#the way he cradles his cheek and shrugs his shoulders like a love-struck teenager

[daddy-long-legssss]

there's a set of rickety stars in-between my heart and my head

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part seventy seven/

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: Enjoy a soft cute chapter before stuff starts to pick back up again!

Warnings: smut, language 

Taglist:   @aryssav , @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless,  @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @awesomealmostdopestudent, @romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy @thanks2pete,  @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001,  @waywardprincess666, @malibubarbievince, @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @zoenicoles, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist  @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe,  @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe, @sleepyjunhong  @meetthesixxter @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks @kaitieskidmore1 @unknownoblivion @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland @kylieinwonderland @haileynicoleseavey17 @lavendersoundbarrier @youretheonlyonewhomakesme, @xxisxxisxxis, @dogmom2014, @cruesixxlover1991, @xpoisonousrosesx, @cranberrirolls, @m0rnlngstar, @love-struck-aries, @findingmyths, @minxtruck, @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @arianareirg, @fentitrbl, @sinningsixx, @motleycrueprincess, @redlipscrystalskies14, @samanthadegaro, @brideofdraculana​,

~Christmas 1995~

“You know what would really make this a good Christmas?” I looked up at Nikki, smiling as I folded wrapping paper littered with golds and greens. It was currently one in the morning and we were scramming to get all the presents wrapped. Arianna so far, has woken up twice to see if Santa has came yet. Luckily, we were able to get her back to sleep quickly.

“Whats that, Princess?” Nikki asked me as he put another present under the tree before grabbing another one.

“Some snow.” I looked at him, taking a sip of a whiskey glass full of Jack Daniels and Irish Cream.

“Snow? But you hate the cold. Which is also why I didn’t understand why you picked New York. It’s freezing there.” Nikki chuckled

“No! No. Dust I mean, you know blow? Coke? Snow?” I smirked and put down the drink, almost missing the table, “Whoops.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Nikki laughed, “I think you’ve had enough of those jack knifes Van.” He tsk’d before cutting paper in one smooth motion.

“No way. This is only my third one and we still have a gazillion presents to wrap.” I took another sip before offering some to him. He gave me a look before bringing the glass to his lips and taking a swig.

“Christ, V. No wonder why you’re already buzzed. It’s all whiskey.” He chuckled before handing it back to me.

“You’re just a pussy.” I said in a matter of fact type tone before putting the glass down and scooting away from the present I had been attempting to wrap for the past fifteen minutes. I laid back and rested my head on Nikki’s thigh, “You think she’ll be happy?”

Nikki laughed and ran his fingers through my hair, “Of course she’ll be happy. Look at all these presents. She’s going to loose her mind. Why are you worried babe?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know. Sometimes I just wonder if I’m doing enough for her ya know? That she knows I’m a good mom and that you’re a good dad...I don’t want her to end up hating us when she’s older.”

“What? She won’t hate us. I mean maybe she’ll think she hates us when she’s a teenager but we still have so many years to go until we get there. You’re a great mom and she knows that. Just like she knows I’m a great dad. Plus, I think the presents will help in our favor too.” He smiled down at me before reaching for my drink and finishing it off.

I was about to protest, “I will make you another one. Don’t worry.” He smiled before kissing my lips and letting me move off of him before he went to the kitchen.

“So, when are we gonna eat these cookies? We better not get any rabbits or moles in the backyard because of all the carrots she threw out there for the reindeer.” Nikki spoke as he brought the plate of cookies and a fresh drink to me.

“Anarchy will eat the carrots and for the cookies...well, we can eat them now. We deserve a snack break anyways.” I grabbed one of the frosted cookies Arianna had decorated today and laid down on the floor and stared up at tree.

Nikki laid down next to me and I shuffled closer to him, “You did a good job decorating it. I think the last time I had a Christmas tree up in the house was 89’.” Nikki explained to me as I glanced at him.

“When I was still here?” He nodded, “Brandi didn’t decorate?”

He chuckled, “No. We were out touring but I had a mini one in my hotel rooms. And Brandi, well, she was always modeling or she would go home to her family during the holidays. We only spent like two thanksgivings together in the four years we were married.”

“You make marriage sound horrible.” I muttered as I took a sip of my drink.

“My marriage to her was horrible. But when we get married? Oh, doll. It’s gonna be fucking amazing.”

“Or a miracle.” I laughed at the serious face he had, “You still wanna marry me?” I asked curiously, grazing my nails over his jawline.

“Uh, duh? Of course I still want to marry you.”

I smiled at Nikki, his green eyes literally sparkling under the strings of white lights wrapped around the tree. I reached up and gave him a slow kiss, taking his bottom lip between my teeth gently before pulling away.

“It’s not too late for you to be put on the naughty list, Vanity.” He smirked, engulfing my hips in his hands and pulling me closer to him.

“And why would I want to join you on that list?” I chuckled and reached between all the gifts and grabbed a shiny tin foil box and handed it to him, “Here. An early Christmas present.”

He groaned before sitting up and putting it into his lap, “Fine, but you gotta open-“ I pressed my finger to his lips, watching him smirk before he kissed it and wrapped his lips around it.

I started laughing, “No only for you- ah!” I covered my mouth when he captured my finger by his teeth, “Nikki.” He grinned before letting it go and his hand started untying the black ribbon.

I cradled my whiskey glass taking a sip ever so often as I watched him toss the lid to the side before throwing white tissue paper at me, “Oh, holy shit!” He looked at me, his smile from ear to ear before he took out the camera out of the box.

“Baby...”

I chewed on my bottom lip and pressed the power button for him, “It’s all charged and I thought I could be the first picture. Your greatest gift of all.” I laughed and took a bow off the sticky paper and put it on top of my head.

“I love you so god damn much.” He smiled before raising to sit on his knees and kiss me, “I want the bow a little lower, though.”

I cocked my head to the side and took the bow off my hair, “Here?” I smirked, taking a sip and put it over my chest. Nikki chuckled but shook his head.

“A little lower baby. I can show you if you want?”

I stood up, with the help of his shoulders and shimmied the Christmas themed pajama pants down my legs before stepping out of them. I sat back down supporting myself with one hand and opened up my legs to him, “Right there?” I placed the silver bow right above my panty line. Nikki licked his lips and nodded.

“Take them off and lay down.” Nikki instructed as I laid back and raised my hips, pulling the red laced thong down my legs before throwing them at him.

Nikki rests his hand on my knee and places the bow between my legs after I opened them again for him. He grabbed the camera before I heard the click of the shutter, “Take off your shirt.”

I did as he said, “Cover yourself with your arm.” I looked at him, “Just do it.” I crossed my forearm over my chest. His hand came down and caressed my chin before tilting my head the way he wanted it. “Just look at me. Give me your pouty eyes.”

“But I’m not pouting?” Nikki smiled behind the camera and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, pretend I just told you no to using my credit card for a really nice pair of heels you wanted....there it is. Good girl.” Nikki took the shot before looking at it and showed me it, “Beautiful as ever, Van. Can we take one more?”

I smiled and kissed his cheek, “What do you want to-“ Before I could even get the words out of my mouth, Nikki had a hand wrapped around my throat and guided me down to the floor again. I closed my eyes, feeling his thumb brush over my skin and my lips parted when he tightened his grip. I opened my eyes to look at the camera, biting my bottom lip as he squeezed even more.

“I love it when you look at me like that.” Nikki murmured before putting the camera down and pulled my hips towards him. I reached up for his shoulders to pull him down and he happily obliged. His lips captured mine as he slid his tongue into my mouth. I hummed at the taste of him, hooking my knee over his lower back.

I placed my hands under his shirt, pushing the fabric up his body as he sat up and quickly pulled it off before coming back to my lips, his hand wrapping into strands of hair and rested on the nape of my neck. I closed my eyes when his lips and teeth made work out of my neck, sucking and nipping softly. Nikki moved down to my chest, squeezing my breast before pinching and rolling my nipple between his fingers. His mouth stayed busy with the other one.

My hands wander to between our legs as I reached into his sweats and wrapped my hand around his hardening cock, slowly sliding my hand up and down. Nikki closed his eyes and gnawed on his bottom lip as I picked up the pace his hips started following my movements.

“Fuck Vanity.” Nikki moaned, peppering my clavicle with kisses. I swiped my thumb over the tip and used the pre cum to make things a lot smoother. Nikki reached into his pants, placing his hand on top of mine to guide me, “So good...shit.” He breathed out before pulling his pants down more.

I licked my fingers before putting my hand between my leg, rubbing slow circles around my clit as I watched him jerk himself off before he pushed my legs open for him. Nikki pulled me closer to his body before resting my leg against his chest. He placed his lips against the sunflower on my ankle before biting my calf.

A low moan tumbled out of my lips as he rubbed his cock against my pussy. I watched as a tear drop of spit spilled off his tongue and right onto me before he rubbed his thumb over my clit, “Nikki..” I grabbed a hold of his cock and guided him into me slowly. Eyes fluttering close as my back arched off the living room floor as Nikki filled me to the brim, “So...so deep.” I placed my hand on his that had an iron grip on my hip.

Nikki pulled back, almost escaping my body before thrusting back in as deep and harder as before. Nikki covered my mouth with his hand as he started fucking me. I closed my eyes, feeling the overwhelming sensation overcome me as my hands rested against his thighs, nails clawing into his skin.

Nikki watched himself move in and out between my legs before reaching for the camera and taking a picture, “Seriously?” I laughed, grabbing his hand and intertwining our fingers together when he put it down.

He chuckled before leaning over and kissing me deeply, his grunts and heavy breaths being swallowed by me as he moved his hips faster against mine. His forearms rested on either side of my head as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, peppering kisses and bites where my neck meets my shoulder.

My eyes closed as i felt myself tighten around his length repeatedly, mixed with the twitching of his cock I knew neither of us were gonna last long. I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, weaving my fingers through his hair while the other rested on his lower back. My hips tilted upwards to meet his as his fingers strummed over my clit. I brought my bottom lip between my teeth as a way to keep my moans under wraps as I felt myself cum.

“Fu-fuck, fuck.” Nikki quickly pushed my leg off his hip and pulled out, taking his cock into his hand and jerking himself off and cumming on my lower abdomen.

I wiped my face, pushing hair out of the way as I heard the shutter of the camera, “Oh my god, really?” I rolled my eyes before playfully kicking him in the chest.

“It’s not the snow you talked about earlier.” He grinned before swiping his finger over my skin and brought it to my lips. I licked the cum off his finger before sucking on it, “Dirty fucking girl.” Nikki giggled like a naughty school boy before patting my cheek.

We both looked at each other, eyes wide when we heard a door open upstairs. I rolled away from Nikki before quickly grabbing his shirt and throwing it over my head, “That’s mine-“ Nikki groaned before quickly pulling up his sweats. I grabbed the rest of my clothes and hid behind the couch.

I peeked over the arm rest to see Nikki take the stairs two at a time before meeting Arianna, “Baby, you need to be sleeping.” I watched him pick her up and hold her in his arms as she rested her head on his shoulder, her blanket still wrapped around her.

“But I need to see Santa.” She mumbled tiredly before Nikki took Arianna to her room.

I laughed to myself before slipping on my underwear and going to sit by Christmas tree. I’ll have to clean that wet spot later. I took a sip of the now watered down jack knife and finished wrapping the present I was working on. I looked over my shoulder when Nikki came downstairs.

“I told her that she has to sleep or Santa won’t come and if he does come he’ll leave her coal.” Nikki explained before grabbing another gift for Arianna and wrapping it.

“Good, because Santa is tired and needs to sleep.”

*Christmas morning*

My eyes fluttered open, glancing at the California sun shining through. I sighed before closing my eyes feeling Nikki adjust in his sleep, wrapping his arm around my waist before his hand slid up my shirt and grabbed a handful of one of my tits.

“Good morning.” He mumbled hoarsely, his hot breath tickling my ear as he kissed the back of my head.

“It’s Christmas.” I relaxed back into the bed, before turning my head to give him a kiss.

“God, your breath is horrible.” Nikki laughed before pushing away from me, groaning as he stretched in my bed and buried his face in the pillows.

“Shut up. Yours ain’t all that great either.” I ran my nails down his exposed side, making him squirm.

I heard pitter patter of feet running down the hallway before the half opened door slammed against the wall, “Santa came!!” Arianna screamed excitedly as she ran to the bed, pulling herself up and crawling up towards us, “Mommy! Come on!” She started pulling on my hand to get me to sit up.

“Arianna.” I laughed, rubbing my eyes seeing her smile, “How do you know Santa came already?”

She let out a groan before jumping on the bed, “Oh Jesus Christ.” Nikki grumbled, wincing in pain when she jumped on his back.

“Cause! Cause I saw the presents downstairs! And the cookies are gone! And we have to open them! Daddy! Wake up! Daddy!”

Nikki quickly wrapped his arms around her and brought her down to the bed, squirming as she laid between us, “But I’m still sleepy.” He pouted before Arianna squeezes his cheeks together in her little hands before sticking her finger up his nose, “Quit it.” He laughed, pushing her hands away from his face.

Arianna huffed and puffed before grabbing each of our hands, “Santa brought me a lot of presents.”

I chuckled before getting out of bed and grabbing shorts that were laying on the floor, “And how do you know if they’re for you? What if they’re all for me?” I questioned before offering my hands to her and lifting her off the bed.

“Because daddy said you were on the naughty list so that means you get coal.”

I shook my head, “No way, Santa loves me. I’m always on the nice list.”

“You’re always on my naughty list.” Nikki mumbled before pulling on his sweats, “Okay sweat pea, let’s go see what Santa brought.”

Arianna ran out of my room, Anarchy finally getting off her dog bed and chasing after her, “Let her outside to go potty first, Ari!”

I walked down the stairs, Nikki following behind me before he went to the kitchen to start making coffee, “Ari baby, you gotta wait!” I sighed when she ripped the silver paper to shreds and pulled out a new Barbie doll.

“Mommy! Look!” She said with a gasp as she showed me.

“Very cool! But hold on.” I told her as she pouted for a moment before nodding. I let Anarchy out as she was waiting patiently by the back door.

“I know, I know. You don’t need to look at me like that.” I patted her head before she ran towards the yard.

“Mom!!” I closed my eyes before going to the couch and sitting down, “Open that pink one.” I pointed to the pink unicorn bag as she quickly grabbed it and sat in the middle of the living room with it.

I almost started laughing when she glared at me, “What is it babe?” I watched as she pulled out a black leather jacket that Nikki had picked out for her.

“Mommy I don’t want a jacket.” She frowned before putting it off to the side and grabbing another present.

I thanked Nikki when he handed me a cup of coffee and sat down next to me, “What’s wrong with the jacket? You’re gonna be so cool when you go back to school.” He grabbed it off the floor and motioned her to come to him. He helped her put it on before smiling, “Do you like it?”

She huffed and looked at the sleeves and tugged on it, “Yes. It’s like yours.” Arianna mumbled before shimmying out of it and giving it back to Nikki.

“Told you she’d like it.” He whispered to me as she went back to the tree and started pulling out present after present.

“You wanna open one of your presents from Santa?” Nikki questioned as I rolled my eyes but nodded. He got off the couch and grabbed a gold glittered bag with red tissue paper sticking out of it and put it on my lap.

I put my cup of coffee down before opening up the bag and pulling out the paper, my cheeks turning a shade of pink as I closed the bag, “Nikki. You couldn’t have gave this to me, oh I don’t know last night?”

He grinned and shook his head, “Did you even look at it? I picked it out myself. I think it will fit I had to raid your bra and panty drawer when you were out of the house.”

I pulled out a mesh, see through bra that had small, silver link chains hanging down, “Those wrap around you and I-“

“I know what they’re for.” I chuckled before grabbing the matching thong that went with it, my eyes widening at the leather cuffs at the bottom of the bag that had even longer chains attached to it, “And these?”

He smirked, “I’m glad you asked, well, they can be chained to either my bed posts or yours.”

“What did you get mommy?” I quickly stuffed them back in the bag when Arianna tried taking a peek.

“Oh, just boring clothes from Santa, baby.” I spoke fast as she went back to the tree and started opening another present.

“Go grab one for you.” I nudged him as he groaned and picked a tiny red box and sat back down. I watched as he shook it, making a face when he heard something rattle inside.

“A scooter?!?” Arianna screamed and tried pushing the box to us, “Mommy! Can we open it!?”

I laughed, “Open the rest of them and then we can go outside and play.” I smiled at her as she nodded.

