wayne. Whirling around, she moved back to Adrien and tugged him forward, rolling her eyes at his surprised yelp. Honestly, he should expect this by now.

“Geeze, Princess. Give a man a warning.” He says, adjusting his shirt that she’d accidentally messed up.

“Sorry k- Adrien. Sorry. Anyway, uh, everyone this is my friend Adrien Agreste. Adrien this is Jason, Damian, Tim, Cass and you already know Dick.” Marinette introduces, gesturing to each of her new siblings. Adrien shoots a wide smile, not quite his model smile but also not quite a real one.

“Nice to meet you all.” He says.

“Marinette, I apologize. Did you want me to open this now?” Mr. Wayne asks suddenly. She turns and raises an eyebrow at his unreadable expression and the way he holds onto the present like he doesn’t know what to expect. Which is fair, considering they’d only met in person the day before.

“Oh, um, if you want to. It’s nothing big.” She says, watching nervously as he nods and unwraps it. His eyebrows twitch together as he looks at the book, obviously not yet understanding.

“Open it, B.” Dick whispers, clearly understanding the gift more than their father. Mr. Wayne nods and opens it, his unreadable expression falling into one that she...still can’t read. But it’s not emotionless anymore. As he flips through the book, a small smile creeps its way onto his face and Marinette almost cheers. That’s the most sincere look she’d ever seen on the man.

“Did you put all this together?” He asks, glancing up from the book to look at her. Marinette nods.

“When I found out I was adopted, I wanted to have something to give my bio dad. So that even if he didn’t want to see me in person, he could get to know me. When I found out you’re my, um, dad, I added some personal touches.” She says.

“And I can keep this?” He asks, and Marinette’s shocked that he sounds almost scared. As if he thinks she’ll say no and take everything back. She smiles.

“Of course. My Maman and Papa already have those pictures. These are all yours.” She says.

“Thank you, Marinette. I- This is an amazing gift.” He says. Marinette’s smile widens and her shoulders sag in relief. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

[kaitycole]

Love One: the love that looks right

Summary: Ushijima has been your neighbor and best friend for most of your life, so it's no surprise that you two end up being each other's first relationship. But can a relationship that's label as perfect from the beginning, that's seen as being 'The One', can it last?

Parings: Ushijima x Reader

Word Count: 4916

Warnings: Fluff? Light angst.

Rating: 16+

A/N: This series is based on an article that talks about how in live, most of us experience three types of love. I’ll link the article in the series master post for anyone who wants to read it!

2000 – 6 years old

“Toshi! Toshi!” You ran down the steps in front of your house, skipping across the yard and into the neighboring yard, continuing to shout out of the young boy. You found him, watering can in hand, inspecting some plant whose name you can’t remember even though he’s told you several times.

A smirk appeared as you slowed your pace, creeping up behind him before you jumped onto his back, yelling his name a bit too loudly and too close to his ear. He gasped, water spilled everywhere as the can fell, and before he could balance his footing, you fell off his back, landing directly on his plant.

“Oops, sorry Toshi.” You took the hand that he offered, fixed your eyes on the tips of your shoes, tears pooled in your eyes. “It was an accident. Promise.”

He didn’t say anything, gentle hands tried to get the plant to stand, but the broken stem caused it to just fall back onto the soil. His face remained stoic and you couldn’t help but feel terrible, waiting for him to get mad at you. But he didn’t, he just stared at the broken plant, small hands tightly gripped the watering can handle.

He finally looked over at you, tears fell down your cheeks as you stood there, trembling.

He looked around until bright yellow and blue caught your eye, walking to the other side of the yard he picked up the volleyball, turning towards you. “Let’s play.”

A huge smile tugged at your lips before you eagerly agreed, running over towards him, this time just throwing your arms around him. Even though you do most of the talking and he’s usually just going along with one of your various demands, Wakatoshi always seemed to know how to make you feel better. After all, you had both promised to be best friends forever.

*                      * 2010– 16 years old

You let out a sigh, tugging at the purple tie around your neck before glancing out the window. For some reason that day just won’t end, each minute creeping by at a snail-pace, but the blur of green catches your eye. You watch at Ushijima walks through the courtyard, carrying some large box for a teacher who seems to be repeatedly thanking him and you can’t help but smile.

The Ushijimas have been in your life since before you were even born, both of your dads had attended Shiratorizawa Academy back in the day and never really lost contact, even when Utsui moved overseas. Unlike Ushijima, you have a younger brother who’s five years younger than you, but most days the two of you would be found together, usually with either him suggesting volleyball or him just dragging his feet to follow after whatever you wanted to do.

The bell finally rings, signaling the lunch break and you eagerly pack up your books before grabbing your bag and heading out to the courtyard. At first you were worried about school, wondering how you’d be able to fit in, but you ended up going to the same schools with Ushijima and even if you’d only get a small head nod, you still knew he was there. The downside was the amounts of classmates that would try to use you to get close to him, those confessing their crushes for him to you in hopes you’d spread it along with a good word. Not to mention the lack of confessions you’d receive due to the intimidating aura that surrounded Ushijima and the well-known fact you two were close.

“Y/N!” Your best friend, Ren, smiles as she waves you over to your usual table. Ren is one of the only girls who hadn’t tried to get you to talk them up to Ushijima, her sight is set on Yamagata Hayato.

“You okay? You look tired.” Tensei asks, sitting across from you, unscrewing the bottle of juice in his hand.

“The day just feels like it’s dragging for some reason.” You let out a small yawn, excusing yourself as you start to eat the lunch you packed.

“Are you—” Ren starts before she’s interrupted, a random second year coming up to your table.

“Hey, L/N-san,” she starts, “is Ushijima seeing anyone?”

You want to roll your eyes, to let out an agitated sigh and tell her to just leave, but you don’t because it’s not entirely her fault that you get asked this frequently. You couldn’t blame her, he was easy on the eyes, but it didn’t stop part of you from getting a tad bit jealous.

“He’s actually in a committed relationship with Mizuna.” Tensei says, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Or was it Misaka?” Ren teasingly add, watching the second year cross her arms as she storms off.

“You two are trouble.” You laugh, taking a bit of the sandwich you brought, “what are you gonna do when she figures out they are sporting brands?”

“I doubt it. She’ll probably spend the rest of the term trying to figure out which year and class they are in.”

You just shake your head, completely entertained by that idea, mentally noting to use that next time someone asked you about Ushijima’s relationship status. Ren and Tensei are talking about something, but your focus shifts to Ushijima as you see him and Tendou walking through the courtyard, missing the smirk that your two friends share.

“Y/N,” you snap your attention to Ren, “speaking of Ushijima, when are you two going to date?”

It feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, but when you try to breathe in, it’s an icy sensation like winter air. The topic has come up before, several times in fact, but why did this time feel different? You feel your cheeks heat up when Ushijima makes eye contact, he throws up a hand, the closest anyone gets to a wave from him.

“You guys would make a good couple.” Tensei adds, getting an encouraging nod from Ren.

“We’re just friends.” You wave them both off, hoping they’d let it go.

Ren shrugs, “I don’t know. He looks at you differently than everyone else.”

You feel your heart start to thump against your chest, the heat from your cheeks rising to your ears and all you can hear is your racing heart. Did he? Was there a chance that maybe he felt the same way you had? It didn’t take a genius to see that he’s handsome or that even if he’s not the brightest academically, he makes up for it with his athletics.

It never bothered you when you had to help him study, in fact you preferred it because the little crease he got between his eyebrows when he was determined to get something, it was one of your favorite sights. You just never bothered to voice those feelings, hoping that maybe it would help things hurt less when he started dating someone else.

** “Y/N~”

“Tendou!” You jump up from the spot you’ve been sitting outside the gym, wrapping the middle blocker into a hug.

“Have you been out here the whole time? It’s cold, Y/N!”

You give him a sheepish smile, “I forgot my jacket and was waiting for Toshi.”

Tendou shakes his head before tightening his hug around you, he’s warm and you try to soak up the heat. “Ushijima, give me your jacket.” “You have yours on, why do you need mine?” “Just hand it here.” Tendou leans his head backwards to see Ushijima, “please~”

Unfazed, the wing spiker slips out of his jacket, handing it over. Tendou takes it and drapes it over your shoulders, it practically swallows your smaller frame.

“Thanks,” you mumble, basking in the warmth the oversized jacket brings you, your nose burying into the collar as you take in Wakatoshi’s scent. Your eyes widen when you realize what you’re doing, the heat you felt at lunch covering your face again.

“Y/N?” The tall olive-brown haired boy calls out to you and you slowly peak around Tendou, who has a mischievous grin on his face.

“Hey there, Toshi!” You grip the strap of your bag a bit tighter.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, I’d have given you my jacket before practice.” There’s a flicker of concern in his eyes as he walks closer to you.

“I was fine, really.” You smile up at him before Tendou announces his departure leaving just the two of you. It’s not an uncommon situation, you grew up together but for some reason ever since lunch, just the topic of Ushijima leaves you a mess. Ren’s comment from lunch running through your mind repeatedly.

He looks at you differently than everyone else.

“Ren said we should date.” You tell him, laughing as you recall the conversation. The walk to your dorms is rather peaceful, the two of you exchanging highlights of your day, er well more of you talking about everything that happened while Ushijima listens.

“Okay.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s date then.” Ushijima says matter-of-factly, before he leaves you standing in front of your dorm, dazed and confused, as he heads towards his.

** Your eyes are closed, sleep still weighing them down as you sling your bag over your shoulder, opening the door of your room to head out. But you stop abruptly when you feel yourself run into something, or rather someone and looking up confirms it’s Toshi.

“Uh—” You’re at a loss for what to say, this wasn’t something that happened…ever. Sure, you’d both would sometimes hang out in each other’s rooms, but he never just showed up to yours first thing in the morning.

“Good morning, Y/N.” His voice is his usual even tone which confuses you even more because Ushijima didn’t do anything without a reason, everything had purpose.

“Toshi?” He raises an eyebrow at your question, “don’t take this the wrong way, but uhm, why are you here?”

“Tendou said people in relationships do things like walking to classes and such together. Should I not have come?”

For the first time in 10 years, Ushijima looks unsure and even a bit nervous which is new to you. He’s always put together on the court and at school that it’s almost refreshing to know this was as nerve-wracking for him as it is you.

“I like that you came.” You smile up to him, closing your door before you both begin walking down the hallway. The warmth his hand brings yours causes your heart to thump against your ribs, his larger hand embracing yours. “Tendou tell you about that too?” “No, I figured this out on my own.” He clears his throat, looking away from you but slow enough for you to catch the faint blush under his eyes.

** A month had passed since you and Toshi started dating before you had been able to go home and tell both sets of parents. You felt that a phone call would’ve sufficed, if you were honest, Toshi’s mom scared you a bit, but he persuaded you that in person was better.

The first half of the dinner is awkward, the atmosphere feels heavy around you as you engage in simple small talk about your studies and clubs, luckily for you Toshi had lots to say about volleyball and took over the conversation.

“Anything new in your lives?” Toshi’s mom gave you a look and you could’ve swore that she already knew.

“Actually, Y/N and I are dating.” Toshi’s tone is flat and even, throwing you off on how he just continues eating after dropping such a bomb. It wasn’t lost on you that his family still has traditional views and part of you wonders if you’re good enough to fill the spot at his side. A comforting hand is placed on your thigh, as if he’s read your mind and you smile to yourself.

“That’s wonderful news.” His mother smiles, turning to yours before they start discussing officially announcing the relationship (whatever that meant) and how it was about time the two of you got together. Listening to them going on and on about things made a lot of your worries fade away, it was a relief that they both were so onboard with the relationship.

*                      * 2011 – 17 years old

It’s been a year since you started dating Ushijima and it’s been a lot different that you thought it would be, not that you thought about it that much. And while things didn’t seem to change all that much, they changed completely. You weren’t just two friends walking to classes, but a couple. You weren’t just watching his matches like a childhood friend, but as a supportive partner.

When you had thought of dating, of being in a relationship, there was always the anticipation of getting to know your partner, but with Ushijima, you don’t get that. With Ushijima, it’s just seeing what you’re always known within a different light, but somehow that makes you feel like he’s ‘The One’ because how romantic is it to fall in love with the one who has been by your side for as long as you can remember? Even with the deep level of comfort you two share, your face still heats up when he reaches down to grab your hand, when he leans to kiss you goodnight and even when someone refers to him as your boyfriend.

*                      * “SHIIIIRATORIZAWA!!”

The beatings of drums and cheers of support fill the gymnasium, your voice getting hoarse from chanting as loudly as you can. For as long as you can remember, you attended Toshi’s volleyball games and somewhere during one of the games you found yourself truly loving the sport. Nothing really changed now that you were dating, other than the fact you seemed your swell up with even more pride when he hit spike or made a service ace and you were also seen sporting one of his spare athletic jackets with a simple purple shirt.

There was just something special about seeing the person you love doing something they’re so passionate about that make it impossible to not smile the whole time you’re watching them.

“You two are the cutest couple!”

“Oh, thank you.” Even after a year, you still weren’t used to people commenting on your relationship, mostly because no other relationship was talked about as much as yours.

“Talk about a perfect match!”

Another classmate seems to appear out of nowhere, adding the other comments, “I’m so jealous!”

You try to drown out their conversation, not wanting to hear about their surface deep comments, but you can’t. Standing up you look at the court one more time, Ushijima clearly in his element, a few points away from taking not just the set, but the match. Then, for the first time since you started attending his matches, you left the game early.

** “So, Y/N, when’s the wedding?” Ren jokes, getting a glare from Tensei who wants to get back to the focus of their gathering: studying for their upcoming math exam.

“What?” There’s a lot more panic in your voice that you intended and you can’t help but feel your face burn with embarrassment. You grab your math textbook, trying to hide your face before either of them sees, but of course they do.

“You and Toshi, are you planning to get married out of high school? Or waiting until after college?”

“Clearly Y/N wants to get back to studying. You remember, the whole reason we are here?” Tensei side eyes Ren before shaking his head. The two start to bicker back and forth, arguing about if breaks are really needed during studying or if they just cause unnecessary distractions that derail the whole point.

Your thoughts have you far from their debate and more so on what Ren asked. Marriage, it wasn’t like you didn’t think about it happening…eventually. But lately the whole concept, even the word alone has you on edge.

Back when you first started dating, you two were quick to share the news with your families and while you had a feeling they assumed this would happen eventually, they still seemed thrilled. Part of you could barely contain your happiness that your relationship had been accepted so quickly, knowing from movies and books you’ve read, not all relationships get family support. Another part of you was filled with a sinking feeling, a fear that eventually as your relationship grew and matured, the expectations from your families would increase, and they were doing just that.

Just a few weeks ago, you heard both of your mothers talking about it between themselves, seemingly making plans without any consideration of you or Toshi’s feelings. After that it left you wondering about your future and how your plans would fit into the heavy expectations the Ushijimas seemed to already have. Remembering the almost pitying laugh Toshi’s mother had given when you mentioned going to college and how she was quick to remind you that someone had to be the stay-at-home parent with children and Toshi couldn’t since he had a promising future in volleyball.

** “Happy birthday, Y/N!” Ren, Tensei and Tendou shout at you, crossing the courtyard to get closer to the table you were sitting at. Embarrassment crept across your skin, feeling like everyone’s eyes were suddenly on you, something you hated.

“Thanks.” You give them all a tight ‘please never do that again’ smile which just makes them laugh.

“Y/N.”

The voice causes you to quickly turn and you see Toshi standing there, a slightly obnoxiously large bouquet in his hand and you wish you hadn’t felt so embarrassed over your friends because now you definitely knew people were looking.

It had been a while since you and Toshi had gotten together for more than ten minutes, his schedule had gotten busier, you couldn’t remember when he was ever this busy before. You couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he remembered your birthday and gotten you something.

“Toshi!” You throw your arms around him, smiling even more when he tells you happy birthday, loud  enough for just you to hear.

Comments about how cute you two were, how great a relationship you had start to fill the courtyard and while you usually get sick of hearing it, it reminded you that you didn’t have much to complain about. Sure, Toshi’s schedule seemed to get busier every day, but he still carved time out for you and that’s what really mattered.

*                      * 2012 – 18 years old

You look up and towards the door when you hear the bell ring, hoping that it’s Toshi. The two of you agreed to meet up at a café before seeing a movie, he was running a bit late because he had a meeting with Coach Washijō. A deep sigh leaves you as you realize that it’s not Toshi and instead you are still alone.

DING!

Toshi: Coach Washijō wants me to meet with some alumni players. (12:31PM) Toshi: I can’t make it today. (12:32PM)

You should’ve seen it coming, honestly. He has always been a force in the volleyball circuit, but with graduation coming up and professional scouters about, he seems to be in even more demand. You are proud of him, proud of all he’s accomplished, but as his partner, you felt like you were just getting the short end of the stick most of the time.

** “I’m all yours today, I promise.” Toshi says, standing at your room door, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You can’t help but smile, you’re still upset about yesterday, but you know he’s trying and that the small amount of free time he actually gets, he spends with you. You step aside and let him in and he takes a seat in your desk chair, even after years of being friends and almost two years of dating, he refuses to just sit on your bed. He really could be a huge dork sometimes.

“Did you have something in mind?” You wrap your blanket back around you, originally planning to spend your free Sunday catching up on shows you missed.

“Anything you want to do, I owe you.”

A mischievous smirk crosses your face as you jump up, rushing into the bathroom. “Face masks!”

He nods, “whatever you want.”

** You look over at your calendar that’s hanging on the wall, today’s date is circled and you feel a little silly for being so upset. Today marks two years with Toshi, but for what felt like the hundredth time this month, you were in your room alone. He had sent flowers and a small gift, of course, he never missed sending something on anniversaries, birthdays or other holidays, but coming second to volleyball was getting old.

The part of you that is petty wants to think Coach Washijō is doing it on purpose, but what did you think would happen when dating one of the top 3 aces in Japan? Still, you just thought this time could be different. Then you were hit with an overwhelming feeling that this would be your life. At least your life if you ended up staying with Toshi. He would go pro, you knew that and with his family’s traditional ways, you’d end up staying at home with children your mothers had envisioned for you, not bothering to ask either of you what you wanted.

Waiting, that’s what their future held for you, just waiting for him to come home. And just like yesterday and today, every day would just feel the same.

Did you want that?

There was nothing wrong with those who wanted that life, but it wasn’t ever what you thought yours would be. You wanted to go to a good university, to join the career field you dreamed of and definitely saw traveling in that future.

What’s worse that the feeling of a bleak future is knowing if you told Toshi, he’d do anything he could to fix it. And what’s worse that that is the feeling that while you love him so much you could feel it deep in your bones, a future without him was more desirable that one with him.

How could a relationship that seemed so perfect to everyone around you, feel so wrong to those in it?

** “Mom?”

“Hmm?”

Finals were just around the corner and Toshi had thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to visit home, not to mention being at home meant less volleyball obligations and more time he could spend with you.

“I don’t think things are going to work out with Toshi.”

The room stilled, though you’re sure if it had been a movie scene, the glass vase in her hands would’ve shattered as it hit the ground.

Yesterday when you two got home, both your parents had been acting strange, so happy that it was like they were floating. It wasn’t until later in the night when you met up with Toshi for a walk that he told you his mother mentioned you two getting engaged, dropping not subtle hints of a post-graduation proposal.

The ground fell from beneath you, all the air in your lungs being sucked out, the only thing saving you was how Toshi told you that he didn’t agree with her plans. That you two should be the ones discussing it, not your parents and that his focus on volleyball blurred out things like proposals and weddings. Even with those words, you still knew how hard it would be for family-oriented Wakatoshi to go against his family; the thought of how different he would be if his dad had raised him crossed your mind.

“Whatever the problem is, I’m sure you can fix it.”

You snort, how cliché for her to blame you. “I just don’t know if our futures line up. We both want such different lives.’

She finally turns to face you, her jaw clenched, “nonsense, you two are perfect together.”

Perfect.

That word has long been on a list of words you hate, one you are tired of hearing, sick of being called that when you know it was far from true. By definition, it means having desirable qualities or characteristic, something that was as good as it could possibly. If you tried hard enough to see your relationship from an outsider’s perspective, maybe after you squint hard enough you could see it. Could understand why perfect was used, how great things looked. You had a boyfriend who would try to move the sun for you if you asked, one who did his best to be there for you and see every chance he got, on the surface level you really had nothing to complain about.

But on the inside, you were two ships passing in opposite directions. Maybe it was true that some relationships are just too good to be true, that some people are better as just friends, that some friendships can’t last when changed to a relationship.

** “Y/N~”

You look over to see Tendou practically skipping towards you, a smile on his face while he wrapped his arms around you from behind, leaning to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Tendou!”

“What’s wrong?” He lets go of, taking the empty seat beside you. You had been sitting on a bench, hoping some fresh air could clear your head. It was just a few days until graduation and the looming expectations of both families started weighing down more, plus Toshi was even more busy with volleyball since word got out that he had gotten a few offers already, so you didn’t have anyone to really talk to about it.

“Nothing. Just tired.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know Tendou doesn’t believe you. He had an uncanny ability to pick up on things like that.

“Tell me, Y/N.”

That’s all it took for you to finally break, the mix of the gently words and his soft tone. He listened as you tell him about Toshi’s traditional family (most of which he already knows) and the over the top expectations both your families seem to have.

How a future together seems more like a nightmare than a dream come true but not because you don’t love him, maybe because you love him too much. Love him so much that you don’t want him pushed into some life just or being with you. And by the time you finish up by telling him how it’s been hurting you to hold everything in, not wanting to burden Toshi, you are in tears.

** “Can we talk, Y/N?”

You nod, biting on the inside of your cheek. Graduation had been a week ago and since coming home, your parents (namely mother) had been discussing wedding plans and wondering just when Toshi would pop the questions, so it’s no surprise when they light up when seeing it’s him at the door.

He takes your hand, gently squeezing when he feels you flinch, the notion instantly calming you. He motions for you to sit on a bench in the nearby park that you’ve been walking towards, but when he sighs, you start to worry.

“I spoke to Tendou a few days ago and he helped me understand a few things.” “Toshi, I—”

He holds up a hand, “please let me talk first.”

You nod, noting a small crack in his voice as he squats in front of you, taking your hands.

“My life has always been volleyball, it’s what I’m good at and I know that being a boyfriend isn’t something I’m good at. But even with that, you still carried our relationship even when you stopped being happy.” He keeps his eyes focused on your hands, leaving you to look at the top of his head. “Now It’s time for me to take the burden from you and I’m okay with being the bad guy if it means that you’ll smile like you used to. So, Y/N, will you break up with me?”

You burst into laughter and tear, knowing that he must’ve been given that words from Tendou and practiced them ‘because it didn’t sound like him. “Our parents are going to be disappointed.” He shrugs, “I’ll blame volleyball.”

You wipe the tears from your cheeks, the sleeve of your sweater gets a bit damp. “It hurts because I love you so much.”

He grabs your wrists, tugging you into his chest, the calming scent of his body wash soothes you. “I love you too.”

“Is it selfish to ask if we can still be friends?” You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, fresh tears pricking your eyes. How was it fair that two people who love each other so deeply, just weren’t meant to be? You didn’t have a breakup to compare this one too, but you didn’t think anything else could ever hurt this much.

“I believe someone declared we’d be friends forever. I might have been a bad boyfriend, but I think I’m a good friend.”

Smiling, you look at him, he wipes the tears away with his thumb, his hand cupping your cheek. “I don’t think you were a bad boyfriend, just a busy one.” “You were a perfect girlfriend.” He stands up, pulling you to your feet as well.

“I can still come to your games, right? Having an ex wouldn’t be too weird?” “No. I’ll always need my number one fan.”

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

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[iidascalves]

First patrol (Hawks x reader)

So I got a little carried away writing the beginning of this one, but I just REALLY love Mirko. I wasn’t sure what to use as the reader’s quirk so I just did the ability to create telekinetic force fields with energy in different shapes and shit. Also, (h/n) will mean your hero name. Once I finished I writing this I decided it was a little long so I split it into two parts. I guess this first part can be considered a various x reader lol. I’ll post part 2 soon! I’m having a lot of fun with these so please don’t be shy to send requests or asks! Thanks :)

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“THAT’S NOT FUCKING FAIR” Bakugou screeched in the common room.

“I literally don’t know what you want me to say.” You stared blankly at Bakugou as he was practically foaming at the month. His hands began to emit smoke.

“Kacchan, calm down! (Y/n), I’m happy you got such a great opportunity!” Izuku tries to congratulate you while holding a death grip on Bakugou’s arm. “You and Mirko will make a great duo!”. You smiled at his reassurance and braced yourself for his detailed mutterings about the specifics of both your and your future mentor’s quirks.

“Thank you. I’m excited but nervous.” You shifted in your seat while your hands were in tight fists. “I’m excited to prove myself.”

“I’ve met Mirko before. She’ll enjoy working with you, I’m sure of it.” Todoroki spoke for the first time all evening from the dinner table as he slurped cold soba. You honestly had forgotten he was there.

“Oh yeah! Your father and Mirko team up sometimes, right?” Izuku mentioned as he turned on the couch to face Todoroki.

“Yes.” Todoroki took a slurp of soba before continuing. “If you run into him, be wary. He’s more concerned about his reputation than a rookie looking for guidance or protection. That’s why Hawks does his own thing most of the time. My dad can’t be bothered with anyone else.”

“I’m sure (y/n) will be in good hands with Mirko.” Izuku tried to ease the tension in the room. As Todoroki is a man of few words, it’s rare for him to share things like this. You decided you should head to bed to prepare for your long day tomorrow.

“Alright guys. Thanks for chatting with me. I’m off to bed.” After replies of good nights and wishes of luck, you tried sleep off the anxiety until tomorrow.

_____________________________________________________________

“Ready to rumble, (y/n)?!” Mirko enthusiastically greeted you when you entered her office.

“Yes Ma’am! Thank you for letting me join you today!” You bowed to Mirko and straightened up as you heard her walking toward you.

“No need to be so formal!” Mirko gave you a big slap on the back as she passed you. With your back aching and stinging, you closely followed her to the elevator. “I don’t take just anyone out to patrol with me, (Y/n). You got something special, kid.” She gave you a large smile as the elevator door closed. You were thrilled to finally start your internship, with your idol none the less.

“Thank you, Rumi. It means a lot coming from you.” You tried to calm the reddening of your face as you two descend to the lobby of her agency.

“Don’t sweat it! And remember that on the street I’m Mirko. Right, (h/n)?” Mirko smiled at you as the elevator rang.

