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thetaoofzoe · 4 years ago

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Fic: Syverson the Protector pt 5

* Syverson The Protector - Part I (pairing Syverson x YOU)

* Syverson the Protector - Part II (pairing Syverson x YOU)

* Syverson the Protector - Part III (pairing Syverson x YOU)

* Syverson the Protector - Part IV (pairing Syverson x YOU)

Author note: Finally part 5! Thank you so much for hanging in with me through this delightful journey and I hope that this part quenches your desire.

Summary: Henry has invited you to spend a few weeks at his cabin in the mountains and of course you agree. 💖NEW💖

Rating for this part: Sex, fluff, discussion of trauma (minor) Everyone has a good time and Aika is there too :)

I’ve picked ‘Henry’ as Syverson’s first name and he’s grown his hair out :D

Must be read in order, no part can stand alone.

Word count: 7500

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

‘Well,’ said your nurse as she watched you sort and pack your belongings. ‘If you want him to know how you feel, you have to tell him.’

She folded her arms and leaned against the narrow door frame to your hospital room. You glanced up at her.

‘I’m not twelve, Barb,’ you scoffed, nevertheless feeling pleased with her observation.

‘Well you were the one asking me to pass notes to him like you were in school.’

You raised your brows in surprise and then pointed an accusatory finger at her. You had resorted to note passing because you couldn’t see Henry face to face and communicate with him like an adult. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but you made it work.

‘You, Nurse Barb,’ you started, about to say something caustic and then relented, deciding to be sweet. ‘Did a great job passing notes, and I thank you.’

You flipped closed your small travel case and crossed the hospital room to grab at one of the slowly deflating helium ‘Get Well’ balloons which still listed lazily around the silver weight that held it in place. With a small pair of scissors, you cut the ribbon tether and lanced the mylar in an inconspicuous place. Pressing the balloon to your chest, you squeezed out the remainder of the helium air mix and added the now flat balloon to the pile of other flattened balloons.

‘So? Then what are you going to do about it?’ Barb continued to press. ‘Leave and regret never having said anything?’’

You stopped compacting the pile of deflated balloons and turned to look at her.

This whole budding romance thing between two war torn lovers must have been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to the nurse, you thought pleasantly. It was certainly exciting to you. So, you cut her some slack.

‘I just happen to know that he’s outside in the pool area right now. And, you have some time before your flight.’

The look on her face was both encouraging and infuriating.

Smiling, you walked to the door and patted Barb’s shoulder.

‘All right. I’ll go.’

She waggled her brows, turned and walked with you down the narrow corridor and then through the half-empty dayroom. She stopped at the double glass doors that led to the pool area and used her weight to press open one side.

‘I can’t tell if you’re a really good matchmaker or a really bad matchmaker,’ you said absently.

She shrugged.

‘Good luck, and don’t be too hard on him.’

‘I won’t. Well, I probably won’t. Well...I can’t promise.’

She chuckled and quickly gave you a one-armed hug.

‘I’ll have them bring your bags to the car when it turns up. There are a few people going to the airport with you. So if I don’t see you… keep in touch, ok?’

You nodded and walked through the open door.

The pool area, as they called it, was really just a collection of beach umbrellas shading colourful inflatable kiddie pools, some blowup flamingos, and an odd assortment of mismatched lawn chairs. There were several men camped out around most of the medium sized pools, with their feet in the water and enjoying each other’s company. You spotted Henry right off the bat, as he was the only one still in a wheelchair and paused a moment to watch him laugh at something the man next to him had just said. You were loath to interrupt them.

I’ll just leave a note, you thought, turning your back to the men in order to return to the day room. He won’t mind. I’ll leave a note and my business card so he won’t feel pressured to say anything to my face.

A little lost in thought, you lingered there for a moment, with your hand on the door handle when your thoughts were interrupted by a chorus of teasing male voices calling out your name, accompanied by whistles and several coquettish sounding ‘yoo-hoo!’s.

A wave of heat rushed into your face and you hunched your shoulders in a self-conscious cringe.

Jesus Christ you hated military men sometimes.

But you had been caught and you had no other choice but to turn around and face them.

One of the men kicked out the empty lawn chair closest to Syverson and waved you over. Taking the invitation, you drew the chair close to the circle, lightly rested your hand on Henry’s shoulder and sat down next to him. It was good to see him looking so well.

‘I read your new article,’ said the man, and by deciphering his medical wristband you learned he was called Solensky. ‘That was a damn brave thing you did.’

You shook your head and looked at Syverson, hoping that he didn’t think you were trying to steal glory.

‘I didn’t write it to showcase what I did. I had to tell people what really happened. How heroic the men were. And my partner. The sacrifices that they all made. What I did wasn’t important.’

‘Saving my life wasn’t important?’

Syverson sounded a little bit hurt and turning to him you were at a loss to read his suddenly cloudy expression.

You opened your mouth to protest.

‘I-- I didn’t mean that you… of course you are important. I just did what I had to.’

You held his incredulous gaze and continued, ‘you know that, Henry.’

Didn’t he believe you?