“Please tell me you got her a helmet.” I whispered to Nikki as he chuckled.

“Outside waiting with the Barbie Jeep.” He looked at me before taking the lid off the box and pulling out a tinier black velvet box. He raised his eyebrow in suspicion before opening it, “Oh! Whoa!”

Nikki held up a gold ring that was in the shape of a skull with little intricate details, “Van! This is fuckin’ sick!” He chimed as he slid it on his finger.

“Does it fit okay? The jeweler said I could have it resized if it didn’t.” I asked him as he took it off and examined it some more, “Look.” I grabbed it and flipped it upside down showing him the ‘Sixx’ that was engraved in old English lettering.

“It fits perfectly babe. Thank you.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek before putting it back his middle finger, “I love it. And you.”

After Arianna had demolished through all of her presents, the living room over flowing with ripped bags and paper, she was content playing with her new Barbie dream house and driving the RC Barbie car with her dolls inside, terrorizing Anarchy with it.

“Here. Open this one.” Nikki handed me a white box with a red silk bow wrapped around it. I smiled at him before getting up and walking to the tree, standing on my tip toes to grab a black envelope with ‘Nikki’ written in gold cursive.

“Open this one too.”

“No. You go first.” He grinned, sitting on the floor in front of me with the pink Santa hat on top of his head.

The box felt heavy as I untied the bow, a longer dark blue velvet box inside of it. I glanced at him for a split second before opening it up, gasping when I stared down at a thick strip of diamonds. I took it between my fingers and held it up, the sunshine coming through the window making it glisten, “Baby...”

“Don’t cum in your panties.” He laughed before sitting up on his knees and taking it from me. Nikki pushed my hair away and wrapped the diamond encrusted choker around my neck before clasping it, “You like it?”

I nodded and brought my hand up to my neck to feel it. I walked over to the mirror and looked at it, “It’s absolutely beautiful. Thank you Nikki.” I bit my lip and gawked over it, a contempt sigh pushing past my lips.

“Anything for you princess.” He grinned before he opening up his gift. I took off the choker and put it back in the box, “What the hell is this?” He laughed as he flipped through the little pamphlet.

Clementine had suggested to make something for Nikki because I had no idea what to get him for Christmas. So, I did some research.

“Good for one...one blow job?” He looked at me confused.

“They’re coupons!”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Coupons? You know what those are?”

I rolled my eyes, “Yes I know what they are! Think of them as like golden tickets!” I watched as he flipped through them some more.

“Redeem for a date night? Vanity...uh...thank you?” He flipped through some more, “Redeem for....anything you want?” I watched the wheels turn in his head as he looked at me, “Huh...good for sex, another blow job, a massage, cuddles...” He muttered as he went through them all, “A home cooked meal...don’t want that one.”

“Oh come on!” I groaned, “It’s cute! And if I deny any of them I have to give you one hundred dollars.”

He arched an eyebrow, “...And I can use them whenever?” I nodded, “Any time, any place? I just give it to you?” Again, I nodded, “Hm. I’ll hold onto this for a rainy day then.”

“I have one more gift for you.” I smiled at him, “But you have to close your eyes.”

“Vanity, I thought we agreed we weren’t gonna go crazy.” His eyes fluttered closed, “And I thought you were okay with that, thats why I didn’t get you a lot.”

“Yes I’m okay with that but I just couldn’t pass this up. Keep them closed.” I walked down the hallway and to the closet, grabbing the long dark green wrapped box with a gold bow on it and carried it to the living room.

My mother likes auctioning off a lot of the antiques and rich, expensive items for fun that have have been in the family for decades. Back in October, she had told me some really cool things were going to be auctioned off that myself or Nikki would be interested in. Some guy had came to the auction and had guitars, basses, and pianos from musical artists ranging from the 1950s all the way to the 1970s. I didn’t recognize any of them as they were mainly one hit wonder bands and singers but he did have a signed Marc Bolan guitar with a certificate of authenticity. And I recognized it immediately as Marc Bolan was the singer for T. Rex so I had my mother bid for it.

“Okay. Here you go.” I told Nikki as his eyes opened and he looked at me then the box before quickly taking it from me.

His smile was huge, “It’s a bass right? A guitar?” I shrugged and watched as he ripped the paper off. He sucked in a deep breath of air as he put the box on the floor and towered over it, ripping off the tape and opening the lid. Packing peanuts started flying as he pulled out a burnt orange Gibson Les Paul guitar, “Oh no fucking way. No fucking way!” Nikkis fingers glided over the faded black signature “Marc fucking Bolan?! Vanity Blackwood tell me this isn’t real!!”

“It’s not.”

“You liar!” He yelled excitedly as he picked up the certificate, “Oh my god it’s real! This is real?!Where did you find this?!” He carefully put it down and tackled me on the couch peppering kisses over my cheeks and lips causing me to laugh under him before he got on the floor and grabbed it again.

“Baby...I-I I don’t even know what to say.” I smiled as Nikki strummed on the strings just a bit, “Thank you Van. Really, I’m-just thank you.”

I smiled at Nikki before watching him reach behind and grab the last present, “For you.” He placed it on my lap as he started tuning the guitar.

I tore apart the gift wrap and unraveled the tissue paper before staring at a glass frame the map of a night sky.

‘In your hands now lays the night sky from January 15th, 1981. It was a Thursday night. I had just left the Starwood and you were working at the diner. My memories hazy, but I have an excuse. However, I still remember the way you looked that night. You were wearing black skinny jeans, with a pair of white converse. Your hair was in a bun and you had a blue pen sticking out of it but you were writing orders with a red pen. Your white short sleeved, buttoned down uniform shirt had a pink stain on it but I didn’t pay much attention because you had quite a few buttons undone. I remember when you first looked at me, you took my breath away. I couldn’t fathom how gorgeous someone could be, I still can’t. You light up my world, just like the stars on the night we met. Merry Christmas Vanity.

I love you past the moon, the stars, and the sun.’

I looked at Nikki as he flipped his hair back and out of his face, “What?” He grinned, “I think you got a little something on your cheek, doll.”

I sniffled before putting the picture frame down before taking the guitar away from him and sitting in his lap, “I love you so much, Nikki.” I laughed when he wiped the few tears from my cheek, “It’s absolutely beautiful.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed the side of his neck.

“I love you too. I didn’t know if you’d like it or not. And I spent weeks deciding to get it but I’m really glad you do.” He rambled, scratching the back of his head before brushing away pieces of hair from his eyes.

“It’s perfect. I like it way more than the diamond choker.” I said before tilting his jaw up by his chin and pressing a kiss to his lips.

He quickly pulled away from me, “You’re joking.”

I chuckled, “Maybe just a little bit.” I quickly kissed him again and reached for the camera on the coffee table, “Arianna! Come here! We gotta take a picture!”

Arianna came running down the hallway with her new barbies and Anarchy, who had an antler headband, “Come here.” I motioned for her and patted my lap, tickling her sides and making her laugh and scream.

“Okay! Okay, it’s on a timer.” Nikki quickly came and sat down next to me, wrapping both me and Ari up in his arms and pulling us closer to his side, “C’mere girl.” Nikki spoke to Anarchy before telling her to sit.

I leaned my head on Nikki’s shoulder, smiling as Anarchy licked the side of Arianna’s face. The camera beeped and then a flash, solidifying a great moment forever.

[lnc2]

Runaway Wedding

Summary: The invitations are sent, the caterers paid, and the date set.  Now if only Marinette could locate her groom.

A/N: This is a commission for the lovely @crazyfanatic97 who requested a wedding reveal.

AO3

Of all the ways Marinette thought she’d be spending the morning of her wedding, the one hundred and one thousand disasters she anticipated and prepared for, somehow she missed the most obvious catastrophe of all:

“What do you mean you can’t find Adrien?”

Alya, already dressed and a vision in red, shot Nino a scathing look.

“What part of ‘don’t tell Marinette’ was unclear to you?”

Nino backpedaled. “It’s not like he’s gone gone.  He’s just… not where I thought he’d be.”

But Marinette wasn’t listening. 

Already she could feel the stays of her corset tightening as she struggled to breathe.  Oh god, she was going to be one of those people that got left at the altar. Hell she wasn’t even going to make it that far.  Marinette could see the headlines now: Former Teen Model Adrien Agreste Finally Comes to His Senses.

Oh god.  How was she going to tell her parents?  And the guests? What were they going to do with all the food ? What would happen to–

Alya’s hands, warm and firm clasped her shoulders and squeezed.

“Hey, M, breathe, honey. Stop it.  I’m sure everything is fine.”

“But what if–”

“There is no scenario in the world you could run through your crazy little head that results in Adrien Agreste not showing up at that church today.”

She bit her lip. “Alya, I don’t want to marry him if you have to threaten him.”

Alya’s grin was almost feral. “Who said anything about a threat.”

Despite her rising panic, Marinette laughed. “You’d have to get behind me first.”

“I promise you, if it comes down to it, you’ll get the first swing.” Alya squeezed her shoulder again and smiled. “But M, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.  That man is crazy about you.”

It was true.

Somehow, some way, about three years into lycee Adrien Agreste noticed her.  Like, noticed noticed her. It was unlooked for and surprising and such a shock to her teenage heart that Marinette actually laughed the first time he asked her out.

“No really, Marinette,” He said, all limbs and nerves and awkward teenage insecurity. “If you’re interested I’d really like to take you out.”

And really, lingering college crush aside, how could she say no?

The answer was she couldn’t. 

Marinette took his offer running and never looked back.

Until now .

She fussed with the skirt of her princess gown.  It was a Gabriel original, just for her, an ivory dream with gold and silver thread creating soft, illusory roses throughout the fabric.  The underskirt a pink ruffled fall that shushed as she walked.

She’d never felt more beautiful when she first tried it on.  Now it felt like a chiffon chafing trap.

“Don’t worry, Marinette.” Tikki whispered as Alya and Nino had it out in the dressing room. “Adrien loves you.  I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

He better be .

Just as her thoughts turned more bloodthirsty Alya’s phone chimed out in a familiar, red alarm wail.

Marinette’s eyes snapped to her maid of honor who abandoned berating her boyfriend to check the alert.

“An akuma at the Trocadero.  It looks like Chat Noir is already on the scene.”

Oh for fuck’s sake .

Her hands fisted in her skirts and she felt Tikki shifting beside her.

Why today ?

Bad enough her groom was missing– now she had to find away to escape Alya and her cousins and her mother long enough to defeat the akuma.  And dammit, she’d already done her hair .

Miraculous Ladybug better be as good at fixing makeup as it was at restoring city blocks or there would be hell to pay.

“Alya,” She said, stealing herself to play the distressed bride. “You should go help Nino.  I think– I think I need to be alone for a while.”

________________________________________________

Adrien was going to kill Hawkmoth.

Of all the days to send out an akuma he had to choose the morning of his wedding.  Never mind he had to convince Plagg to once, just this once , go without camembert so he didn’t smell like stinky cheese or the fact that Nino had earnestly asked him if there was such a thing as a formal baseball cap.

No, instead of spending a few quiet hours preparing himself to marry the love of his life Adrien was forced to exchange his tux for leather and play supernanny to an akumatized toddler.

Needless to say, he was feeling a little rattled.

Fortunately, this akuma seemed more preoccupied playing with cars like Tonka trucks rather than causing untold mayhem.  It left Chat running interference with said car’s occupants and waiting for his lady to show up to take care of the situation.

She didn’t disappoint.

Twenty minutes after he first appeared on the scene he heard the familiar whirring of her yoyo as she swung up and landed beside him.

“Let’s make this quick,” She snapped, calling on her lucky charm. A small, pink rubber ball dropped into her hand.  Ladybug met his eyes as if to say what the fuck do I do with this?

In the back of his mind, Chat noticed that she seemed to be more done up than usual.  Her hair was arranged in an intricate knot, with glitter dusting her fringe like a halo.  Her eyes were brighter, lips rosy pink, and he wondered about the special event she had planned today that left her rejecting his own wedding invitation.

“Sorry LB.  That’s your area not mine.”

She huffed, shook her head, and shot off towards the akuma.

Inspiration eluded her, however, and minutes passed as they flitted around the akuma and her makeshift racetrack.  He could hear the occasional beep as Ladybug’s miraculous ticked down, down, no closer to solving the riddle of the rubber ball than she had been before.

“Chat, I’ll need to recharge!”

Or at least, that’s what she was going to say before a pair of grasping, chubby fingers caught her out of the air midswing.

“Ladybug!” He cried.

The akuma cooed happily. “Dolly!”

Panic, tight, gave way to terror as his partner squirmed, helpless, her miraculous giving out its last warning before engulfing her in bright pink light.  Frightened by the sudden flash, the akuma let out a cry and stumbled back, dropping its prize and sending a detransformed Ladybug falling.

Chat didn’t hesitate.

Using his baton he sprung forward, retracting it mid-leap to catch her, and cradling her close as they tumbled to a nearby roof.  He winced as his back slid against the tiles, hoping his lady would be able to repair any damage and lingering soreness. He really didn’t want to limp his way through his first dance.

“Nice catch,” Ladybug breathed.  His pained laugh was cut off by her startled shriek.  Chat’s eyes snapped open only to see a blur of black and pink and ivory as she rolled off and away from him.  “Oh my god. Oh shit, oh holy fuck .”

“LB?”

Distraught, Ladybug whirled, her dress– her wedding dress – swirling around her feet in the process.  But it wasn’t the dress, lovely and stained though it was, that sent Chat Noir into a shell-struck daze.

“Ma– Marinette ?” He squeaked.

Marinette’s head snapped up and her kohl lined eyes went wide.

“No. Oh no, no, no, no, no. ” Another round of curses escaped her mouth and wow, yes, this was definitely his fiancee.  Unfortunately he didn’t have too much time to dwell on that particular revelation as the akuma regained its bravery and was waddling towards them again.

“Sorry my lady.  Looks like we’ll have to take this freak out to-go.” Chat scooped up his partner in his arms and took off running.

Marinette’s arms wrapped tight around his shoulders as she buried her face in his neck.

“Alya is going to have a fit.  It took her and my mom like an hour to get my hair right.”

“I think you’re beautiful no matter what.”

Marinette snorted. “Flatterer.”

“Besides,” He said ducking into a nearby alley. “Miraculous Ladybug will put everything to rights.”

“It better,” She grumbled, squirming until he set her down. “My father-in-law will have a conniption if this dress is anything less than pristine.”

Chat winced. “Tell me about it.”

Marinette frowned up at him. “What?”

He was saved from answering however when Tikki poked her head out from one of the many, many layers of satin.

“Did you remember to bring any cookies?”

Marinette shook her head.  “I’m sorry, Tikki. I didn’t want to get any chocolate stains on my dress.”

The little kwami looked to him.

Chat shrugged.  “I have some cheddar if that’s okay.  Plagg can handle sharing for one day.”

“Thank y-OU what are you doing ?”

Marinette’s question ended on a shriek as he dropped his transformation.  She squeezed her eyes shut, hands smacking wildly for his face.

“ Orw, Merhneh, schtop irt,” He said through her fingers. Adrien attempted to pull her hands away only for her to press into him harder.

“Chat Noir you put your mask back on right now!”

“No can do, bugaboo.” He said, gently grabbing hold of her wrists and removing them from his face.  Her eyes were squeezed tight, irritated pout on her lips. Adrien’s heart flipped over itself with joy.

Marinette .

He placed a kiss on her palm. “How will I explain a black eye to our guests?”

Marinette’s eyes snapped open, then opened further still as she took in her wayward fiance.  Tux Agreste pristine and hair a windswept Chat Noir mess, shock and relief and irritated affection threatened to overwhelm her.

“I guess this explains your disappearance.” She murmured, hands reaching up to tame his hair.   Adrien shrugged, sheepish, but didn’t pull away.

Realization, hot and quick, sliced through her.

“Adrien.  Oh my god, Adrien .”  Marinette’s hands fell from his hair to cup his face, panicked. 

Confused, cheeks squished together, he murmured, “Yerh?”

She let go and whirled away, skirts swirling around her in a frantic show of pink and ivory and– he froze.

“I’m not supposed to see you before the wedding!  It’s bad luck!”

“Chat I swear to god–” Marinette laughed, slightly hysterical. “We have to be at the church in an hour .  Hell, we’re supposed to be there now .”

In the distance, the sound of car alarms and sirens echoed.

“I guess we better get moving then.” He said, passing Tikki a wedge of cheddar and calling back his transformation.  “I have a date I really don’t want to be late for.”