_____________________________________________________

After a few hours of patrol you and Mirko still hadn’t had any calls or serious confrontations. Although popperazzi and other media outlets seemed to follow you both everywhere, they were only taking pictures from a distance as not to interfere. “Sorry that this is such a quiet day. I wanted to see you in action!” Mirko began chatting with you and you two walked.

“No, it’s alright. Something is bound to come up anyway, right?” You smiled and continued to survey your surroundings. A teenage boy ran up.

“You’re Mirko, right?” His face was a deep red.

“The one and only! Want a picture or something?” Mirko smiled at the boy. His head whipped around before his eyes frantically landed on you.

“Hi. Can you take our picture, please?” You held up the fan’s phone to take a picture with Mirko.

“1,2,3, smile!” You continued taking a few pictures until Mirko put her hand up to her ear intercom. You handed the phone back to the guy and awaited news. Mirko nodded at you after coming off the intercom.

“Let’s go. No time to waste.” Mirko turned serious as she dashed off to the lower part of town. You used your quirk to manifest a board to ride on in order to keep up.

As unfamiliar buildings flew past, you couldn’t recall seeing the surrounding landmarks on the sheet of information Mirko gave you about your sector.

“Mirko, are we close?” You grew anxious and unsure as you approached the scene.

“Yeah,” Mirko grinned as she gained momentum by swinging off a lamppost. “Stay sharp. This is uncharted territory for you.” You nodded and picked up speed, feeling the wind press against you.

Finally, you saw the scene you were summoned to. A monstrous villain was holding a car with a family trapped inside above his head. You didn’t recognize the villain, he was most likely an angry civilian that snapped. The villain was towering about thirty feet above you. He was angrily screaming, the veins on his neck and arms were bulging and strained. It was obvious this guy never used his quirk like this before.

“You think he used an enhancer?” You kept your eyes glued to the car the villain gripped.

“Probably.” Mirko’s smirk wavered and her brows furrowed. “Bunch of bastards have been juicing up and wrecking shit recently.” The villain began to shake the car and screech in anger.

“I’ll get the car, you get the guy?” You asked Mirko as your eyes focused in on the car and you activated your quirk.

“Read my mind. Just give me a boost.” Mirko smirked and slid a foot back in preparation to jump. “Let’s go.” Mirko lept sideways causing the villain to whip his head in her direction. You raised your left hand and manifested a platform under the car. Your right arm shot out as you made a small platform about seven feet in the air for Mirko to vault off of. Your eyes remained on the car as you heard Mirko’s feet pound on the platform and you saw a swift white streak knock the villain from under the vehicle. While Mirko repeatedly kicked the villain into submission, you lowered the car with the clamoring family to the ground. You ran to the car and escorted each member to the side where a small crown was gathered. You turned to see Mirko with the villain in a suffocating leg triangle. The villain’s screeching quieted and his body began to lose muscle and shrink.

“Mirko, should we take him in for questioning?” You pulled handcuffs out of your pocket and placed them into Mirko’s outstretched hand.

A gust of wind passed behind you making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You also felt an intense warmth behind you. “We can take him off your hands. You’re in our jurisdiction after all.” You spun around to see Endeavor and Hawks. Your hands clenched and your chest tightened at the sight of the two top heroes.

“Number 1 and 2, always a pleasure.” Mirko hauled the villain to his feet. “So what if we’re in your jurisdiction? You guys didn’t get here fast enough. That’s why we were called.” Mirko smirked.

“Mirko,” Endeavor began to speak. ” we were being briefed on an important future mission. Our delay was expected so they called you and uhh.. Shouto’s classmate.”

“’Shouto’s classmate’ is not the name of my intern, Endeavor.” Mirko put a hand on her hip and raised a brow at the number one hero. Her ears perked up at the arrival of an idea. “How about this: we walk this jerk to the precinct and do introductions over some lunch?”.

“As long as the place has chicken.” Hawks smiled at Mirko. You wanted to admire his handsome features, but decided against it out of fear of embarrassment if he caught you. “Endeavor treats since he was the reason we’re late!”. Endeavor crossed his arms and sighed. He then began walking in the direction of the precinct. Mirko and Hawks shared a laugh and Mirko began hauling the villain behind Endeavor. You paused before following. Your eyes were still trained on Endeavor. You wondered if he would have cooperated at all if you fought with him instead of Mirko. Hell, he didn’t even bother to learn your name after being friends with Shouto for the past year.

“So what’s your deal, kid?”. Hawks was suddenly walking by your side. You tensed at his sudden presence and looked ahead towards Mirko.

“My deal?” You glanced at him to see if his eyes were still on you, eyes briefly meeting before your head turned.

“Yeah. Does Endeavor spook you or something?”

“No.” You could feel your face getting warm. “He’s just intimidating, I guess. And hearing what Shouto has to say about him doesn’t really help.” You didn’t like being questioned like this.

“I get that. He’s a shitty dad.” Hawks stretched as you two walked. “He’s also a pretty difficult guy to get to know. He’s starting to change for the better though. But his social skills are still shit.” Hawks looked over at you to make sure his remark made you smile. He knew if he kept talking you’d loosen up and get more comfortable. “How’s your first patrol going?”

You glanced at him and smiled. “I can’t complain about lunch with the top two heroes.” Hawks laughed.

“Yeah, I guess. I’d say you’re doing pretty well for your first time. Mirko doesn’t team up with just anyone, you know.” Your face got even warmer as you became flustered once again.

“I’m mainly only good for defense and rescue.” You looked away from Hawks and started to fidget with your hands.

“Don’t be modest, kid. I saw you rescue that family back there.” Your face was own fire upon hearing his praise. “Also saw you kick ass at the sports festival. If it were up to me, I’d have you do more offense training.”

“T-thanks.” You said shyly as you scanned around you for something to look at to distract you from your own embarrassment. Things remained pretty quiet as you continued to walk to the precinct.

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 35

Chapter 35

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to the anon who gave a suggestion for this. I honestly hadn’t considered it in the story; but it actually made sense given how little Fred and Y/N had spent talking about it.

Warning: Angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, smut

Word Count: 7100

You are in the lobby of the hockey arena waiting for Oliver. The twins are asleep in their stroller; you gently rocking it back and forth to help them nap. The game ended over twenty minutes ago and Fred went to the change room to help get him out of his hockey equipment.

It’s been a couple weeks since Fred’s injury; he has been home for most of it. When at the rink he has been spending his time with trainers off the ice. That was until yesterday, he managed to do a short session with the goalie coach and some basic drills but likely won’t be back until after Christmas.

You know it’s been hard for him, since that game the team fell into a slump. They have won a few games in regulation, but overall the team is struggling being outplayed and outscored. The hardest part for him is feeling completely helpless because he is sidelined.

As he started to improve he was able to spend more time with the kids; and Oliver has been loving getting all the cuddles from Fred. Today Fred decided to join you at Oliver’s hockey game.

You were a little unsure of the idea, not wanting it to be too much for him, but he reassured you he would be fine; and once Oliver heard you knew there was no way Fred wouldn’t come. After helping Oliver get in his equipment Fred told you he was beaming in the change room; his smile never fading, introducing Fred to everyone though he has already met them earlier in the season.

You look down at your watch; it’s almost 10:45, your stomach growling loudly. You ate breakfast at seven, but around now you normally would have a snack but forgot to pack something. The little baby in your belly really making the eating for two seem like a reality right now. Finally you see Fred leave the change room carrying Oliver’s hockey bag in one hand and holding his hand with his other.

Your son is practically skipping as he makes his way down the hall. As soon as he sees you he releases Fred’s hand and takes off running to you “Mommy!”

You catch him mid jump “good game buddy!” you say squeezing him.

“Did you see me?”

“Yeah you were great” you reply “you played awesome. Looked like your daddy in net” you say and he smiles at your words. The biggest compliment for him is being compared to his hero.

“Where is your dad?” you ask him realizing Fred hasn’t made his way to you.

“People wanted his picture” Oliver shrugs confused.

“Yeah people are excited to see him” you respond scanning around the hockey arena.

As soon as you sat down there was whispers and a couple kids came up asking for pictures. It’s something you have learned to get used to over the past few years.

Fred is always willing to take pictures with fans, especially kids. Every time he apologizes even though you have told him countless times you don’t mind. You love how he interacts with fans, and how taking a few minutes makes their day. While you understand how important fan engagement is, Oliver doesn’t understand the hype around it. To him Fred and all the other players are just people, normal people he knows.

“Did you see my save? The one I stopped with my stick” you hear Oliver ask and you dive into a conversation with your son about his game.

Your eyes find Fred standing with a woman and her son, who is Oliver’s age. You engage in the conversation with your son but can help and notice the large smile on her face, how her dark brown hair shines under the lights. While it’s not uncommon for Fred to talk to the parents of young fans, you notice how close she is standing and how her child doesn’t seem interested in him at all.

You gently set Oliver on the ground while the two of them continue to chat away. You drop random “uh huh” or an “oh really” but you lose all focus when you watch her hand touch his bicep while they laugh at something he said.

You swallow a lump in your throat and take a deep breath but it doesn’t stop you from feeling like the walls are shattering around you. You hear Oliver babbling away but his voice continues to fade away into the background. Your stomach almost jumps into your throat and your chest tightens. You tell yourself it’s nothing, that you don’t be concerned. And you almost believe it, that is until you watch her stroke up his arm.

“Mommy” Oliver pulls on your sleeve and grabbing your attention.

“Yeah bud” you say snapping your eyes down to his.

“I said I’m thirsty” he repeats.

“Oh” you reply with a shaky voice. You fumble into your bag and pull out your water bottle handing it to him. When you look back to where Fred was you notice he is gone and you turn your attention back to Oliver

Finally you feel the familiar touch of Fred’s hand on your back and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your entire body stiffens against his touch, you reach down to take the bottle back from Oliver to hide the real reason you pulled away.

“Ready?” he asks taking the stroller from you, while you take Oliver's hand as he skips in excitement. The drive is filled with Oliver’s excited chatter from the back seat, you stare out the window not having much to say.

Fred’s hand reaches across the car finding your stomach, slowly rubbing over your bump. You relax into the seat, Fred chuckling while Oliver rambles on about his friends on his team. You replay the scene from the arena over and over in your head, you remember she was in the stands; her son having played against Oliver. But did she look towards Fred, did his eyes wander?

“Can I mom?” Oliver calls out and Fred gently nudges you with his hand.

“Hmm what was that?” you ask being brought back from your trance.

You feel Fred glare at you from the side of his eye “Kyle said I could have a sleepover at his house” he repeats “can I?”

You chuckle slightly knowing this is one of his friends on the team, after every game or practice he always has something funny to tell you that Kyle said or did. “I’ll have to talk to his parents” you respond.

“Yeah talk to them mommy” he cheers and Fred laughs shaking his head.

“We will but not today, we have the party this afternoon” Fred says pulling into your driveway.

As soon as the car is in park Oliver jumps out the car “when’s the party daddy?”

“In a couple hours” he says grabbing Noah “after lunch.”

Oliver runs into the house leaving his boots and coat in a pile on the floor and making his way to the living room. You take the twins and follow him while Fred takes his hockey equipment to air out. You have a relaxing afternoon, Oliver plays with his Lego and various toys, the twins nap and play on their activity mat. You rest on the couch scrolling through your phone aimlessly.

Multiple times over the next few hours you feel Fred’s eyes find you. His eyes are soft but full of concern. He can sense something is wrong, but he also doesn’t know if it’s just the pregnancy dragging you down today. Instead of asking he gives you time in case you are just tired, thinking maybe you just need some time to rest.

“The boys are cute” Kathy says giving you a hug while you stand at the snack table. You laugh lightly seeing the twins in plaid shirts and vests, one of them held in Fred’s arm while Oliver immediately took off to find his friends. You didn’t dress them, Fred actually had their coats on before you came downstairs so you had no idea all your boys were matching until you got here.

He bounces them in his arms and shoots you a smile when he catches you staring. He aims them towards you and their green eyes light up when they see you. A half smile crosses your face, but Fred senses the emptiness behind it and a scowl crosses his. You look away with a displeased groan grabbing a cup.

“How are you doing?” she asks as you pour some water.

“We’ve been good; now that Fred’s symptoms are mostly gone it’s been better. Oliver loves having him around though” you respond taking a sip.

“That’s great but I asked how you are. Seems like something is going on” she says softly. “Having him at home the past few weeks should be good. You two are almost nauseating to watch sometimes. You came in after him, and haven’t spent a second beside him and don’t think I didn’t see whatever that was” her index finger pointing between the two of you.

You laugh a little and turn towards her “we’re fine” you lie.

You hear her groans as she grips your hand pulling you down the hall to the bathroom, locking the door behind you. “Spill.”

You roll your eyes and back up against the counter. Anyone else wouldn’t have given you a second glance, some would have bought your fake smiles and those that didn’t would have assumed it was hormones or exhaustion from the pregnancy. But not Kathy; she knows you too well.

You start by telling her how it’s nothing and how you are overreacting; that you are likely reading too far into it. You get into the woman at Oliver’s hockey game, how they seemed to be really close, too close. You tell her how when he said something she touched his arm and gently grazed over his muscles.

You ramble for twenty minutes and at the end finish by saying how you have no idea what they talked about. It could have been about him donating time or merchandise for a charity event; that they were so far away you couldn’t hear anything.

You expect her to tell you you’re overthinking it. That it could have been nothing, or maybe she was trying to flirt with him but that doesn’t mean anything. That you can’t get upset over what strangers do. That just because she flirted with Fred it doesn’t mean he flirted back.

Instead she takes a deep breath and walks over to you, wrapping her arms around you. She holds you for a few minutes saying nothing. The silence is deafening; you swear you feel the walls closing in around you before you finally speak.

“During the playoffs last year when I was pregnant Fred kissed someone else.”

You can tell by her silence and that her eyes not meeting yours that she already knew that.

You thought saying those words would be liberating; finally telling someone what he did. Instead you feel yourself fall apart, sobbing into her shoulder. Your hands tighten around her back, clenching on the fabric of her sweater. Your body shakes against hers; warm tears staining her shirt.

Her hands gently run up and down your back; soothing you. You grip her shirt tighter, swallowing the lump in your throat until your eyes begin to dry.

“Sounds like you and him have some stuff to talk about.”

You thought this had been left in the past, you had accepted and processed it and dealt with all your emotions. But now after watching what should have been a harmless interaction you realize you have some unresolved feelings and paranoia. Likely because you never had a dedicated conversation about everything that happened.

You basically shut Fred out for days while you processed everything. You wanted to calm down and think over everything; make sure you didn’t say something you would regret. Once you had your time you were going to invite Fred to share your bed again and begin to have the conversations needed to move on.

Then the car accident happened. Fred tried to talk with you after but at that point it didn’t seem important to you. You had long decided you were going to forgive him, and with everything that happened focusing on your recovery and the twins seemed more important than tearing open old wounds.

You and Fred should have sat down; even for a brief conversation. What happened today should have been nothing, it shouldn’t have triggered you the way it did. Fred didn’t do anything besides stop to take a picture with a child; this woman decided to touch him. And he was at your side in under a minute of that happening, making it pretty obvious he got away as quick as possible. If your trust hadn’t of become fractured seven months ago you wouldn’t be in your head right now.

Once you return to the party you feel Fred’s eyes immediately find you. He can see the redness in your eyes and the puffiness of your cheeks. He knows you have been crying, but what makes it worse is you are blocking him out. You can feel the pleading of his eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to make eye contact.

He watches while you get a snack, while you chat with some of the women. He smiles watching you and Oliver decorate stockings, part of the Christmas crafts the team has set up. He laughs watching when Oliver shakes his, spilling the excessive amount of glitter onto your lap. To everyone else you seem happy, like you are having a great night.

You feel his eyes burning a hole in you and eventually find his gaze, his entire face lights up; he thinks maybe he was right, maybe the pregnancy is just tiring you out. But Fred sees the emptiness behind your eyes, the hollowness in the half smile. You swear you hear his heart fall as you pull your eyes from him.

“You ready for Santa” you ask walking up beside Fred a few moments later; bouncing the twins in your arms. They coo in response having no idea what you are saying. But Oliver who is clinging to Fred’s neck cheers in response.

“When is Santa coming daddy?” he asks eyes lighting up.

“I heard that his sleigh landed on the roof a few minutes ago” he says and you watch as Oliver’s eyes go wide. You hear some jingling of bells and Oliver drops down eagerly running to the group of children. The entire room erupts as he walks in, but Fred places a hand on the small of your back pulling you into his chest.

“You okay?” he asks softly leaning close to your ear.

You give him a small nod in response, his breath on your neck would normally ignite your core, send a dampness between your legs but today it doesn’t. Today it irritates you but Fred doesn’t stop trying to break your walls down.

“Don’t lie to me” he says pulls Lucas from you, his hand resting gently on your hip as he places a soft kiss on your temple.

“It’s nothing” you lie shifting on your feet to pull away from him ever so slightly.

“Are we seriously going to play this game (Y/N)” he groans. “Just tell me.”

“Not here” you hiss in response.

“So it is something” he says.

“Yes” you retort. As you begin to walk away you hear Fred sigh loudly but he uses his better judgement and doesn’t follow you.

He joins you for a family picture with Santa, and even asks Sid to take the twins so the two of you can get a picture just the two of you. Apart from that he gives you space while also remaining close.

You can tell he is bothered he comes up beside you a couple times and tries to talk to you, but each time his mouth falls shut and he saunters off. He has no idea what he did, and how could he? How could he know you’re actually bothered by something that happened months ago?

After buckling everyone in the car Fred climbs out of the back, you place your bags and coats on the floor before closing the door. When you turn around Fred is waiting off to the side. He opens your door for you but instead of getting in you walk into his chest.

After the immediate shock Fred’s arms wrap around you. You feel the tears prick the sides of your eyes, but you sniffle them away. He feels your body gently heave and tightens his grip around you, holding you close; his body keeping you sheltered from the crisp Pittsburgh air.

You sigh against him and pull away, wordlessly climbing into the car. Fred gently shuts the door and gets in the driver’s side, you can tell he is confused but he says nothing starting the drive home. It’s a silent drive, you staring out the passenger window, Fred turns the volume of the radio down until it’s almost inaudible, you don’t need to turn around to see that all your sons have fallen asleep.

Once home you carefully take Oliver to bed and tuck him while Fred does the same with the twins. You change into some pyjamas and begin your night routine. At some point Fred comes in the bathroom to brush his teeth. Normally he would wait in the bathroom for you, his hand resting on your bump, groaning when you reach for another product instead of being done and ready for bed. You would shoot him a playful smirk and he would resume his post patiently waiting for you finish.

But not tonight, tonight he leaves once he is done; letting you finish your routine alone. You wash your face, brush out your hair and pull it into a loose bun on the top of your head. When you are finally done you find Fred sitting on the end of the bed waiting for you.

“Hey” he says seeing you nervously playing with his hands

“Hey” you reply shooting him a soft smile. You sit beside him curling your legs up on the mattress.

“What’s going on?” he chuckles awkwardly.” I replayed today through my head a million times from every angle and I have no idea what I did” he huffs. “We had coffee in bed before the boys woke up and it was great. We had breakfast and got ready for hockey everything was great until the party. Something shifted and I don’t know what. Did I leave some dishes in the sink or some socks on the floor? Did I say something stupid, like what did I do?”

“Nothing” you whisper.

“No don’t say nothing. Something is wrong so tell me. What did I do wrong?” he shifts closer to you and rests his hand on your ankle. You see the pleading in his eyes as he gently lifts your chin.

“You didn’t do anything” you repeat, Fred shaking his head running his hand through his hair frustrated at your response. You grip his hand and bring it back down to the bed “you didn’t do anything…today.”

“What does that mean?” he scoffs.

“After the game when you were walking back to the lobby you were stopped for pictures and what not by some people” he nods slightly. “Well a woman came up to you, dark hair.”

“Yeah her son wanted a picture” he explains.

“Right well I saw that, but then the two of you talked for a couple minutes. She was standing really close and I saw her touch your arm, and I don’t know it made me jealous or something.”

“Babe I didn’t want anything to do with her, I basically ran back to you right after that. I mean she’s not my type you don’t have to worry” he replies.

“Wait I don’t have to worry because she isn’t your type” you rise to your feet walking away.

“That’s not what I meant, they are two separate statements” you hear the sound of his footsteps getting closer. “Even if she was my type you wouldn’t have to worry, you’re it for me babe” he comes up resting his hands on your hip his voice low and in your ear. “You’re the only one I have eyes for. Nobody else elske.”

“But that hasn’t always been the case” you say pushing his hands off your hips. “I mean seven months ago you kissed someone else.”

You hear him sigh behind you and you take a large gulp. You turn around to face him seeing regret fill his face. His face falls and you blink through your pain before continuing “seeing that today bothered me and I know it shouldn’t. I knew nothing happened but it really bothered me. Eight months ago it wouldn’t have, but after finding out about you…I…I don’t know” you shake the image from your head, trying to compose yourself. 

Fred walks over to you and wraps his arms around you “I get it babe” he sighs .

“I guess I thought I was fine. That I was over it, it didn’t bother me. But it does bother me” you say choking on some sobs. Fred tightens his grip on you, completely engulfing you in his arms while you begin to sob against his chest. You clench his t-shirt while warm tears roll down your cheeks.

“Let’s talk about it then. Whenever you’re ready, and as much as you need” he says hands finding the back of your neck to hold you tight against him.

“I want to” you take a deep breath and wipe the side of your eye “now.”

You walk over to the bed and sit down crossing your legs, Fred joins sitting a few feet from you waiting for you to start. You sit in silence for a few minutes trying to find the words, not knowing where to start.

“I know you love me” you grab his hands in yours. “I know you would do anything for me, our family. But it’s not easy. We only got together because I got pregnant, if I didn’t I don’t think we’d be here.”

As you talk you watch his facial expression change; he stares at you like you’re crazy. Like he has no idea where that is coming from; because he never felt that way and doesn’t want you to. And it something that has been mentioned a few times, and you know it irritates him when anyone thinks that way. But it kills his to think you believe it.

“I don’t think that’s true babe. I mean yeah that brought us together, but we took our time. We built this right and we wouldn’t be here after all this time if we only were together because of you getting pregnant. It was almost two years after we got pregnant that we finally figured out or feelings and got together. If we were only together because of Ollie we would have been together from the start and it likely wouldn’t have been so hard. We both wouldn’t have gotten hurt so much in the process.”

“Okay but I get insecure because of that, and women constantly throw themselves at you which doesn’t help. But I was able to ignore it befre, let it all become background noise until you kissed someone. Now I see someone flirt with you and I can’t help but be jealous” you say through foggy eyes.

“I know I’m not always easy to be with” he shifts to be closer to you, pulling you into his lap “but I love you so much.”

“I never doubted that” you whine against his chest looking down in your lap. You nervously pick at your nails, trying to avoid eye contact “I just. I don’t know, I don’t know what I’m saying or what I want.”

Silence fills the air and you sense his hesitation “do you still want me, to be with me?”

“What” your head snaps up finding his dark eyes glazed with tears “of course I do.”

“Still want to marry me” he whispers afraid of the answer.

“Yes Frederik of course I do.”

“Do you want me to go to a hotel, give you some time –“

“No Fred I don’t want that” you almost snap at his questions. “I just need you to know that what you did hurt, and sometimes it still bothers me. The last time you cheated on me I was pregnant, and I’m pregnant again now so it’s hard. It’s hard because I want to trust it won’t happen again and I do trust it; until something happens and I doubt everything.”

You hear him mumble a fuck against your hair finally putting together your struggles. You practically hear the wheels stop turning as he finally has connected all the dots that led to your pain. It’s not that you are worried about him cheating, you are worried the stress of the pregnancy will get to him and it will happen again.

His hand rests on your waist, hesitantly finding its way onto your bump. You hear Fred sniffle as some tears land in your hair. The past 12 weeks you have had fears of Fred cheating on you again, dreams of that day and thanks to your pregnancy they have been vivid.

In some dreams it’s almost like you are replaying that day, you get sent a picture. Another dream or more like nightmare is you walking in to your bedroom and he is in bed buried deep inside another woman. You know these are just dreams but it doesn’t help your anxiety.

He runs his hand up and down your arm while you soak his shirt with your tears. He continues to try to soothe you but his attempts fail and you begin to sob uncontrollably. He holds you tight, you don’t even know for how long.

Finally your body relaxes and the tears in your eyes have dried, bottom lip stopped trembling. Your vision is still slightly blurred but you tilt your head to look at Fred showing your puffy cheeks. His face is wrecked with emotion; eyes wet with his own tears.

“I hate when you cry, but it’s so much worse when I’m the cause of it” he says laughing through his tears. You bring your thumb up to wipe his away, he gently rests his cheek against your palm.

“I love seeing you pregnant, I always have. There is something about seeing the woman I love carry my baby; words can’t even describe the feeling” you smile slightly at his words. “And I am so sorry I took what should be an amazing beautiful time” his hand lands on your stomach and he softly strokes over it “and put seeds of doubt into it. But tell me what you need to make this better. Whether it’s a night away, or a puppy or if you need to hit me whatever it is lets do it.”

“I don’t need or want to hit you” you laugh slightly. “And a puppy would be way too much work right now.” Fred’s lips gently land on your forehead as he rocks you back and forth. You relax into his touch bringing your hand through his beard and onto his chest. “I don’t know if there is any one thing; if the situation was reversed and I kissed someone do you think there is one thing that could fix it?”

He doesn’t respond. You don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t know or doesn’t want to say it; not that you were expecting a response.

“Honestly I’m drained; me and the baby just want to curl up under the blankets and get some sleep” you sigh.

“Okay” he whispers pulling his hands away from you.

Your body is weak as you crawl out his lap; slipping under the cold sheets. Fred sits at the bottom of the bed not sure if you want him to join. You fold the blanket on his side down and tap the empty space and he quickly fills it, not needing to be told twice.

He lies on his back not bothering to pull the blankets up his body. His gaze locks on your ceiling, but you can see his pupils shifting as he replays the conversation; or maybe that night eight months ago. You slide closer to Fred and rest your hand on his chest, using his bicep as a pillow.

His hand lands on your back and he pulls you in close, almost as if he’s afraid he’ll lose you. You can feel the tension exuding off of him and can hear his uneasy breathing. After the night you had you are mentally exhausted and practically fall asleep instantly, though you know Fred will be awake for hours.

The next morning you wake up on your side facing away from Fred, some of the morning light beginning to trickle through your blinds. You don’t need to look at your clock to know you are earlier than normal; the kids likely sleeping for another 45 minutes.