‘He don’t mean it like that,’ said Solensky. ‘He means that, you doing what you did, was important. Even if you don’t think it was.’

Henry obviously agreed with the man’s assessment, for a smile lifted the corner of his mouth and you cut a relieved and fondly exasperated look at him. Sitting back in the creaky lawn chair you kicked your feet out in front of you and rested them against the cushy rounded pool edge.

‘Thank you,’ you said finally and nodded to Solensky. ‘I had hoped to get it finished and published before I left.’

It felt good to hear some praise from the men you were trying to uplift.

‘You leaving soon?’ he asked.

‘Yes. Today. In a few hours in fact.’

You turned to face Henry again.

‘I wanted to say goodbye before I did.’

His face remained unreadable and you feared that you had upset him in some way.

The door to the dayroom opened and Barb called to you.

‘The car is here early. They have to do more stops, so you’ll have to leave now, I’m sorry.’

You shot Syverson a panicked look.

Now? But you didn’t say all you wanted to say. You didn’t have time!

‘Ok,’ Henry said finally. ‘You don’t want to keep them waiting or they’re gonna have you walking home.’

He pressed himself up and out of the wheelchair and breathing a little hard from the exertion, he faced you when you stood as well.

‘I’m in your debt. Whenever you need me, for whatever reason, I want you to call on me. It don’t matter, you got that?’

‘I got it,’ you answered, feeling a deep pang of agony and regret in your gut. Leaving was harder than you had expected.

Henry smiled then and curving his arms around you, he pulled you against his sun warmed body.

And what torture it was for him to hold you like that!

You put your head on his chest and embraced him in return. And, when you lifted your teary eyes, he leaned in and kissed your forehead. But that wasn’t good enough. Not nearly enough and you squeezed him when his lips met yours.

‘Ok… ok,’ you giggled, feeling hot faced and aroused. ‘You gotta stop that or I won’t be able to leave.’

He didn’t release you.

‘You can stay and come home with me,’ he said, moving in for another kiss.

You ducked your head and stepped out of his embrace.

‘If you behave, maybe I will.’

Barb cleared her throat, a signal that you were out of time, and kissing him quickly, you turned to leave.

‘Barb’ll give you my card. It’ll have my info on it.’

‘I will?’ she asked, glaring at you and then at him. ‘Boy, I’ll be glad when you leave and I can stop all of this note ferrying back and forth.’

‘See ya,’ said Henry.

‘Soon,’ you promised and went through the day room doors.

It had been six months. Six months of convalescing at home, writing columns and binge watching all of the television shows you missed while you were deployed. It had also been a pleasant six months of regular correspondence with Henry, which culminated in him asking you to come to the mountains with him for a few weeks. He had a little cabin in Montana which he had been renovating and now that Aika was finished with her mandatory quarantine in the States, he was going to go there and relax.

A few weeks in the fresh mountain air was just what you needed and once you agreed, he made and paid for your travel arrangements.

It was refreshingly cool when you shuffled into the noise and chaos of the airport arrival terminal on your way to the baggage claim. However, you walked a little more leisurely than the hustling crowd, taking in the sights and idly people watching. As a journalist, although you had trekked through more airports than you cared to count, the peculiar culture of tiny, and expensive indoor pseudo-cities like this was still so compelling. It wouldn’t be strange to see a bleary eyed man chowing down on a stacked burger and swilling his third bourbon on the rocks at 6:30 in the morning. Or seeing a grown woman tucked into an awkward corner, and clutching her carry-on bag protectively in front of her as she tried to catch some sleep during an unexpected flight delay.

You had been both of those people at one point or another in your travels. But there was another reason why you were strolling and taking your time examining the mass produced keychains and tee shirts proclaiming the name of the state you were in. You were nervous and your heart banged painfully against your ribs. You could feel it galloping and straining against its internal tethers and you had to stop occasionally and pretend to look at overpriced pizza slices in order to catch your breath.

You were nervous about seeing him again. That sweet, unfairly handsome Captain Henry Syverson.

The thought of him made you smile but you pressed it into a straight neutral line in the event someone was watching. You didn’t want to seem crazy, grinning down at a display case of heat-lamp warmed slices of cheese pizza.

When you finally reached baggage claim, a man, dressed in a dark suit and white shirt was waiting for you. He stood with the rest of the chauffeurs looking bored and holding an open tablet on which your name stood out in bold block letters on the screen. You walked expectantly up to him and he smiled and greeted you by name.

‘How was your trip?’ he asked, as he walked with you to the baggage carousel.

‘It was fine, thank you.’

And the two of you stood side by side watching the conveyor belt start to move and roll out the luggage.

‘Which one is yours?’ he asked, moving closer to the belt, ready to snag your bag as it tumbled by.

‘The red one, with the white stripe. It has the camera shaped luggage tag.’

He nodded and when that red bag came by, he grabbed it by the side handle. He then put it down, pulled up the telescoped handle and indicated that you follow him to the parking lot. Outside, the cool air woke you from your flight induced stupor and you took in a long cleansing breath.

‘First time in Montana?’ he asked, grinning as he watched you stretch your arms and back.