Marinette waited for Tikki’s signal and transformed.  Chat inwardly preened as his fiance turned lady met his gaze with a wry smile.

“What?”

Ladybug shook her head. “I just can’t believe you were right.”

“Technically,” He said, grinning as he pulled her close, mask meeting mask.  “We both were.”

[need-a-fugue]

Why Not? - Chapter Nine

Summary: With a garage to run and a young daughter to, well… run after, Bucky Barnes doesn’t exactly have time for dating. And with his relationship track record – and the constant meddling of a certain overbearing best friend – he’s not so sure that’s a bad thing. But then he meets Annie – a rather insistent, pretty damn cute fellow car enthusiast – and it’s got him asking himself, despite all his hesitations, why not?

Author’s Note: Written for Little Darlin’s Mystery AU Challenge. Thanks to @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​​ for triggering this… sprawling thing simply by supplying me with the prompt of Mechanic!AU for Bucky. It’s taken on a life of its own already… look at what you’ve done! 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: SUPER fluffy. Always some language.

The beginning of the week – and all of Wednesday thus far – passes slower than molasses in January. Slower than a herd of turtles in a marathon. Slower than rush-hour traffic in downtown Boston. Slower than…

“Hello?” rips into her periphery, tearing her focus away from the melancholy countdown percolating in her head. “Angela,” Tony intones thickly as he glides into her small office. There’s a sly, knowing smirk brewing on his lips, his voice full of innuendo when he goes on to ask, “What has you so… deep in thought?”

“Sorry,” she mutters, straightening upright and beginning to shuffle papers back and forth erratically in an attempt to make herself look busy. “Nothing.”

A long, haughty laugh, a lingering pose by her desk, a deliberate quirk of his brows followed by a clever wink… and Annie’s done. She rolls her eyes, pushes back in the oversized office chair, and rises to leave. “What? No chitchat? No coffee klatch?” Tony almost whines as she grabs her cell and prepares to head out. “Where’s the gossip, huh? C’mon, kid, spill the tea!”

She tries – tries damn hard – to keep from laughing as he sputters next to her. But the corners of her mouth tick up nevertheless, even as she works to keep her lips pinched firmly shut.

He steps slowly over to her, looming in front of her. “Is tonight the night?” he asks with a wiggle of his brows. Then, eyes tracing down along her frame, expression setting in something akin to disappointment, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

“Tony!” she gushes, her shoulders drooping. All at once, a wave a trepidation rolls over her, pushing all of the impatience and excitement to the far back corner of her mind. She glances down at her black cropped trousers, eyes catching the hem of her flowy red, silk tank. “Wh-what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

He shrugs. “Guess it really depends on what’s underneath.”

Wide eyes fly up to meet his smug, grinning face. “Tony!” she exclaims – for probably the twentieth time today. “How many times do I have to tell you? You cannot talk to employees about… what lives under their clothes.”

His nose twitches, lip pulling into a disgusted snarl. “I hope to God there’s nothing living under there,” he states with a snort. Annie lets out a huff and rolls her eyes yet again. “I’m just saying that there better be some lace and silk between you and those really unsexy pants if you want to get laid tonight.” He cocks his head assessingly, his posture and expression – and attention on her body – eliciting a thick, hot blush along her cheeks. “Or maybe something… edible?”

Her jaw drops, an short gasp popping loose from her chest and bringing a swift howl of laughter from her terribly inappropriate boss. “I can’t… I don’t… Why would I…”

Tony waves a dismissive hand through the air – “Relax, kid. I’m just messing with you.” – and turns on a sincere, if still jovial, expression. “You look great. He’d be crazy not to want to – ”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” she murmurs – almost begs – as a look of humiliation washes over her face.

“Alright, alright,” he laughs out, dropping a hand to her shoulder and giving her a small shove towards the door. “You’re the one who said you had to be gone by five today. No matter what. Now look,” he intones, flashing his hundred-thousand-dollar watch in her face. “It’s 5:04.”

She huffs out a reluctant goodbye and spins to leave, doubts about her clothes – and her less than exciting underwear – clouding her mind as she meanders to the garage. But the minute she makes it to her Bronco, the minute her fingers turn the key in the ignition, one wonderful, beautiful thought spills out into her consciousness and overtakes all of the trivial worries and pesky nerves. It’s Wednesday. Finally, it’s Wednesday.

Annie spends the entire – too damn long – drive over to his place thinking about Bucky’s face and the way his stubble felt beneath her fingertips. About his lips, plump and just slightly chapped, and the way they pressed so urgently into hers. About the soft tenor of his voice – Got to spend the day with my two favorite girls – low and husky and just for her.

It is all that she can focus on. Throughout the drive out to Brooklyn. And the brief stop at the Indian place down the street, where she looms for ten minutes waiting on her order, looking every part the dreamy, doe-eyed – possibly creepy – love-struck teenager. For the several minutes it takes to gather all the food – and the bottle of wine that Tony had gifted her this morning – precariously in her arms. And for the too long trudge down the block – because parking is miserable out here – and up to his door. She is positively fixated on all things Bucky Barnes.

But the spell is swiftly broken – and the silly, goofy smile she’d been wearing all day long vanishes in an instant – the moment Bucky sharply swings open the door to his apartment.

“Shit,” he groans, the single word barely audible over the piercing cries of the little girl in his arms. He spins away from the door – away from a rather stunned Annie – and gently sways Lana in his arms, soft shhhs continuously falling from his lips despite getting thoroughly drown out by her pitiful sobs.

Annie’s jaw drops, eyes blinking rapidly as she takes in the scene. The cluttered room, not yet tidied, though she’s certain he planned on cleaning up before she came. The echoing misery of a sobbing child reverberating off the walls. The shirtless specimen in front of her, his perfectly toned back rippling distractedly, each and every painfully defined muscle shifting as he cradles his baby closer.

She shakes her head vaguely – sloughing off those desirous thoughts – and steps through the door, casually bumping it shut with her foot behind her. Bucky turns back to her when he hears the click of it closing, looks at her with what can only be described as utter desperation in his eyes. Now she sees that Lana is shirtless too, wearing only a pair of pink pajama bottoms. And she smells – mixed in with the heady scent of the Tikka Masala still in her hand – the sickly tang of vomit in the air.

“Sorry,” Bucky mutters over the top of Svetlana’s head, his right hand creeping up to gently weave into her curls and tug her screaming face back down to his shoulder. “Nat’s running late. And…” A long, languid, completely depleted sigh falls from his lips before the rather obvious declaration of, “Lana came home sick.” He steps back, moving toward the hall where he carefully kicks away a small pile of discarded clothing, soft utterances of shhh and It’s okay, baby repeatedly tumbling from his mouth and into the inconsolable creature in his arms.

Annie sets down the food and wine on the breakfast bar and follows on his heels, still silent, still unsure of quite what to say.

“She just threw up again,” he breathes out, his voice a mix of frustration and sadness, a put-on gentle tone overlaying it all for his daughter’s sake. He stops at her bedroom door and turns to face Annie, sees her reaching down to collect the felled – vomit-covered – shirts from the floor. “No,” he snaps, a single, stilling hand dropping from Lana’s back and shooting out towards her. “Don’t. Just… I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s okay,” she issues out, face contorting into a closed-lip grin that doesn’t quite manage to convey the reassurance she’d been aiming for. “You’ve got your hands full.”

Lana’s cries begin to wane – if only the slightest bit – but Bucky can still feel her hot tears steadily cascading down his shoulder and chest as he offers Annie a quick nod and steps into the dimly lit room.

It hadn’t been like this all day… thank God. She had seemed fine this morning, bouncing around as usual, making it nearly impossible for him to comb out her hair and secure it into the requested pigtails. She ate her breakfast – or as much of it as she typically might – and scurried off into her pre-K classroom the moment he dropped her off, very nearly forgetting to give him a kiss goodbye. So it was a surprise to say the least, when the daycare called around noon and told him that his little girl wasn’t feeling well.

Truthfully, he didn’t think too much of it. Just asked Steve to cover for him and took off to go gather his baby up.

Now, Svetlana Barnes is no stranger to the fine art of temper tantrums and manipulative weeping. She is a four year old after all. She can cry and scream and wail with the best of them. But it’s honestly pretty rare – especially with a you know that wobbling lip won’t work on me mother like Natasha. And what’s rarer still is their tough little cookie crying in discomfort. She’s more the type to get angry when she’s tired or under the weather. And silently broody – though utterly clingy – when hurt.

So Bucky knew something was wrong when she started softly crying just as he began to buckle her into the car seat. In a breath of a moment, instinct kicked in and he frantically tugged at the buckle to release her, to pull her back out of the car and… aim her somewhere else. But by the time he realized what was about to happen, it was already too late. As soon as his fingers bent around the seatbelt, she upchucked into her own lap. He had managed to flip his hands up in time to catch most of it – and not-so-sneakily dump it off to the side of the daycare parking lot – but the very act of getting sick had turned the poor little girl into a wailing heap of flushed cheeks and trembling limbs. He wiped his hands on his pants with a disgusted grimace, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all, and jumped into the front seat, driving as fast as he felt safe doing to get his baby back home.

One bath and a too-long battle over children’s Tylenol later, and Lana had finally fallen asleep, giving Bucky just enough time to shower, change, and finish a load of laundry. But not five minutes after Natasha called to say she was stuck in a meeting and would be late picking her up – I’m so, sorry, James. I know you have plans and… Just tell her I’ll be there soon. – he heard the short, pathetic cries resume.

He tried to get her to the bathroom in time, but no such luck. Less than an hour before Annie was set to arrive – and she was always early for everything – and he and Lana both were covered in vomit in yet again. Not that any of that really mattered when he had his despondent little baby cradled so tightly in his arms, her steady weeping ripping through to his very soul.

“Shhh,” he tries again, patting her warm, sticky back before reaching down to open a drawer, grabbing a clean T-shirt and tossing it out onto her bed. The only light in the room is from the early evening sun filtering in through the edges of the closed blinds, and from her pale yellow monkey night lamp off in the corner. He slowly lowers himself into the old rocking chair near the door – the one that used to be his mom’s… used to be for her to soothe him and his little sister all those years ago – and hikes Lana a little further up his chest, guiding her head down to his shoulder once again. “I know, baby,” he utters absently, one hand slowly swiping along her back, the other softly petting at her sweaty hair as he begins a methodical rock. “I know. It’s okay.”

From the hall, Annie can hear his tender whispers only vaguely. But that almost makes it worse… harder to take in. The softness in his voice, the subtle desperation, not only breaks her heart, but makes her feel terribly out of place. Like an interloper in this sad, sweet moment. She finishes gathering the soiled clothes and pops them into the washing machine next to the bathroom, next to Bucky’s bedroom. The door is wide open and she chances a glance in, sees the neatly made bed, smiles softly to herself, and then realizes all at once that this may well be as close as she’ll get to that bed tonight.

She slowly saunters back to Lana’s bedroom, looming listlessly in the doorway for a moment, watching as Bucky’s hulking shoulders lean back into the small wooden spindles of the rocking chair, tiny fingers grasping at his flesh. He rocks with a slow, practiced rhythm, like he’s done this dance a hundred times before. Of course he has, she thinks to herself, rolling her eyes. He’s a father.

Tony’s words from the other day come back to her, urging her to consider whether or not getting involved with a dad might be too much. You’ll never come first, you know. The utter truth to those words, and the frightening simplicity of the all-too-obvious statement, cause her gut to clench.

He didn’t call to cancel, she reminds herself. He didn’t text to say not to come. He didn’t turn her away when she arrived either. She may be on the outside looking in at this moment in time, but at least she’s here. Can’t that be enough?

A knock at the door rips her from her reverie, her eyes shooting down the hall for a beat before veering questioningly over to Bucky. Through the dimness of the room, he locks onto her curious gaze and gives a gentle nod, a silent command – a plea – to help him out by seeing who it is.

She hurries down the hall and pulls open the door to find Steve, a sweet, almost nervous smile splitting his face when he sees her. “Hey, Annie,” he intones, stepping blithely into the apartment. He’s several paces in before he spins back to face her. “I am so sorry about this. Nat got caught up at the office… she should’ve been here an hour ago. I know you and Buck have plans.” He ducks his head meekly in apology. “He was really… excited about it.”

A fleeting trill of elation shoots up her spine – he was really excited – before swiftly flickering away. “No, no, it’s nothing,” she mutters, winding her arms tightly around her middle. “I just feel bad for Lana.” She ticks her chin towards the hall – “They’re in her bedroom.” – and heads over to the living room to start picking up, absently tidying to both pass the time and quell her nerves.

He gives a nod of thanks and disappears down the hall, breathing out a soft, “Hey there,” as he steps through the doorway to the little girl’s room.

Bucky looks up at him with weary eyes, never stopping the slow, steady rocking nor his gentle stroke up and down his daughter’s back. “Hey,” he says simply, his voice rumbling though his chest and into Lana, causing her to stir.

She rubs her face sleepily into his him, warm tears and saliva causing a slick beneath her cheek as she turns to see Steve lingering in the doorway. He ducks his head to make eye contact, offering a small, crooked smile before stepping into the room and dropping to one knee by the rocking chair. “Hey, bud,” he says, reaching out and swiping at the sweat-laden hair sticking to her forehead. He tenderly nudges it from her face, letting his thumb drift down to wipe away a thick, salty tear track. “Heard you don’t feel so good.”

The sobs had all but stopped, leaving only small moans and shuddery hiccups in their wake. But still, it seems it’s too difficult for her to speak, nothing more than a short nod and sniffle being offered to her uncle as he flattens his palm on her cheek to test her temperature.

“She puked in the car when I picked her up,” Bucky mutters, the hand atop her back now moving in a rhythmic pat to help quell her hiccups. “Got her cleaned up and into bed… then she blew again about twenty minutes ago.”

Steve cringes in a sort of awful solidarity. Then he raises a brow, teasing glint in his eye as he leans back and looks assessingly at the pair before him. “And judging from the lack of clothes, I’m guessing she nailed you?”

He releases a dejected huff. “Both times.”

A small laugh spills from his lips and he leans in close, locking onto Svetlana’s dull blue eyes. “Well, buddy, what do you say? You want me take you back to mommy’s? She should be home real soon…”

“She was supposed to be here a fucking hour ago,” Bucky seethes as he presses Lana’s head back down to the crook of his neck. He feels her hot skin slide along his and lets out a small hiss. “Probably time for more Tylenol.”

That gets a bit of a rise out of her, tiny limbs pulling together to push back on her father, form writhing as she struggles and whines out, “Nooooo,” in a hoarse, pathetic tone that very nearly breaks his heart.

He looks down at her as she pulls away, raises his brows in a listen to your father way, and says simply, “Yes.”

The tears start up again, her face twisting and reddening. And she leans further away, tilting over the arm of the chair as she reaches pitifully out for Steve. “Oh, poor baby,” he intones thickly, reaching for her as well. He easily scoops her up and out of her father’s lap, giving Bucky a shit-eating grin over the top of her head as he rises with the sweaty, crying, clingy girl in his arms.

Bucky merely gives a tired – and thoroughly annoyed – eyeroll in response. “You’re really gonna make me be the bad guy?” he asks, letting out a small, exhausted groan as he hauls himself up from the rocking chair.

He swipes the little blue T-shirt off the bed and turns to tug it on over the top of Svetlana’s head – quite a feat as she hangs onto her uncle for dear life, desperate to stay as far away from her father as possible now that he’s promised more medicine. He finally works both of her arms in and pulls the shirt down her clammy back.

“C’mon,” he sighs, side stepping Steve and heading into the kitchen, assuming he’ll follow.

Lana doesn’t see him grab the bottle of liquid Tylenol from the counter, but the moment Steve pivots to pluck her coiled form from around his chest, she senses what’s coming. And she blows a gasket, the soft, stifled cries rising quickly into vicious, ear-splitting screams.

“Baby, you’re gonna make yourself sick again,” Bucky laments loudly as he tries to speak over the shrill, deafening sobs. More than a hint of impatience spills out of him as he takes hold of her arm to keep her from turning back into Steve, tugging a bit harsher than he wants to as she continues to struggle against him. “There’s no reason to get so damn worked up.”

Steve gives her a little bounce and tries to look down at her, tries to make eye contact with the wild, thrashing creature. “C’mon, bud. You choke down some medicine now and we can have cookies back at home.”