You roll over and Fred is staring at the ceiling the same position you left him in last night. The bags under his eyes and red in his pupils telling you he didn’t sleep well. While you were emotionally drained and fell asleep relatively easily, you felt Fred tossing and turning beside you which woke you up multiple times.

“Hey” he whispers a faint smile finding his face when he sees you. “How’d you sleep?”

Shifting in your sheets, you embrace the exhaustion carried over from the night before. Normally you would try to fall back asleep until the twins cried over the monitor or you hear Oliver footsteps running down the hall towards your room.

“Okay” you yawn. Fred smiles lightly brushing your hair from your forehead.

“Not sleep good?” you ask, he shakes his head in response.

“How could I?” he sighs turning his gaze back to the ceiling.

“Sorry” you whisper.

“No you don’t have anything to apologize for. I fucked up and your feelings are valid”

“I kind of feel better, I think maybe I just had to get it all out. Tell you how I was feeling” you say crawling over to him. It’s not a lie, you didn’t necessarily need anything to happen or for Fred to do anything He just needed to know how you felt, be aware of the problem. Maybe if you hadn’t brushed it under the rug many months ago your feelings would be resolved.

“I’m glad” he responds his lips hesitantly press to your forehead. You melt into his touch, your hand sliding up his shirt feeling his warm skin under your nails. You tilt your head gently pressing your lips to Fred’s.

You can sense his hesitation as you crawl on him sinking into the kiss. You know he can taste your morning breath but he doesn’t care, opening his mouth to allow you entrance. His lips are slightly chapped like usual as your tongue swipes along his lower lip; he moans when you suck on his lower lip pulling it back slightly.

His hands tentatively find your hips holding you on his stomach. Your tongue slides inside his mouth, your hand finding his rough beard and gently rakes through it. Your mouths move in sync with one another, his hands slowly begin to wander around to the back of your thighs before returning to your hips. You gently grind down on him, feeling his tip separated by some thin fabric between your cheeks. After a few minutes Fred pulls away leaving the two of you gasping for air.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like this. I never want you to be insecure, especially because of me” he whispers. He gently pushes you onto your back, him resting on his side. “You’re it for me, my other half; my better half. You complete me and I never want you to worry. No other girl has a shot with me” his mouth attaches to your neck peppering you with soft kisses.

“You are the only girl I want to curl up beside after a game. The only girl who will make me watch the Notebook only to turn it off with 15 minutes left because it’s too sad to finish.” You roll your eyes at that but can’t help a grin from crossing your face.

He crawls on top of you; your hands stroking along his biceps. “You’re the only girl I want stealing my sweaters, the only girl I want to kiss” he briefly presses his lips to yours. His knee gently finds a spot between your legs spreading them open a couple inches.

You moan ever so lightly you aren’t even sure Fred heard it until he smirks against your lips. “You’re the only girl I want to make those sounds come out of.” You clear your throat and bite your bottom lip as Fred’s mouth presses to the side of your neck. Your eyelashes kiss your cheek your body squirming while wetness begins to pool in your core.

“You’re the only girl I want to touch” he gently presses a kiss to your jaw bone, a finger trailing down your arm. “The only girl I want to taste” he licks along your collarbone. He places warm open mouth kisses on your collarbone finding its way to your sweet spot.

A light giggle falls from your lips as his mustache tickles your ear. You know Fred is enjoying this but he won’t touch you further until you allow it.

“Freddie” you moan and feel him smirk against your neck.

“Yes smuk” he mumbles against your skin as goosebumps begin to form.

“I need you” you moan out softly. Before you even finish getting the words out your shirt is off, his large hands finding your breasts, easily cupping them in his palm. His movements are soft and gentle as he waits for your response.

He massages your breast in one hand; gently rolling the nipple through his finger. You gasp at the feeling, them being slightly sensitive from the pregnancy. Fred eases his touch but doesn’t pull away; his mouth dipping down to suck on your other breast.

Your back arches in response soft moans escaping your lips. You expect him to continue down your body but he continues to work on your breasts for a few more minutes. You feel your cunt dripping your hands finding his hair. Instead of tangling your fingers in his hair you try to push his large frame down further and earn a deep seeded chuckle from him.

“Someone’s eager” he mumbles against you; soft curse words fall from your lips. His hand slides down your body slipping inside your pyjama pants. His fingers graze over your folds coating them in your juices. He smirks against your breast “very eager eh” he jokes feeling your wetness.

His large hands easily push your pants down your legs, they bunch just below your knees. He continues to suck on your breast while his hand caresses up the back of your thigh. He gives your ass a squeeze, pulling your body down the bed until your pussy finds his thigh.

He flexes his muscular thigh, your pussy trembling on him. You begin to slowly roll your hips in search of more friction. Fred lets out a soft moan at the feeling of his muscles pressing against your throbbing clit.

His hands find your hip, rough fingers digging in, encouraging the motion of your hips. His lips still wrapped around one of your hardened nipples. Breathy whimpers leaving your mouth as you grind your hips against him; earning a few low groans from him. Your moans turn to whimpers needing more contact.

“Fred please” you whine voice thick with need and desperation.

He releases his mouth from your breast and slowly trails down your body. When he reaches your pelvis he sucks hard likely leaving a mark; his nails digging into your hips. He hooks your legs over his shoulders his mouth places soft kisses on the inside of your thighs.

His arms wrap around your waist, pinning you to the bed as he bites up your thigh. Your head falls into the pillow and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Even though he has barely touched you the anticipation almost has you going over the edge.

You gasp when his lips finally attach to your clit, placing some soft kisses on your folds. He pulls back, lips ghosting barely a centimeter from your skin causing your hips to buck up. Fred flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up; a dark groan leaves Fred’s throat tasting your wetness. Your back begins to arch but his grip tightens holding you to the bed.

His tongue slowly slips inside your walls and your hands tangle into his messy locks, gripping tight to the scalp as his tongue moves in and out of you. Your thighs tighten around his head, Fred groaning under you. His nose presses into your clit as whispered curse words fall from yours.

He flicks his tongue inside you, curling in your walls. His teeth gently graze your folds; you breathe out a fuck as the coil in your abdomen gets painfully tight. You aren’t sure if Fred heard you or if he can sense it, until you hear him hum in response.

You tremble knowing you are hanging on the edge, “I’m gonna cum” you manage to pant out. You feel Fred smirk below you but he doesn’t let up, continuing to fuck his tongue in and out of you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the coil inside you snaps; your orgasm washing over you. Fred works you through your high groaning as you flutter around his mouth. An incoherent noise leaves your lips the heels of your feet digging into his back. Finally you come down from your high Fred’s tongue slowing. You are breathless as your eyes flutter open looking down to meet Fred’s gaze. His mouth releases your swollen bud and he drops your legs; pulling your pyjamas back up your legs.

He slowly crawls up your body, your juices dripping from his beard. He places a trail of soft kisses up your chest. Your hands release his hair sliding down to his beard pulling his face to yours. You guide his mouth to yours moaning when you taste yourself.

His tongue slides in but before you can deepen it you hear a cry over the baby monitor. You pull apart with a groan; Fred’s head turning to the screen.

“I think he’s still asleep” Fred says after a couple minutes “got a couple more minutes” he mumbles against your neck. He falls beside you pulling you into his chest while your head turns to look at him. He softly brushes your sweaty hair from your forehead.

“I’m sorry for yesterday” he says softly “and more importantly seven months ago.”

“I know” your lips gently press against his.

“If something bothers you please tell me” he says and you smile lightly in response. “And if you need to talk about what happened more, bring it up. No matter what.”

“I will, promise” you smile

“No matter how uncomfortable it’s better for us to talk these things through now then let them stew inside.”

“I know” you nod against him. Fred smiles down at you and brings his lips back down to yours. You gently play with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. The kiss is soft and slow; his tongue swiping inside your mouth. When you pull away Fred’s forehead gently presses against yours.

Your hands gently play with his beard, a wide grin glued to your face. Fred crawls beside you his hand finds your stomach “any movements yet?”

“I’m only 13ish weeks babe” you laugh “that probably won’t happen for another five weeks or so.”

“I know I just love the little kicks” he places another soft kiss on your cheek when you hear another cry from the nursery.

“I got it babe” he whispers crawling out of bed. When the door closes you find your shirt knowing your time in bed will be ending soon. You hear the nursery door open on the monitor, and your gaze meets the screen. You feel your heart skip a beat watching Fred.

He pulls Noah from his crib, blowing a raspberry on his stomach. Noah’s little laugh is loud enough you can almost hear it down the hall.

He engages in a random conversation with him while changing his diaper and getting him ready for the day. Before he finishes Lucas stirs in his crib and Fred turns his attention to him repeating everything with him. After finishing he leaves the nursery and you hear his footsteps on the hardwood and the door slowly creaks open.

The twins faces light up when they see you and Fred crawls back into bed handing Noah to you. “Hi buddy” you smile pressing a kiss to his cheek. The four of you lie in bed, Noah babbling away on your stomach; Fred’s arms wrapped around the two of you.

You all lie in bed, you curled up beside Fred the twins crawling over you. You and Fred fall into an easy conversation the twins cooing around you. Lucas is sitting on Fred’s chest and you laugh when Noah sits on his face. It’s an easy morning; something you didn’t get when Oliver was this young. When he was around this age you and Fred were in separate apartments. It was during the span when you weren’t sleeping together; and your interactions were sometimes awkward.

You grab Lucas from Fred’s chest and Fred grips Noah’s waist lifting him off his face. He puts him on the mattress and begins to tickle your son, his little laugh erupting. His laughter echoes off the wall getting louder; it’s so loud you almost don’t hear the door creak open. You look over and see Oliver yawning in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. He slowly climbs up in bed beside you.

A large grin spread across you face watching as Fred wrestles Oliver into the bed and tickles the boys. Their laughter fills your bedroom and your heart watching your four boys. You rub your hand over your stomach smiling, knowing soon there will be another baby making your king sized bed seem even more crowded; just the way you like it.

Next Chapter

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch2: Hey Sailor

Chapter Summary: Mary is excited for her first riding lesson, and it seems that she’s not the only one…

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Again, as you will all know I’m a Brit so apologies if too much British horsey lingo slips into this…ASK away if you don’t understand. Tagging all my SSB/CSI readers…if you want in or off the list PLEASE just tell me. This chapter is a bit of a filler, things start getting a bit more interesting in the next one, and then we’ll be diving into the Gifted story line in Chapter 4.

Thanks to my beta reader/sounding board @icanfeelastormbrewing​ for her input and her modes of transport kink...

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 1

“Mary…” Frank sighed. “Take the boots off and get in bed.” “You told me that Miss Gallagher said I needed to wear them.” she looked at him.

“Yeah, but you can’t wear them in bed…”

Mary flopped onto the side of her bed and reached down to unzip the boots before she kicked them off and Frank picked them up and placed them out of the way. Mary shuffled down under her covers and lay her head back on the pillow and, once she was settled, Frank gently smoothed her blonde hair back off her face and smiled at her. Times like this she really did remind him of Diane.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?” “Can I read for a little while?” she asked.

Frank rolled his eyes “Mary…”

“Please!”

“Fine, fifteen minutes tops. And I’ll be in to turn the light off, ok?” With a grin she sat up and reached for her latest book- Moby Dick, and he dropped a kiss to her head and left her to it. He made his way into the kitchen, cleared the dishes and then grabbed a beer his attention turning to the table which was had clear, the other half scattered with the parts from one of the engines he had been working on. He knew he really shouldn’t bring this home with him but sometimes it was just easier.

His phone buzzed and he reached for it, glancing down at the unknown number.

“Hi Mr Adler, just a courtesy message to remind you of Mary’s lesson tomorrow at One. If you can’t make it please let me know ASAP so I can offer the slot to someone else. Otherwise see you then. Regards, Fliss.” Frank smiled, like he would have chance to forget. Mary had talked of nothing else since Saturday. His fingers hovered over the reply button, before he dropped the phone back down. He didn’t need to reply…did he? I mean…

Oh fuck it. What was a bit of harmless flirting? He picked the phone back up and tapped in a quick response.

“Like I’d have chance to forget. She’s been like a broken record since Wednesday. I had to pry her

boots off tonight as she was threatening to wear them in bed.” Setting the phone down he headed back through to check on Mary, her 15 minutes was over. He found her fast asleep, book clutched to her chest. Gently taking it from her, he slipped the bookmark into the page and turned off the lights, making sure she was tucked in. When he moved back into the main part of the trailer he had a reply.

“Brilliant! That’s what I like to hear. Get used to it, you’re going to hear about nothing but horses now for the rest of your life.” “Great, I can’t wait…” he set his Nokia down, not really having a smarter response to that, so he gathered a few pieces of the engine, setting to work. About five minutes passed and his phone went again.

“You know I offer starter lessons for adults too, maybe you should try it, see if you understand what the fuss is all about.” “No thanks, my feet stay firmly on the ground. Unless I’m on a boat.” “A boat? I didn’t have you pegged as a sailor?” At that Frank let out a bark of a laugh.

“I’m not, not really. I fix them. And besides, you don’t sail speedboats.” “What do you do then?”

“You drive them.”

“Do you drive them on water?” “Dur.” “That’s called Sailing.”

His work abandoned, he took a pull from his beer bottle and shook his head, smile tugging at his lips as he replied.

“But they don’t have sails…” “It’s a boat. It goes on water. It’s called Sailing.” “Alright, I bow to your superior knowledge…” “Glad we agree…even if I do detect a serious underlying tone of sarcasm in your message. See you tomorrow Sailor.” He laughed again, shaking his head. He tapped in a goodnight and placed the phone down, turning his attention to his work.

***** “What are you grinning about?” Bill Gallagher looked at his daughter as they walked across the field, Thor and his own dog, Rupert, hurtling ahead in front of them, their flashing collars keeping them located in the twilight.

“Oh, nothing, just winding someone up.” she smiled “One of the dad’s from tomorrow’s lesson, trying to convince me you drive, not sail, a speedboat.” “Hmmm…well they don’t have sails.” Bill mused.

“Whatever, they go on water, they sail.” Fliss shrugged, slipping her phone back into her pocket as Frank’s ‘Goodnight’ rounded off their conversation.

“So, who is he then?” Bill asked.

“Oh, his name’s Frank.” Fliss replied, nonchalantly, but her dad didn’t miss the flicker of a smile that hit her mouth.

“Is he the one that your mum said was eyeing you up in the bar?” “He was not eyeing me up.” Fliss groaned “He was just being friendly.” “Sure he was.” “Dad.” she warned him, nudging him with her elbow.

“What?” “You know what!” she laughed “Stop it.” “Alright.” he smiled, holding his hands up “I yield, it’s just nice to see you happy, that’s all.” “Well, I am.” she said after a moment, and she meant it “The last six months the riding school has taken off, I’m feeling more, well, myself than I have in years. Just need to find an apartment now.” “Well, on that.” Bill looked at her. “Me and your mum have been thinking. We thought, maybe, you might want to move into the annex. We can do it up, gives you your own space…”

Fliss paused walking and turned to her dad. “That’s where Steeby stays though, when he comes out with Sian and the kids.” “There’s plenty of room in the house.” Bill shrugged “And they come like what, four times a year? It’s stood empty the rest of the time.” Fliss bit her lip.

“It’s just an idea and your brother won’t mind. Look, I know it’s probably not what you had in mind, living in your parent’s annex but for the time being until the Yard starts to turn over more of a profit we just thought it might give you a little bit more freedom.” “Whilst still staying close.”

“I want to keep you safe Titch.” Bill shrugged “I didn’t do that before but,” “Dad don’t.” Fliss shook her head “None of that, it wasn’t your fault. I hid from everyone what was happening…you didn’t know.”

“I should have.” he sighed “You’re my daughter.” “He had everyone fooled, including me. This is no one’s fault but his, I get that now.” Bill smiled and pulled her into a hug. “I know.”

“We should head back.” Fliss smiled, pulling away. “Mum will be wondering where we are.”

“You have anything to finish off?” he asked

“Nope, everything is out for the night and looks reasonably settled.” she squinted at the various horses dotted across her land.

“Hmmm, unlike this fencing.” Bill frowned, examining the broken bit of post and rail that Fliss had patched up with electric tape “This could do with replacing, love.” “Yeah, I know.” she shrugged “I was going to mention it but forgot. The temporary fix has worked for the time being.” “I’ll stop by and do it tomorrow.” he nodded, “Won’t take me long. I’ll level that top field as well whilst I’m at it if you want.” “Thanks Dad” she smiled. In comfortable silence they made their way back towards the main part of the yard. *******

Fliss grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge in her office and took a long drink. The heat was pretty intense today, and she was just wondering if really holding Mary’s lesson as advisable when she realised it wasn’t like they’d be doing anything too strenuous. She adjusted her baseball cap and walked back onto the yard, shouting instructions to the three members of staff to go and take a water break. Just as they were passing her towards the office, she saw Frank and Mary walking onto the yard. Mary was sporting a new riding hat and Fliss couldn’t help but smile.

“Well check you out!” she said, tapping the little girl on the head “Nice hat.” “I liked the silver on it!” Mary grinned, pointing to the sparkly strip that ran along the front.

“Me too.” Fliss nodded. “I have the same hat but mine has blue sparkles.” she straightened up and looked at Frank. “Hey Sailor.” He gave a snort of a laugh “I told you, you don’t sail speedboats.” “They go on water.” Mary said, “Its’ sailing.” “Ha, see!” Fliss laughed

Frank sighed “Whatever.” The corners of his mouth turned up and he handed Fliss the forms he had brought back.

“Oh great…” she thanked him “I’ll just file these and then Ruby will get Monty ready. I thought you might like to help her.” Mary nodded eagerly. Fliss excused herself and Frank heard her shouting something and a moment later a tall, wirey Hispanic girl emerged from the office with a saddle. Fliss followed, bridle slung over her shoulder and gestured for Mary to follow. Frank watched as the girl skipped off following and headed after her at a slower pace, rubbing at his neck which felt like it was burning. He’d slathered Mary in sunscreen before but of course had forgotten his own.

He stepped into the relative cool of the barn and watched as the stable hand was explaining to Mary what each piece of tack was as she began to place it onto the pony. He knew Mary would be taking all of this in, just like she did with everything, and Roberta would be hearing all about it later on.

Fliss handed over the bridle and stepped back, heading towards Frank. “I normally do have the ponies ready” she said, almost apologetically “But I thought she’d enjoy this bit.” “You thought right.” Frank laughed “I was just thinking to myself she’ll be chewing our neighbour’s ear off later.”

Fliss smiled and they both stood in silence watching until the other girl said they were ready.

“Alright, let’s go!” Fliss grinned and they walked out into the yard. She took the pony from her staff member with a thanks, and walked with Mary following into the riding paddock. Frank leaned on the fencing outside as Fliss led Mary and Monty over to the wooden mounting block at the side.

“Ok, so…” she turned to Mary and patted the top step “Climb up here…” Mary hopped up.

“Left foot in this stirrup,” she instructed. Mary placed her foot in. “Left hand here,” she guided it to the front of the saddle, “and then I want you to swing your right leg over.” Mary did as she was told, sitting down on the saddle.

“Good stuff kiddo!” Fliss smiled as she checked the stirrups “Ok, so we need to put these up a hole so…”

She busied herself shortening the stirrup leathers, and eventually when she was happy she nodded.

“So, what we’re gonna do for today is a bit of walking around, and stopping, and then if you’re happy with your balance we can try a bit of trot ok?” Mary grinned.

“Right…so take your reins…” Fliss showed her how to hold the reins correctly, and then she slipped the lunge line through the ponies bit and looked at the girl. “If you feel wobbly or anything you grab this…” she said, gesturing to the leather strap around the pony’s neck. “And shout to me ok?”

Mary nodded.

Fliss began to walk besides the pony who followed her like a dog. Mary all the time concentrating on what she was doing. Fliss explained to her how her legs made the animal go, and how to make it stop, and they practiced that for five minutes before Fliss moved slightly further away to let Mary take a bit of control, instructing her to go, then stop, go, then stop…

Frank watched intently. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly nervous about Mary falling off but he knew that he had to let her discover all this for herself. He leaned further over on the fence, watching and couldn’t help but smile at the look on Mary’s face, she was concentrating so hard her brow was furrowed, tongue poking out from the side of her mouth.

“Your kid?” a deep voice with a similar accent to Fliss said and he turned to his right to see a tall, stocky guy in his sixties, maybe, dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans looking at him.

“Neice.” he nodded, “First lesson.” “Ahh...” the man chuckled “Yeah I remember Fliss’ first lesson. I crapped myself.” Frank let out a laugh “Yeah, I’m a little nervous.” “Bill Gallagher” The man stuck his hand out “Fliss’ dad.” “Nice to meet you, I’m Frank.” Bill looked at him, nodding before his attention turned to the paddock “Hey, Titch, sorry to interrupt…” Fliss stopped the pony and turned to her dad “Hey.” “Fencing is done but I can’t get that bloody tractor started, so the field’s gonna have to wait.” “I can look at it.” Frank offered immediately “I mean, if you want.” Bill turned to him, “You a mechanic?” “No he’s a sailor.” Fliss shot back and Frank rolled his eyes.

“I fix boats. Engines, that type of thing.” “Huh.” Bill nodded appraisingly. “Well if you wouldn’t mind…” “Not a problem. Mary you okay here if I go for a minute?” Mary looked at him “Dur.” Bill let out a chuckle as Frank turned to him “Tell me raising them gets easier.” “Oh no mate.” Bill shook his head, grinning “You just get different shit to deal with.” Frank followed the man round to the back of the barn and spotted a dark green baby tractor. Bill explained what it was doing and Frank crouched closer to have a look before he headed to his truck for the jump leads.

After ten minutes or so he’d found the problem. They could start it, but it wasn’t holding any charge. Meaning when the turned the engine off it needed jump starting again.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the alternator.” he chewed his lip, stepping back “I’ll need to strip it down to see whether I can repair it or if it needs a new one but we can get it started again you can do what you need to do for today.”

Bill nodded “So not quite ready for the scrap heap?” “Not quite.” Frank smiled, wiping his hands on his jeans “Just needs a bit of a fiddle with.” “Don’t we all?” Bill quipped, making Frank laugh. They jump started it again and Bill thanked him before hopping on and heading over to the gate that led to the field.

By the time Frank returned, he was surprised to see that Mary was now riding the pony almost unaided in a circle around Fliss who was holding the end of the line attached to the Monty’s bridle as it trotted around. Mary was gripping the strap round the pony’s neck and trying to rise in time to the trot. It was clumsy and she was a little bit out of balance but that didn’t matter. He could hear Fliss shouting gentle encouragement to her, counting out the rhythm and eventually Mary fell in time with her counts.

“Good!” Fliss beamed “see, I told you you’d get it…” This continued for another 5 minutes or so before Fliss told Mary to slow Monty down to a walk and give him a good pat. They walked the pony around for a while, to give him chance to cool down a little before Fliss walked towards Mary gathering up the line as she went.

“That was awesome for a first go!” she said, smiling “Did you enjoy it?”

Mary nodded “Yeah, it was really cool!”

“Good!” Fliss said. “Now I’m gonna unclip the line and walk around for a bit. He’ll follow me but when I stop I want you to stop him yeah?”

Mary nodded eagerly and she unclipped the line and began to walk. Fliss knew Monty would stop when she did but she wanted to let Mary have a go anyway. They did a lap of the paddock and on the second she stopped by Frank.

“Look, Frank!” Mary smiled “I’m not on the line.” “Yeah, I see!” he smiled at her “Good job!”

“How’s my tractor?” Fliss asked.

“Think it’s the alternator. We got it started for your dad but I’ll need to strip it down properly…I can come back tomorrow and sort it properly if you want?” “Oh, I don’t wanna put you out.” Fliss started to protest but Frank shook his head

“It’s no bother, honestly.” he ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t promise I can fix it but I’ll be able to see if I can or if you need a new one.” Fliss looked at him and then nodded “Alright, but in that case today is free.” “No, that’s not why I offered.” Frank began to protest but Fliss shook her head

“I know.” she smiled that damned gorgeous smile again, and Frank felt his stomach flip. “But I’d like to.” Frank looked at her for a moment, her brown eyes locked onto his and he swallowed, nodding. “Ok, thanks.” “Wait am I coming back tomorrow?” Mary asked

“I’m booked up, sorry sweetie.” Fliss looked at her “But you’re welcome to come anyway, that is if Frank says its okay. You can always give Monty a groom.” “We’ll see. “Frank looked at Mary.

“I can put her to work.” Fliss said, grinning “Nothing like a bit of child labour.” “That’s illegal.” Mary said.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Fliss looked at her and Frank gave a chuckle.

They made their way out of the paddock and Fliss showed Mary how to swing her leg back round the saddle and slide down. She landed on her feet and took the reins from Fliss’ hand, leading the pony back to his stable. She helped untack and then Fliss handed her the bridle to carry. They walked into the office and Fliss tapped a code into the door to the left and led them into a tidy tack room, rows of saddles and racks adorned the wall along with bridle pegs and a few shelves full of rugs and blankets for the horses. Fliss slipped the saddle onto a spare rack and then directed Mary to Monty’s bridle peg. Frank took the bridle from her as the peg was a little high and hooked it over.

“Now, you need a drink.” Fliss looked at Mary “I got water or some apple juice.”

 “Apple please.”  Mary said. Fliss nodded and headed back into the office, giving her a juice box from the fridge “Frank?”

“Oh, errr, water would be great thanks.” She handed him a bottle and he screwed off the tap.

“So, do you want to book in again now or do it tomorrow?” Fliss looked at him. “I think she’ll cope on the group lesson fine.” “So when do they run?”  Frank asked, swallowing his water.

“Saturday afternoons at two.” Fliss said. “Or Wednesday at six.” “Can we come Saturday?” Mary asked.

Frank hesitated “I did say you couldn’t do this every week.” “Yeah but you didn’t pay for today.” Mary shot back.

Jesus Christ

He glanced up at Fliss who was biting her lip, trying not to laugh.

“Fine, you can come this Saturday but then that’s it, we go to every other week like we agreed, okay?” Mary nodded.

“Settled, I’ll book you in.” Fliss grinned. “If you get here about quarter to I’ll introduce you to the other girls before you join.” Mary frowned a little, before she recovered and nodded. “Okay.” “So do you like work here every day?” Frank asked and Fliss nodded

“Mostly. If I want a day off then I get Joanne to cover the lessons and the girls can open and close up.” she said “But it’s few and far between. Like I said, still in the early days so…”

Frank nodded “Yeah I know what it’s like, trying to get yourself established.” “I take it you’re a self-employed sailor then?” Fliss smiled and he gave a grin back and nodded.

“He takes me for rides.” Mary said “In the boats sometimes.” “That’s really cool. I’ve never been on speedboat.” Fliss mused.

“You should come with us one day, right Frank?”

Frank hesitated a little, surprised to find that he wasn’t filled with dread at the idea of her joining them.

“I’m sure Fliss has enough to be doing without you demanding more of her time.” he shot the girl a look, his tone even.

“Yeah, I’m very busy.” Fliss smiled, offering him a way out. He shot her a thankful look.

“We can do it when you’re free…” “Mary!” Frank’s tone was exasperated as Fliss laughed.

“Maybe one day.” she said, nodding.

This placated the girl somewhat and she bounced off towards the truck.

“Sorry.” Frank turned to Fliss “She can be a little bit…” “Tenacious?” “I was gonna say a pain in the ass.” Frank shrugged, causing Fliss to laugh, her soft chuckles made him feel a little warm, or maybe it was the afternoon heat…

“She’s a good kid.” Fliss said gently.

Frank smiled and then jerked his head in the direction of the car park “I better…” “Sure.”

“I’ll drop you a message about tomorrow?” Fliss nodded “Yeah, but don’t put yourself out.” “Well I owe you now for the lesson so…” he shrugged “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Yeah, guess you will.” Fliss smiled. There was a pause again and Frank nodded, before he turned and headed after Mary. He turned to look over his shoulder at Fliss who was now walking back towards her office before he wandered onto the car park to find Mary was now chewing Bill’s ear off.

“For the love of God.” he mumbled as he drew nearer to find her mid discussion with the man about the Olympics.

“Did you go?” she was asking.

“You bet!” Bill smiled “I’ll tell you something else as well…” “What?” “Those fences are even bigger in real life than they look on the photos.” “It said on the internet she jumped One meter forty!”

“The internet?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, we googled her.” Frank groaned “Mary.” “What?” she looked at him. “I was just saying…” “Well don’t.” He said, “Truck, now…”

“It was nice to meet you Mary.” Bill smiled as the little girl bid him goodbye.

“Sorry.” Frank apologised to him.

“Don’t be silly.” Bill waved his apology off. “She wasn’t doing any harm.”

“I meant about the google thing.” Frank sighed. “We weren’t prying, she was just curious after seeing the medal and…” Bill shook his head “Kids are nosey.” he shrugged.

With another nod he climbed in the truck and turned to Mary with a sigh “What did I say to you about not telling Miss Gallagher we googled her?” “I didn’t.” Mary said “I told her dad.”

There was a pause as Frank contemplated what she had said, and realised technically she was right. He should have closed that particular loop hole. “Smart ass.” He grumbled back, before he clipped in her belt and they left.

***** Fliss was surprised to see Mary wasn’t with Frank the next day. Frank explained he had come straight from the boat yard so she was busy doing some lesson work with their neighbour. “Gives me chance to work without her continually running around causing a nuisance.” he had explained, setting his tools down by the tractor.

Fliss chuckled, “Ok, well, I got another client due in a second so just give me a shout if you need anything.” He nodded. It didn’t take him long to realise he had been right. It was the alternator. He took the engine apart and was leaning over it on the flat bed of his truck when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to look at Fliss.

“It is the alternator, but it looks like it’s the brushes inside.” he said, “I can fix this.” She nodded, the movement almost imperceptible, and he frowned at the look on her face. She’d glazed over in front of him, eyes were widened, almost like she was stuck in a memory.

And she was. Something about the fact he’d been leaning over the back of a truck, his grubby t-shirt riding up slightly, dirt on his hands and arms had stirred a really inappropriate thought in her head…which in turn had triggered another flashback.

“He was fixing the car.” Fliss looked at John “I offered him a drink, that’s all…” “He was in our kitchen.” John advanced “I saw you looking at him. Admiring him…” “I wasn’t…”

“Don’t LIE TO ME!” John’s voice as loud and then there was a stinging slap to the side of her face, which sent her reeling. As she recovered, the ringing in her ear still loud from the blow, she gently reached up to her cheek, tears stinging her eyes. John’s face was immediately apologetic, and he reached out for her, causing her to shrink back against the counter.

“You hit me.” she gasped.

“Sugar, I’m so sorry.” John stuttered, his eyes filing with tears “I didn’t, you just made me so jealous…I…” He held his arms out and pulled her to him, his hands on her back as he dropped a kiss to her head “I will never do that again, I’m sorry…” “Fliss?”

She started slightly and looked at Frank. “Yeah, sorry, I was…” “Miles away?” he frowned.

“Something like that.” she nodded, shaking her head “Sorry, you said you could fix it?”

“Yeah.” he said “I can take it with me and then I can bring it back Saturday unless you need it before that?”

“No, Saturday’s fine.” she said gently.

“Look, I don’t mean to pry but are you sure you’re ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m good.” she spoke quickly. “Look, I gotta get on and…” “Sure.” he nodded, “I should be going anyway…” She smiled at him, and turned and headed back to the yard.

****

“You clearly triggered something.” Roberta said to Frank wisely as they both sat in his living room later that evening. He’d just finished telling her about the afternoon. “Some kind of memory.”

Frank hmmed his response. “Question is why are you so bothered?” Roberta asked.

“I’m not, I just, well it wasn’t nice to see. She looked so scared.” “Well you said her husband was sent down for assaulting her.” Roberta shrugged “She’s clearly had a lot of trauma. Maybe she just needs a friend.” “Yeah, maybe.”

“Could be good for both of you.” “I know what you’re doing.” Frank looked at her sternly

“I’m not trying to do anything!” Roberta chuckled

“Course you’re not.” he rolled his eyes before he changed the subject.

It wasn’t until he was alone later, that he pulled his phone out to text Fliss. He’d typed out his message, just a perfectly innocent one to check she was okay before he deleted it, shaking his head.

Whatever it was, it really was none of his business. He had enough of his own past demons to live with as it was.

But the more he lay there the more it wound him up. And he couldn’t get the thought of her out of his head.

“Fucks sake,” he grumbled, before he retyped the message and sent it.

**** Fliss was curled up on the sofa watching TV. Her parents were out for the evening so she was making the most of enjoying the space. Her phone went and she leaned over to grab it from the coffee table, unable to stop smiling as she saw who it was from.

“Hey, just wanted to check you were ok after before. I hope I didn’t do anything or say anything that upset or scared you.” The last line made her heart sink. He clearly knew about her past. Her dad had mentioned something about them googling her, and the case had been fairly big news amongst the equestrian circuit so she knew that the story was out there to read. Well, most of it was anyway. She rubbed at her eyes, thinking of how to respond. She hated that even after almost a year of him being out of her life John was till effectively a shadow she couldn’t seem to emerge from.

“It’s not your fault. I get flashbacks sometimes, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well the past has a way of doing that. Trust me, I know.”

Fliss smiled gently as she tapped out her response. “Yeah, what is it Rafiki says on the Lion King? You can either run from your past or learn from it?”

Little over thirty seconds later he responded.

“Sound advice from a cartoon monkey…not always that easy in real life. If you ever want a non-judgmental ear to talk to, I’m a pretty good listener if you fancy a beer and a chat. Just as friends.” There was just something about this man, something that Fliss couldn’t help but warm to. She wasn’t stupid, the girls at the yard had told her a bit about him, his reputation amongst the ladies…he was a bit of a player from all accounts, but there was something there, something buried deeper, she could just tell. And what’s more, for the first time in years, she felt like she could trust another person other than her family.

It was for that reason she found it so easy to almost, sort of, maybe, possibly accept his invitation.

“I might just hold you to that Sailor.”

**** Chapter 3

[skylights2000]

Operation: Loved (Kazuichi x Reader)

This is essentially gonna be a Kazuichi appreciation thread because he is a truly underrated character in my book. I’ll add updates to this every now and then. You can read it as seperate stories or as a whole. Anyway, here we go! Enjoy!

You loved messing with Kazuichi.

Not in a mean way, of course. More of a you-look-absolutely-fucking-adorable-when-you-blush kind of way.

Normally, you tried not to embarrass him too much, but lately Kazuichi had been really down on himself. He’d just gotten back from doing a job with his dad last week, and things seemed to just go downhill from there. He’d had several bruises and a busted lip.

On top of that, he had told you that you’d be better off without him. You tried to argue, but he left, and since then, he’s been avoiding you like the plague.

You were normally very patient, but the anger towards Kazuichi father, the sadness that Kazuichi was hurting, and the pain of having him avoid you had all built up until you’d finally had enough.

Now, you had one mission and one mission only:

Show Kazuichi how loved he was.

~

You’d always had this feeling that Kazuichi had been starved of affection, but you never knew the full extent of it until you started dating. Kazuichi seemed to deem himself unworthy of any form of love.

At first, it didn’t bother you too much. You would kindly correct him and remind him that everyone deserved to be loved, but when you two got together, his insecurities seemed to grow.

He would go out of his way not to touch you, always claiming he just didn’t see the point of it, but you knew better. He became more irritable, sometimes starting fights over how much better you would be without him.

You’d tried to help, tried to soothe him with kind words, always afraid of pushing too hard, but this was going nowhere. It was time for you to man up. You needed to face this head on, and if that meant drowning Kazuichi in your love, so be it.

~

This new line of action started on a Tuesday, the week after midterms.

You stepped into the garage on campus, taking a minute to examine the various projects in each room as you made your way to the one belonging to Kazuichi and Miu. You’d run out of screws, so you came to see if they’d let you borrow some.

When you stepped inside, Miu was nowhere to be seen, but after a bit of searching around, you saw a head of pink hair, half hidden under a black beanie, and you smiled as you walked over to Kazuichi.

You were just about to tap him on the shoulder when he yelped, jumping backwards when he shocked himself. You flinched, instinctively trying to catch him, but your plan quickly backfired when you stumbled backwards at the sudden weight, taking him with you as you fell.

Your back hit the ground with a thump, knocking the air from your lungs, and you were incredibly thankful that Kazuichi wasn’t very heavy, or he probably would’ve crushed you.

He was sprawled across you, his back pressed against your chest. Once he realized what had happened, he immediately rolled off of you, apologizing profusely.

You sat up, rubbing your shoulder to soothe the pain there. You supposed you should’ve expected it to hurt. The floor was concrete, after all.

When he saw that it was you, his cheeks took on a pink hue, and he ducked his head as he apologized once again. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were there, and I didn’t mean t-“

You touched his shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’s okay, Kazuichi.” You told him with a reassuring smile.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Some Ultimate Mechanic, right?” He laughed self deprecatingly. “Can’t even fix a fuckin’ wire.”

You looked personally offended by the remark, as if he’d insulted you instead. “Don’t say that! You’re doing a great job, Kazu.”

If you thought he was blushing before, it was nothing compared to now. His face had turned the same color as his hair, and it was then that you remembered how embarrassed he got when you called him that.

You smiled slyly, your eyes gleaming mischievously. You got to your feet and held out your hands to him, pulling him up with relative ease.

Kazuichi was thin and fairly light, but you were also stronger from lifting stacks of wood, large wooden parts, and furniture. You had gained a lot of muscle since you became a woodworker, and it was that blood, sweat, and tears that earned you the title of the Ultimate Woodworker. It was that title that got you a part time job teaching classes on woodcarving and carpentry. You enjoyed it a lot, and being able to share your passion with others never failed to make your heart feel light.

“What were you tryin’ to do anyway?” You asked, glancing over his shoulder curiously.

He hesitantly shifted so you could see his workbench. “Nothin’ special, just tryin’ to fix Miu’s alarm clock.”

You stared at the broken and dismantled object in front of you in pure disbelief. “That’s an alarm clock?”

“Well, It was..before Miu threw it at a wall.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I knew she wasn’t a morning person, but I didn’t think she was THAT bad.”

“Don’t go talkin’ about me behind my back!” Miu yelled as she barged into the room. She stopped beside them, folding her arms over her chest in an attempt to look angry.

You poked her in the side, earning a squeal from the younger girl. “Quit acting like you’re mad. Anger doesn’t suit you well.” You teased playfully, watching Miu turn red.

Sometimes you swore Miu had a thing for being made fun of because the girl instantly swooned.

“Sometimes I really think you might be a masochist.”

“Ah, Ibuki says the same thing!” Miu giggled dreamily. She always got like this when she talked about Ibuki.

Miu quickly shook her head and turned to Kazuichi. “So, can ya fix it?” She asked, motioning to the would be alarm clock.

“Yeah, it’ll take some time, but I can probably get it done by they end of the day.”

Miu grinned, whacking him on the back so hard that he almost stumbled. “Awesome! Thanks Pinky!”

Kazuichi sighed at the nickname but turned back to the clock, nonetheless. He began to tinker with the different pieces and wires while you watched curiously. You’d always found it strangely calming to watch Kazuichi work. Watching the way his fingers moved nimbly made you want to take his hand.

So you did.

You caught him so off guard that he nearly dropped the screwdriver he’d been reaching for. “Wh-What’re y-you-?”

You’d been about to let go when you noticed something.

You turned his hand, running your thumb over a small burn mark on the back of his hand. “Did you drop one of your cigarettes or something?”

When he didn’t respond, you looked up at him. He was looking away, a bitter frown on his face. He didn’t have to answer for you to realize that his dad had done it.

On instinct, you brought his hand up to your face, lowering your head enough to brush your lips over the scar.

You felt more than saw him stiffen, and you stayed there for a second longer before straightening up and letting go.

For some reason, as you looked at him, your mind drifted to Sonia. You still found it surprising that Kazuichi had ended up with you, considering you were practically Sonia’s exact opposite.

Sonia was polite, formal, and very elegant. She was the Ultimate Princess for a reason. She was gentle in personality with a graceful, refined appearance. She lived lavishly, though she never once bragged about it. The only thing about Sonia that didn’t scream ‘Princess’ was her avid love of the occult.

You looked up to Sonia quite a lot and had been very happy when you were able to become friends. However, now that you had grown to be such close friends, it only made the differences between you stand out even more to you.

You were gentle in nature, but that was where it stopped. When it came to your actions and way of living, the only word that came to your mind was clumsy.

You were clumsy in every aspect of the word. Sonia was graceful and focused, while you were scatterbrained and often daydreaming. You often tripped, overworked, or just accidentally hurt yourself. You sometimes caused problems that could’ve been avoided if you’d just paid a little more attention.

Sonia was soft spoken and gentle, while you were sometimes too loud, amazed by simple things, and sometimes a bit too enthusiastic.

You had a calm side, of course, but with the calm came one of two things: Peacefulness and warmth or somber thoughts and dark memories.

Sonia was beautiful: small, soft, and petite.

You actually two inches taller than Kazuichi. You were lanky with broad shoulders and a lean frame. You had scars that dotted your skin, though most were hidden beneath her clothes.

Some were from accidents while you were working. Most were from the abuse you had suffered in the foster care system.

You worked hard, often showing up for your dates with messy hair that was sprinkled with sawdust. Kazuichi always laughed as you dusted it out, and you would smile and laugh along with him, but sometimes, you really did wonder why he liked you.

You didn’t get why he liked your sweat-streaked face and calloused hands. Everything about you was the opposite of what he’d once told you that he liked in a girl. It often left you wondering what on earth he saw in you.

Despite your less than stellar thoughts, you smiled happily, your fingers lightly brushing his arm as you slid past him. “See ya later.”

You waved and headed for the door, only realizing once you were outside that you had completely forgotten to ask for some screws.

[helahades]

The Goddess and the Grocer

(Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Sappy and hopelessly romantic, the part time art student, part time grocery bagger, and full time fantasy creator Steve Rogers lives in his head, with you as his muse. Making puzzles out of your groceries, and portraits of your every curve and edge, he fears and craves every interaction, while living with you as a lover in his mind.

A/N: Well. I have struggled with motivation for the longest. Something hit me though, and by something I mean other supportive writers and great friends. Hugest shoutout to @threeminutesoflife for being a darling and @imanuglywombat for making TWO beautiful mood boards I stare at more than Steve stares at the Peggy compass.

Warnings: creepy, obsessive Steve. ideation of creepy thoughts. food focused talk. mention of overeating. dub-con concepts. two mentions of alcohol consumption.

New blog, new me! I’ll take this moment to say I’m taking requests, and I love feedback even more than Steve loves you! hope you enjoy

Word Count: about 3k

-

Now rain slicked, the sheen of oil and water twists the reflections of the tonights red, red, green—-“can I make the turn, no too late” on yellow—now red traffic lights into a twisted rainbow on the city streets.

Down those streets, and across a barren parking lot, parents, lovers, businesspeople and more squeak and clack and slap their rainy shoes on the old speckled tile at the entrance (that Steve had just mopped) as they do every week.

At the Potts Grocery Store, nothing ever changes. And never in the night.

It isn’t just night though, it’s dead night. The odd time after things have slowed for sleep, after the rush in between when people bumble in (promising themselves promises they won’t keep about doing the shopping sooner next month), after the ten minute period within which Dr. Banner wordlessly picks up the same array of bland teas.

The night has crawled beyond all the events that happen as they do, and entered the dead night.

Maybe Steve is too poetic—like his dad says he is—too tied up in fate, and hope in life’s mystique, but he holds hope for what happens where the night is dead.

When the night dies, and most are asleep, with it, facades die too. The only people to come in the dead of night, are drunks, doctors, various night shifters, and… you.

He hasn’t yet questioned your reason for showing up so late. Hasn’t really, technically, spoken to you at all, really.

Some part of Steve thinks, maybe if he startles you, says something that clangs too loud or awkward, all your pieces will blow away, like some agitated dandelion, and he will never know you again, if he ever even knew you at all.

No, Steve’s job isn’t to startle you, or to take up your space. It’s to try and meet your eyes as you hand him the reusable bags. It’s to try and figure out what meal you’re planning from what he’s bagging, and what he already knows lies unused in your kitchen. It’s to put the bags in your cart if you’ll let him.

He hasn’t seen you yet. It’s getting late, where are you?

Somewhere between cold fluorescent and neutral warm desk lamps, the lights of the grocery store seem to exist both to chase shadows on tired shoppers' faces, and to mock him, like a candle finally blown out by a stood up date.

Had he done something wrong the last time? If he had, that couldn’t be helped. You were wearing those shorts and looked like you had just gotten ready for bed and you had your hair pulled back, but just a little fell into your face anyway.

And your scent. It always wraps around him like the saccharine spice of pastries when he swings open the bakery door for his morning shift.

The moment you breezed by him after checkout was almost too much to bear. He caught the fresh damp scent of your tied up and deep conditioned hair. You smelled like fresh linens and a life he can only imagine having when he’s chasing orgasms alone and twisting up his sheets.

He could have devoured you.

But he didn’t.

Not even when your shoulder accidentally grazed him while you were rushing out in a frenzy.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” came your frantic whisper.

He dreams of making you that delicate again. He thinks he could shape your unsure apologies in his hands like clay, or spread you thin on a canvas when you whisper so soft. But he didn’t do those things at all.

Steve being Steve, he tried to make his large frame slouch, your aura wrapping him up into a double life Clark Kent shyness, despite your gentleness.

He didn’t say a word.

A wordless, mirthless stretch of his lips. An “It’s okay, walk all over me” grin. You regarded him with a flicker of an odd glance, and then you were out the door.

As he finishes up with the last shopper in his lane, his worn Converse squeak as he leans his frame against the bagging station at checkout.

-

Last class, last week, his art teacher dropped a big assignment. Stuffy and sadistic, the man seemed to only eat the pain of lovers kept from expression, so of course, he relished in the moment he told the class to try a new medium, with a subject they hadn’t previously captured.

He seemed to look directly at Steve as he delivered the blow.

Steve's problem certainly isn’t creativity. It isn’t talent or lack of effort. He surely is adaptable, he rarely tells on his love!

For the still life project, he captured the tree that blocks your kitchen window. Heavy strokes in his sketchbook.

He even painted the park in blooms on a paper towel—yes a paper towel—when you justified to a cashier one day that all the crackers and deli meats were for a picnic.

So he has a muse. But he’s not a fool. Sometimes he spends so much time trying not to look like a fool, and paints so much around you instead of you, that it’s a self portrait of his own obsession.

Your face. Your curves. The many separated sections where he tried to master the texture of your hair. All those traces of you live in his sketchbook. Only twice has he turned in a portrait of you.

Being told he can’t have you makes Steve feel like he’s been too obvious. You’re his little secret. And he is no fool. He’ll have to be more careful. So here he is.

The canvas is as bare as the walls of his studio apartment.

Three jobs and a potted plant from his mom just aren’t enough to decorate life. He wishes he could capture sleep in a picture frame and hang it on the wall. When he got too tired and caffeine stopped working, he thinks he’d pick up those frames and absorb the sleep in the way he can absorb nostalgia when looking at a real picture.

Then, he thinks, that’s the sort of thing art majors say when they haven’t slept in three weeks.

The canvas is still bare. It isn’t like Steve. He always knows where to go, what he feels, what he wants.

His teacher told him to try something different. Had the nerve to clap Steve on the back after class and say something about stretching creative wings and finding a new muse.

He thinks the guy should have punched him in the face instead.

There’s nothing stuck about Steve. He knows what he wants and how to get there.

He also knows that schooling ruins the intent of art, he knows how to put love into colors, that art teachers know the least about expression out of everyone on earth, and that he works two night jobs a week to barely afford to be taught by that man anyway.

Life is full of oddities.

-

Some of life’s oddities are right there in your cart as you approach. Steve notices the rain has frizzed your hair, the lovely heart shaped curve of your lips as they stretch into a smile, and the way you yawn before you say hello to the cashier.

He makes a mental note that your hair might have a warmer tinge when illuminated by the sun. You’re already his sun. His stars too. Maybe even his whole universe.

You’re always warm in his paintings. Anything to separate you from the dreadful scheme of this commercial death trap.

What’s for dinner this week?

Your groceries thump onto the counter in practiced succession. Perishables together at the front, and non perishables as neatly as possible following behind.

So thoughtful, my sweet darling.

Your produce today mostly consists of fruit. It reminds Steve of how practiced he is with a knife. How he’d slice up your apples just right for you. He has the practiced skills of an artist. He’d take care of you.

Bucky likes to tell him that cooking is the art and baking is the science. That’s meant to mean that it’s no surprise that Buckys got a perfect little life with a perfect little baker who smiles like the sun and only trusts Bucky in her kitchen.

...And it’s no surprise that Steve’s artsy streak has led him here. Thinking about folding mandarin slices between your perfect lips and letting the flavor explode across your tongue.

He thinks about kissing you. How you would taste tangy and sweet as you try not so hard to push him off so he gets back to cooking and doesn’t burn the house down.

The house. A house with you. A home.

He sees you’re wearing a sundress, and tries not to pity you for the irony. In the closet of some cookie cutter three bedroom, you might ask him how you look in it. He would beg you to wear it just for him a little longer, but ultimately, he would have been able to warn you about the rain.

You wouldn’t have listened though, my stubborn angel.

He thinks about your thighs beneath your dress, and the heat between them.

Sometimes, his dreams betray him, and he steps through the threshold to your shared home, not an artist, but a “Honey, I'm home” suit wearing prisoner.

He fears the simple life, but with you, he believes simplicity could be enough. Maybe he would be rich enough to buy you a million sundresses.

But without his art, he’d be powerless to show you how rich you look, bathed in color, divine from his perspective.

Without his art, he has no outlet for imagination. The only thing that gets him off these days is imagining what you look like under your clothes, and how it might sound if you spoke his name.

When you buy lotion, or a candle, he makes a mental note of the scent, and uses it to color his experience later. You like warm sugary scents, or natural outdoorsy ones, with no in between.

As you small talk with the cashier, your card slips from between your fingers and clatters onto the unswept floor. Finishing a thought, you delay in retrieving it, but by the time you’re leaning down, Steve’s already handing it back.

Eyes flitting up to meet the baggage boy standing up at full height, you melt into an easier smile.

You notice first that his eyes are incredibly blue behind the dark window frames, and second that his hands are incredibly warm as he hands your card back.

Frazzled, and just a bit smitten, you smile kindly.

“Thank you,” you say sweetly, regarding him fully, perhaps for the first time, and pausing only to let your eyes drift to the knitted cotton polo stretched across his broad chest—no, to the name tag resting on it…

“Steve,” you finish with a smile that makes it ring like an exclamation point. To hear you finally pronounce his name… it’s like church bells. But they’re muted because now he can only consider your eyes locked on his.

He’s never wanted to escape somewhere and go home with someone so badly. And would it be so wrong?

He could slice up fruit for you. He could bring sausages and deli meats and blocks of cheeses whole from the market where they slipped him things free. He’d slice them up nice and wrap them in cloth and surprise you with an old fashioned wicker basket picnic in the mountains.

He’d let you eat yourself round. And after you were full, he’d still offer to feed you grapes, to pour you more wine.

Steve never understood why the rich ate bread with olive oil, but God he wanted to be rich enough to give you that. All the things that sound ridiculous to people who work to live. He wanted to work so hard you’d never work again.

He wanted to kiss you dizzy, bunch up the fabric of your dress on your hip and tell you he loves you while you’re wine drunk. He’d carry you back to the car and surprise you with wildflowers in a bunch.

Later, he’d paint you nude with them in your hair, and he’d feed you more grapes.

He would tuck you in and wrap you up for later when you woke up missing him. Maybe he wouldn’t leave at all. Maybe you would want to spend the whole day with him too.

He’s got a twinkle of charm in his eye and just a bit of sadness that looks every bit like the starving artist people believe him to be. Bucky hasn’t stopped bringing him the leftover rolls at closing since he found out Steve spends more money on paint than meals.

And is it so wrong? As Steve looks into your eyes, he musters all that charm his mom said he was born with. He blinks brighter the twinkle in his eye.

“You’re welcome,” comes Steve’s gentle, but sure reply.

You pause at that, because really it’s nothing... But people always seem to say “Don’t worry about it!”, “It’s nothing”, or maybe nothing at all.

You pause at how the reaction seemed genuine, in a world of practiced replies, and on a day that you’re feeling shitty because the rain ruined your hair and happiness.

You smile at him again, grateful for a pocket of truthful kindness, and turn back to the cashier, effectively ending the interaction.

Steve’s mind is spinning in ways he just can’t bring himself to understand. So he bags your groceries. You forgot the reusable bags, he doesn’t pause to wonder why.

Click. Click. Click. Beep!

Tomatoes. He bags them with the apples. Double bags for good measure.