Bucky drops her tiny arm and gives his friend an incredulous glare over the top of the little girl’s head. “You’ll regret doing that, I promise,” he tells him with a raised, warning brow.

Steve offers little more than a dismissive shrug before giving Lana a quick, tight squeeze and saying to her, “You know how mad mommy’ll be at me if I bring you home without any medicine in you?” She wildly tosses her head back and forth, a no and an I don’t care in one frantic gesture. “What if she yells at me?” he asks in an almost desperate tone. He gives her another light bounce and ducks his head to capture her gaze, offers a teasing sort of smile as he asks, “What if she hits me? You don’t want that, do you?”

Bucky snorts loudly from his side, but holds back his own sarcastic response, noting that Lana’s cries are diminishing as Steve continues to beg for her help.

“You could be saving my life, pumpkin,” he says with a thick – faux – sincerity. “Just take a teeny, tiny bit of medicine so mommy doesn’t hurt me.” A full, pouty lip juts from his face, the sides of his mouth tugging down into an overdone frown. “Please?”

She shakes her head again, a mighty pout of her own pulling across her countenance. But it’s obvious that she’s too tired to keep fighting. Finally placated by her uncle’s ridiculous pleas – and maybe a bit by a very real desire to keep him from getting in trouble – she drops her temple to his chest and looks up at her father with weary, red-rimmed eyes.

He gives her the liquid Tylenol, glides a thumb over her disgustedly pursing lips to wipe away the remnants, and bends over to drop a lingering kiss on her warm forehead… even as she whines and tries to pull away.

Steve catches the worried, sad look washing over his friend’s face as he straightens upright, his voice dropping into a low, tender tone as he tells him, “She’ll be alright.”

He nods – “Yeah, I know.” – never removing his desolate gaze from the flushed little face in front of him. “I know,” he repeats with a sigh.

“We’ll call you later to let you know how she’s doing.”

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters again, finally looking up at Steve and breathing out a long, pained sigh.

“Don’t worry,” he tries again, adding on a carefree smile for good measure. He glances over at Annie, her arms laden with the toys that she’s picked up from all over the apartment, and his grin grows wider. “You two just have fun. Really. We’ve got this.” He ducks his head, dropping his nose to Lana’s sweaty curls. “Right, buddy?”

She doesn’t respond, opting instead to tightly pinch shut her eyes and crumple her face in that way that both men recognize as near sleep. Bucky grabs the small, already packed backpack from the sofa as they head for the door, handing it over to Steve and leaning down to kiss Lana goodbye a final time. “I love you, baby,” he whispers to her, surprised when she mutters a love you back at him before twisting further into Steve’s hold and being whisked out the door.

Annie finishes depositing the toys in their rightful cubbies before turning to look at the forlorn man across the room. “I…” she stutters for a moment, eager to break the sudden, heady silence. She clears her throat and steps out from behind the couch, moving slowly towards him. “Is there anything else to throw in the wash? Her sheets, maybe?”

He turns to her – just as she sidles up next to him, her considerate words heavy on the air between them – with the most pitiful expression she’s ever seen grace that handsome face. His deep blue eyes look shadowed and hazy, dark bags already forming beneath. And his lips part just slightly, ready to talk, yet painfully silent.

She’s about to speak again, to ask if he’s alright or if he needs anything. Or – the awful words bubbling in her throat like thick bile – if he’d rather she just left.

But the moment her mouth bobs open, he lunges forward, grabbing hold of her and spinning her round, thrusting her back so that she’s pressed against the closed door. His hands grip at her biceps for just a fraction of a moment before shifting up to grab and tug and simply lose themselves in her long, thick hair. A short, strangled breath catches in her throat as their teeth slam almost violently together, lips twisting and pulling and nipping as she lets herself get lost in the desperate kiss.

Then, all at once, just as she’s about to wrap herself so completely around him – run her fingers through his hair, grip tight to his still-naked shoulders, trail her nails down his perfectly chiseled back – he pulls swiftly away. “Sorry,” spills from his lush, swollen lips as he slowly backs away, gaze averted, hand now tugging at his own hair before sliding down in his face in utter frustration. “Shit,” he groans languidly. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

She wants to say, no. To refuse his apology and tell him that there’s no reason to be sorry, no reason at all. She wants to laugh at him for thinking that something like that could ever require an apology. Hell, in this precise moment, she wants to leap forward and climb him like a fucking tree. But all she does is remain – cemented to the spot, legs now wobbly beneath her – stiffly silent as her back gathers sweat, even while firmly pressed against the cool wood of the door.

“What…” he sputters out amid a crazed sort of laugh. He tugs at his hair again, looks up at her with wild, almost startled eyes. “What the fuck are we doing?”

A loud click reverberates between them as Annie finally slams her gaping mouth shut, teeth clanging together. His expression shifts, just a bit, changing from manic and alarmed to… amused. “I think we were… kissing,” she utters, almost a question.

And he can’t help but laugh. “Yeah,” he breathes out languidly, shaking his head as he does so. “Yeah.”

She steps forward, finally finding her legs – though, admittedly, they’re still more than a bit shaky – and blurts out, “Do you need help?” a little more enthusiastically than intended. “I mean… cleaning up… or…”

He waves an absent hand through the air, avoiding her gaze once again. “No, doll,” he intones gently. “No, I got it.”

“I really don’t mind,” she says, sidestepping him and moving into the kitchen, her entire body buzzing as she flits around, putting things away – Tylenol, cereal, a container of Pedialyte – not even registering the fact that she somehow seems to know just where everything goes. There are a handful of dishes in the sink, soaking in now-cold, sudsy water, and she flips on the faucet to begin finishing them up, reaching out for a sponge on the side of the sink before having her hand stilled by his. A small gasp escapes her as he moves closer, presses his chest into her back, leaning forward enough to pin her hips between the sink and his warm, muscular frame.

“Don’t,” he whispers into her hair as his wide-open palm stretches over the back of her hand. His fingers wind with hers, knocking the sponge loose as he reaches around from the other side to turn off the water. He pulls her hand to her side, wrapping both of their arms across her middle, his left dropping to almost violently grip the edge of the sink. She stills before him – beneath him – feels his hips press her further into the counter, a dull pressure building in her abdomen. His forehead drops to the base of her skull, his breath hot on her neck and back, seeping through her hair, as he utters again, “Don’t.”

“Bucky,” she chokes out, his name catching in her chest.

He holds her close for just a moment more, tightening his arm around her middle, stepping close enough that she can feel him growing hard as he continues to press firmly into her. He nuzzles at her hair, breaks through the thick, dark curtain with his nose and lazily trails several soft kisses along the ridge of her spine… up and down the center of her neck. Then he lets out a long, deep breath and simply steps away.

The moment he moves, she’s left feeling cold, the sudden absence of warmth at her back sending a swift shiver throughout her body. She spins to look at him, sees him once again run a nervous hand through his hair, a sheepish flush blooming on his cheeks. “You’re not going to apologize again, are you?” she asks, somehow managing to level her voice and raise a teasing brow despite the lightheaded thrill that still pulsates through her.

“No,” he chuckles. Then with a shrug. “Maybe.” He looks up at her, locks his bright blue eyes onto hers and shakes his head slowly… regretfully. “This isn’t how I wanted tonight to go.”

She steps forward – just a bit, nervous hesitation stunting her movements – and she asks, “Isn’t tonight just starting?”

“Annie,” rumbles out of him, equal parts longing and chiding. “You’re probably gonna get sick just being here.” He too takes a halting step forward, just close enough that he’s able to reach out and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want you to get sick, doll.”

“I don’t really want that either, but…” She gives a casual shrug. “I’ve already been exposed, so…”

A crooked smile splits his face, head ducking almost bashfully for a moment. “This kind of thing,” he mutters, shaking his head once more, “it happens, you know? It happens a lot. Kids get sick. Or hurt. Or they… throw tantrums. And they… ruin plans.” He sighs, lets out the smallest chuckle, and steps back to lean into the refrigerator… to lean away from her.

“Are you saying our plans are… ruined?” she asks, more of a bite to her words than intended.

He raises his brows and lets out a long sigh. “You gonna tell me all of this gets you in the mood?”

“Not this,” she blurts out fervently. “But…” She waves a hand out in front of her, gesturing vaguely at him… at his shirtless, beautiful body. And at the hardened length still swelling in his jeans.

He lets out a small laugh before letting his gaze simply linger on her face, on the bright blush still coating her cheeks, washing over those beautiful dimples. But he doesn’t step closer, nor does he reach out.

The longer he lingers – still and silent – the easier it becomes for her to see that, as much as he seems to be struggling to tear his eyes away from her, he’s not planning on approaching her again. Bitter frustration roils in her gut and a low groan slips from her lips as her eyes roll dramatically back, an irritated expression designed to mask her absolute disappointment.

He blows a tired breath out of his nose, nostrils flaring as he finally forces himself to pull his gaze away from her, directing it to the floor, back to the other room, to his hands as they nervously fist and knot in front in of him. Anywhere but her. “This is so… stupid,” he mutters, annoyance leaking from the words. “I mean… we shouldn’t have to have this conversation now. Not now… when we’ve only been on a handful of dates… fuck,” he chokes out. “We haven’t even fucked.”

Her lips split open, ready to speak, but it takes a moment for her to form the words, mouth bobbing aimlessly as she shoves down the response of, we could just take care of that last part now. Instead her brows twist curiously together, head cocking confusedly to the side as she asks simply, “What conversation?”

He finally looks back at her, but his expression is so dramatically changed, eyes no longer hooded with lust, but darkened with a sort of profound sobriety. “Kids,” he bleats out with a shrug, unfolding his hands and shoving them into his pockets as he goes on to ask, “Do you want kids?”

“Well, yeah,” she breathes out easily, puzzlement still painting her face.

“Now?” he asks, raising a brow to drive home his point.

She doesn’t respond, not immediately anyway, because truthfully the answer is no. Of course she doesn’t want kids right now. She’s just getting started in her career. She only just met him. It would be crazy. But isn’t it also a little bit crazy to be asking her that right now? To be asking… like this?

Her face slowly hardens, eyes narrowing a bit as a wave of involuntary anger rolls over her. “Are you asking me if I want to be Lana’s mother?” she asks, tone drenched in sarcasm. “Because I thought Natasha already had that covered.”

“I’m being serious,” he tells her in a deep-set tone to match his words.

Her hands drop to her hips, a brutally defiant stance – which, admittedly, she rarely wears – popping out full force. “So am I.” He rolls his eyes in annoyance, and the flippant gesture sets her blood to boil. “What? I can’t be with you if I’m not willing to be a mother right away?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Did you ask Steve if he was willing to be a father?” She shoots back, the words spilling out of her before she gets a chance to think them through. “Because I was under the impression that you were pissed as hell with him for just trying to be!”

“I’m not…” he sputters before pinching his lips firmly shut, a look of pure annoyance settling over his now stern face. “He’s being a parent right now, whether he wants to be or not. Because he has no choice. If you live with a kid…”

“I didn’t realize we were that serious,” she snipes. “Are you asking me to move in?”

“Damn it, Annie, I’m trying to… I just want to…”

“Have that conversation,” she finishes for him, no question to her voice.

“Yes!” he exclaims, pushing off the fridge and pulling up to his full height – shoulders stiffly set – as he stares down at her. “Is that so wrong?!”

“Okay, fine. Let’s do it,” she nearly snarls at him. “How ‘bout you?” A single, questioning brow rises high, her voice shifting into a mocking tone. “Do you want more kids?”

A startled silence fills the room, Bucky’s face taking on a lost quality for a long moment before pinching tight, his posture slumping as he breathes out, “I… I don’t know.”

“Oh,” she intones with a self-satisfied smirk. “You don’t know? Or maybe you just haven’t thought about it, and now you’re being put on the spot in the middle of a… heated discussion? Are you finding that these sorts of questions are difficult to answer?” Her head cocks to the side, faux-sincere frown pulling as she goes on to ask, “Maybe a little unfair?”

“Yeah. I get it,” he spits out. “I’m just trying to explain…”

“Bucky,” she sighs in frustration. “I’m not an idiot. I know that getting involved with someone who has a kid means a whole… plethora of other things. Other responsibilities. And… annoyances. And the truth is, this conversation… these questions… they’re important. I know that. But…” Her shoulders bounce up and down in a sort of desperate shrug. “I don’t know what you want from me here. I… I like you. And I like Lana. And I am… willing…”

His own shoulders drop, the righteous air being swiftly taken from his sails. “I just don’t want…” He looks up at her and smiles… a sad, distressed smile. “I really like you,” he admits, the words tumbling out in a single, low breath. “But if this isn’t gonna work… if you can’t…” His head once again begins that slow, deliberate pivot to-and-fro.

She steps closer, hands finally falling from their stiff posture at her hips. “Have I made it seem like I can’t?” she asks, taking another small step towards him. “Or like I don’t want to try?”

“No,” he mutters softly. “But… it’s a lot.”

She shrugs, “Maybe,” she admits, pulling up closer and issuing out, voice breathy and low, “But maybe I think you’re worth the trouble.”

He glances up to find her mere inches from him, “Annie,” falling from his lips in a coy sort of warning.

She leans closer, her breath hot on his skin, nose grazing his stubbled cheek. “I know you had a really rough day, Buck,” she intones, barely a whisper. “But Lana’s okay with Steve and her mom. And you… you’re okay here with me.”

He pulls back a bit, looks down at her with questioning – imploring – eyes. The way she gazes back up at him – full of reassurance and comfort and… certainty – sets his heart to stutter, causes his breath to catch in his chest.

“Fuck,” he mutters vaguely, the single, heady word echoing thickly in his own ears, voicing his trepidation, covering his excitement. He reaches up to take hold of her face, both palms pressing into her still-burning cheeks, thumbs dipping briefly into those perfect dimples as her growing smile presses into him. “Fuck,” he repeats with a chuckle before dropping his lips to hers and letting himself simply… fall.

[edsbrak]

sixteen weeks (chapter 6)

pairing: reddie, side eddie/omc chapters: 6/? rating: explicit tags: college AU, FWB

read on Ao3

Summary: Eddie and Richie are roommates in college, and after the events of one drunken confession they both agree it wouldn’t hurt to start casually hooking-up. Things go about as well as expected.

warnings: still none, lmao, just Richie being Richie

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

*

In the week following their first date, Eddie had been texting Jacob back and forth a good handful of times a day. It turns out he was as easy to talk to both in person and over text. In past experiences, Eddie had dated guys who tended to be either or, and there was nothing more off putting than someone who couldn't hold a conversation, no matter how hot they were.

On day four of their flirt-texting, Eddie had arranged for them to meet up for date number two. For lack of better planning, Eddie suggested the movies, but he'd also wanted to see the movie Get Out for a while now, so he figured, why not kill two birds with one stone? (These days he tries to never use that analogy around Stan).

Jacob looked as handsome as ever as he waited outside the cinema for him. He'd given Eddie another light kiss to his cheek in greeting, to which Eddie flushed greatly and pushed them both inside to reach the air-con and escape the blistering heat of outside, obviously.

And once again, Jacob insisted on paying for their tickets and also for snacks, but Eddie had stopped him part-way to the candy bar with a lip-biting smile.

“I actually bring my own food,” he merely stage whispers, because everyone knows people sneak stuff into the movies regardless of the rules and most staff members couldn’t care less. He opens up his satchel and shows Jacob a hoard of food, ranging from an apple to liquorice to Pringles. Jacob quirks a brow at him before smiling. “What?”

“You are so damn cute,” Jacob laughs kindly. Eddie looks down bashfully before taking it in stride.

“Which would you like? Take your pick.”

Jacob reaches for the apple and throws it up in the air before catching it. “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” he winks. Eddie thinks he might be a little bit in love already.

The theatre isn't too packed and they find a nice spot up the back, and Eddie isn't even concerned with back row make-outs because he becomes so damn engrossed in the movie to even remember that sometimes happens on dates. Jacob doesn't seem bothered though, and is content with just resting his arm over the back of Eddie's chair. Eddie does lean into his body more at some point, and the contact is enough to have him smiling in the dark like a love-struck teenager.

The sun was setting in a beautiful orange when they leave the cinema, and Jacob suggests they take a walk down buy the torrens. Eddie fills up a lot of the conversation about the movie and how incredible it was. Jacob barely gets a word in, but appears to enjoy Eddie's ramblings nonetheless.

“Ah, sorry, shit. I'm talking too much,” Eddie stops to apologise.

“No, no,” Jacob assures him with a raised hand. “I love it when people are passionate about things. Makes for interesting conversations.”