Beep.

Spaghetti. The good kind that most people overlook in favor of a more common brand. New bag.

Beep.

Frozen garlic bread. He adores you. You’ve got garlic and basil and more herbs than you’ll ever need at home. You’d probably make the spaghetti noodles and parmesan yourself if you could. But you love five minutes at 400 garlic bread.

He imagines your pretty little kitchen, with all its various knick knacks, smelling like garlic and tomato sauce. He can’t help thinking you’d be impressed with his chopping skills too. Just how his mom taught him.

He imagines cooking with you in the dead of night, instead of being here. He imagines you bending over with your legs straight and your back curved and the oven mitts on to get garlic bread out of the oven. You put the tray on the cold burners Steve’s not using.

Maybe he would ask you to try the sauce, he’d hold the spoon to your lips after blowing off for you. Your eyes always flutter closed to process the taste of things, and sometimes he swears he could read your mind.

Then they would open. Wide. The same way they did when you tasted the new product double chocolate brownie sample last Tuesday. You would tell him how perfect it is and praise how he finally isn’t shy about using garlic anymore. Turning off the burners, he’d pull you into his arms, he’d kiss you til you saw stars…

-

Walking you backwards, still entangled in the breathless kiss, he wouldn’t stop until you bumped the padded kitchen bench. Then he’d fall to his knees.

“Steve, honey”—

You’d cut yourself off with a breathy moan because he’d already be under your skirt.

Kissing up your thighs, flattening his tongue against you, kissing you gently, before sucking your clit, while working it with the tip of his tongue, he’d show you again, like always, how passionate of a lover he is.

You’d moan like heaven, because you are.

You’d lean back, propping yourself up on an arm and pushing the other hand through his golden hair. You just can’t stop your hips from rolling against his tongue that’s still worshipping you.

He won’t use his fingers. It wouldn’t be proper, he’s just been cooking. So instead, he uses those hands to pull your thighs up onto his shoulders.

Still swirling his tongue around your clit, Steve is drawing you closer, your body seeming to know it’s own ways to pull him to you too.

It’s electric. You can’t stop and you’d never want to. He’d make love to you every single—

-

That’s not where he is though. He grabs the paper bags he’s bagged up with your ingredients and some other oddities, and he places them in the cart you’ve pushed forward.

He tries not to think about the fact that you’re going home alone. He tries not to think about how he’ll be sleeping alone, and in cold colors. Tries to skip forward to later when he has all the time in the world to imagine the way things should be.

A quiet goodnight and you’re on your way. You’re careful not to graze him as you walk away, and he’s careful not to be obvious watching.

The cashier leaves the station, and Steve puts his head down as he passes, before looking up in your direction as he always does.

Except… when he looks up to see your sundress swishing, it isn’t. And you’re turned back looking at him with this funny little look.

You smile. A twinkle of embarrassment, nervous to have been caught looking. He tries not to chuckle for all the irony.

He watches you as you watch him just a bit longer, before your sundress swishes out the door, and the light of your halo fades into the distance, consumed by the rain.

-

By the time his shift is up, the rain has stopped and the sky is colored like a bruise. The sun knocks at a threshold unseen, just slightly feathering light through the sky.

Steve is dead tired, but he won’t sleep a wink. Once he arrives at his apartment, he begins the project.

A mixed medium piece. Acrylic paint, charcoal shadowed details. It’s a wicker basket, full of apples, grapes, and wildflowers.

-

Later, as the sun rises, and the painting is half done, he flops into bed, finishing up a stale roll from the bakery, and dreams about waking up to you.

He pretends there’s no job to be at in three and a half hours, but instead, that it’s a quiet Sunday, and he’s waking up to you in his arms...

Soft and ethereal.

-

Thank you for reading!

Whether or not this is your type of writing, or you liked it at all, I just want to tag some authors who generally inspire me and helped in some way to motivate me posting my first piece: @threeminutesoflife @imanuglywombat @sherrybaby14 @jtargaryen18 @heavenbarnes @tropicalcap @allaboardthereadingrailroad @thotty-tatertot @sapphirescrolls

[tams-writeblr]

Once I’m gone

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: major character death

Category: F/M (main couple), Multi (side characters)

Fandom: Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin

Relationship: Mikasa Ackermann / Eren Jaeger | various side couples

Characters: Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackermann, Armin Arlelt, Zeke Jaeger, Hange Zoe, Floch Forster, Ymir, Reiner Braun, Pieck Finger, Historia Reiss, several others will make a cameo

Additional Tags: Modern AU | established relationship | toxic behaviour | Eren suffers from Huntington’s disease and tries to settle his matters before he dies | suicial blockhead Eren | aged up characters (by ten years) | suicide tw | depression tw | mental diseases tw | deathly diseases tw | this is clearly not write what you know, but I’m giving my very best to representate the topics as good as I can | this all basically came to me as a fever dream | you remember Thirteen from House, M.D.? I still have a huge crush on her so this version of Eren is greatly inspired by her <3

Language: English (not native, I’m trying my best you guys)

Stats: ongoing - Chapter 1/15 - Part 2/4 - 1507 of 3652 words

Summary: Eren Jaeger knew for years that he inherited Huntington’s disease from his late mother. When he first notices symptoms on him, his long protected plan, to end his life before reaching the critical state of his illness,  awakes. But there is still Mikasa, his girlfriend and the only person in the world he cares about more than about himself, and he can’t leave her alone and grieving. It’s time to find a substitute for when Eren is gone. With the help of a new friend Eren tries to scare away Mikasa while driving her into the arms of someone new.

__________________________________________________

Charlatans and Pills - Part 2/4

<<previous

“Hey Mama”, the small, dark haired boy said and pulled his hand towards the woman that sat sunk down on an uncomfortable looking chair.

She didn’t directly look at him, only giving his pulled out hand a small, arbitrary glance and looked up towards the man, standing behind Eren.

“But Carla, Dear”, Eren's father said with a cheerful tone. “Shake at least our Eren’s hand. Aren’t you happy that we are visiting you?”

A thin lipped smile crawled over Carla’s face and her light brown eyes finally found Eren’s glance. “Eren”, she sighed recognizing and rather than just taking his hand, she slipped down her chair and tightly hugged him.

Tighter than Eren would have liked it. He looked up to his father, seeking help, insecure how to behave. She still was his mother, the one that always loved him and guessed every wish from his eyes.

Eren had found out that she was sick, three years ago. Back then they also told him, he eventually would get the same sickness. She often dropped things and so she did on his eleventh birthday with a knife to cut his cake. It fell right on her foot and she had to go to the hospital. After this incident, she never returned to her old self. She behaved strangely ever so often, screaming at his dad for obviously no reason.

But the strangest was when Eren came home from school one day. His father was still at work, he had a small practice in the middle of town, and usually a delicious lunch was waiting for him when he returned home from school. But on this day nothing smelled nice through the house, on the contrary it stank horribly of burned food and everything was full with smoke. Eren found his mother in the upstairs bathroom, her hands were dripping with blood, he had found shards in the kitchen.

“What do you want?”, his mother screamed and held her blood stained hands in front of her face. “Get out! I have to hide from the smoke!”

Puzzled Eren neared his mother. “But Mama, you have to turn off the oven or else whatever's on there will burn even more. Did you cut yourself? Do you need a bandaid?”

“Get our!”, Carla yelled again. “Who the hell are you, how did you get into my house?”

Helpless tears wobbled out of big, green child’s eyes. “Mama”, he whined and ducked away under a roll of toilet paper his mother threw at him. Desperately the boy backed out of the bathroom and ran back to the kitchen where he pulled all knobs of the oven until the red control light went off, then he remembered what his father always had hammered inside his little head: to call him at work, when something was wrong with Mum.

“The number is pinned on the fridge”, he had told him again and again. “I’ll be with you within 15 minutes.” If not at this moment, when should he bother his father at work? Quickly the boy looked for the phone around the smoke filled house, luckily he found it in the living room and not like so often in his parents bedroom. He wouldn’t have dared to walk past the upper bathroom in which he still suspected his mother.

His father indeed arrived within minutes. He found Carla beneath the toilet, sunk down and asleep and immediately called an ambulance. “I’m so sorry”, he murmured again and again while pressing the sobbing and crying Eren against him. “You’ll never have to be alone with her again. Everything will be alright.”

His mother didn’t return home after this incident. His father explained to him that she would now live somewhere, where people could look after her more appropriately. There no knife would fall on her food ever again and she wouldn’t burn any more pans.

But Eren found the place where they brought her simply terrifying. There were only old people. Not old people like his father but really old, probably older than his grandparents. It always smelled strangely and scary sounds came from some chambers.

Eren curled out of his mother’s embrace and his father came to help him.

“There, there Carla, not so fiercely”, he laughed and directed her gently back towards her chair. Then he took place across from her and placed a hand on her knee. “Well my Dear, how are you feeling today?”

Carla looked at him for a long time with a stoic face. At that her left arm twitched permanently. It hit against her thigh and the seating of the chair.

Eren watched the movement hypnotized and flinched when his mother took a deep, loud breath.

“Grisha”, she said with unmistakable joy in her voice. her twitching arm raised and her hand landed accurately on her husband’s. A smile crept towards her lips. “My Dear…” Suddenly she was once again his mother, the pretty woman with light brown eyes and dark hair, sun kissed skin and the most beautiful smile in the world.

Eren felt lighter than before and placed his small child’s hand above his mother’s. She only looked at him briefly, out of the corner of her eyes, before taxing Grisha again. The three of them stayed like this for a while in total silence. Only a far away, old and male voice asked when it was finally time for dinner.

The clearing of a throat crushed the family idly and Eren and his mother heavily flinched.

Carla’s head shot high to look at the creator of the noice’s face. Her own one suddenly started to twitch wildly.

“Mr. Jäger, can I please talk to you for a moment?”, a man in a white coat said. From his father Eren knew that doctors dressed like that.

Grisha got up and agreed with a dark look on his face. “Eren, sit down for so long. I’ll be right back.”

“You are a doctor?”, Eren heard the other man ask when he walked away with his father. The latter didn’t answer, maybe he had only nodded. “Then you must know about the condition your wife is in.”

Eren couldn’t hear more from the conversation. But from the look on his mother’s face, he could tell that her glance followed them.

He didn’t want to turn out like her. What was that for a life? Eren still couldn’t quite understand what was wrong with his mother, but he knew she always forgot things, sometimes even him or his father and that she always flapped around her arms. He didn’t want that, especially not the thing with forgetting. Carefully he took her hand between both of his. “I’m not gonna forget you, Mama”, he said tenderly and patted her hand that was gaunt and wiry. “I promise.”

Carla looked at her boy dumbfounded before pulling her eyebrows into a painful grimace. “Oh Eren, my little baby,” she cried and thick tears wobbled out of her eyes. Fragile and smaller as he remembered her she sat on that horribly uncomfortable chair, her hand between the small palms of her son.

Scared by her sudden burst of emotion Eren pulled his hands away. Two faces, so similar to each other that everyone would see their connection, looked at each other with a mixture of horror and hurt.

When his father returned, Eren asked him to leave.

“Come back soon!”, he heard his mother say softly when Grisha leaned down to her and kissed her.

He promised they would, of course he did. And of course they kept their promise. Eren couldn’t say how many hours of his youth he had spent in that foster home that cared for his mother. The doctors and nurses there did a wonderful job, they deeply cared for his mother, who visibly crumpled infront of her small family’s eyes. She got thinner and thinner and ever more erratic. Until she neither recognized Grisha nor Eren. Sometimes she remembered to have a son called Eren but in her memory he was still a ten-years-old that had broken his arm while wrestling with his friends. That the handsome young man infront of her was her small Eren, she wouldn’t get the idea despite their striking resemblance.

Finally her spasticies became so bad that it became too dangerous to let her eat solid food and she got a feeding tube. From this moment on, things went continuously down hill for Carla Jäger, whose husband was a doctor himself who slowly broke down by looking at her.

Almost exactly ten years after moving to the foster home and a little over 13 years after her diagnosis Carla died on a stormy fall evening. She hadn’t seen her son in four month, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

But losing his mother had broken something deep inside of Eren. Now a full grown man, he knew which fate his mother had handed down to him. But he also knew back than, how he would be reacting towards it, when his time came.

                                                                               >>next

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Author’s Note: Hey, thank you for coming back to me! I hope you don’t mind when long flashbacks like this are all in Italics, I know they can be hard to read. Just for Context: Carla was 30 when she had Eren in this story and she dies at 51. Can’t have a main character without a tragic family backstory, can we? See you for the next part!

[sleepy-exe]

Shapeshifter AU - 4

Iwaizumi x f!reader

<< Part 3 | Part 5 >>

Summary: Iwaizumi goes stargazing with Y/n at a park in the forest. She tries to find out what he knows. She then stays the night with him for more info, but what’s the plan? Sakusa just wants his friend to be safe.

Word count: 2.8k 

Warnings: y/n makes bad choices, and is kind of a creep but confronts that, poor Sakusa’s driving skills get shit talked and he ain’t even here, murder mentioned (1) one time, I prob got too detailed with the car reveal, sakusa is best boy, iwa’s a total dad 

Genre: sfw (for now, 18+ regardless), shapeshifter au, strangers to potential enemies to friends to lovers

a/n: I probably wrote too much about the car, but I’m a car guy (gal? person?). I hope yall like stars/stargazing. This is like borderline fluff. Also did you like Sakusa’s contact name. Cause I thought it was funnier than it actually is.

Part 4: It Can’t Hurt

Now outside the bar, the two of them headed for her car. There was only street parking when Y/n arrived earlier, so she had to walk down the street for a good 5 minutes or so to get there; all along they chatted about Ikuno. She never really came here except for the dive bar. It was only about a 15 minute drive here from work, so that was a bonus, but otherwise she had no reason to be in Ikuno.

Reaching her black Civic, the doors unlocked. She crawled into the passenger seat herself as Iwaizumi agreed to drive to the park. Being a shifter, she’s not too afraid of being in the car with a stranger. Surely she could defend herself against one guy - she’d be alone with him in the car and at the park. On the other hand, if he thinks there’s something weird up with her, such as being able to turn into a wolf, she wondered why he would even agree to tag along. Wouldn’t he be afraid of her?

Once he was in and shut the door, he was checking out the interior: black with red accents on the dash, doors, and steering wheel. In dash computer, racing style seats and petals. “When you said you drove a Civic, this isn’t what I was expecting.” He found the push start before bothering to ask for the keys.

“She’s cute, huh? ‘17 Type-R. My baby,” she went on, running a hand over the dash affectionately and giving it a little pat.

“’Cute’.. Not sure if that’s the word I’d choose.” He gave her a concerned look, “You really want a stranger driving your.. ‘baby’?”

“What are ya shit at driving?” She teased, “Please. I’m not letting you take off without me.” The memory of Sakusa learning to drive a manual in Type-R when it was new popped in her head. That was a rough day for her poor car. If this guy really knows how to drive a manual, then it can’t be any worse for it than when Sakusa is driving. She chuckled, “A friend I let drive it, I taught him to drive stick in this. He still isn’t great, but he doesn't stall it nearly as much as he used to.” She shrugs and taps on the screen in the dash, setting the GPS for the park.

“You taught your friend to drive in this?” He started the engine, put it in first gear, and pulled out of the parking spot flawlessly.

“To drive a manual,” she corrected, “He could already drive. He just only drives automatics. I tried telling him these are a lot more fun.”

The bar isn’t that far from the highway, so they were on it in no time. Driving down the highway, again he was shifting through gears smoothly. A nice change from the rough shifting she usually experiences while riding passenger. She should really get Sakusa to practice more. Not that he wants to. Deciding to text Sakusa, she pulls out her phone and sends him her GPS location for their little outing. Just to be safe. It’s not even quite 10pm yet, so he shouldn’t care. Though regardless he’d never complain about this sort of text.

More time went by as they traveled down the highway. They sat in silence, other than the engine and various street sounds. It wasn’t too awkward and Iwaizumi has yet to complain like she’s used to. If anything, he might be enjoying the ride.

With a buzz, she checks her texts. Sakusa replied and asked that she check in later so he knows she's safe. As much as she mentally shit talks his driving, she knows he’s an amazing friend and she loves him to death.

Checking his text, she was reminded of Oikawa’s text in the bar essentially asking if she were single. Though he was likely teasing and just trying to text something other than ‘hi’ or his name, but why not have fun with it.

>> To ’Oi-chan‘: “who’s asking?”

“So,” she breaks the silence, “Have you been to this park?”

“What one is it again?” He glanced at the GPS’s listed destination, “No, I haven’t been in that area. At least not that I can’t think of.”

“But you’ve been south of there then?”

He hesitated. “I haven’t been in the forest or surrounding parks. I've just been by them. I have friends that live around there and down the street is a convenience store right by the tree line that I sometimes run to if I’m over there.. But other than that, I don’t know the forest or the area for that matter.”

“I see.. It’s really beautiful out there.”

“Maybe I’ll have to go sometime when the sun’s out then. You’re a regular, right? Maybe you can show me around?”

Well. Sort of.

Not a regular at the trails and parks. Or being there during daylight hours. “I wouldn’t say regular.. I haven’t been to this park in ages.”

He had no response. Only looking out the windshield as he exited the highway. The GPS showed only 8 minutes left. The area ahead full of trees.

Y/n directed Iwaizumi where to park as the gates to the parking lot were closed. All nature parks are closed at night after all. There was even a sign stating that and warning visitors not to enter after dark, but where’s the adventure in following those warnings?

“You.. Sure we should be here?” Iwaizumi asked warily, walking alongside her in the grass. They left the car along the road, but no one should be out here this late so it’s fine.

“Like legally or..?”

“Y/n!”

She laughed and led him to an open field. The trees were far enough from this spot to give a clear view of the sky, stars twinkling, crescent moon shining. This really is the best place to stargaze. She wasn't lying about that.

“Hey! Don’t run!” He yelled as she took off for the middle of the field, giggling in response.

“I’m sure you can catch up, Mr. Athletic Trainer!”

“That’s not-“

But she wasn't listening. Instead she was slowing down as she reached the perfect spot, sitting down in the grass. Very soon he was sitting down too, a couple feet from her.

He wasn’t even in arms reach. “Okay, so what now.”

She smiles at him then looks to the sky. It can be hard to see the stars with how bright the city was, but out here was far enough away from any unnatural light source that she could pick out constellations. Well, the ones she knew anyway.

The both of them sat quietly, looking to the stars, hearing nothing but the nocturnal sounds of the woods surrounding them. Generally such spaces were incredibly calming, but with the anticipated conversation her heart was pounding. She still didn’t know anything for sure and her excuse of too many people around to ask questions, like at the bar, didn’t work here. Alone, far from anyone, in her element - what better time to find her answers.

In a low voice, still admiring the stars, she spoke, “So.. You’ve seen me ‘round before, huh?”

She peeks at him from the corner of her eye. No response, he’s only staring forward. So she continues, “Like at that bar? ..I’m not in Ikuno much, and deeper in the city can be so crowded, I doubt you would have noticed me anywhere there.” She tried not to jump straight to the point. Frightened prey always ran after all.

In a similar tone, he answers, “Maybe the bar.. Maybe we crossed paths elsewhere..”

Still looking up, though not at anything in particular, she hummed. “I think I’ve seen you before too.” She could feel his eyes on her now, but chose to not make eye contact and instead point up to a small constellation she found. She named what she thought it was aloud, pointing it out to Iwaizumi.

“Where?” He squinted at the sky, no idea which stars she was pointing to.

With a snicker she inched closer to him. Tracing a finger in the air, “Look. Right there. A few kinda go in a line and some off the side.”

He keeps staring at the sky, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Pretty sure you’re just crazy.”

The look she threw his way was comical, “No! I’m not!”

“Uh huh.. Definitely crazy.. You didn’t bring me out here to kill me, did you?” He looked back to her, serious as ever, “..‘Cause Oikawa will be so upset if I don't show up for lunch tomorrow. Seriously. He’ll whine so much, and he has your number now. He’ll absolutely call you and whine, thinking I’m ignoring him. You don't want that, right?”

She stared blankly at him. For a second there she really did think he was serious. “..Yeah. That sounds really annoying. I’d hate to have to deal with a sobbing Oikawa.” She attempted a playful tone that may or may not have failed. She followed up with a chuckle for good measure, “Guess I can’t commit murder then. That’d look bad on my record anyway. Plus, someone as pretty as me in prison? No thanks.”

He laughed and leaned back on his hands, gaze back at the sky. Tension down, she scooted closer. “There really is a constellation there, I swear.”

“Yeah. I see it.” He glanced towards her for a split second, “I was just fucking with you.”

Her jaw dropped. “Rude!”

She returned her attention to the sky, searching for any other constellation she might recognize. He even pointed one out to her, though he couldn’t remember what it was called. Unfortunately, she couldn’t either, but it was definitely a constellation. Had to be.

“..The convenient store you said your friend’s by. I think I’ve seen you there before. Maybe you recognized me from there?” Silence, but she noticed he was looking at her again. Slowly she turned her head to meet his gaze. Keeping calm, she gave him a light smile. He didn’t look all that uneasy, like she felt in her gut. She spoke with warmth, desperate to keep the conversation from getting uncomfortable, “Iwaizumi?”

The corners of his lips ticked up and mischief shined in his eyes. “What are you a stalker or something?” He laughed as she scoffed. “Fine. I've probably been there enough times. Maybe I did see you there before.”

Leaning her head back, she looked at the sky once more, but this time she wasn't searching the stars.

He doesn't seem like he’ll be a problem..

She was sitting much closer now than when they first arrived at the park. Carefully, she leaned her head on his shoulder, inhaling orange and sage and something else. She glances up to him before quickly averting her eyes to the stars one more time.

Soon both of them were walking out of the field. “I can take you home,” she offered.

Iwaizumi was trailing close to her side, heading back to the car that was left forgotten along the small paved road. Luckily, no authorities showed up. “I might take you up on that. It won't be out of the way will it?”

“If you’re in Ikuno, then that’s not too awfully far off from my drive home.” She gave him a teasing look, “Unless you would rather go to my place.. Though Ikuno is closer. Maybe I’ll just stay with you.”

He rolled his eyes and complained, “Are you really inviting yourself to my apartment?” Nudging her arm with his, and teased, “Think I wouldn’t invite you myself?”

She cocked a brow, “Oh?” Car now in sight, she heads for the driver’s door, making the car unlock. “I’ll drive.” Opening the door she added, “Just put your address in the GPS for me.”

Mini mission complete.

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “didn’t die. didn’t go home tho”

Following Iwaizumi into his apartment, Y/n kicked off her shoes by the door and hung up her coat. He had done the same and was headed for the kitchen to the right. “Hungry? Want anything?”

“Nah, thanks though.” She helped herself to the armchair in the corner across the room. His home felt warm and cozy, the sofa now to her right looked just as comfortable as the chair she’s in, coffee table mostly neat with books and a stack of papers. A soft area rug covered the center of the living room, covering a large portion of the wooden floors, the walls were a soft tan and to her surprise not completely bare. An entertainment center sat against the wall opposite of the sofa, a bookcase next to that. And there’s the large window to her left on the wall behind her. It gave that homey vibe. Looking lived in, but not a mess.

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “Do you plan on going home or are you going on one of your late night runs?”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’:“Should I stay up waiting on a I’m home text?”

Iwaizumi walked in from the kitchen with two glasses of water and placed one on the coffee table in front of her.

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “neither and no”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “go to sleep sakusa”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “and thank you”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “I want to ask but also don't want to know so goodnight Y/n. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Without spilling his water, Iwaizumi fell back on the sofa, watching as she typed away on her phone. “Letting someone know where you are?”

“Maybe,” she mumbles, setting her phone in her lap, she reached for the water.

“I mean, that’s a good habit to have if you are.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure you don't want anything to eat?”

She laughed, “Do you normally parent the people you bring home from bars?”

“I’d hardly say I brought you home when you invited yourself over and then complained about being tired halfway here,” he complained.

“Well, I appreciate that ya offered to take over and aren’t forcing me to drive home tired.” She smiled then looked around again. “Do you have a dog or anything? Anyone live with ya? ..Ah! If you don't mind me asking.”

He shook his head, “No. No pets and it's just me here.”

Finishing her water, she carefully set the glass back on the coffee table. “I’m not hungry, but don't let that stop you from eating if you are.. If you don't mind, I may clean up while ya eat.”

“Of course,” he leaned forward to set his half empty glass down and retrieved hers before standing. “I’ll show you where everything is.”

She followed him down a short hallway as he led her to a bathroom. He pointed out anything she might need and got her a towel, as well as offering her clothes to sleep in to be more comfortable. She sniffed different soaps and such while he stepped out for a moment. Returning quickly with what appeared to be a t-shirt and sweatpants. She thanked him as he left the bathroom once more.

“Oh hey,” he stopped in the doorway and pointed in the opposite direction of the living space, “My room is that way. I’m just going to sleep out here.”

“Oh no no no,” she held a hand up, “You sleep in your bed. I’m fine with taking the sofa. I’m already using your place for tonight, it's no bother.”

“I can’t let-“ With the look she shot him, she cut him off. He lifted his hands, “Okay.. I’ll be in the kitchen for now.”

And with that he was gone, door closing behind him. Flipping the lock, she turned back to the shower. Turning it on, she messed with the temperature until it was just right before stripping and getting in.

After a probably longer than necessary shower, she felt clean and now smelled of sage, orange, and black pepper. Sweeping her damp hair back and out of her face, she got into the clothes he left for her. Which admittedly didn't fit the best, but they’d work. She stared at her dirty clothes for a moment before deciding to just leave them in a neat pile in there and picked up her phone.

Stepping into the hall, she didn't hear anything. Walking around the kitchen and living room, she determined he must be in bed already. Setting her phone aside, she situated the newly found blankets and pillows on the sofa and turned off the lights after opening the curtains to let some light into the room so she could find her way around the unfamiliar space. Crawling into the blankets, she played on her phone quietly, too awake and unsure about the decision she made to stay here. She was supposed to find out what she needed and go home. And yet somehow she was in the home of the very person who kept her up all those nights ago, wondering if he had seen her and what was going to happen if he did.

But nothing has happened. And the last sighting was over a week ago.

And he’s been nice to her even though she’s been a total creep.

What’s the plan?

Part 5 >>

[marvelouss-marvel]

Feelings | T.H.

Summary: Tom and Melina have feelings for one another but are lost in expressing this through words. Do actions actually speak louder than words?

Pairing: Tom Holland x OC (who’s black, so you’re welcome ladies)

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: I meant to finish this yesterday but got tied up yesterday with schoolwork. So, I apologize. This is a contribution to the Quarantine Writing Challenge created by @chaneajoyyy​ and @shaekingshitup. Thank you for adding me to my very first writing challenge. Also, I recommend you listen to “Feelings” by Lauv; it’s a masterpiece and the inspiration for this fic.

Is my love too much? Or is it just enough for you, for you? 'Cause it's getting late, would you like to stay? Ah 'Cause I'm bad at reading signs

All evening, Tom had been sneaking glances Melina. The tempered glass on her prevented him from viewing her observations but he knew it had to be either Tumblr or Twitter; both platforms had a tendency of stretching her lips to form that soft smile of hers he’d grown to adore over the last few months. On top of that, she would hold her phone up to his face once in a while to grant Tom the chance of witnessing what made her snort.

Although secretly watching her was simple, Tom found it difficult to prevent his thoughts from skedaddling all over the place like ants running from human feet. He was attempting to gather the courage in revealing his true feelings to her but a second of his mouth opening effected the various “what if” scenarios he created.

His ringtone for Harrison went off, pulling the two best friends out of their silent world. Tom reached for his phone on the small coffee table but paused his actions once he noticed the time. “Uh, Mel?”

“Hmm…?” she hummed. She was quick to retreat back into her personal bubble.

“You do realize it’s 2 in the morning, right?” Tom continued.

“W—” Melina paused her video on Twitter to pull the control center down on her phone. “Crap! I gotta go!” She stood from the couch to begin gathering her scattered belongings.

She was right that she needed to leave… but Tom didn’t want that. Sure, they hardly spoke to one another for the rest of the night after watching the 2-hour long Netflix film but he wanted her company a bit longer. In addition to that, it was too early in the morning for him to be questioning her whereabouts.

A lightbulb went off in his head but it was the idea itself that rapidly pumped the blood to his heart. “You know… you can stay the night?”

Melina scoffed. “Tom, no. We’re not having this discussion.”

“Um, yeah we are. It’s late Mel. And I don’t want you out.”

“I know how you feel, dad, but I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.” She slightly rotated her head to wink his way. The irony of her statement was that she was petite for her age. Most of their friends were five-foot-five and above while Melina was often mistaken for an elementary student trying to fit in with the “big kids.”

Tom shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. “Melina, no. Stay the night.”

“And miss the comfort of my bed? I don’t think so but thank you for the offer Tommy.”

Before Tom knew it, he was taking long strides to the front door and snatching her leather coat off the coat rack before her arm could reach out. Melina only raised one of her perfectly shaped brows she managed to do on her own in response.

“Okay?” she voiced. “What’re you doing?”

In that moment, Tom realized how much of a freak he perceived himself to be. He resembled a robot by shoving the item in her direction for her to take. “Um, I think it’s too late. And, I was wondering if you wanted to stay the night? It’s just I worry about you as your friend this time of the day.”

It took her a moment to respond but once she finally gave him his answer, he subtly released a breath he didn’t remember inhaling.

“You know, if you asked like that in the beginning, I would’ve said yes.” Melina smirked as she slid off her shoes. “You’re weird sometimes.” She left him by himself, claiming she needed to use the restroom.

But I, I wanna do whatever you wanna do If you wanted to, girl, we could cross that line

Even after two years of living in London, Melina continued to struggle in socializing. If she wasn’t lounging around in Tom’s apartment, the best friends were at the hottest club with their group of friends. No bad blood existed between her and the others; it was just the environment they chose to reside in for the evening.

Tom always noticed this quiet side of her. How she seemed to shrink in posture with slumped shoulders, even though she was gorgeous in her club attire. How she practiced her nervous habit of fiddling with her hands when it wasn’t her to turn to talk yet. How she sidled up against Tom every chance she got if people (mainly men) needed to squeeze by in reaching their destination. To tell you the truth, Tom found these adorable and made it a mission to protect her every time they went out.

The group had split a few minutes prior with Melina and Tom making their way to the bar. After constant begging, Melina hit the dance floor. Tom and the others cheered her on for three songs until she grew tired and yearned for some water. Like the unspoken bodyguard he was, Tom followed her.

“That was fun.” She began. “I haven’t danced like that since my family reunion.” She flagged the bartender down with a raised palm. “Excuse me, can I get some water?”

The woman behind the counter nodded with a smile and proceeded to fix the drink. Melina didn’t hesitate to grasp the foggy, clear glass and chug a large amount of the cold liquid down her throat.

Tom chuckled. “And when was that?”

He watched her chocolate eyes shift to stare at the ceiling in deep thought. “Like July? Of 2018?”

“Aren’t those every year?” he wondered. Last time he remembers having this discussion with Melina, she stated her family met up in the middle of July at one of the local parks every year.

“Yeah but, my parents didn’t go last year and don’t plan on going again this year. I gotta ask my mom again w—”

The sudden pause in the short story encouraged Tom to look up from the bar and into Melina’s eyes. Only, she was looking beyond him with an expression representing discomfort.

“That guy’s been eying me all night. I don’t like it.” she disclosed.

Tom swiveled around in his seat to find the man she was talking to. His eyes were able to pinpoint the stranger instantly searching for another area in sight to claim for straing. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm.” Melina affirmed with a nod of her head. She gazed at the back of her best friends head, praying he wasn’t thinking about making a scene. That’s the last thing she wanted for him. “Hey Tom?”

“Yeah Love?” His eyes were back on her, softer than before when he reversed the role of eying the creeper.

Melina only pursed her lips in embarrassment. After the first club incident where an intoxicated man approached Melina and Tom stepped in to play the role of a protective boyfriend, it had become an unannounced habit to cozy up with one another to ward off the eyes of complete strangers. Still, Melina was anxious in requesting his form of rescuing.

“Come here, Darling.” Tom urged. One of his arms wrapped itself around her waist to twist her body so her back faced him. That same arm also maneuvered her to sit on his lap like a child posing with Santa Claus for a picture.

At this point in their friendship, Melina considered Tom to be her second home. Her immediate family lived thousands of miles away, calling her when they could on Whatsapp and bringing a smile to her face. Tom provided her the same form of comfort just about every day now that her life was here in London.

Realizing this, Melina rested her back against his chest as if he were a pillow. This was temporary but, she couldn’t help but want a little more.

But I feel 'em in my chest A tiny war within But when I pull you closer Girl, I can't explain

Two months had passed but that didn’t stop the two from growing closer in physical contact. Behind closed doors, Tom did more of pulling her into his side when sitting on the couch and for some odd but cute reason, Melina felt the need to straddle his lap when presenting exciting news.

Today was Melina’s hair day and she needed help taking out the box braids she had installed over a month ago. If she took the braids out herself, it would’ve taken longer due to how exhausted she was again from another rough week at work. So, Tom was her next option.

“Sorry if I ripped you away from any plans you had.” She apologized for the fourth time that day.

Tom scoffed. “Darling, how many times do I have to tell you to stop apologizing? I’m currently on break from work and trust me, I’d rather be here than at my place by myself. Haz went out with the crew and I wasn’t up for that today.” He explained. “Besides, I’d rather be here with you.”

A tiny smile sufficed, which didn’t match the beating of her heart that suddenly felt as if it was trying to crawl out of her chest.

“Putting these in looks hard but taking them out? Different story.” Tom commented.

“You’re telling me. Which is why I have other people do it for me. I knew a girl who installed similar braids herself but… it didn’t really come out right in the back. I think it was her first time.”

“Reminds me of the first time Harry tried giving himself a trim.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We ended up giving him a decent buzz cut.”

Her giggle had now become music to Tom’s ears. Whether it be her speaking, crying, or laughing, Tom wanted to record her voice and carry it with him for his travels away from home.

Home. She was now home to him. But how could he reveal that truth to her when his feelings ran deep and he didn’t want to ruin what they had?

He continued to remove her braids in tranquil silence while Melina pulled out her iPad to play a few levels of Homescapes. The further he moved up her head, the more Melina relaxed against his torso by slouching.

The close form of contact affected the temperature of his armpits. Tom was currently stuck on the level of Friendzoning where physical contact with Melina affected how his body responded to her touches. From sweaty armpits to a beating heart, Tom felt powerless in controlling his reactions. And it didn’t help that her head rested above his heart.

It was six-thirty when Tom was pulling the last braid from Melina’s natural hair. She was just shutting her eyes at this point with her iPad turned off and cradled under arms like a student on her way to class. Slumberland grasped her conscious mind once Tom’s fingers began massaging her scalp. Sure, it was dirty but it was necessary her head receive a good kneading from someone aside from herself.

“Feel good, Love?” he whispered.

She hummed in satisfaction. “I need this.”

And I know, and I know that it's on your mind That it's on your mind when I kiss you But I wanna do whatever you wanna do

“I like you. A lot.” Tom panted.

It was the first thing he blurted to Melina as soon as she opened the door to her apartment. He looked as if he’d ran the whole way with his disheveled hair, slightly wet face, and drenched-in-sweat T-shirt he the threw on.

“What?” Melina whispered. Her heart and mind were hoping he meant what he meant.

“I like you a lot. And I mean that as in I have a major crush on you. I have for a while.” He elaborated in between breaths.

Melina ushered him in with a wave of her hand. “Come in, Tommy.”

He stepped over the threshold into the warmth of her apartment. His nose immediately picked up the scent of seasoning for her famous enchilada’s. The ceiling lights were dimmed to create a relaxing vibe. Behind her living space, the tiny dining table was blanketed with a cream table cloth and a vase of flowers stood in the middle of it.

“I just had a good day today, that’s all. I wanted to give myself a bit of a celebration.” She weakly explained. This moment in particular was something she anticipated for the longest but not in the manner of her appearing to set up for a date that wasn’t with Tom. “Um, so you like me?”

“Yeah, I do.” He moved his eyes away from the setting to fully look at her. Her digits were fiddling with one another again and her eyes landed on the space between their feet. Tom rested his hand over hers to lace their fingers. “I just think you’re… beautiful inside and out. You make me happy every time I’m around and… and I just wanted you to know.” He braced himself for the next part. “But, if you don’t feel the same that’s totally fine.”

She chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I feel the same?”

He knew what she was doing. Things could get awkward when Tom had these truthful moments with people. She wanted to ease his feelings through jokes. “Darling, c—”

“I’m being serious. Why wouldn’t I feel the same about you, Tom? You’re everything I like in a guy. Fine as hell, sweet, funny, and all in all: a gentleman.”

They were holding direct eye contact now, a smirk resting on Melina’s lips. She was the one who eventually leaned in connect their lips. Eyes closed, Tom’s arm snaked itself around her waist to pull her closer while both of Melina’s arms wrapped around his neck.

He moved away first, resting his forehead against hers. “Is there room for one more person for your celebratory dinner.”

“There’s always room for one when I’m having a good day.” She giggled as he leaned down to peck her lips again.

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Holding On for Dear Life

Genre: Fan Fiction (Vikings) Pairing: Hvitserk/OFC Warnings: Medical, Illness, Sexual Content Rating: M Length: Multi Chapter Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Okay, this is something that I have been wanting to write for a long time, but never got to it. It’s not exactly polished a I would like right now, but wanted to posted the first part to see how it went over. Keep in mind, I am doing my best to go about Emmer and her illness as correct as possible, but a good portion of her is actually personal. I mean sure I can bog us all down with medical by the book, but personally I like my own life experience better. 

thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr for the header

Catch Up Here

Hospitals, yuck!

Hvitserk wasn't a fan, then again was anyone?

Ironic that they would be there on the anniversary of them meeting, in this very hospital. Waiting for his best friend – sometimes girlfriend, Hvitserk had sat quietly watching a news programme on mute with captions scrolling across the screen. After what felt like ages, Emmer emerged, slightly sore and exhausted asking Hvitserk if he could take her home.

Cozy in her apartment, Emmer yawned and insisted that Hvitserk was fine to leave her. She'd been through this before, it was nothing new. Bed rest, only fluids, and pain meds only when the label dictated. Although Hvitserk admired her trying to ship him off, he knew better. The last time he listened to Emmer, she had gone and ordered a large pizza and proceeded to eat half of it. Landing her back in the bathroom sicker than when she'd gone to the hospital.

This time, he refused to leave.

“Hvits, I'm fine.” Emmer rubbed her eyes, yawning from the cocktail of medications that she'd received at the hospital.

“Nope, you're not getting rid of me.” Hvitserk shook his head, fluffing the pillow on her couch. He had zero intentions of moving, besides he was too tired to drive again. It didn't matter that his apartment was only a block away.

Hands on her hips, head cocked, Emmer scowled. “I'm not Ivar.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Hvitserk smirked laying down on her couch and yawning.

His baby brother was a far worse patient than Emmer ever thought of being. Although their diseases were nothing alike, they'd both had their fair share of surgery and hospital visits. It was during one of Ivar's stay overs that Hvitserk had wandered the halls of the ward, bumping into the frail girl with the IV pole. Emmer had recovered, gained strength, and a Hvitserk all in a few short months.

“Hvits,” Emmer whined.

“Bed, Emmy. The doctor said you should be on bed rest until tomorrow. You know the drill. If you need me, I won't be far. But I need some sleep, first.” Closing his eyes, Hvitserk took a deep breath, snuggling into the blanket that he'd pulled down from the back of the couch.

Ignoring her would eventually work, growing bored of sitting in the kitchen alone, Emmer would go to bed. If this were under any other circumstance, Hvitserk would have gone to bed with her. Knowing that she'd been in so much pain a few short hours ago, he didn't want to crowd her. Giving her space to wrap her head around the night's events.

Emmer was unfazed and not at all bothered by what had happened, but spending hours in the ER with a blocked stoma took a lot out of a person. Ulcerative Colitis was a cruel mistress, not only causing severe abdominal pains and cramping, but leaving one swollen joints, ulcers in various places, and fatigue. One time Emmer had told Hvitserk on top of that, it was literally the shittiest disease ever. Pun and no pun intended. Tonight's trip had been courtesy of something causing a block in Emmer's small intestine. Unable to pass, sending blinding pain shooting through her abdomen.

She'd called Hvitserk around the third hour of vomiting, asking for him to come over and keep her company. Arriving to find Emmer in the bathroom on the floor soaked in sweat, complaining that she was dizzy Hvitserk grabbed her emergency bag and escorted her to the car.

“Damn peas,” Emmer mumbled leaning against Hvitserk on the way to the car. She'd known better than to eat them, but she couldn't resist. They were there in all their green glory taunting her.  

Home and somewhat comfortable in her bed, Emmer laid looking through her phone. Hvitserk on the other side of the door, stretched out and sleeping on the couch. Outside in the morning sun, the birds sang and the city slowly came to life. Oblivious to what some people were going through.

Each person lived their own life on their own path. Emmer had always believed that, even more so now. Her path had taken a turn, sick for months on end without reason or cause. Doctor's office after Doctor's office. Specialist after Specialist. Disease had nearly ruined her life. Easily, she could have allowed it, but why?

So she'd had some surgeries, a ruptured bowel, no large intestine, and had a bag on her side which was now her new bowel. It wasn't the end of the world and certainly wasn't the end of her life. Emmer enjoyed the freedom it had given her, now she was able to go places and not worry about whether or not she would be left in tears, over not being able to find a public restroom.

Meeting Hvitserk days after her first surgery had been another weird little blessing. He was quirky, sweet, and his own kind of funny. Not to mention he was a pretty good boyfriend. He was patient and gentle, even sticking around to be the supportive best friend when they weren't dating.

Rolling on her right side with a slight wince, Emmer rubbed her tummy above the spot where her bag resided.

“Really Eir?” She rolled her eyes at the grumbling stoma. “Now you're talking?”

Whatever. She shook her head, closing her eyes. Hvitserk would be in shortly, she was sure of it. His love for her plush bed would eventually take over, once he realized the couch was a tad to short.

Stretched out on the couch, his feet resting on the arm rest at the end, Hvitserk was surprisingly comfortable. Although he wished Emmer's couch was about seven inches longer. It was plush, comfortable, and like a cloud, until his ankles began to go numb. Curling his legs up, Hvitserk shifted over onto his side trying to stop his feet from tingling.  Picking his head up, when he heard the bedroom door open.

No matter how hard she tried, Emmer wasn't exactly stealthy. The bottom door hinge and the floor board right outside of her door gave her away. Hvitserk pushing himself to sit up, scratching the back of his head, he looked like he'd been the one in the ER all night, in pain.

“Hey Hvits,” Emmer raised her hands over her head, stretching her shoulders, then dropping them. “What's for breakfast?”

“Why are you out of bed?” Hvitserk scowled with concern.

“Because I'm not tired? The day awaits us, Hvits.”  She'd slept for three hours, it was almost 10AM. Time to be awake and out doing something.

“Your day is going to be spent in bed, binge watching cheesy sitcoms, while drinking tea, and eating broth.” Hvitserk smiled wide at her. “I'll even join you, once I clean up a bit.”

“You don't have to clean my apartment.” Emmer rolled her eyes at him. “I can do it.”

“I know, but I want to help. Besides, if I stay here it's an excuse not to go home. Ubbe had a new lady friend over, I should at least give her time to get out.” He shrugged. His older brother really needed to pick one of his rotating women and settle.

“He still on the rebound?” Emmer dropped onto the couch beside Hvitserk. Leaning over onto his shoulder, glancing up at him.

“Yep,” Hvitserk nodded. “Margrethe really fucked with his head. We have a talent for picking bat shit crazy women, you know. I think it's genetic or some shit.”

“Your mom isn't bat shit crazy.” Emmer countered. “She's just angry that your dad kept fucking around on her.”

“Understandable, although what did she expect? He did meet her, while he was married.” Rubbing his face, Hvitserk sighed. His family would never be up for any sort of Family of the Year awards.

“Your dad still seeing Yidu?”

“Nope, she grew some common sense and left.” Rolling his eyes, Hvitserk scoffed. “Did you know she's the same age as Bjorn?”

“I had a feeling she wasn't your dad's age.” Emmer shrugged. “Every family has their bullshit, what can I say?”

“There is family drama and then there is the Lothbroks. But, enough about my parents. How do you feel, now?” Leaning his head on top of Emmer's; Hvitserk nuzzled his nose into her hair. “And for the record, you're not bat shit crazy.”

“Thank you, I think.” Emmer laughed. “And I'm still a little sore, but feeling better. Really, I'm hungry. Can we eat?”

“Sure, but you're not getting anything solid.”

“Well, ice cream isn't solid. Oh! Let's go get ice cream.”

“Or, you can stay here, in bed while I go get some ice cream and bring it back. What kind do you want? Chocolate?” Hvitserk slowly lifted his head from Emmer's. “I can also bring back some coffee. Iced latte with almond milk and one shot of caramel syrup?”

“Yes! Yes that sounds amazing!”

“Alright, I will go get previsions. You stay in bed and rest. I shouldn't be long. Promise me, you won't try to do anything until I am back?”

“Well, I may shower.” Emmer shrugged, pretending to smell herself. “I stink like hospital, you know how much I hate that.”

“Fair enough, but nothing else. I will do the housework, when I get back. Okay, Em? I don't want you to get hurt or over strain yourself.”

Rolling her eyes, Emmer nodded. “Okay, fine, I will behave. Now go, I want my latte and ice cream.”

“Bossy Britches,” Hvitserk mumbled, grabbing his phone, keys, and wallet.

“Damn right I am!” Emmer called after him, gently tossing a pillow from the couch at his back.

Turning to blow her a kiss, Hvitserk laughed, closing the door behind him. A click indicated that he'd used his key to lock the door, saving Emmer from having to get up and walk twenty feet to the door. Hvitserk was always that way, making sure she was taken care of and he did anything to make her life easier.

Sometimes, it was annoying. Others, it was welcomed. Especially on days when Emmer had no energy. Some days she could barely make it out of bed, those were the days when Hvitserk's overbearing need to cater to her were welcomed the most. He was good at knowing when she needed him to take over, but not so good when knowing he had to back off.

Emmer adored him, but had no problems telling him when to lay off or go away.

In a family of six children, Hvitserk was number 4.

Since an early age, he had been the caretaker. Right after his older, half, sister Gyda. He was constantly taking care of his younger brother Sigurd while his mother focused on his baby brother, Ivar. Gyda kept her brothers from killing one another, while Hvitserk kept Sigurd from somehow killing himself. A task and a half to take on as a five year old. If they wanted Ivar to see his 10th birthday, it was a small price. Twenty years later...

Hvitserk had the ice cream in the car, thankful that the coffee shop wasn't overly busy. Along with their drinks he had gone ahead and ordered brown sugar oatmeal for Emmer and a bacon sandwich for himself. Food in hand, he tapped his foot lightly to the music that softly played through the shop. Lost in his thoughts and tiredness, he jumped when his phone rang.

“Hel-”

“Where are you?” Ivar huffed over the phone.

“I'm getting breakfast and heading back to Emmer's.” Hvitserk smiled his apology to the barista as he accepted the iced latte and the flat white. “Why?”

“You were supposed to drive me to that appointment, this morning. I tried calling you.” Ivar grumbled. Hvitserk didn't have to see Ivar's face to know it was twisted in a scowl. “I had to get an uber.”

“Sorry, fuck. Shit.” He hissed. “Ivar, look I'm sorry. Em had to go to the emergency room. She wasn't well and I had to stay with her.”

“So getting laid, because you played the hero, is more important than family?”

“No, Emmer had an emergency. Listen, I'm sorry. I am. Where are you now? I can come get you, before I go back to Em's.”

“Gyda came to get me. Unlike some people, she cares.”

“I care, Ivar.” Hvitserk defended himself. His younger brother was so dramatic. It came with being the baby. “Tell her I said hi.”

“Fuck you.”

Hvitserk sighed, the line went dead with a beep. Whatever. Ivar would get over it. Eventually.

It wasn't like Hvitserk intentionally forgot about his brother. Had Emmer not needed him, he would have drove Ivar as promised. Ivar was more than capable of getting places on his own, he simply refused.  Unlocking the car, Hvitserk groaned and shook his head. Ivar was petulant, but still his brother.

Whatever, he could worry about that later. Right now, Hvitserk had to deliver ice cream and an iced latte, before Emmer sent out a search party or put a bounty on his head.

@danceyreagan @gearhead66 @supernaturalvikingwhore  @funmadnessandbadassvikings ,  @smutgoblin , @nickysurfer28 , @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @lif3snotouttogetyou, @akamaiden, @laketaj24​ @neeadinghugs, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly, @ilvebeenabad , @naaladareia, @tephi101 , @sdcyumyum  , @imgoldielikehawn , @sparklemichele , @titty-teetee  , @smolasianwinterbean  , @sweetvengeancee , @capitanostella , @ateliefloresdaprimavera , @branflakes82 , @lordavanti , @vvigilantes  , @angelswannawearmyredshooz​ , @kawennote09​ , @bluearchersstuff​ , @lisinfleur​ , @fumblingthroughchaos​ @pebblesz892​ , @angelaiswriting​ , @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995​, @unacceptabletatertots​ @itsspecial-itsnotforeveryone​, @captstefanbrandt​, @writingfromasgard​, @happydaysandersen​, @letowolfie​, @alicedopey​, @beautifulramblingbrains​, @equalstrashflavoredtrash​, @rosepetals-flyingbirds​ , @ivarswickedqueen​, @oqueequesentes-borboletas​, @sodanova​, @groovyzombiellama​, @therealcalicali​, @rekdreams-fandom​ @grungyblonde​, @nevlahhh​ , @natalie-reader​, @ivarlothbroks​, @lol-haha-joke​ , @medievalfangirl​ @fictionbanshee​ @thisisabigmaze​  @ethereallysimple​ @emilie1993​  @mariaenchanted​ 

*I am operating on an old tag list, if you wish to be added/removed, please let me know*

[obscureoperations]

Hey,,I know this is kinda a weird request,,,but could i possibly get Martin with a male s/o whos like,,slowly losing it? Like descending into literal mental chaos,,? Ps I love your blog so much Martin is so underrated 👉👈

Now this is a concept... I shall try my best and also this might be a mood. And thank you so much! Yeh, he most definitely is, thats why its awesome to see so many more people showing him some love. Have a great day fam!

You were the most important person in the world to him, and it was beyond the fact that you would actually listen. It was beyond the fact that the moment he saw you his soul seemed to cry out “Where were you?”Some people have this natural connection, the second you see each other something finally clicks. It felt as though after an eternity of searching, someone finally actually saw you. He first saw you as you entered Cuda’s shop, brushing your bangs out of your eyes, he instantly wanted to dart to the back room. You couldn’t see him, the two of you were not supposed to meet like this. You were the face that he ran towards during his dreams. He tried to avoid you as he moved about the shop, but soon enough it became clear that he noticed you. “Hey’ where's the stationary isle?”  He looked at you like you had grown a second head. “Stationary.. You know… like paper?” “Aisle four…”

After a while you made it to the check out, idle small talk filled the silence. “So you work here permanently now?” “Yes…” he answers. “This is my cousin’s shop” 

 

“That old bat? Is he really your cousin? What are you--like twenty?” 

“I’m eighty four…” 

You instantly seemed to become intrigued. “Okay, I'm about ninety two.. That's what my joints are tellin me anyways--” You laugh as your fingertips reach towards the ceiling, cracking your back with a resounding pop. He eyed you as though you were some sort of alien for a brief moment. Watching as you reach up towards the ceiling, Shirt rising up, exposing the skin of your lower abdomen. “ Look away...” 

The sound of the back door alerts the both of you of Cuda’s presence, Martin quickly begins baging the rest of your items. 

“When do you work next… Martin?” 

“Tomorrow, around noon.”

“Nice, well, I’ll see ya then.” You offer, and with that you were gone, leaving Martin to question what had exactly happened. 