Eddie holds onto his satchel strap and proudly smiles head-on. A ping echoes from one of the smaller pockets of his bag, and Eddie makes an apologetic gesture to Jacob before retrieving his phone and swiping it open.

hows it go with mr perfect??

Eddie debates just saving his answer for when he'll see Richie later, but a bigger part of his wants to gush, badly. He begins to type without another thought.

Really good. I swear, it's like the God's heard my plea and sent him down from heaven just for me.

He watches it send off with a woosh and is about to put it away so as not to appear rude in front of Jacob, but Richie replies almost immediately.

if hes ur angel, I can be ur devil, baby

Eddie scowls at his phone, hoping by pure wavelengths alone Richie will be able to feel it. He texts a final See you later, weirdo before returning his full attention back to a patiently waiting Jacob. At some point on the walk, Jacob's hand finds his under the now darkening sky, and Eddie couldn't be happier than where he is right now.

*

He and Jacob continue to text daily after their second (and successful, Eddie would add) date flew by. Finals were now over, and Eddie felt as though he could breathe properly again. It was a weight off his shoulders he was glad to be rid of, and with that knowledge, he could undoubtedly put more energy into seeing Jacob more now that he didn’t have to be married to his textbooks.

Because he and Jacob had yet to actually kiss, on the mouth, and Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of that.

He figured it was normal. Not everyone had to rush into these things, right? They’d only been on two dates so far, and Jacob still appeared very interested, so Eddie had no real reason to worry, right? Right. But that still didn’t stop him from imagining quite frequently what Jacob’s lips would feel like against his own. Would they be rough, insistent? Would he cradle Eddie’s face as he did it? Would he gently nip at Eddie’s lips before slowly dipping his tongue inside—

“Hey, Spaghetti Man.”

And of course, the illusion is shattered by none other than Richie Tozier.

“What?” Eddie almost snaps, coming down off the high that was his imagination at its best.

“Damn,” Richie grins. “Jacob still hasn’t given you any, huh? He’s got you all tense.” he says this as he pokes Eddie’s side, fingernail sharp.

“Are you always this interested in the sex lives of people you’re not a part of?” Eddie asks the ceiling.

“Absolutely, it’s what keeps me going,” Richie says as he rummages through some drawers to find something. Eventually he retrieves a new lighter and pockets it. “Nah, I’m just kidding, sort of. Have you at least swapped spit yet?”

Richie, for all he appears to be on the surface, sometimes displays a keen sense into what people are thinking. It scares Eddie, just a little bit. Should he even tell Richie the truth? Or would he simply bug Eddie more on the lack of sexual prowess in his dating life? With a small sigh he finally concedes, mostly from the need to just tell someone about his minor and most likely pointless worries.

“No, we haven’t…” Eddie starts as he exhales air louder than usual. “I know everyone is different, maybe he’s just shy…”

“Wait, wait,” Richie interrupts. He picks up Eddie’s phone and tosses it to him. “I need to see a pic.”

Eddie eyes him. “Really? You’re not just gonna stalk him after?”

“You really need to chill,” Richie laughs and jerks his head towards Eddie’s phone again. “C’mon, if I see his eyes, I can tell you exactly what he’s thinking.”

“I can’t believe this…” Eddie mumbles but complies to Richie’s less-than-ideal demands anyway. He had added Jacob to Facebook right after their second date, for whenever Eddie hated to use up all of his talk and text data. He pulls up Jacob’s profile and hesitantly shows it to Richie.

Richie whistles lowly. “Damn, he looks tall. Is he tall? Taller than me?”

“Maybe slightly,” Eddie smirks marginally, knowing it will probably irk Richie to an extent. He watches him closely, waiting for what, exactly? He didn’t know, but perhaps he was slightly on edge about what Richie might say. He’s swiping through more photos from the looks of it, and Eddie swallows the urge to ask for his phone back.

“Do you think it’s me? Am I putting something out there that somehow conveys I don’t want him to kiss me?” Eddie asks when Richie is quiet for too long.

“Maybe you’ve got bad breath,” Richie offers. Eddie kicks at his shin lightly. “Alright, alright. I’m sure it’s nothing, Eds. Maybe he’s got a three date rule or something.”

“What if it’s some Barney Stinson level ploy?” Eddie throws in, mostly joking.

“Nah,” Richie says with a shake of his head. “I went out with a guy once who didn’t wanna do anything until a few hangs. Sometimes people need intimacy before they can get off. It’s normal.”

“Huh…��� Eddie pauses, thinking that option over. He knew all of that well and good, that sometimes a relationship needs to grow before anything else can happen. The guy didn’t seem to have a problem with showing affection, but maybe Jacob was just as apprehensive about putting himself out there, just like Eddie. Maybe this was a good thing. “I guess that might be possible…”

“I mean, don’t take my word for it. Unless I’m right, then I will take full credit,” Richie says and finally hands him back his phone. “You’re hot, Eds. It’d be weird if he weren’t attracted to you.”

Eddie can’t deny the hot flush to his cheeks from Richie’s blatancy. Ever since they’ve stopped sleeping together, Eddie has noticed how increasingly vocal Richie is about his physical appearance. To any outsider, Richie’s crass personality was a lot to endure when first encountered, but as it turned out, once you slept with him and actually started to get to know him, those traits tended to gradually become white noise. It was just who Richie was, so Eddie has begrudgingly accepted his fate.

“It’s strange when you’re actually helpful sometimes,” Eddie says teasingly.

“Well, I was due,” Richie shrugs. “I mean, who knows, maybe the guy’s got a tiny dick and he’s just pampering you up so the reveal isn’t as disappointing.”

“Aaand there it is,” Eddie drawls. “Y’know, after removing the sex portion of this friendship, it’s really quite a burden being around you.” Eddie hopes it’s not too mean, but Richie was the king of trash talk. God, he was definitely rubbing off on Eddie.

“Hey, I’ll have you know it’s totally possible to be friends with me without having sex involved.”

Eddie raises both brows in surprise. He’s not sure whether to make a comment on that little claim, or to save it for another time. Or maybe he was simply reading into it and Richie was joking.

“Also, you just admitted to being my friend,” Richie grins manically after some moments pass. Eddie feels his face twist up, not knowing if he should quickly correct himself. But then Richie steps over so he can pull Eddie into a bone-crushing bear hug. “Hello, my friend whom I used to dick into unadulterated ecstasy.”

Eddie grumbles under his breath as he waits for Richie to be done. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“No?” Richie pulls back on a pout. “Damn, I gotta work on some new material. Clearly my performances aren’t up to scratch, then.”

Eddie refuses to tell Richie that he is, in fact, very good at what he does. The guy didn’t need any more ego boosting.

“Can you write up a review for me, and don’t skimp on the details, okay? Richie Jr always has room to improve.”

Eddie sighs like he’s suffering multiple stab wounds. “I miss Jacob.”

*

So he and Jacob decide to meet up again later in the week.

Eddie would have liked to meet up sooner, but Jacob says he had to help his friend move out of their apartment that week, so it would be best to leave date number three for the beginning of the weekend. Eddie can’t help but fidget from the possibility of Richie being right. A whole weekend to themselves, in Jacob’s now empty apartment? Oh boy, yeah. He was definitely getting some soon and that fact was not lost on him at all.

But he really had no reason to complain. He’d been regularly getting some since his and Richie’s agreement all those weeks ago. It’s not like Eddie was starved for physical affection. But he was starved for affection from someone who actually liked him romantically. That was a whole other ballgame entirely.

He’s almost forgotten what that’s like – to share a bed with someone you might be able to picture seeing yourself with further down the line. The thought has him smiling.

“What’s got you all smiley over there, huh?” Bev asks and throws a chip towards Eddie’s head.

They were all sprawled out across Bev and Ben’s shared dorm room on Wednesday night. It had been dubbed a ‘cool down’ hang by Ben, mostly consisting of eating whatever shit they felt like as movie after movie played unnoticed on their small TV. Everyone was mostly too tired to care, with the events of the past school year finally catching up and rendering them into mindless zombies. Eddie has his legs thrown atop Richie’s lap, while Richie had his head back as he released a cloud of smoke into the air from his cig. Don’t worry; they had windows open and several cans of Febreze at the ready.

“He’s gay – he’s thinking about dick, duh,” says Richie helpfully. And he’s not wrong, Eddie muses.

“Are you?” Stan asks. He’s the only one still with books out as he sits on the ground next to the coffee table. Eddie doesn’t know if Stan is even human.

“Hmm, yeah, I am,” Eddie says. He’s gotten abnormally comfortable with these people faster than he thought he would. “Also love, too. Love makes the world go around, right?”

“Oh, love?” Bev says. She sits up straight from where she was leaning against Ben, a gleam in her eyes.

“Please, don’t start that again,” Richie says.

Bev grins. “All you need is love.”

“But a girl has got to eat,” Richie says, clearly now imitating someone.

“All you need is love,” Bev sings, getting louder as she stands up on the couch.

“She’ll end up on the street!” Richie says back, and Eddie is very confused at this point. None of the others appear to be, though, as Stan and Ben ignore them.

“All you need is love,” Bev sings again, drawing out each word in an intoxicating melody.

“Love is just a game, toots,” Richie blows her a kiss.

“Um, what?” Eddie asks them both.

“Moulin Rouge?” Bev says to him, not really a question. Eddie shrugs his shoulders. Bev and Richie share a look and then just like that Bev is jumping down from the couch and rushing into her room.

“Oh, now you’ve done it,” Stan says, completely monotone.

“What?” Eddie looks around him before landing on Richie. “What have I done?”

And before Richie can answer, Bev is back and carrying a DVD case with her. “We’re going to watch Moulin Rouge, baby, for you are uneducated and we need to rectify that, immediately.” She says all of this while pointing at Eddie and putting in the DVD without so much as looking at the buttons.

There are still many questions going unanswered here. “Oh, okay. So we’re doing this? Alright then,” Eddie says to no one in particular.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this,” Richie whispers as the opening shots of Paris fill up the screen.

“So?” Eddie settles back down to get more comfy. Richie ends up using Eddie’s legs to rest his arms on. The room is kind of hot but Eddie figures he’ll just power through it. “There are heaps of movies I’ve never seen. Casa-bla-bla-whatever, never seen it. Pulp Fiction? Nada. Avatar, the highest grossing film ever, and I will never care to see what Pandora actually looks like.”

Richie appears to bite his lip, either holding back a scolding or a smile, Eddie doesn’t know. “How are you real?” he eventually says, and again, Eddie isn’t sure if it’s an endearment or an insult.

“Alright, shush everyone. Eddie, this is one of the greatest soundtracks ever and I need the sweet sound of Ewan to blow your mind away, okay?” Bev says and turns the volume up.

“Okay,” Eddie agrees, because he seems to have no other choice.

*

When the movie is over, Eddie finds himself with unshed tears in his eyes, staring blankly at the screen before it returns to the menu.

“That…” Eddie sniffles, somewhat dramatically. “That was amazing. Oh my god, it’s not fair. Their love toppled Titanic’s by a mile.”

“Hey, don’t let Leo hear you say that,” Richie teases as he lifts Eddie so he’s half in his lap like a baby to coddle. Eddie goes somewhat willingly, still reeling from the love that could never be.

“See? I knew you’d love it,” Bev gushes. Ben and Stan had moved around a lot during the film, and Eddie figures they’ve both been forced to watch it multiple times before and now have free reign to skip it.

“Yeah, it was… good,” Eddie says lamely. Richie snickers into his hair. Eddie suddenly wants that – that all encompassing love to share with someone. God, wouldn’t that be nice.

“He has been converted. My job here is done,” Bev nods.

Eddie smiles at her. And then he remembers- “Hey, you guys?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you all like to meet my other friends, Bill and Mike? Maybe sometime next week, maybe? Before everyone officially leaves for summer break…” Eddie ventures, subconsciously settling back into Richie and feeling him pinch Eddie’s leg.

“Hey, yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Bev says, and Ben and Stan announce their agreements from across the room where they’re currently playing Chinese checkers, it seems.

“Oh, cool,” Eddie says. “They have their own place, so we could all go there? Mike is of age so he can actually buy us drinks.”

“Hell yeah, I like him already,” Richie says.

Eddie retrieves his phone from his pocket and pulls up his conversation with Mike. “I’ll let them know. Just a heads up, they’ll probably want to adopt you all and feed you kale smoothies or something.”

“That’s the opposite of a problem,” Bev says before patting her stomach. “Lord knows I need some green in me.”

“Why is it the first thing I think of is the Grinch giving it to you doggy style?” Richie says.

“What the fuck?” Eddie sputters.

“Richie, you’re such a turd, oh my god,” Ben calls over. “Also, stop picturing my girlfriend having sex, thank you. If you’re gonna do that then at least include me in the background handing out mints or something.”

Bev is uncontrollably laughing at this point, and soon enough Eddie finds it’s hard not to catch the giggles too. Stan says something about needing new friends.

*

Now that finals were over, Eddie has been dreading the day for when his mother will make her scheduled call to ask him when he’s coming home.

There’s really no where else for him to go, unless Mike and Bill don’t care for him to crash at their place for months on end. Although, Eddie would rather not have to suffer through hearing their loud as shit sex through the walls anymore. Speaking of sex, he hasn’t responded to Jacob’s last text, since he was ducking into the shower earlier when it came through.

Hey, would you want to go out tomorrow night? I figure since it’s the weekend now..

Before he gets a chance to chicken out, he sends it and locks his phone like it was on fire. Now bored, he looks over at Richie reading a volume of One Piece on his bed. Eddie bites his lip in contemplation.

“So… I asked Jacob out tomorrow…”

Richie turns a page. “Yeah, and?”

Eddie narrows his eyes. He knows Richie is fucking with him. “And… I need your help… again.”

Richie raises the book higher, probably to hide his grin. Eddie makes a frustrated sound and Richie finally acknowledges him.

“Eds,” he leans forward and cock his head. “Just be yourself, yeah? Or, you could just do what you did with me.”

“Huh?”

“Y’know,” Richie waves a hand around flippantly. “Get totally shitfaced before asking me to put my dick in ya. People appreciate bluntness.”

Eddie laughs despite himself. Suddenly, his ringtone echoes throughout the room, and simultaneously both boys turn to look at it. Eddie draws in a breath before flipping it over to see the caller. It’s just his mum. Dammit.

“Hi, ma,” Eddie says quietly.

“Eddie,” his mother replies curtly. She’s never one for small talk. “When are you coming home?”

Eddie closes his eyes. “Soon. In a week. I just have a few shifts left at work to cover. I’ll be done by Wednesday.”

“Okay,” Sonia says. If there’s one thing Sonia will not protest to it’s Eddie’s job. “I will drive down and pick you up. Have all of your stuff ready, okay?”

“Yes ma,” Eddie says, nodding despite her not seeing.

“Okay. Kisses.”

And then she was gone.

Eddie releases a deep sigh and shakes it out. Richie is watching him closely.

“Overbearing mum?” he asks.

“Kind of,” Eddie says lowly. “Also detached mum. Judgmental mum. Doesn’t really understand me mum and doesn’t want to.”

“Hmm,” Richie looks at his lap. Eddie’s phone pings.

Hey! I’d love to see you tomorrow! What time?

And the text should have Eddie feeling good; should have him feeling excited. But like a lingering slap she won’t leave his mind, and suddenly scenarios of Jacob meeting his mother manifest and he can’t help but feel remnants of his mother’s shame crawl up his throat and sink their claws into him. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and he looks up to see Richie giving him a small smile. He doesn’t say anything, but Eddie understands. He begins to type.

How about 7? Maybe at your place, actually? We can just hang? :)

Eddie holds his breath as he waits for Jacob’s response.

Good idea! Having a quiet night in sounds pretty good right now. X

Eddie laughs, feeling tingly all over. “He added a fucking ‘x’. Oh man.”

Richie punches his shoulder lightly. “See? Honesty is key.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie mumbles. It was Thursday now, so he just had to make it through one more day.

*

Jacob’s place really was quite sparse now that his roommate has moved out.

Eddie leaves his bag near the front door, its contents including his toothbrush and a spare pair of boxers. Just in case, obviously.

“What would you like to do?” Jacob asks. It sounds casual enough at this point in time, so Eddie figures maybe later things will get a chance to heat up. “Luckily the TV is mine, and the couch, or else we’d be left with just Spongebob Monopoly.”

Eddie laughs. “I love Monopoly. We could play that?”