You showed up the next day like clockwork, notebook in hand eagerly flipping through the pages. You toss the open book on the counter, startling Martin out of his reprieve. “Now, look… I don’t want you to get weirded out okay... I literally make sketches of everything.”  Slowly Martin reaches for the notebook, his eyes widen just a bit. It was a picture of a boy.. No it was actually him. He could see the details in the face. His chin was propped up on his hand staring idly off into space. “T--thats me?”  “I had to, you looked so bored yesterday. Hope you don’t mind…”

It was such a simple gesture, but his heart actually ached. He existed in someone’s mind when not around? You were about to tear out the page and give it to him. “No… don’t”  “What?” “I… don’t want to fold it.”  It’s just ink on paper, it’s not gonna smudge .” His eyes linger on the portrait for a bit before briefly shifting towards your hands. He used to fancy the idea that he could draw, but this was a completely different ball game. Fascinating. “I’ll tell ya what, I could drop it by your place if you’d like?” Martin hastily agreed. He told you exactly where he was staying, and instructed you to use the window. There was a large tree in the backyard, just close enough to the window, The branches were large and thick, perfect for latching onto. He used it plenty of times before. “The window? I don’t know what you had in mind, but I was just going to drop off the picture.” Martin opened his mouth to speak before blushing profusely. “I-I didn’t mean…”  “I mean,  geez man, you could at least buy me dinner before you start making plans to sneak me into your room.” Martin glances around anxiously, he could already feel the heated glare from the old man. Luckily for you both Cuda was nowhere to be found, but the fact that he was in the same building left a lingering air of paranoia. You seem to quickly catch on, glancing over your shoulder. “Sorry, I know it’s because of him… I’ll be there at about eight… is that okay?” Martin nods his head, eyes once again lingering on your hands. 

~~~ 

You became a presence in his life and he was unsure of how it happened, the way you easily inserted yourself into his subconscious. He thought about you all the time, when you weren’t around, he would count the hours until he could see you again. In his mind, that might become a problem. What if one day, he just couldn't see you? Surely he would die. The two of you spent countless hours in your room late in the afternoon. He liked to watch you as you would draw, long languid motions, intricate scribbles, hair falling into your eyes. You would brush your bangs out of the way almost as though you were annoyed. His gaze would drift from your long delicate fingers further up your arms.The way the various veins and tendons would become pronounced with every stroke of your hand. Raised lines all varying in color and depth were painted all across your forearms. Some grouped together and extremely faint almost akin to tally marks and others extremely jagged and raised. He often wondered who had done that to you what happened? He would start to become angry as he imagined the details. One thing about Martin was that he was fairly transparent, much like other people… you could tell when he would stare. 

“Your silence is deafening shy boy… whats up.” Martin slowly eases over to your side. You close the notebook regarding him with a curious expression. You watch as his gaze moves to one of your arms. That was it, it took him long enough. Most people would just look at you with disgust. They weren't good at hiding the underlying condescension in their tone when they would offer “You have a good day okay?” Tentatively he raises a hand, only allowing himself to touch you when you don't move away. Long delicate fingers tracing over one of the deeper scars, for some reason your breath hitches in your throat. His touch was so gentle and achilingly precise, his fingertips trailed their way up your arm. He seemed almost fascinated as his eyes moved over each one, the touch of his hand alone causes goosebumps to form over your skin. When his gaze finally meets yours, there's a sort of innocence behind his eyes, you can already hear him asking “what happened?”

“I used to have really bad dreams…” 

“Dreams?”

“About the past… I couldn’t sleep, so I had to go away for a while.”

“Where did you go?”

“Fairmount.. I was there for almost a year.”

“Fairmount?”

“It’s a mental institution… Martin… do you need me to leave?” 

He’s silent for a moment as he chews at his bottom lip.

“They keep telling me that I need to be in a hospital… is it bad?”

“Dunno, I was doped up half the time.”

You watched as his eyes widened, he almost didn't know whether to laugh or if you were serious.

“Dead ass… and it wasn’t even the good stuff.”

The two of you began to talk, really talk. He talked about himself and his sickness. You talked about how even in your drug addled sleep, they would come for you in your dreams. Your neighbor when you were seven and how he ended up taking his own life when he found out your dad was pressing charges.You didn’t end up leaving until sometime after midnight,

~~

For the most part, things had gotten better, now that you weren't on that extreme cocktail of drugs. Your mind was no longer free rental space for them to take up occupancy at any given time. But you could feel their presence, even in the daylight-- somewhere in the corner of your peripherals you could see a shadow. They always moved so awkwardly and disjointed, when you'd glance to the side, it was only a branch. When you would lie in bed at night eyes focused on the ceiling, you could feel the bed shift, a sort of pressure on your chest… “No no no... “ You tried to think of Martin, that sometimes helped. Especially when you would picture his face. “It’ll be alright.. I promise you’ll be alright! They can't actually touch you. You want to scream as you feel them clawing at your skin, tearing off your clothes, holding you down, immobile. The seconds bleed into hours but in reality you were only out for two minutes. Your sheets were soaked with sweat and sometimes urine when you would come to. This had to stop. Fourteen years of your life he’d taken from you… this had to stop somehow.

~~

 Something was off, that much he could tell. Even though you tried your best to keep up your cheery demeanor. One thing you couldn’t hide were the dark circles under your eyes, your fingernails were bitten down to the nubs. You seemed to be running on vapors, he never saw you eat, raiding the fridge was one of the first things you would do when the two of you were alone. Cheery for the most part, but clearly agitated, sometimes you would end up being short with him. You would always quickly apologize, muttering some sort of excuse-- mostly about being tired. You promised yourself it would never happen again-- the one time you completely lost your temper. Martin didn't always stop by your place, you claimed it was too small and dingy. “When I have you over, I want it to be a palace!” Martin would always roll his eyes. You knew he was coming so it was not like you were surprised, you just had to have a quick shower. You emerged from the bathroom to find him flipping through your sketchbook, you were suddenly overwhelmed with a surge of anger. In an instant you snatch the notebook from his hands pinning him to the bed. It was as if your body was moving to its own accord, it was as though someone else’s hands were wrapped around his neck-- not really choking him, but hard enough to render him immoble. He couldn’t see them. You had to keep him safe. He would never know peace if he actually saw their faces.. That's why you drew them, you had to desensitize yourself. They had to know that you weren't afraid. You could almost feel the lockdown on your joints and muscles start to dissipate, and you realise he was speaking. His voice barely a whisper seeing as how your hands were still wrapped around his neck. Oh god-- 

You sit back as if you had just been burned, tears already forming at the corners of your eyes. What had you just done? You hurt him… you’re sick…  “Y/n…” He’s sitting forward now, not the least perturbed, his hands instantly cup your face. The tears were flowing steady now seeping into his palm… You were shaking, why was he still here? You were surprised he didn't bolt away the second you released him. “I-im s-orry.” Your voice was barely a whisper. He nods his head, a stray tear escapes which he quickly brushes away. A sudden rush of air escapes your lungs, though it comes out as more of a choked sob. “I’m s-soo sorry..” Martin quickly leans in pressing his lips to your forehead, holding you close. You cling to his desperately as though he might disappear-- you can feel his presence wrap around you like a warm blanket. The ever present chill momentarily evaporates in his warm embrace. Things had to get better. They absolutely had to. You would never allow yourself to hurt him again.  After a few moments you start to actually relax, as his fingers soothingly run through your hair, cheek pressed against your own now you can hear him whisper “They’re not real.”

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding High Ch2: Hey Sailor

Chapter Summary: Mary is excited for her first riding lesson, and it seems that she’s not the only one…

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. 

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher 

A/N: Again, as you will all know I’m a Brit so apologies if too much British horsey lingo slips into this…ASK away if you don’t understand. Tagging all my SSB/CSI readers…if you want in or off the list PLEASE just tell me. This chapter is a bit of a filler, things start getting a bit more interesting in the next one, and then we’ll be diving into the Gifted story line in Chapter 4. 

Thanks to my beta reader/sounding board @icanfeelastormbrewing​ for her input and her modes of transport kink...

As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT! 

Chapter Song:  Tomorrow  by James

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Mary…” Frank sighed. “Take the boots off and get in bed.” “You told me that Miss Gallagher said I needed to wear them.” she looked at him.

“Yeah, but you can’t wear them in bed…”

Mary flopped onto the side of her bed and reached down to unzip the boots before she kicked them off and Frank picked them up and placed them out of the way. Mary shuffled down under her covers and lay her head back on the pillow. Frank gently smoothed her blonde hair back off her face and smiled at her. Times like this she really did remind him of Diane.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?” “Can I read for a little while?” she asked.

Frank rolled his eyes “Mary…”

“Please!”

“Fine, 15 minutes tops. And I’ll be in to turn the light off, ok?” With a grin she sat up and reached for her latest book- Moby Dick, and he dropped a kiss to her head and left her to it. He made his way into the kitchen, cleared the dishes and then grabbed a beer his attention turning to the table which was had clear, the other half scattered with the parts from one of the engines he had been working on. He knew he really shouldn’t bring this home with him but sometimes it was just easier. 

His phone buzzed and he reached for it, glancing down at the unknown number.

“Hi Mr Adler, just a courtesy message to remind you of Mary’s lesson tomorrow at 1. If you can’t make it please let me know ASAP so I can offer the slot to someone else. Otherwise see you then. Regards, Fliss.” Frank smiled, like he would have chance to forget. Mary had talked of nothing else since Saturday. His fingers hovered over the reply button, before he dropped the phone back down. He didn’t need to reply…did he? I mean…

Oh fuck it. He picked the phone back up and tapped in a quick response.

“Frank, please. And like I’d have chance to forget. She’s been like a broken record since Wednesday. I had to pry her boots off tonight as she was threatening to wear them in bed…”

Setting the phone down he headed back through to check on Mary, her 15 minutes was over. He found her fast asleep, book clutched to her chest. Gently taking it from her, he slipped the bookmark into the page and turned off the lights, making sure she was tucked in. When he moved back into the main part of the trailer he had a reply.

“Brilliant! That’s what I like to hear. Get used to it, you’re going to hear about nothing but horses now for the rest of your life.” “Great, I can’t wait…” he added a rolling eye emoji at the end and set down, gathering a few pieces of the engine, setting to work. About 5 minutes passed and his phone went again.

“You know I offer starter lessons for adults too, maybe you should try it, see if you understand what the fuss is all about.” “No thanks, my feet stay firmly on the ground. Unless I’m on a boat.” “A boat? I didn’t have you pegged as a sailor?” At that Frank let out a bark of a laugh. 

“I’m not, not really. I fix them. And besides, you don’t sail speedboats.” “What do you do then?” 

“I suppose you drive them.”

“Do you drive them on water?” “Dur.” “That’s called Sailing.”

His work abandoned he took a pull from his beer bottle and shook his head, smile tugging at his lips as he replied.

“But they don’t have sails…” “It’s a boat. It goes on water. It’s called Sailing.” “Alright, I bow to your superior knowledge…” “Glad we agree…even if I do detect a serious underlying tone of sarcasm in your message. See you tomorrow Sailor.” He laughed again, shaking his head. He tapped in a goodnight and placed the phone down, turning his attention to his work.

*****

“What are you grinning about?” Bill Gallagher turned his attention to his daughter as they walked across the field, Thor and his own dog, Rupert, hurtling ahead in front of them, their flashing collars keeping them located in the twilight. 

“Oh, nothing, just winding someone up.” she smiled “One of the dad’s from tomorrow’s lesson, trying to convince me you drive, not sail, a speedboat.” “Hmmm…well they don’t have sails.” Bill mused.

“Whatever, they go on water, they sail.” Fliss said, slipping her phone back into her pocket as Frank’s ‘Goodnight’ rounded off their conversation.

“So, who is he then?” Bill asked. 

“Oh, his name’s Frank.” Fliss said, nonchalantly, but her dad didn’t miss the flicker of a smile that hit her mouth.

“Is he the one that your mum said was eyeing you up in the bar?” “He was not eyeing me up.” Fliss groaned “He was just being friendly.” “Sure he was.” “Dad…” she warned him, nudging him with her elbow.

“What?” “You know what!” she laughed “Stop it.” “Alright…” he smiled, holding his hands up “I yield…it’s just nice to see you happy, that’s all.” “Well, I am.” she said after a moment, and she meant it “The last 6 months…the riding school has taken off, I’m feeling more…well, myself than I have in years. Just need to find an apartment now.” “Well, on that…” Bill said. “Me and your mum have been thinking. We thought, maybe, you might want to move into the annex. We can do it up, gives you your own space…”

Fliss paused and looked at her dad. “That’s where Steeby stays though, when he comes out with Sian and the kids…” “There’s plenty of room in the house.” Bill shrugged “And they come like what, 4 times a year? It’s stood empty the rest of the time.” Fliss bit her lip.

“It’s just an idea and your brother won’t mind. Look, I know it’s probably not what you had in mind, living in your parent’s annex but for the time being until the Yard starts to turn over more of a profit we just thought it might give you a little bit more freedom.” “Whilst still staying close.” she said, looking at him. Bill shrugged.

“I want to keep you safe Titch.” he shrugged “I didn’t do that before but…” “Dad don’t.” she said, shaking her head “None of that, it wasn’t your fault. I hid from everyone what was happening…you didn’t know.”

“I should have.” he sighed “You’re my daughter.” “He had everyone fooled, including me.” she shrugged “This is no one’s fault but his, I get that now.” Bill smiled and pulled her into a hug. “I know.”

“We should head back.” Fliss said “Mum will be wondering where we are.”

“You have anything to finish off?” he asked 

“Nope, everything is out for the night and looks reasonably settled.” she said, squinting at the various horses dotted across her land.

“Hmmm, unlike this fencing…” Bill said, looking at the broken bit of post and rail that Fliss had patched up with electric tape “This could do with replacing, love.” “Yeah, I know.” she said “I was going to mention it but forgot. The temporary fix has worked for the time being.” “I’ll stop by and do it tomorrow.” he said, “Won’t take me long. I’ll level that top field as well whilst I’m at it if you want.” “Thanks Dad” she smiled. In comfortable silence they made their way back towards the main part of the yard.

*******

Fliss grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge in her office and took a long drink. The heat was pretty intense today, and she was just wondering if really holding Mary’s lesson as advisable when she realised it wasn’t like they’d be doing anything too strenuous. She adjusted her baseball cap and head back onto the yard, shouting instructions to the 3 members of staff to go and take a water break. Just as they were passing her towards the office, she saw Frank and Mary walking onto the yard. Mary was sporting a new riding hat and Fliss couldn’t help but smile.

“Well check you out!” she said, tapping the little girl on the head “Nice hat.” “I liked the silver on it!” she grinned, pointing to the sparkly strip that ran along the front.

“Me too…” Fliss nodded. “I have the same hat but mine has blue sparkles.” she straightened up and looked at Frank. “Hey Sailor.” He gave a snort of a laugh “I told you, you don’t sail speedboats.” “They go on water.” Mary said, “Its’ sailing.” “Ha, see!” Fliss laughed 

Frank sighed “Whatever.” The corners of his mouth turned up and he handed Fliss the forms he had brought back.

“Oh great…” she thanked him “I’ll just file these and then Ruby will get Monty ready. I thought you might like to help her.” Mary nodded eagerly. Fliss excused herself and Frank heard her shouting something and a moment later a tall, wiry Hispanic girl emerged from the office with a saddle. Fliss followed, bridle slung over her shoulder and gestured for Mary to follow. Frank watched as the girl skipped off following and headed after her at a slower pace, rubbing at his neck which felt like it was burning. He’d slathered Mary in sunscreen before but of course had forgotten his own.

He stepped into the relative cool of the barn and watched as the stable hand was explaining to Mary what each piece of tack was as she began to place it onto the pony. He knew Mary would be taking all of this in, just like she did with everything, and Roberta would be hearing all about it later on.

Fliss handed over the bridle and stepped back, heading towards Frank. “I normally do have the ponies ready” she said, almost apologetically “But I thought she’d enjoy this bit.” “You thought right.” Frank laughed “I was just thinking to myself she’ll be chewing our neighbour’s ear off later.”

Fliss smiled and they both stood in silence watching until the other girl said they were ready. 

“Alright, let’s go!” Fliss grinned and they walked out into the yard. She took the pony from her staff member with a thanks, and walked with Mary following into the riding paddock. Frank leaned on the fencing outside as Fliss led Mary and Monty over to the wooden mounting block at the side.

“Ok, so…” she turned to Mary and patted the top step “Climb up here…” Mary hopped up.

“Left foot in this stirrup…” she instructed. Mary placed her foot in. “Left hand here…” she guided it to the front of the saddle “And then I want you to swing your right leg over.” Mary did as she was told, sitting down on the saddle. 

“Good stuff kiddo!” Fliss smiled as she checked the stirrups “Ok, so we need to put these up a hole so…” 

She busied herself shortening the stirrup leathers, and eventually when she was happy she nodded.

“So, what we’re gonna do for today is a bit of walking around, and stopping, and then if you’re happy with your balance we can try a bit of trot ok?” Mary grinned.

“Right…so take your reins…” Fliss showed her how to hold the reins correctly, and then she slipped the lunge line through the ponies bit and looked at the girl. “If you feel wobbly or anything you grab this…” she said, gesturing to the leather strap around the pony’s neck. “And shout to me ok?”

Mary nodded. 

Fliss began to walk besides the pony who followed her like a dog. Mary all the time concentrating on what she was doing. Fliss explained to her how her legs made the animal go, and how to make it stop, and they practiced that for 5 minutes before Fliss moved slightly further away to let Mary take a bit of control, instructing her to go, then stop, go, then stop…

Frank watched intently. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly nervous about her falling off but he knew that he had to let her discover all this for herself. He leaned further over on the fence, watching and couldn’t help but smile at the look on Mary’s face, she was concentrating so hard her brow was furrowed, tongue poking out from the side of her mouth.

“Your kid?” a deep voice with a similar accent to Fliss said and he turned to his right to see a tall, stocky guy in his late 50s, early 60s maybe dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans looking at him.

“Niece.” he said, “First lesson.” “Ahh...” the man chuckled “Yeah I remember Fliss’ first lesson. I crapped myself.” Frank let out a laugh “Yeah, I’m a little nervous.” “Bill.” The man stuck his hand out “Fliss’ dad.” “Nice to meet you, I’m Frank.” Bill looked at him, nodding before his attention turned to the paddock “Hey, Titch, sorry to interrupt…” Fliss stopped the pony and turned to her dad “Hey…” “Fencing is done but I can’t get that bloody tractor started…so the field’s gonna have to wait.” “I can look at it.” Frank offered immediately “I mean, if you want…” Bill turned to him, “You a mechanic?” “No he’s a sailor…” Fliss shot back and Frank rolled his eyes.

“I fix boats. Engines…that type of thing.” “Huh.” Bill said “Well if you wouldn’t mind…” “Not a problem. Mary you ok here if I go for a minute?” Mary looked at him “Dur.” Bill let out a chuckle as Frank turned to him “Tell me raising them gets easier.” “Oh no mate.” Bill shook his head, grinning “You just get different shit to deal with.” Frank followed the man round to the back of the barn and spotted a dark green baby tractor. Bill explained what it was doing and Frank crouched closer to have a look before he headed to his truck for the jump leads.

After 10 minutes or so he’d found the problem. They could start it, but it wasn’t holding any charge. Meaning when the turned the engine off it needed jump starting again.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the alternator.” he said, stepping back “I’ll need to strip it down to see whether I can repair it or if it needs a new one but…we can get it started again you can do what you need to do for today.”

Bill nodded “So not quite ready for the scrap heap?” “Not quite.” Frank smiled, wiping his hands on his dirty jeans “Just needs a bit of a fiddle with.” “Don’t we all?” Bill quipped, making Frank laugh. They jump started it again and Bill thanked him before hopping on and heading over to the gate that led to the field.

By the time Frank returned, he was surprised to see that Mary was now riding the horse almost unaided in a circle around Fliss who was holding the end of the line attached to the pony’s bridle as it trotted around. Mary was gripping the strap round the pony’s neck and trying to rise in time to the trot. It was clumsy and she was a little bit out of balance but that didn’t matter. He could hear Fliss shouting gentle encouragement to her, counting out the rhythm and eventually Mary fell in time with her counts. 

“Good!” Fliss beamed “see, I told you you’d get it…” This continued for another 5 minutes or so before Fliss told Mary to slow Monty down to a walk and give him a good pat. They walked the pony around for a while, to give him chance to cool down a little before Fliss walked towards Mary gathering up the line as she went.

“That was awesome for a first go!” she said, smiling “Did you enjoy it?”

Mary nodded “Yeah, it was really cool!”

“Good!” Fliss said. “Now I’m gonna unclip the line and walk around for a bit. He’ll follow me but when I stop I want you to stop him yeah?”

Mary nodded eagerly and she unclipped the line and began to walk. Fliss knew Monty would stop when she did but she wanted to let Mary have a go anyway. They did a lap of the paddock and on the second she stopped by Frank.

“Look, Frank!” Mary smiled “I’m not on the line.” “Yeah, I see!” he smiled at her “Good job!”

“How’s my tractor?” Fliss asked.

“Think it’s the alternator. We got it started for your dad but I’ll need to strip it down properly…I can come back tomorrow with my tools if you want?” “Oh, I don’t wanna put you out…” Fliss started to protest but Frank shook his head

“It’s no bother, honestly.” he said, running his hand through his hair. “I can’t promise I can fix it but I’ll be able to see if I can or if you need a new one.” Fliss looked at him and then nodded “Alright, but in that case today is free.” “No, that’s not why I offered…” Frank began to protest but Fliss shook her head

“I know.” she said “But I’d like to.” Frank looked at her for a moment, her brown eyes locked onto his and he swallowed, nodding. “Ok, thanks.” “Wait am I coming back tomorrow?” Mary asked

“I’m booked up, sorry sweetie.” Fliss looked at her “But you’re welcome to come anyway, that is if Frank says its ok.” “We’ll see. “Frank looked at Mary.

“I can put her to work.” Fliss said, grinning “Nothing like a bit of child labour.” “That’s illegal.” Mary said.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Fliss looked at her and Frank gave a chuckle.

They made their way out of the paddock and Fliss showed Mary how to swing her leg back round the saddle and slide down. She landed on her feet and took the reins from Fliss’ hand, leading the pony back to his stable. She helped untack and then Fliss handed her the bridle to carry. They walked into the office and Fliss tapped a code into the door to the left and led them into a tidy tack room, rows of saddles and racks adorned the wall along with bridle pegs and a few shelves full of rugs and blankets for the horses. Fliss slipped the saddle onto a spare rack and then directed Mary to Monty’s bridle peg. Frank took the bridle from her as the peg was a little high and hooked it over.

“Now, you need a drink.” Fliss looked at Mary “I got water or some apple juice….”

“Apple please…”  Mary said. Fliss nodded and headed back into the office, giving her a juice box from the fridge “Frank?” “Oh, errr, water would be great thanks.” She handed him a bottle and he screwed off the tap.

“So, do you want to book in again now or do it tomorrow?” Fliss looked at him. “I think she’ll cope on the group lesson fine.” “So when do they run?”  he asked, swallowing his water.

“Saturday afternoons at 2.” Fliss said. “Or Wednesday at 6.” “Can we come Saturday?” Mary asked.

Frank hesitated “I did say you couldn’t do this every week…” “Yeah but you didn’t pay for today.” Mary shot back.

Jesus Chris Mary…

He glanced up at Fliss who was biting her lip, trying not to laugh.

“Fine, you can come this Saturday but then that’s it, we go to every other week like we agreed ok?” Mary nodded.

“Settled, I’ll book you in.” Fliss grinned. “If you get here about quarter to I’ll introduce you to the other girls before you join.” Mary frowned a little, before she recovered and nodded. “Ok.” “So do you like work here every day?” Frank asked. Fliss nodded

“Mostly. If I want a day off then I get Joanne to cover the lessons and the girls can open and close up.” she said “But it’s few and far between. Like I said, still in the early days so…”

Frank nodded “Yeah I know what it’s like, trying to get yourself established.” “I take it you’re a self-employed sailor then?” Fliss smiled and he gave a grin back and nodded. 

“He takes me for rides.” Mary said “In the boats sometimes.” “That’s really cool. I’ve never been on speedboat.” Fliss said.

“You should come with us one day, right Frank?”

Frank hesitated a little, surprised to find that he wasn’t filled with dread at the idea of her joining them. 

“I’m sure Fliss has enough to be doing without you demanding more of her time.” he shot the girl a look, his tone even.

“Yeah, I’m very busy.” Fliss smiled, offering him a way out. He shot her a thankful look.

“We can do it when you’re free…” “Mary!” Frank’s tone was exasperated as Fliss laughed.

“Maybe one day.” she said, nodding.

This placated the girl somewhat and she bounced off towards the truck.

“Sorry.” Frank turned to Fliss “She can be a little bit…” “Tenacious?” “I was gonna say pain in the ass.” Frank said, causing Fliss to laugh, her soft chuckles made him feel a little warm, or maybe it was the afternoon heat…

“She’s a good kid.” Fliss said gently.

Frank smiled and then jerked his head in the direction of the car park “I better…” “Sure.”

“I’ll drop you a message about tomorrow?” Fliss nodded “Yeah, but don’t put yourself out.” “Well I owe you now for the lesson so…” he shrugged “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Yeah, guess you will.” Fliss smiled. There was a pause again and Frank nodded, before he turned and headed after Mary. He turned to look over his shoulder at Fliss who was now walking back towards her office before he wandered onto the car park to find Mary was now chewing Bill’s ear off.

“For the love of God…” he mumbled as he drew nearer to find her mid discussion with the man about the Olympics.

“Did you go?” she was asking.

“You bet!” Bill smiled “I’ll tell you something else as well…” “What?” “Those fences are even bigger in real life than they look on the photos.” ��It said on the internet she jumped 1 meter 30…” 

“The internet?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, we googled her…” Frank groaned “Mary…” “What?” she looked at him. “I was just saying…” “Well don’t…” he said, “Truck, now…”

“It was nice to meet you Mary.” Bill said as the little girl bid him goodbye.

“Sorry…” Frank apologised to him. 

“Don’t be silly.” Bill waved his apology off “She wasn’t doing any harm.”

“I meant about the google thing.” Frank sighed “we weren’t prying, she was just curious after seeing the medal and…” Bill shook his head “Kids are nosey.” he shrugged. 

With another nod he climbed in the truck and turned to Mary with a sigh “What did I say to you about not telling Miss Gallagher we googled her?” “I didn’t.” Mary said “I told her dad.”

There was a pause as Frank contemplated what she had said, and realised technically she was right. He should have closed that particular loop hole. “Smart ass.” he grumbled back, before he clipped in her belt and they left.

*****

Fliss was surprised to see Mary wasn’t with Frank the next day. Frank explained he had come straight from the boat yard so she was busy doing some lesson work with their neighbour. “Gives me chance to work without her continually running around causing a nuisance.” he had explained, setting his tools down by the tractor. 

Fliss chuckled, “Ok, well, I got another client due in a second so just give me a shout if you need anything…” He nodded. It didn’t take him long to realise he had been right. It was the alternator. He took the engine apart and was leaning over it on the flat bed of his truck when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to look at Fliss.

“It is the alternator, but it looks like it’s the brushes inside.” he said, “I can fix this…” She nodded, the movement almost imperceptible, and he frowned at the look on her face. She glazed over in front of him, eyes were widened, almost like she was stuck in a memory.

And she was. Something about the fact he’d been leaning over the back of a truck, his grubby t-shirt riding up slightly, dirt on his hands and arms had stirred a really inappropriate thought in her head…which in turn had triggered another flashback.

“He was fixing the car.” Fliss looked at John “I offered him a drink, that’s all…” “He was in our kitchen.” John advanced “I saw you looking at him. Admiring him…” “I wasn’t…”

“Don’t LIE TO ME…” John’s voice as loud and then there was a stinging slap to the side of her face, which sent her reeling. As she recovered, the ringing in her ear still loud from the blow, she gently reached up to her cheek, tears stinging her eyes. John’s face was immediately apologetic, and he reached out for her, causing her to shrink back against the counter.

“You hit me…” she gasped.

“Sugar, I’m so sorry…” John said, his eyes filing with tears “I didn’t…you just made me so jealous…I…” He held his arms out and pulled her to him, his hands on her back as he dropped a kiss to her head “I will never do that again, I’m sorry…” “Fliss?” 

She started slightly and looked at Frank. “Yeah, sorry, I was…” “Miles away?” he frowned.

“Something like that.” she nodded, shaking her head “Sorry, you said you could fix it?”

“Yeah.” he said “I can take it with me and then I can bring it back Saturday unless you need it before that?”

“No, Saturday’s fine.” she said gently.

“Look, I don’t mean to pry but are you sure you’re ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” she said quickly. “Look, I gotta get on and…” “Sure.” he nodded, “I should be going anyway…” She smiled at him, and turned and headed back to the yard.

“You clearly triggered something.” Roberta said to him wisely as they both sat in his living room later that evening. He’d just finished telling her about the afternoon. “Some kind of memory.”

Frank hmmed his response. “Question is why are you so bothered?” Roberta asked.

“I’m not, I just…well it wasn’t nice seeing. She looked so scared.” “Well you said her husband was sent down for assaulting her…” Roberta shrugged “She’s clearly had a lot of trauma. Maybe she just needs a friend.” “Yeah, maybe.”

“Could be good for both of you.” “I know what you’re doing.” Frank looked at her sternly 

“I’m not trying to do anything!” Roberta chuckled.

“Course you’re not.” he rolled his eyes before he changed the subject. 

It wasn’t until he was alone later, that he pulled his phone out to text Fliss. He’d typed out his message, just a perfectly innocent one to check she was ok before he deleted it, shaking his head. 

Whatever it was, it really was none of his business. He had enough of his own past demons to live with as it was.

But the more he lay there the more it wound him up.

“Fucks sake…” he grumbled, before he retyped the message and sent it.

*******

Fliss was curled up on the sofa watching TV with a glass of wine. Her parents were out for the evening so she was making the most of enjoying the space. Her phone went and she leaned over to grab it from the coffee table, unable to stop smiling as she saw who it was from.

“Hey, just wanted to check you were ok after before. I hope I didn’t do anything or say anything that upset or scared you.” The last line made her heart sink. He clearly knew about her past. Her dad had mentioned something about them googling her, and the case had been fairly big news amongst the equestrian circuit so she knew that the story was out there to read. Well, most of it was anyway. She rubbed at her eyes, thinking of how to respond. She hated that even after almost a year of him being out of her life John was till effectively a shadow from which she couldn’t seem to emerge.

“It’s not your fault. I get flashbacks sometimes, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well the past has a way of doing that. Trust me, I know.”

Fliss smiled gently as she tapped out her response.

“Yeah, what is it Rafiki says on the Lion King? You can either run from your past or learn from it?”

Little over 30 seconds later he responded.

“Sound advice from a cartoon monkey…not always that easy in real life. If you ever want a non-judgmental ear to talk to, I’m a pretty good listener if you fancy a beer and a chat. Just as friends.” There was just something about this man, something that Fliss couldn’t help but warm to. She wasn’t stupid, the girls at the yard had told her a bit about him, his reputation amongst the ladies…he was a bit of a player from all accounts, but there was something there, something buried deeper, she could just tell. And what’s more, for the first time in years, she felt like she could trust another person other than her family.

It was for that reason she found it so easy to almost, sort of, maybe, possibly accept his invitation.

“I might just hold you to that Sailor.” 

 @the-omni-princess​​  @momobaby227​​ @geekofmanythings16​​ @angelofhell-666​​ @thewackywriter​​ @marvelfansworld​​​  @cobalt-gear​​  @asgardlover75​​ @jennmurawski13​​​​  @jtargaryen18​​​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​​  @navispalace​​​ @patzammit​​​  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​​​ ​​ @djeniiscorner​​​  @ayamenimthiriel​​​  @coldmuffinbanditshoe​​​  @disneylovingal​​​ @madzmilllz​​  @sgtjaamesbaarnes​​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​​  @southerngracela​ @goldenfightergir​ @kellymat​ @official-and-unstable-satan​

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Promises Not Kept Part 35

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 35: It’s Christmas time but Tommy can’t put on a happy face for the holidays.

        “’N then Santa comes ‘n he brings presents. He’s gotta car that flies ‘cause it’s got horses.”

           “It’s not a car and they aren’t horses.” Charlie corrected his sister from his spot on the couch. He was reading a picture book as Johanna sat on the floor with Molly. The infant had just learned to sit up on her own and was enjoying the new view of the world. Her bright eyes fixed on the glowing fire and the way the flames reflected off the ornaments on the tree. Gold and silver baubles hung perfectly by her siblings and mother. Molly was also getting a hang of her motor skills. It was unfortunate for anyone with hair because she appeared to like tugging on anything she could get near.

           “Ya-huh they’re horses.” Johanna frowned at her brother.

           “Horses don’t fly.”

           That seemed to throw the little girl for a loop. True, she’d never seen a horse fly before.

           Charlie turned the book around to show her a picture of Santa on his sleigh. “Horses don’t have horns.”

           Johanna studied the picture. “Then what are they?”

           “Mum, what’s that word?”

           Leah paused from fixing the stockings on the mantle and glanced at the word. “Reindeer. They guide Santa’s sleigh.” She explained.

           “Rain-deer.” Johanna sounded the word out with a furrowed brow. “So, Santa’s got Rain-deers ‘n he comes to every one's house and gives ‘em presents. But you hafta to be good.”

           Molly yawned and leaned forward to try and grab her sister’s skirt.

           Tommy walked into the room and smiled. “Who wants to help?” He held up the plate of cookies and carrots.

           “Me, me, me!” Johanna jumped up.

           “You too, Charles, c’mon.” Tommy walked over to the fireplace with them. “Put these out for Santa and the reindeer.”

           Johanna carefully placed the plate down by the hearth. “Why does Santa like cookies?”

           “And whiskey?” Charlie set the crystal glass by the plate.

           “Because Santa has good taste.” Tommy picked up Molly and kissed her cheek.

           Leah laughed softly. “I think it’s getting late. Santa’ll be here very soon.”

           “And he can’t come ‘till you’re all asleep.” Tommy reminded them.

           “Why?” Johanna tugged on her father’s pant leg.

           “Because he’s shy.” He made up on the spot and touched her shoulder. “Go upstairs with brother and start getting ready.” Charlie hopped down from the couch and chased his sister upstairs.

           Leah smiled and went to kiss Tommy on the cheek. They were walking on shaky ground but they were still standing. That’s all that mattered in that moment. The next day the Shelby-Gray family would arrive to celebrate with them and meet Molly for the first time. It was almost good that they came back on the holidays. The high-spirits seemed to ease the transition back into Arrow House.

           “I’m going to have Frances bring out the presents in an hour,” Tommy said. “They should be asleep by then.”

           “I don’t think they’ll sleep much. Johanna was telling me how excited she was.” Leah bent down to pick up one of the cookies the kids left behind. She handed Tommy his whiskey as well.

           “I’m glad to be home,” Tommy said. “Back home with you and them.”

           Molly began to nod off in his arms, resting her cheek on his shoulder, her eyes sliding closed.

           “For a moment I thought you’d never want to come back to me.” He admitted. “I thought I’d have to stay in Boston.”

           Although it may have been morbid, Leah was curious. “What if I didn’t want you back?” She wondered. “Would you have left without me?”

           “No.” He shook his head. “I’d just move Shelby Company Limited headquarters to Boston. Even if you didn’t want me anymore, I wouldn’t be able to leave you and the children behind. Told myself I weren’t coming back here without me family.”

           Leah bit her lip and touched his cheek. “It was hard for the both of us.” Even though time had passed, she wouldn’t apologize for the move to America. Perhaps there was a more tactful way about it but she wouldn’t apologize for her mother’s instinct. “I’m glad we’re all together now too. And we don’t have to worry about anything right now.”

           Tommy smiled. “Alright, Mrs. Shelby, got to get you to bed or Santa’s not going to bring you gifts.” He teased and swept her up off her feet to carry her upstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~

           The next morning, the children tore into the pile of gifts. Cyril picking up the wrapping paper and toting it around. Tommy watched from the sofa with a smile on his face. As far as he’d climbed, sometimes he forgot why he did it. There were various reasons, sure, but one of the reasons was he wanted a better life for his kids. Every Christmas they would wake up to as many presents as they could ever imagine.        

           As a child, he didn’t expect presents. He wanted Charlie, Johanna, and Molly to expect to be taken care of because they always would be. They would be taken care of even long after Tommy was gone.

           Later on, they hosted dinner in the evening for the Shelby-Gray family. A little bit before everyone arrived, Tommy realized what a massive mistake he was making. It hit him like a massive brick to the stomach. The mystery hadn’t been solved yet of who sold out his assassination plan. As far as Tommy was concerned the only person who was off the hook was Leah.

           Now he was inviting the suspects into his house for the holidays.

           Anxiety began to creep up on him as the time came. Polly arrived first with Michael and Gina. Along with them was Polly’s first grandchild all bundled up.

           “Auntie Pol!” Johanna squealed happily and ran to the door.

           “There she is, look how big you’ve gotten!” Polly exclaimed and scooped her up. “So beautiful, you look just like your father.”

           “I got a pony for Christmas!”

           “Really?”

           “A rocking-horse.” Leah corrected quickly. “We’re not ready for a real one yet.” She smiled.

           Tommy stood back, eyeing his cousin as he entered and introduced his son to Leah and the kids. There was no level of trust in the foyer between them. At least on Tommy’s end. He noticed Gina side-eye him and his senses heightened. Immediately he noticed the purse on her side and how close she was standing to his son.

           “Where’s the little one?” Polly asked.

           “Oh, I was just nursing, she’s sleeping upstairs.” Leah offered to let her upstairs.

           “I’ll get her.” Tommy moved toward the stairs, blocking their way.

           “If she’s sleeping, I’ll just peek in.” His aunt shook her head.

           “She’ll be up soon enough.” Tommy didn’t want anyone alone with the children. There was no way.

           Polly and Leah exchanged a look but let him go upstairs to fetch Molly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Everyone else arrived and Tommy’s nerves only got more and more frayed. All the little children were running around together. The little babies were being passed around from person to person to be held. Ada’s daughter, Gina’s son, and Molly never being set down for a moment.

           It was anxiety-inducing to Tommy because he wanted to keep track of his children just in case he had a black cat in his home. But eventually, Molly was being held out of his view and Charlie and Johanna had gone upstairs to show Karl and Billy their new toys.

           Panicked, Tommy found Leah talking to Ada. “Where are the kids?”

           “They’re playing.” She replied. “Why?”

           “Where?” He demanded.

           Ada looked alarmed at her brother’s frantic nature. “Tom, have a drink, you look tired.”

           Ignoring his sister, he looked over Leah’s shoulder to see who else was absent. Who might’ve taken his children? Who might have them hostage with a gun to their head?

           He began to hyperventilate. He pushed past Ada and began searching through the rooms. “Charles?” Haunting flashbacks hit him fast. Searching frantically through the orphanage, ripping at the locked doors, nearly passing out when he realized his son was kidnapped.

           “Tommy!” Leah left Ada’s side and ran to follow him.

           “Charles!” He hurried upstairs and nearly ran right into his son in the hallway. He was pretending to fly around the toy airplanes he’d gotten with Karl.

           “Dad?” The young boy skidded to a halt. “What?”

           Tommy dropped to his knees and pulled Charlie in his arms.

           Leah got to the landing and paused. “Tom?”

           “Dad, stop.” Charlie protested and tried to wriggle out of his arms. He didn’t want to look coddled in front of his older cousin.

           “Tom, c’mon.” Leah helped her husband up, coaxing him to let go of Charlie. “Come talk to me.”

           “Is Johanna up here?”

           “Hi, daddy.” Johanna came out of her bedroom with Billy.

           “They’re fine, Tommy, come talk to me.” Leah linked arms with him and brought him down the hallway to their bedroom. “Go back to playing, dinner’ll be out soon.” She said to the kids. They looked confused but nodded and went back into Johanna’s room.

~~~~~~~~~~

          Tommy was practically hysterical. He couldn’t stand still even as Leah tried to get him to sit down on the bed and take a breath.

           “Someone’s gonna take him. They’ll take him like they took him before. Like they took you. They’ll take the girls too.” His speech was unlike Leah had ever heard before. Far from the even-toned man with a deep voice. She had seen him break down but never before did he show his vulnerability through his voice. It was like his last line of defenses were crumbling down.

           “Tommy, please, you’re scaring me.” She grabbed him by the arms and tried to steady him.

           “What do I have to do to protect my family?” His voice rose in volume.

           “The kids are just down the hall, please just try to stay calm.” She pulled him toward the bed but he resisted her.

           “It shouldn’t be this fucking difficult!” He shouted.

           Tears began to spill from Leah’s eyes. Perhaps they were too naïve to think things would remain so calm. She wished she had managed to keep Tommy happy. Happy enough that he wouldn’t have had to go after Mosley. But she paused halfway through the thought.

           “I told you…” She whispered tearfully. “I told you things could be okay if you just stayed home. You didn’t have to go into Parliament. You didn’t have to do everything you did. The kids and I were enough for you, Tommy, why couldn’t you realize that?” She whimpered.

           He stilled long enough to look at her. “Leah…”

           “Maybe the reason someone betrayed you was because you keep pushing everyone away.” She continued.

           “You’re fucking blaming this on me?” He demanded.

           “I’m blaming this on the man who came back from the War and decided he was going to rule Birmingham. I’m blaming the man who decided Birmingham wasn’t enough. I’m blaming the man who wanted to rule London, then Parliament, and now the whole fucking country it seems! I’m blaming the man who won’t step away from a fight because his pride is too big. Too big he can’t even see the people who would take a bullet for him.”

           “Well, that’s who I am,” Tommy replied after a long pause.

           “No, it’s who you want people to think you are. But you’re so much more, Tommy. You’ve always been so much more.”

           He didn’t respond to her. Instead, he rubbed his eyes wearily and held back tears.

           “You need someone to talk to. Someone other than me.”

           “Not going to a fucking doctor.” He muttered back to her.

           “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” Leah would’ve liked to get Tommy some professional help, but she was afraid what the consequences might be if she did. “I’d like to go back to Margate with the children.”

           Tommy lifted his head with a frown. “I ain’t talking to Alfie.”

           “Well, I don’t think he’ll give you much of an option.” She smiled faintly and kissed his forehead. “Please.” She whispered against his skin. “Please just give me this.”

           Closing his eyes, Tommy lifted a hand to the nape of her neck and held her close. “Okay.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           “Mr. Alfie!” Johanna shrieked happily as she burst out of the car to meet the man at the door.  

           “Hello Joey, lookit you, grown much bigger, haven’t ya?” Alfie chuckled and scooped her up. “Oof, can barely carry you anymore!” He exclaimed.

           Charlie and Cyril ran to greet Alfie as well.

           “I lost a tooth!” Johanna bared her teeth to show him.

           “So, you did. That’s impressive, mighty impressive. And how ‘bout you Charles? Keeping good care of Cyril?”

           “Yeah, look he learned to shake my hand!” Charlie said proudly. He demonstrated the trick, having the bullmastiff sit. He held out his hand so Cyril would place his massive paw in it.

           “Wouldya look at that.” Alfie chortled. “’Fore you know it he’ll be up walking ‘round like a human.”

           Charlie and Johanna laughed at the idea of Cyril prancing around on his hind legs.

           Tommy brought out their luggage with Leah in tow. Molly was asleep in her arms.

           “And here’s the newest Shelby. What’s the name then?” Alfie asked, setting down Johanna so she and Charlie could run inside.

           “Molly Shelby.” Leah smiled.

           “Molly Shelby, very nice.” Alfie turned to Tommy. “How’ve you been, Tom?”

           The man wasn’t in the right mindset to even try and be cordial to his former business partner-friend-enemy-whatever the hell Alfie Solomons decided to be. “I think you know.”

           “Right, right, you had a bit of trouble tryna kill that fascist, didn’t you?” Alfie cocked his head to the side with a bit of a simpering look.

           Tommy gritted his teeth and felt like strangling the man. But Leah stepped between them. “I’m a bit hungry, Alfie could I make something in the kitchen?”

           “Hm? Oh yes, of course, love, go on ahead.” Alfie crossed his arms over his chest and waited for a beat after Leah went inside. “So, think you’d like to talk?”

           “I have a feeling you won’t leave me the fuck alone if I say no,” Tommy muttered.

           “Want to go down to the beach or are you going to shoot me again and blind me other eye?”

           “Just fuck off, Alfie.” Tommy snapped and began to walk down the bluff to the beach.

           Johanna wanted to go down to the beach but Leah said they needed to eat lunch first. So, she went to make lunch with Alfie’s maid while Molly slept in her bassinet and the other two children explored the sitting room.

           Their mother told them not to touch any of Alfie’s belongings. Out of respect but also she didn’t know exactly what sort of things the man had in his collection of oddities. Still, the little treasures collecting dust on the cabinets were too interesting to keep from looking at.

           Charlie climbed up on the fainting couch to view a miniature ship in a bottle. Johanna went out to the balcony and peered down to see her father and Alfie speaking to one another. Yet the ocean waves were too loud and they were too far away for her to hear what they were saying. She turned and went back into the room.

           “Charlie?”

           “What?”

           “Why was daddy upset on Christmas?” She climbed up onto Alfie’s big armchair. “He seemed sad.”

           Charlie glanced over at his sister. “I don’t know.”

           “But he was hugging you.” Johanna reached over to a cabinet and picked up what looked like a shark’s tooth.

           “Put that down.” Charlie scolded and grabbed her wrist. “Mum told us not to touch anything.”

           “What is it?” She reluctantly dropped the object.

           “I don’t know.”

           “Where’d it come from?”

           “I don’t know!” Charlie replied in exasperation. “How should I fucking know?”

           Johanna’s eyes widened and she gasped. “Tha’s a naughty word!”        

           Charlie realized his mistake. The boy had been raised around the word being dropped frequently. Although everyone told him not to say it or other words that were thrown around like ‘shit’ or ‘damn’ or ‘arse’ or ‘bloody’ or ‘hell’. Still, Charlie and Karl often flung the words around when they were playing with one another. It made them feel grown up and like their family. But Charlie knew not to say in front of Johanna or no doubt she would tell their mother.

           “Shhhh, Jo, sh!” He tried to hush her before Leah heard.

           “But-”

           “I know I’m not s’posed to say it. But don’t tell mum.” Charlie pled in a low voice.

           “But mummy says we can’t say it!” Johanna, always out to please her parents, was unnerved at the idea of lying.

           “We can’t say it. It just slipped out. Just-I’ll do anything if you don’t tell mum.” He begged.

           A mischievous smile formed on Johanna’s face. “Anything?”

           Charlie sighed. “I s’pose. What do you want?”

           “I want chocolate.”

           “We’re ‘bout to have lunch. ‘Sides I dunno if Alfie has chocolate anywhere.” Charlie replied. "Mum told us not to snoop here."

           “There’s a candy store,” Johanna remembered last time she and Leah had gone into town to buy a few things.

           “Where?”

           “I know where.” Johanna hopped up and went for the door.

           “Hang on.” Charlie paused. He wasn’t sure they were supposed to leave the house without Leah, Tommy, or even Alfie. But sometimes he and Karl were allowed to go down the street by themselves. He felt old enough to walk into town and as long as he was watching Johanna, what could go wrong? “Wait here.” He grabbed their coats and found Leah’s purse. He dug inside and pulled out a couple of coins to purchase the candy for his sister.

           Donning their coats, the two left out the front door without anyone realizing they’d left.  

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Apparently I’m in a weird wedding mood, which I don’t understand, but here we are. I now have two weeks off from the school I teach at because of the governor of PA ordered all of Montgomery County schools to close, and guess where I teach !! And SJU is also online starting Thursday until Easter, so maybe I’ll be writing more assuming I also get my grading and done. 

But here we go _________________________________

Sometimes you just want to come home and do nothing. Especially today. You had a hard day at work and nothing would make you happier than sitting down on your couch and watching Gilmore Girls even though you knew your boyfriend would try to get you to watch something else. 

As soon as you open the door, a smell of cinnamon hits you like a brick.

You go straight to the kitchen, expecting the worst. “What the fuck?” You see your boyfriend, Mitch, covered in flour and butter, sugar covering the counter, various other baking items scattered across the kitchen.

“I tried to take a nap. But I couldn’t sleep and couldn’t think of anything better to do!” 

“So you make several dozen cookies?” You ask him, walking around to the other side of the counter as he was beaming at his accomplishment.

“And a few loaves of bread!” 

You can’t help but laugh because he looks so cute and proud of himself. You go up to him with a cookie. 

“Babe. You don’t know how to bake,” you say, moving him aside to look for the cleaning products you keep under the sink, “how on Earth did you manage to make all of this? Do you expect us to eat all of these before they go bad?” 

“What if I said people were coming over tonight?” he says like a child, batting his eyelashes. 

“What if I said no?”

“I’ll be sad and we’d be forced to eat all of this on our own and I know for a fact you’re not going to like at least half of the kinds I made because they have peanut butter in them.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Who’s coming?”

“Some of the guys from the team.” 

“If they’re your friends, you’re cleaning up, and I’m going to watch Gilmore Girls for the next two hours in our room. Call me when they’re here,” you tell him. 

“I get no help?” He starts to pout, knowing that doing that almost always gets you to gladly cave in to what he wanted, never regretting it. 

But this time, you were too tired. “Sorry, you know the rule: you make the mess you clean it up,” you kissed his cheek and rub some of the flour off his face with your thumb, “You really are adorable like this, though.” You kiss him again, him trying to grab your waist to pull you in for more, but you wiggle free, running to your room and jumping on the bed. 

 You fell asleep without trying to, and you woke up to Mitch rustling around looking for new clothes to put on. “Hey, sorry, Y/N,” he says, plopping down onto the bed to put new socks on, “the guys should be by soon, I don’t know if you want to change or go back to sleep, because you look great either way.” 

You smile, knowing he’s only saying that because he feels he has to. He probably believes it, too, but he still says it anyway. 

“I’ll change into something else,” you say, sitting up, giving him another kiss. He tries again to pull you in for more, his hand grabbing your thigh, “Ok, as much as I would love more right now, your friends are going to be here very soon and I would rather them find us completely clothed since I know at least one of them has a key here.”

“I could call them and tell them to stay away,” he says, really thinking about it. 

“If you didn’t bake enough to fund a small bakery for a year, then fine,” you laugh, getting up to look for a new outfit to change into, “What about this?” you turn around, showing him the sexiest outfit you had. Obviously you weren’t going to wear it with his friends coming, but seeing him actually drool like that made you laugh.

By the time you had settled on some fun pants and a plain white t-shirt, some of the guys were starting to show up. Apparently Mitch had planned it so they all brought food; a potluck brought to you by a bunch of guys who could barely cook to begin with. It was just a normal night.

“Hey, Y/N, long time, no see!” Auston comes up to you, handing you a plate of mac and cheese. The only thing all of the guys seemed to know how to make was some variation of pasta and cheese. Instead of a pot luck, it was a pasta luck. 

“Hey, Auston! I’ve missed you!” you take the plate and grab him in for a hug, “You’ve been doing pretty well, I’ve heard?” Mitch talks about Auston and William almost nonstop; you didn’t even have to meet them to get to know them. But, thanks to Mitch talking about them, and him apparently talking about you, you guys were really close without even trying.

“How’ve ya been? I mean, he doesn’t stop talking about you ever, but I’d rather hear it from you for once.”

“Good, works been hard, but it’s worth it.”

“If you love what you do -” “Then you’ll never work a day in your life,” you say in unison. The two of you laugh and continue talking and eating various pasta dishes as Mitch and Will came up to join the conversation.

You must’ve been talking for almost an hour when you noticed Mitch fidgeting more than usual. You pull him away, “Hey, are you alright?” you ask him. He almost looks nervous about something.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” he says, almost unable to make eye contact with you.

You didn’t believe him, but you had to trust him. He hasn’t lied to you before that you know of, and he wouldn’t start now. If he had to tell you something, he would do it when he was ready. 

You went back to talking to some of the other guys, glancing at Mitch as he kept fidgeting and looking nervous. You’ve seen him look nervous before big games, like when they would play teams like the Bruins, or the Habs. 

“Hey, everyone?” Mitch finally says. Everyone stops talking around him, turning to him to listen, “So, I told everyone that I just wanted you guys to come here and hang out like a normal night, but I also wanted to do something more than that. I’ve actually wanted to do it for a while, but it wasn’t until Auston pretty much told me ‘it’s now or never.’”

You turn to Auston, “what’s he talking about?”

Auston just smiles as Mitch continues, “So, when I was around five-years-old, my parents took me to meet the new neighbors that had just moved in across the street. My mom told me the family was the mom and dad, a girl around my age, and two younger brothers. I thought I would like the two brothers, but it turns out the girl would become my best friend. 

“I moved away for hockey, and she eventually moved away for college, only for us to keep in touch over the phone or Facebook and Snapchat. It wasn’t until she decided to go to law school up here that we saw each other for the first time since we were about fifteen-years-old. I asked her out, and for some reason, she said yes. And since then, I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been.

“But something was missing. She was my girlfriend, but I wanted her to be something more.” He says, walking over to you, taking your hand. You couldn’t help but start to ugly cry at this point. Thankfully this is something he had seen before, so he was left unphased. He got down on one knee and pulled out what was quite possibly the most gorgeous ring you had ever seen. 

“Y/N. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” 

The boys around you started clapping, you hearing Auston and Will starting to yell and cheer as you pulled Mitch up into a kiss. This time you didn’t pull away.