Jacob grins. “Really? I hear it tears families apart; marriages have ended.”

“Well, good thing we’re not married then, huh?” Eddie asks. It wasn’t meant to sound suggestive, but it sure comes out that way. A spark flashes across Jacob’s eyes.

So Jacob leaves to get the game while Eddie grabs himself a glass of water after Jacob tells him where the cups have moved to. He downs the entire glass before smoothing out his pants, and walks back into the living area to help Jacob set it all up. Eddie insists on being banker, claiming it’s his birth right. Jacob makes no protests and chooses the thimble as his piece, but then places the hat on top of it.

“It’s Thimblana Jones,” he explains. “I did it all the time when I was a kid.”

“You dork,” Eddie snorts. “But, fair. Harrison Ford was a looking back then.”

“Definitely,” Jacob says, not taking his eyes off Eddie. Eddie feels his heart rate getting louder.

So they play the game, mostly goofing off with it at first, only as more and more properties were being bought Eddie can’t help it when his competitive side shows through. He hoards all of the cheaper sets, so he can get hotels on the board quicker. An hour passes by and things were already heating up. Playing with just two people was a lot better than, say, five, since he never has to wait long to make his strike.

“Ha!” Eddie yells triumphantly when Jacob lands on a hotel for the second time in a row. “Pay up, sucker.”

“Oh man,” Jacob groans as he goes through his rapidly disappearing money pile. “Are you sure there isn’t some…” he pauses for effect as he looks at Eddie. “… other way I can pay it off?”

Eddie flushes, hard. Why was flirting so fucking great?

“Perhaps…” he says with purpose. There was something buzzing between them, something palpable. It was sending shivers down Eddie’s spine. “What were you thinking, exactly…?”

Jacob pretends to think it over, now looking down at the board. He ends up flicking one of Eddie’s hotels and it clatters away on the floor like the final pin dropping.

“How dare you,” Eddie says, not even caring.

Jacob smiles, his eyes landing on Eddie’s lips. “Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

Eddie can feel his insides quaking. This was it – this was the moment.

So with determination he slides the game out of his way, and with a shallow breath he slowly begins to crawl forward until he’s in Jacob’s space. Jacob’s hand finds its way into Eddie’s curls, their noses almost touching, and Eddie hasn’t felt this scared and excited for something in a while.

“Pay up,” he whispers between them.

“With pleasure,” is all Jacob says before he’s lifting Eddie into his lap and slotting their mouths together.

Eddie moans instantly, his hands shaking and pulse racing as the feeling of being wanted envelops him like a warm greeting.

They part long enough to begin removing clothes as they walk the short walk to Jacob’s bedroom, and Eddie grins with the resolute closing of the door behind them.

Who’d have thought all it took was a game of Monopoly?

*

tag list: (message me if you wanna be added) xx

@sleepykaspbrak @richietoaster @reddietofall @michiyo-onosaka @hufflepuffkaspbrak @babybyelers @alrightbluer @wintersember @lolahood @r-richie @s-s-georgie @multishippinghoe @richie-kaspbrakk @colorful-dodie @not-reddie @80sdenbrough @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @musicalsaftermusicals @lonewolfhard @edstozler @nintxndos @loverboykaspbrak @s-s-stutteringbill @tozier-boy @its-stranger-than-you-think @welctothelosersclub @hemmotional–wreck @eddierichietozier @theemilyxx @spacedouthomo @burymestanding @youvegotdirtonyournosebytheway @im-reddie @hoteltozier @angeleddie @reddie-brasil @harringrovesucks @claryvoyantfray @aaliyahkiyomi @thehungpermaze-divergments @sugarpiehunnybitch @richie-kaspbrakk @frustratedstozier 

[prettywitchiusaka]

FMA Fanfic: I’ve Been Told I’m A Great Kisser

Just a quick story I came up with a few weeks ago, and just finished up. And with it being FMA Day and all, what better time to post it. Enjoy!

I’ve Been Told I’m A Great Kisser

by Prettywitchiusaka

"Come on," Roy Mustang cursed internally. It'd taken him only thirty minutes to carve this little transmutation circle into the handcuffs that were currently binding his wrists, so why was it taking him forever to carve in the last little line that he needed?

Though the more Roy thought about it, the more he realized it was probably frustration that was slowing him down. It made sense, really; he hadn't been expecting this to happen.

He'd work so hard to get this assignment, even beating out his superior, General Hakuro for the position, something he was quite proud of.

Of course, that was just icing on the cake. The real reward would actually be completing the mission; protecting the Amestris Ambassador during a peace conference in the neighbouring country of Drachma.

Not an easy task, to be sure, but the Colonel and his team were confident that they were up to the task. And besides, it would mean another job well done to add to his military record if things went smoothly.

And for the first little while, they did. Roy hit it off with the Ambassador and the negotiations were both hostile and tedious, but he'd counted on that.

What he didn't count on was a group of anarchistic rebels kidnapping both him, and the Ambassador to drive a further wedge between the two countries.

Of course, Roy was confident his men would come to rescue them. But in the meantime, he decided to at least try and get himself free, which is why he'd started carving a circle into the dark metal.

There was just one, tiny problem; there was a guard in the room with him. A young, buxom woman who appeared to be at least in her mid-twenties. Although you would never know that from the way she was dressed.

She looked like a teenager, with her long pigtails that went down to her shoulders. And that wasn't even counting the outfit she was wearing.

Red boobtop, a black miniskirt that reached mid-thigh, and black boots that went up to her knees. It was really skimpy.

Not that Roy really cared, though. Sure, Drachma was cold and snowy, but the base itself was well ventilated so she could dress however she pleased.

And besides, he'd seen sluttier outfits from some of the women he'd dated, so her outfit didn't bother him.

What was bothering him was how brain numbingly stupid this woman seemed to be!

When the henchwoman first came into the room, she'd insisted on staying inside to keep an eye on the prisoner. This level of competence had impressed Roy initially, at least until he realized she going to just stand there and stare at the door. What was even the point, he thought?

Well, whatever. As long as he could escape, that's all that mattered to him at this point.

So, Roy continued carving in the last line on the transmutation circle. Being the Flame Alchemist, he would've preferred using it to melt the metal cufflinks. But with his extra pair of ignition gloves stowed away in his breast pocket, he was forced to use a broken piece of chain dangling right next to him.

Honestly, he couldn't help but smirk; just a few more minutes and he could bust out of here.

Of course, the guard had to choose this moment look at him again, meaning he had to stop. Roy growled. "Is something wrong?"

"No, just making sure you're not doing anything stupid!" she replied.

The Colonel rolled his eyes, honestly how dumb was this woman? That is until he noticed her taking a not so subtle peak at him.

She'd been doing that a lot, he realized. Taking quick peaks at him like some girl eyeing a cute boy she saw at a coffee shop.

But why, though? Was she smarter than he thought? No, that wasn't it. If that was true than she would've been keeping an eye on him at all times.

So what is it then? Why did she keep sneaking a peak at him like she was checking him-

Oh…That's what it was.

Realizing that, the Colonel couldn't help but smirk. He should have known. After all, no sane woman could resist the Mustang charm. Perhaps he could take advantage of it. Why not? He was going to need some kind of distraction if he wanted to finish this circle anytime soon.

So with a smirk on his face, he started looking up at her legs. Which admittedly, was the only feature of hers he found attractive.

"You know," he said. "I never noticed this but you've got a great pair of legs."

Surprised, the henchwoman turned to face him with a look of suspicion. "Yeah. So?" she asked.

"Aren't I allowed to have an opinion?"

Her eyes widened. "No, that's not it-"

"So then what's the issue?"

"No-Nothing! Nothing at all!"

The whole time, he could see the blush forming on her cheeks. And that was before she looked away, now her blush was even more noticeable. Roy chuckled; looks like everything was going according to plan.

"Oh, I get it. You're attracted to me, aren't you?"

She whipped her face back to face him. "What!? N-No! That's not it!"

"Oh, come on. I saw the way you were looking at me," he said with a smile. "It's pretty obvious you'd like to have a shot at me…"

The henchwoman placed her arms behind her back and stared at the ground, her cheeks becoming redder by the second. "Well, you are kinda hot," she said.

"You wouldn't be the first woman to say that."

"Oh, yeah…I guess so…"

Roy smiled as he continued staring at the young woman. Phase one was complete; he'd gotten her to admit she liked him. Not that that was hard, or anything.

Now he was ready for the next part of his plan; flattery.

"You're not so bad looking, yourself, you know?"

She looked up at him with wide eyes. "Really?"

"Well, why not?" he asked with a shrug. "You have the most beautiful blonde hair…and with the most intriguing eyes, as well…"

That wasn't a complete lie. Her hair was a nice platinum blonde, it just wasn't the lovely shade of golden blonde that he preferred. But her eyes were intriguing, he thought. Not only were they big and coloured amber, they were also extremely expressive. Probably an indication of her youth, but they reminded him of another woman with expressive amber eyes that struck his fancy.

"Oh stop."

"No, really. You're actually pretty cute, you should be proud of that."

"Thank you…," she said.

Roy smiled when he saw the dreamy look on her face. "Perfect," he thought. In no time at all, he had her wrapped around his finger. Now he just needed to go in for the kill.

So, he let out a sigh and said "It's too bad I probably won't live much longer." The henchwoman gasped. "And to think, I had a date tonight, too…"

"Oh yeah, that's too bad."

The Colonel was pleased, she actually felt sorry for him. It made him smile.

"Maybe you could be my last kiss?"

A big smile formed on her face. "Really!?" she asked. True, she'd never had much success with men. But now some cute guy was asking her to be his last kiss? It was really intriguing to her. At least for a few seconds. Now she wasn't so sure as she thought over it some more.

"Oh, I don't know…," she said. "I mean…what if you're not good?"

"I highly doubt that. I've been told that I'm a great kisser."

"Really?"

"Do I look like I've never been with a woman, before?"

She shook her head quickly, making him chuckle. She was honestly really cute, it almost made him feel bad for manipulating her the way he was. Almost.

As of now, the Colonel had her right where he wanted her. So, he turned his smirk all the way up to lady killer and looked into her eyes.

"So what do you say?"

She took all of twos seconds to think this over before giving him a smirk of her own. "Let's get to it then, Mr. Mustang."

"Whatever you say," he said. "And please, call me Roy."

"Sure thing, Roy."

The henchwoman placed her gun in her holster and walked over to him until they were just a breath away. She then cupped his face in her hands and kissed him passionately. He too closed his eyes and kissed her. Deepening it by slipping his tongue into her mouth and making her moan.

The whole time they were making out, Roy kept one eye open. That way, he could finish etching the last circle line into the metal binding his wrists. Once it was complete Roy eyed his "partner" again, just to make sure she was distracted. She was. So he activated the circle, thankful that she never even noticed the blinding blue light created by the transmutation.

He could hear her sigh on his lips. "You really are a great kisser…"

"Thank you," he said before kissing her again. "You're not so bad yourself…"

Now that his hands were free, Roy decided to have a little fun with this woman. He wrapped one hand around her waist while the other made its way up her neck and cradled her head, somehow knowing she wasn't stupid enough to not notice when someone's hands were on her.

Sure enough, his hunch was correct. When the henchwoman felt a pair of hands on her, she opened her eyes to see Roy out of his handcuffs and smiling at her.

"Huh? What? How did you-"

"Flame Alchemy isn't the only thing I'm versed in, you know."

He pointed towards the small but noticeable transmutation circle he'd etched into the metal handcuffs. Needless to say, this henchman's eyes widened when she saw that.

"So then, that kiss? It was-"

The Colonel gave her an arrogant shrug. "What can I say?" he asked. " You showed me a weakness, and I took advantage of it. All's fair in love and war, right?"

Roy flashed her his trademark smirk, quite pleased with the way he had played this woman for a fiddle.

At least until he saw the look on her face. Not only was she on the verge of tears, she was pouting her lips as well. "Shit!" Roy thought. Seeing that look, he knew he'd be in serious trouble if he didn't act fast.

He was right.

"You…You bastard!" she screamed.

Pulling out her handgun from the holster on her waist, she wasted no time in firing at the Flame Alchemist.

Roy was just as quick, though, dodging the bullet in time. Knowing he had little time to act, he whipped out the extra pair of ignition gloves he kept in his breast pocket. Seriously, how stupid had these people been not to even check there?

Well, he didn't have time to ponder that when she shot another bullet at him. He quickly dodged it, aimed his fingers at her and snapped.

Next thing this woman knew, her hands were on fire and she was screaming. She dropped the gun and fell to her knees, still wincing at the flames on her hands as they dispersed.

"A word of advice; maybe bother to check the extra pockets for weapons next time."

Looking up, the henchwoman came face to face with Roy Mustang, himself. He stood before her, standing tall and boring his obsidian eyes into hers, making her squirm.

Now she knew why her boss told her to watch out for this guy.

Roy pulled her to her feet and dragged her over to the handcuffs. He started putting her into them while she continued wincing in pain.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"Oh, relax. I just burned the skin on your hands. Worse case scenario, you'll just end up with a first degree burn by tomorrow morning."

Sealing the cuffs with the same circle he'd carved into them earlier, he tore off a piece of his waist skirt and tied it around her mouth, gagging her.

"Now, I'm going to escape from here and find my men. You're going to stay here. That way, I won't have anyone tattling on me," Roy said. He smiled sweetly at her and asked "Think you can do that?"

Unable to do anything else, the girl nodded and muffled through the gag. "Mhm."

Roy smirked. "Good."

Suddenly, he could hear the sound of the metal door opening and a familiar voice shouting "Colonel!" Roy smiled, there was no doubt in his mind who was at the door.

Turning around, he came to face his First Lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye. She stood tall, her gun was poised and ready to take out any threat that may have been in the room. But she seemed perplexed, like she hadn't been expecting him to free himself before she got there.

Honestly, Roy couldn't help but chuckle. It was rare seeing her so baffled and dumbfounded, so her reaction was kind of a treat for him.

"Looks like you showed up too late this time, huh, Lieutenant?" he asked.

Not surprisingly, she gave him a genuine smile and placed her gun at her side. "It would appear that way," she replied.

The two then exited the room and made their way down the hallway.

"What's happening?"

"Lieutenant's Havoc and Breda have stormed the southern outpost looking for the Ambassador. Falman and Sergeant Feury chose to stay behind and are trying to keep the peace negotiations from turning sour."

"Have they?" he asked.

"According to Kain, the other Ambassadors are getting restless."

The Colonel sighed; so much for this mission going smoothly.

"Of course they are," he said. "Let's focus on finding our Ambassador, for now. That way, we can get him back to the summit and end this travesty."

"Yeah," Riza agreed. She turned around to face him, only to feel her eyes widened when she saw her superior's face, confusing him.

"Something wrong?"

"Why do you have lipstick on your face?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry," he said. "Didn't notice that was there. Thanks." The Colonel wiped what remained of the lipstick from the side of his mouth, noticing that his Lieutenant was staring angrily at him the whole time. "What?"

"Let me guess; you made out with her, didn't you?" she asked.

"Well, yeah. But only because I needed to distract her long enough so I could get myself free using alchemy."

"Really?" she asked while raising an eyebrow. "You sure you just didn't feel like sticking your dick in her?"

Roy felt his eyes nearly pop out of his skull. He couldn't have heard that right, could he? "Excuse me?" he asked.

"You heard me."

Guess he did. Before Roy could even ask her why she would even ask such a thing, the Lieutenant turned her back to him and began moving forward again.

The Colonel eyed her angrily. "She's not getting out of it that easy," he thought to himself. Never one to take things lying down, Roy asked "What are you so angry about, now?"

"I'm not angry! Just let it go, Sir."

"Like hell you aren't," he thought. He'd suspected for awhile that she had a thing for him, and this obvious hint of jealousy was only confirming his suspicions. A small smirk crept onto his face as he kept walking behind his Lieutenant.

"You're jealous, aren't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Riza barked.

Not that Roy minded. If anything, his smirk kept widening with each passing second. "Right," he said. "Well if it helps, she wasn't my type; I don't exactly go for dumb blondes."

"Really? As opposed to all those other brainless bimbos you've slept with?"

Now Roy could feel himself becoming angry, again.

"Oh, right. Like you wouldn't want a shot at me!"

The Lieutenant rolled her eyes. "Please," she said. "I'd rather kiss Feury before I kissed you."

"Really? Well, I can arrange that for you if you'd like."

"If your plan is to get me discharged for fraternization, than go ahead."

The Colonel growled and whispered under his breath "Right. Like I totally wouldn't have asked you out by now if it weren't for that stupid-"

"I'm sorry, Colonel," she said. That was surprising to him, but what really caught him off guard was when she turned to face him. "I don't know what came over me."

Honestly, Roy didn't know what to do other than give her a small smile. He may not have liked what she said to him, but he couldn't blame her for being jealous.

"No, it's alright," he said. "Let's go find Havoc and Breda."

She saluted. "Sir!"

So the Colonel and his Lieutenant continued down the hallway, their sights set on finding their friends and getting the hell out of this place.

Still, Roy couldn't help but let out a sigh.

If only he was able to tell her that the whole time he'd been making out with that brainless bimbo, he'd been thinking about making love to her like he always did.

The End

[stiles-mischief-stillinski]

Those Little Moments

A little Sterek fic that takes place some point after season 5.

It’s the little moments that count. Every single one of those little moments that people tend to brush over and forget about. That small glance, that soft and gentle touch. Or the first look you share with the one you love when they come back from a long trip. Or the care in your voice when they’re hurt. It’s those things that join together in the end, like a puzzle. All of those little pieces joining together perfectly and forming one clear image. For Derek, it’s the realisation that maybe, just maybe, he needed Stiles Stilinski more than he knew. And maybe, just maybe, he loved him too.

Derek didn’t know what he had expected when he ran into Stiles that day in the small, corner store.

Maybe an overdramatic display of how long it had been since he’d last seen the werewolf, or maybe a small smile and a ‘welcome back’. Instead, Derek was greeted by a pair of honey coloured eyes that had widened to the size of saucers. Stiles’ mouth was slightly agape as he looked at Derek.

A sort of sadness struck the boy’s face, something which gave Derek no pleasure when he saw it.

He had tried to speak, he had tried to say to say hello (or anything really) to Stiles but his tongue had betrayed him and had twisted into a tight knot. Too tight to untie, Derek could do nothing but stare back.

He hadn’t really expected to be overwhelmed with so many emotions. Sadness. Guilt. Most of all, regret. Regret for leaving Stiles behind in Beacon Hills while he travelled all over the country. Then, as soon as Stiles spun around and left with tears making his eyes glisten, the regret swiftly changed to anger. His heart tighten. Derek wanted to reach out but his hands felt like they were chained to his sides. Each step Stiles took, the harder it was to move, to call out. His voice remained silent and a cold wave crashed over him.

_____

The next time Derek saw Stiles, was when he appeared at Derek’s loft; all bloodied, bruised and clothes ripped.

He had been attacked by a mysterious creature and left at the side of the road. Derek was the closest person he could reach. “How did this even happen?” Derek asked with worry as he gently dabbed Stiles’ face.

“Hell do I know. I was just walking before bam! Attacked.” Stiles flinched as Derek wiped the gash above his eye.

“Sorry,” He apologised, looking at the boy with a soft expression. Stiles didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. “I’m sorry that this happened Stiles.”

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know it was gonna happen.” Stiles shrugged as he started putting his jacket back on.

Derek didn’t know what possessed him to do it but the next thing he knew, he had a hand on Stiles’ cheek. He made small circles against Stiles’ cold skin and he must have done something right because with tired eyes, Stiles leaned into Derek’s touch. It was such a tender moment between the two. Derek had forgotten what those felt like. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be loved…to know that somebody cared about him…to feel safe. With Stiles, it all came flooding back.

“Don’t go. Please.” It was barely a whisper, Derek couldn’t remember when he had ever been so quiet.

Stiles looked up at him, taking Derek’s hand off his face and into his own hand, interlocking their fingers.

“I won’t.”

______

“I killed somebody.”

They were sitting on the Stilinski porch when Stiles had broken the silence; breathing irregular and hands shaking when he had said it.

“I didn’t mean to. I swear, I never wanted to. It’s just, Donovan, he was chasing me and I was climbing the ladder and he was right behind me. He was close Derek. He was so close and I was terrified and I reached for the pole and everything fell and it, it stabbed him. Right through the chest.Then, he died.”

Tears soaked through Derek’s shirt as he cradled Stiles. He rocked back and forth with the boy in his arms, stroking his hair and muttering softly that it was okay.

“You know what the worst part was? It wasn’t the blood that stained my hands and it wasn’t the fact that I had just killed somebody. It was the fact that Scott believed Theo over me. I tried to tell him and he believed Theo over me, his best friend.”

Stiles cried louder, all the pain and hurt hitting him like a truck. After everything they had been through, Stiles had never believe that Scott would ever be able to do that to him. To trust someone else more than his own brother.

Derek looked at Stiles. He looked so broken that it honestly didn’t surprise the werewolf anymore. After all the terrors that Stiles had faced, Derek wished had never left. He would have believed Stiles. He would have protected Stiles and kept him safe from this whole mess.

“I’m sorry Stiles. I am so, so sorry that you had to go through that.”

“So am I.” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s shirt, burying himself further into the warmth of his body. It was comforting, it made Stiles feel like he really did have somebody who made him feel wanted and safe; safer than a whole pack of dangerous werewolves and kitsunes and banshees ever could.

Stiles may not have been a supernatural creature himself, but he knew that without a doubt , Derek was his anchor too.

______

The air turned cold around them and Stiles wished he had worn those gloves. He gripped the flowers in his hands tightly, they were a spectacular array of colour, ranging from orchids, to dahlias, to morning glories.

He remembered looking at old wedding photos, apparently his mother couldn’t decide which ones she would walk down the aisle with, so she chose one of each flower that the florists had to offer.

Stiles took in a deep breath. He couldn’t think back to when ha had last been there. It was shameful, really, that he had allowed all of the supernatural drama get in between his visits to his mother. That’s what Stiles thought anyway.

Derek put a hand onto Stiles’ shoulder, giving it a light squeeze of reassurance. Stiles looked to see Derek giving him a small smile, which he returned.

“Hey Mom,” His voice felt heavy and thick as he spoke. “It’s good to see you again. I’m sorry I haven’t been around in a while, lots of things have been happening.”

He thought for a moment, thinking carefully about what he wanted to tell her. “Uh, Dad’s sticking to his diet, for a change, so that’s something. I’m also planning on joining the FBI once high school is over and done with.”

Stiles had been through so much during that night in the woods, more than any teenager ought to go through. But he had. Despite all odds, he had survived. Nothing, Stiles thought, nothing could ever be more difficult than talking to his own mother.

“Derek’s back.” He said suddenly, making the Hale surprised. “He patched me up a while ago when I got attacked.”

Stiles looked from the headstone and faced Derek, showing a sad smile on is face. “Yeah, you definitely would have loved him.”

The jeep’s rattling engine hadn’t been started straight away. Stiles gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning whiter and whiter.

“For what it’s worth, I think your mother would be insanely proud of you.”

“Thank you Derek. Really, thank you.”

In all of the time Derek had known Stiles, there were few times when he had looked as serious as he had in that jeep, in that precise moment in time. In his mind, Derek swore a secret oath. He would never let Stiles down. Not again.

______

“Please don’t leave me again.”

Derek looked up from the book in his hands - caught off guard by the sudden plea. They were in the loft, Derek on the sofa and Stiles sitting by the window, head against the cool glass as he watched the rain lightly tap against it.

“Stiles…”

What could he say? What could Derek possibly say that would ease the teenager’s mind and assure him that no matter what, Derek wouldn’t leave again. At least, not without Stiles by his side.

“Without you here, things go wrong. I go wrong. When you’re not here, I don’t feel safe anymore, I don’t feel right. Damn it Derek, it’s hard. Without you everything just falls apart and it’s just hard to deal with and nothing makes sense and I-”

The salt in the air drifted around , invading all of Derek’s senses. He made his way over to Stiles, sitting in front of him on the ledge, he wiped away a tear that had dropped from the brunette’s eye. Slowly, he took Stiles’ hand into his own and laced them together.

“Stiles, I promise you, right here and right now, that I am never going to leave you. Not ever again. Before I left, I never fully understood how I felt, how I still feel about, well, you. That day I saw you in the store, that’s when everything started to click.”

“Derek, what, what are you saying?” Stiles’ brows furrowed together. With his soft expression of confusion, Derek couldn’t help but melt under his gaze. He felt his heart skip beat after beat and before he knew it, he was leaning in closer to Stiles.

“What I’m trying to say is that, I love you. I’m sorry I left you alone, you have no idea how much I regret it and I wish I had stayed, or maybe even have taken you with me. The point is, I’m here now, and I swear it to you that I am never leaving you behind ever again.”

“You love me?” Stiles whispered in astonishment. Derek nodded, cheeks glowing a light shade of red. He smiled, looking at the beautiful doe-eyed boy in front of him.“

"Thank God.” Stiles murmured before closing the gap between them.

It wasn’t quite like how Derek had imagined it would be. Of all the daydreams where the kiss is hot and fiery and passionate, this kiss is sweet and tender, Stiles, for once in his life, is taking his time. Taking things slowly and carefully as he takes his hands from Derek and runs them through Derek’s hair.

When they parted for air, Stiles rested his forehead against Derek’s.

“I love you too, Sourwolf.”

[mortalspark-blog]

‘  i  always  find  myself  wishing  you  were  next  to  me  while  i  try  to  fall  asleep  at  night .  ’

the sigh leaving his mouth sits bone-deep, deeper than most any emotional reaction to other’s words or criticism of him, and while it does not vocalize as more than a hushed sound, he knows the other man has picked it up from across the room. there’s not much space between them, not anymore, and the russian has staked his survival on picking up even the smallest of other people’s cues. it would be more concerning if he would not be able to read some of the stored away emotion from frederick’s features and reaction. it is a conversation they already had so often that a script for it could have been written by either of them, making it an hour-long thing with an intermission if they’d pool resources and really get the ball rolling in deconstructing their oldest of discussions, their lengthiest of arguments  ⸺   like the deconstruction a heart, or a brain, picking it apart and laying it out one by one to be seen and studied and learned from. there are several things that remain the same no matter the circumstances, no matter what ticked it off or what situation they are in otherwise  ( frederick is at fault, maybe rightfully so. dmitry is angry, maybe rightfully so. neither of them is beneath themselves to consider an apology in the heat of the moment an actual way to defuse what they are doing ).  ice meeting fire, one melting the other to the bone while the other decomposes ice out of words like bodies decompose to nurture the soil they are sitting in. and round and round they go this way, it has been going on for years now, a never-ending conversation that one of them  ( his husband, since the frankenstein remains the one whose fault is put on trial ) warms up to have again. this time around he does sound soulful though, even on the spectrum of sadness, and it is less heated than other words the doctor has been struck with when meeting the other’s wrath about the minuscule circumstances of work arrangements, which would remain a routine to hardly budge from even now. tears and a wistful sigh coming from the other’s mouth the last thing to make this seem like the scene in a stage-play, something an unhappy wife would tell her working husband after he, again, has let dinner go cold with his ignorance to his spouse’s interest and feelings. but this is not who they are, they are not rehearsed  (  not to that extent  )  and while the doctor did find his passion in the theatrical, he also has carved a place out for his husband that rivaled in importance to his work. from later mornings to earlier evenings, to taking sundays off entirely unless an important patient or client could not wait, and up to where he prefers his husband’s rough presence when compared with the prospect of a three-day long medical convention on the other end of the country. and there were dinners, and gifts, and flowers  ⸺  so many of them once frederick realized the other had a soft spot for them, probably for the fact that not too many found their way through the cracks of petersburg’s cobblestone and concrete. unlike the conman.

“you are heating up old arguments, dmitry,” he reminds the other, voice nearly void of anything as it always is, except he knows that the russian can sense the underlying tone of guilt.  he often enough vowed to be better, try harder, work less. but he fails more than he apologizes, and they both know it. undressing himself is something that garners only a second-hand form of his attention, steel gray still fixed on the other as he shrugs out of his coat, then suit jacket, then vest, and so on. “ i am late and i know that, but for all i know you should have been asleep for an hour now. minimum, you have an appointment early tomorrow.” the critical tone that laces through the words now is more obvious, thought it comes from a place of care, of worry. the frankenstein did not spend several years in medical school and being one of the most decorated and sought after surgeons, to go on and teach students about all matters of medicine to not see the very clear signs of how his childhood- and teenage trauma still affected the taller man. the insomnia might be the most obvious of his symptoms, and even before they have gotten to the point of sharing a bed frederick has known of the habit; the steps just above his head when he was in his lab and dmitry traced the lower grounds of the house, or when he was in his office and could hear the other leaving the bedroom, walking to the staff’s kitchen, later checking to see any bottle of hard liquor stored there gone or half-emptied. a delicate matter to mention, which is why the doctor only ever brought it up when he felt the moment called for it, when his husband would be unreasonable or clearly in the need of something strong to get his hands to stop shaking or his eyes to stop darting around the room as if the firing squad would come in with the kitchen trail any second now. an ugly, ugly thing, for frederick has treated his fair share of veterans ( and his own trauma a well-acquainted presence in his day to day life ), something that would be denied with any further prying or would leave a similar bomb go off than to what first triggered it. so, not many points about it were shared from his side, and he only shared his worry with his husband when it suited both of them, or when they had to remind each other that neither of them is free of guilt or bad habits. 

down to his underwear and putting on his sleepwear, he does not wait for dmitry to excuse or explain himself, or to pry more remorse out of the frankenstein when met with the usual decorum of pointed disconnection to whatever trouble seems to brew between them now. instead, he walks the few steps in the bedroom over to the other, putting a careful hand on his shoulder and moving him down to sit on the bed again. with a token breath for reassurance to himself, another hand followed, both now cradling the other’s cheeks. “remind me the next time i am late again. just come into my office, for god’s sake, you know how terrible i am at leaving work be. you are the only one allowed in anyway at that hour.” thumb tracing the scar close to the other’s eye, a tender thing of a touch the frankenstein only found himself to possess when realizing the emotions trapped in his chest for the other man are the most sentimental ones to find, the ones he so often would deny of being able to feel, but with dmitry it has become all too easy: a current running between them that said everything frederick has his trouble with saying, all that intense burning in his stomach and the constant need to know dmitry is alrigjt, all that love that made it possible for the dean to even feel something like guilt   ⸺   when it is common knowledge he extracted himself from such mortal wrongdoings to trouble him. there would be no apology coming out of the surgeon’s mouth, but his lips brushed the russian’s forehead in a silent one, in lieu of words spoken. it says more than any word ever could. “you are going to be in a bad mood if you won’t sleep at all. now, let us try to get at least a few hours, and you can reprimand me in the morning, love.”

[unfolded73]

Another New York City Serenade (2/7)

Because I’m in a good mood for getting 2nd place as Best Breakout Author, and because y’all are so nice, and because the writing on this is really flowing, I’m posting Chapter 2 now.

Summary: With the visitors from Arendelle gone and Gold banished, Emma and Killian’s relationship continues to deepen, especially when an excuse for a road trip away from Storybrooke falls into their laps. (A S4 hiatus story).

Beta: @j-philly-b

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3953 this chapter

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

Killian awoke to the sound of water running in the sink of the bathroom. The room was dark, and he reached for the still-warm pillow beside him, smelling the scent of Emma’s shampoo on it. He smiled, remembering suddenly every detail of their coupling, of the warmth of her body beneath his, the way she had wanted, the way she had accepted him in every possible way.

The bathroom door opened and she emerged. He could just make out the pale shape of her as she crawled back under the covers, and he pulled her into his arms.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.

“I’m glad you did. I needed more time to appreciate the fact that you’re in my bed.”

She laughed softly. “Oh yeah?”

“And if it turns out that I am having a particularly good dream, do me a favor and don’t wake me from it.” He curled his arm around her, his hand coming to rest across her ribcage. He could feel the swell of one of her breasts brushing against his thumb, and he moved his knuckle back and forth across it in a gentle caress.

Emma sighed and snuggled into him, her bottom pressing against his groin in a way that was decidedly arousing. “Okay,” she said through a yawn.

He resolved to let her go back to sleep, trying to will his body not to respond to her closeness, but the sensation of her skin combined with the scent of her was overwhelming. He could tell when she noticed his growing erection, her teasing wiggle forcing him to suppress a groan.

“My apologies, Swan, I’m unused to the touch of your skin against mine in so intimate a manner.”

Emma hummed, sounding somehow both amused and sultry. “Should I go cover myself in some flannel pajamas to make you more comfortable?” She shifted herself away from him, putting some space between them.

“Perish the thought.” He grabbed her hip and pulled her close again.

“That’s good, because I don’t have any pajamas here.”

“Perhaps we should rectify that,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “By which I mean, you are welcome to keep any belongings here that you choose to, if it would make your stays more convenient.”

He felt her tense up, and immediately regretted his words. If there was anything he’d learned about Emma Swan in the time he’d been courting her, it was that she was easily spooked by indications that their relationship was moving faster than she was prepared for. And he supposed that for her, sex was one thing, but keeping a few personal items in his room was quite another.

“Relax, Swan, I’m not asking you to move in,” he said in his most easy-going voice. “Just thought you might want to keep a toothbrush and some extra undergarments here, that’s all.”

She did relax a fraction, her exhale puffing out. “Sure, that’s not a bad idea,” she conceded. They lay together in silence for a while, his hand gently caressing her stomach. When she started speaking again, he held his breath, listening.

“I haven’t actually spent the night with anyone like this much. Even with Walsh it was rare, because I had Henry as a convenient excuse for why I had to run home.” He waited through another long pause. “It’s just, after Neal abandoned me, after everything… I didn’t want to put my trust in any man ever again. Get off and get gone, that was usually my philosophy when it came to sex.”

He pondered all of the meaningless tumbles he’d indulged in since losing Milah, understanding exactly what she meant. Those encounters tended to leave him physically satisfied but emotionally empty, and it struck him how different tonight had been. How complete he felt, holding Emma. He hadn’t told her yet, but Killian knew without a doubt that he was totally, hopelessly in love with her.

“I’m very glad you’re here. But if I’m ever moving too fast for you, Emma, just tell me.”

She turned and glanced over her shoulder. “We’re good, don’t worry. I’m here because I want to be.”

Quiet settled again, and Killian resumed his caressing of her abdomen until Emma took his hand in hers, threading their fingers together. “It’s a good thing I don’t have to go back and live in the Enchanted Forest now, though.” Emma laughed humorlessly. “Some princess I’d make, with a teenage pregnancy and a string of one-night stands behind me.”

He felt a quick stab of fury at Baelfire, and at anyone who would make Emma feel like less than what she was. Propping himself up on his elbow, he looked down at her as he spoke. “Given my past, it may not mean a lot coming from me, but I do not think any less of you for the life you’ve led. All I see is a woman who came from nothing and made herself into a hero.” Swallowing back an ill-timed confession of his love, he kissed her cheek gently. “And for what it’s worth, I’m certain your royal parents don’t think anything less of you either.”

Emma turned again and looked into his eyes, and he could see gratitude written plainly on her face before she craned her neck to kiss him. He inhaled, and then pulled away from her mouth to frown at her. “You’ve cleaned your teeth, that’s not fair.”

She shrugged and gave him an impudent grin. “I wanted to be prepared.”

With a groan, he pulled away from her and got out of bed. “Well, now I must do the same or risk offense. Pardon me a moment.” He walked across the room and into the small en-suite, closing the door with a soft click.

He glanced at his pale reflection under the harsh bathroom light (fluorescent, he remembered Emma had called it, this very white lighting that made everything look washed out and strange). He looked exhausted, he thought, his eyeliner mostly worn away, the days under the Dark One’s thrall leaving him hollowed out. Looking down at the stump at the end of his left arm, he marveled again at Emma’s easy acceptance of his body. He knew the rest of him was appealing (despite the baffling fashion of men with hairless chests he’d seen in magazines in this realm), and Emma being attracted to him physically was something he’d never doubted. But the way she had touched his uncovered arm, her desire unflagging, had taken his breath away.  

Hurriedly, he relieved himself and brushed his teeth before returning to the warmth of his bed and the woman waiting in it.

She was still facing toward the opposite wall, the curve of her back exposed to his greedy eyes. Slipping in behind her again, he pressed up against her, chuckling as she hissed.

“You’re cold now,” she complained.

“So warm me up.”

She hummed, again molding the curve of her backside against him as she had done before, her arm reaching to cradle the back of his head as she craned her neck around to kiss him. It was a simple press of lips at first, but then Emma opened her mouth and he was lost. Her tongue explored his mouth, so hot and slippery, and he suddenly wanted her so much he could hardly breathe.

Her body was a live wire next to his, rubbing against him, his cock pressed between her ass cheeks. The intimacy of it made him flush, his mind filled with images of things he wanted to do with her, to her. His hand slid down almost without conscious thought, touching between her legs and making her gasp.

“Gods, Swan, you’re so…” His lips brushed against hers as he spoke, the words tripping out of his mouth and over hers.

“What?” she asked when he didn’t continue.

“Forgive me, but the only word I can summon is ‘fuckable.’”

“I’m fuckable?” she asked with a laugh, before lifting her right leg back over his and shifted against him, letting his cock come to rest between her thighs, and he shuddered at the thought of entering her like this, pounding into her from behind, pulling her hips back onto him over and over. Emma swiveled her pelvis, moaning as his erection brushed against the wetness between her legs. It was a teasing touch, without enough pressure to really satisfy either of them.

“Aye, that you most definitely are.”

She moved her right leg again, closing her thighs so that now when he thrust his hips forward, his cock dragged deliciously between them.

“Well maybe you should do that then,” she said, panting, taking her own pleasure from the way he stroked her with his fingers. Her hand continued to comb through the hair on the back of his head, nails scratching his scalp as she held on tighter.

He kept thrusting between her legs, waylaid by the pleasurable sensations, even though what she was offering would feel even better. “Do what, Swan?” he gritted out between clenched teeth, wanting to hear the word from her lips. “Say it.”

“Fuck me.”

He reached out blindly behind him for the nightstand, searching for the other condom Emma had left there, slapping his hand down a few times until he had it. He examined it, trying to determine the way she had opened the wrapper so easily. Modern packaging infuriated him, everything encased in hard plastic that even the point of his hook often couldn’t breach, but Emma had opened the other one easily with her teeth, and he found he was able to do the same.

“Here, I can help,” Emma said, turning over. She held the tip between her fingers and positioned it, allowing him to roll in on without difficulty. “You’re a pro at this already.”

“Well, I’ve always been a quick study when it comes to sex,” he said, making Emma roll her eyes and kiss him. He realized with a pang of disappointment that the business with the condom had gotten them out of the position he was so enjoying. “May I…?” He urged Emma to roll back over, and she went willingly. Moving her leg over his again, he reached down and adjusted the angle, rubbing the head of his cock against her. “Is this all right?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, bending a little at the waist and reaching back to help him find the right angle. He pushed, short thrusts that seated him inside her, and gods, she was tight like this. He stopped moving, his fingers gripping her hip tightly to hold her still.

“You okay?”

“Just give me a moment, love.” He breathed deeply in and out, regaining some control of himself, before starting to slowly move inside her. “You feel wonderful,” he said against her hair.

“So do you.”

He reached over to touch her again, to help bring her to climax, but Emma pushed his hand away, her own fingers sliding down between her legs. “I’ve got it,” she said, and he shuddered at the thought of it, Emma pleasuring herself while he fucked her. Gripping her hip again, he drove into her faster, harder.

Every thrust brought the swell of her ass against his groin, her head tilted back against him, the long expanse of her neck tantalizingly out of the reach of his mouth, all of it an exquisite torture. He listened carefully to the sounds she made, the escalating gasps and moans that told him when she was getting close, and he struggled not to outpace her.  His own voice joined hers as he lost his facility for words, only grunting with every hard slap of his hips into hers. They both surrendered themselves to the motion, the taking and giving of pleasure, climbing higher and reaching and finally falling together in a sweaty tangle of limbs.

Killian pulled out of her and rolled over, still breathing heavily. Emma seemed to sense that he was too tired to get out of bed, so she pulled a few tissues from the box on the opposite nightstand, and he wrapped the condom in them before dropping the mess on the floor to be dealt with later. They lay next to each other, looking up at the ceiling, chests heaving.

“I fear we may have woken Granny with that one,” he commented, and felt Emma cringe beside him.

“And she’s probably got wolf hearing like Ruby.”

“Aye.” With great effort, he rolled over and took her hand. “Not regretting coming here tonight, I hope?”

Emma smirked. “No.”

He brought her hand to his lips, unable to resist the urge to flick his tongue out and taste the remnants of her arousal lingering on her fingers. He suddenly regretted not spending any time tonight with his mouth between her legs; he would have to remedy that as soon as possible.

“Good. Because we’ve only barely scratched the surface of what our bodies can do together.”

~*~

He was usually an early riser, with no need for an alarm to awaken him, but as he struggled to free himself from sleep he saw that Emma was already up, moving around the room to gather her clothes.

“Leaving so soon?” He feared that she might already be regretting their night together, but then she looked at him and smiled and his worries melted away.

“Sorry, I’ve got to go home and shower and change before work.” She pulled her pants on, seemingly unconcerned that she was still mostly naked from the waist up, her breasts obscured by the thin corset (bra, he reminded himself) she wore. “Do you want to have dinner later?”

“I’d love to,” he said, watching her. “I’m sure I’ll be able to think of nothing else today but you.”

Her reaction to that was obscured by the sweater she was pulling on over her head, but he noted another smile on her lips as she pulled her jacket on. “I’ll call you when I’m done at the sheriff’s office, then.”

She hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure whether she should kiss him goodbye, and so he swept out of bed, naked as the day he was born.

“Until tonight, Swan.” Hand on her cheek, he kissed her in a brief, chaste touch of lips.

He felt slightly bereft as the door closed behind her. After a night of making love to Emma for the first time, he would have liked to have lounged in bed late, enjoying their newfound intimacy. Her rush to resume the routine of her daily life only highlighted for him that he was still adrift in Storybrooke. Now that there was no villain to battle, and with his ship lost to him, he had little to keep him occupied.

After going through his usual morning ablutions (perhaps with a little more care than usual as he thought about seeing Emma again that night), he ate breakfast downstairs, meeting Granny’s glares with a broad grin. Left with little else to do once his plates were cleared away, he exited the diner and ambled over to the library. At the very least, he could pass his time by reading.

The library seemed deserted when he walked through the heavy door, no one behind the front desk, but Killian figured if Belle weren’t here somewhere, the place would have been locked up. He ventured into the room, tapping his hook absently against the counter. “Belle?”

No answer.

His heels clicking on the marble floor, he made his way back into the stacks. He could probably still accomplish his task, leaving her a note with which books he borrowed. Whistling softly to himself, he made his way over to the fiction section.

As he pulled a book off the shelf to read the summary on the inside sleeve, he heard what he thought was a sniffle. “Belle? Is someone here?” Making his way down the aisle and looking down each of the rows of shelves, he finally came upon her, sitting on the floor at the end of one row, her head buried against her drawn-up knees.

The first thought that popped into his head was that she was ill, or hurt. “Belle!” He rushed to her side and crouched down. “Are you injured, lass? Can I help?” Belle raised her head, and he could tell that she had been crying, her eye makeup smeared and tear tracks on her cheeks, but otherwise she seemed unharmed. “I apologize, I fear I’ve intruded on you,” he said. “My presence must be most unwelcome. I’ll take my leave.”

“No, it’s fine,” Belle said, her voice raspy. “I did mean to have the library open today; I thought it would give me something else to focus on, but…” She shrugged. “It's hard not to think about him.”

“Aye, I imagine it would be.” He stood up and offered Belle his hand. She paused, scrutinizing him for a second before taking it and letting him pull her to her feet. Killian watched as she wobbled briefly on her high heels before she gained her balance.

“Thanks, Killian. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, love. On the contrary, you saved my life yesterday, and I never got the chance to thank you for it. I hardly deserved such generosity from you.”

“I wouldn’t categorize it as generosity, just basic human decency.” She pulled her hand out of his and he could see her trying to shake off her sadness. “Can I help you find a book?”

“Aye, probably. I’m not looking for anything in particular, just something to occupy my time.” He shrugged, unaccountably embarrassed for his idleness. “I have little to do right now, it seems.”

“A long series of novels, perhaps?” She began scanning the shelves, and he was happy to see her mood visibly lighten as she focused on what he might like to read. Before too long, she had his arms loaded with books. He carried them over to the front desk so that she could check them out to him.

“I used to love spending the whole day wrapped up in a new book,” she said, her eyes downcast as she stamped the due date on the slip of paper inside each volume.

“Me too. But I should probably go and see Regina today, now that I think on it.”

“What for?”

He winced, scratching behind his ear. “That damnable wizard’s hat. Under the Crocodile’s orders, I trapped the fairies in it. I’m responsible for finding a way to get them out, and she’s probably my best option. Not that I look forward to the taunts and verbal barbs she will subject me to in the process.”

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked tentatively. “I feel responsible as well.”

“Love, you aren’t.”

“Be that as it may, I’d like to help if I can.”

He looked around the library. “Perhaps some research is in order? If we could learn more about the hat…”

“Then perhaps we can come up with a spell Regina could cast to get the fairies out of it,” Belle finished, a genuine smile on her face. “We could work together; we’re both pretty good at research.”

“I would be honored, Belle.”

~*~

The sheriff’s station was silent as Emma entered, no one waiting to complain about vandalism or overturned trash cans or iced-over objects (although those complaints had stopped recently). Only her father was there, fiddling with the coffee maker.

“Hey,” she said, gesturing with the to-go cup from Granny’s she clutched in her gloved hand. “Did you get that working?”

“Hey yourself. And no.” He sighed. “I guess we’ll probably have to break down and buy a new one.”

“I can take care of it,” Emma said, putting her cup and purse down and shrugging out of her coat. “Any calls this morning?”

“No, it’s been very quiet. I thought I’d go out on patrol in a little while, unless you feel like doing it today.”

Emma flopped down in a chair. “Knock yourself out, I’m exhausted.”

She didn’t realize the implication of what she had said until she saw her father’s lips pressed in a thin line of what looked like disapproval. Perhaps it was only disapproval at the fact that she had reminded him where she was last night, but disapproval all the same.

“Just… because of all the stuff that happened yesterday with Gold,” she added, smiling a guilty smile. “That’s all.”

“Uh huh.”

She thought about the confession she’d made to Killian in the wee hours of the morning, that she had looked at the princess role she was supposed to have fulfilled and found herself wanting. Her father had probably had all kinds of hopes and dreams for her, before she was born, and she couldn’t help wondering if he sometimes measured the reality of his daughter against those dreams. Certainly, what she now had to admit was a serious relationship with a pirate can’t have been part of what he’d wanted for her.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever imagine what I would have been like if Regina hadn’t cast the curse?”

He smiled, sitting down across from her. “Sure, I guess I’ve thought about it. But I knew you as the Emma that you are before I knew you were my daughter, so it’s not something I’ve ever dwelled on. Why?”

She shrugged. It wasn’t that Emma lacked confidence; she had been proud of who she’d become, how she’d overcome a childhood in the foster system and time in prison to end up with a decent job and an apartment and a credit rating. Now, she was proud of a whole set of different things: being a mother to Henry, learning to control her magic, and learning to be in what she hoped was a healthy romantic relationship. But something about her parents triggered her insecurities. Fears that they were disappointed in her, fears that they didn’t want her, tended to rise up unbidden.

She decided to answer David truthfully. “I just sometimes think that I’m probably not exactly the daughter you would have wished for.”

David looked stricken by that. “Why would you think that? I couldn’t have wished for a better daughter if I tried.”

Blushing, Emma snorted. “Yeah, criminal record, teen pregnancy—”

“Emma—”

“Dating a pirate…”

“Okay, well, I don’t love that,” he said with a laugh. “Although you seem… happy. And I don’t think anyone can doubt that Hook is devoted to you.”

She snapped her teeth closed, surprised at her father’s admission. “Yeah,” she finally supplied.

“I gather things between you are getting serious. Or, well, I hope that they are, if you’re… choosing to spend the night with him.” David was visibly uncomfortable, and Emma wanted to rescue him, but she wasn’t sure where he was going with his little speech. “Just don’t ever think that my love for you hinges on who you choose to date. If things don’t work out between the two of you, I will continue to love you and be proud of you. And if you end up marrying the bastard and having his babies, I will continue to love you and be proud of you. As long as you’re living a good life and doing what makes you happy, there’s no possible way I could be more proud of you.”

Tears pricked against the backs of her eyes. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime.” He raised an eyebrow. “So, if I were to offer to punch Hook in the face if he ever hurts you, would that be patriarchal of me?”

Emma laughed. “I think I can punch him myself in the event that happens. But I appreciate the offer.”

CHAPTER 3