‘Just tired,’ you said. ‘Long flight.’

He opened the door to the glossy black SUV and helped you step up into the high spotless interior. Through the back window you watched him stow your suitcase in the trunk and followed him with your eyes until he climbed into the truck.

‘So,’ he said and fiddled with his tablet. ‘It’s going to take a little while to get to the destination. Is it warm enough for you? Too warm? There are snacks in the centre console and water under the seat. Do you mind if I have the radio on?’

The questions seemed rehearsed and you assured him that everything was fine before you sat back into the plush leather seats and he drove off.

Taking out your mobile, you switched it off of airplane mode and it immediately pinged that you had a message.

Making sure you landed safely.

You smiled and replied that you had done just that and were already on your way.

I’ll be waiting. I hope you’re hungry.

The driver was right. It took two and a half hours to get to the cabin and the last mile or so was on a dirt road so pitted and bumpy that you weren’t sure you were going to come out of the ride in one piece.

But it was all made better when you spotted Henry standing with Aika on the broad porch of a gorgeous mountain cabin. When he said that he wanted you to spend time with him at the cabin, you immediately pictured it to be a one or two room Little House on the Prairie type place. Which was absolutely fine with you, as you wouldn’t be there to admire the decor. However, you were not expecting the beautiful structure that stood proudly amongst the trees.

The driver slowed, made an awkward k-turn in the dirt and deposited you directly in front of the tall man approaching the truck.

The sight of Henry made you feel weak and proud to show the driver that you had been chosen by a superior specimen. Henry briefly spoke to the driver through his open window and the trunk popped open. With hands clasped in your lap, you waited. Henry grabbed your suitcase, slammed shut the trunk and then opened your door. He positively beamed at you and when you took his outstretched hand, you felt like a princess being rescued from a high tower.

When the SUV made its way back down the dirt road and the two of you were finally alone, you were faced with one of two decisions.

One: behave in your usual awkward way and shake his hand or pat his shoulder and thank him for letting you come and visit.

Two: press into his arms and give him the biggest hello I fucking missed you, kiss he’d ever received.

With some internal dismay, you found yourself leaning towards option one. You didn’t want to lead him to the wrong impression about you and slowly you extended your hand.

A look of surprise drifted across his face, but he was apparently willing to follow your lead. Before he could take that hand, you had a change of heart and instead ran straight at him and clamped your arms about his waist.

‘Hey, baby,’ he murmured, kissing the top of your head and enveloping you in his strong arms.

Oh God, you thought. I’m gonna start crying.

Tears pricked your eyes and before you could stop yourself, you heaved with a desperate sob.

‘What’s the matter?!’ he asked, sounding alarmed with the sudden change in your attitude.

You clutched him tighter and put your face against him.

‘I’m… I’m so happy to see you standing right here,’ you gasped.

The last time you’d seen him in the flesh, he had still been mostly confined to a wheelchair, still healing from his terrible wounds and unable to look after himself. But there he was now, strong and whole and so warm in your arms that you felt an overwhelming sense of affection for him.

Henry held you tighter and you felt infinitely safe in his embrace. Everything was right with the world.

‘I thought about the moment I could do this,’ he said, gently stroking your back. ‘And now I made you cry.’

‘I’m just so happy to see you well,’ you said, pulling back and looking at his wryly smiling face. ‘And not hooked up to wires and IVs.’

‘Ok,’ he drawled. ‘Me too. In that case…’

He curved one hand about your cheek and lifting your face, he kissed you. It took a few more moments of cuddling before you eventually stopped trembling and having an existential crisis. He drew back, bent down and picked up your bag.

‘You hungry?’ he asked, slipping his hand down to your lower back and guiding you to the glorious cabin.

‘Famished!’ you announced and stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

The dog on the porch sat up and wriggled with pleasure, her thick furry tail whapping excitedly on the wooden boards.

Henry dragged his fingers through the thick brown and black scruff and scratched her angular head. The dog bowed and flattened her ears softly and approached you. You put both hands on her head and massaged her fluffy ears.

‘I remember you,’ you said to the dog who continued to eagerly lick at your hands.

‘This place is different than where she’s from, but she loves it.’

Then to Aika he said, ‘stay on the porch.’

And the dog promptly flopped down on the cushiony bed made from folded quilts and began her surveillance of the surrounding tranquil woods.

Henry opened the cabin door and ushered you in.

The inside was just as spectacular as the outside and your mouth came open with surprise.

‘I know you did all of this, didn’t you. It’s so… beautiful.’

‘I had help,’ he answered modestly. ‘It’s been a work in progress for years. Still got some things to do, but it’s liveable.’

Liveable, you scoffed silently. That was an understatement. The place was an obviously handcrafted masterpiece. From the matte blonde wood flooring and the warm caramel panelling, it was a masculine tribute to a rustic lifestyle. The appliances were new, but understatedly retro and wood burning. The main living room was broad and comfortable with soft couches and homespun appointments. You followed Henry down a narrow hallway to the left. Off of that hallway was a short staircase that led to the upper floor.

‘There’s a guest bedroom down there,’ he said pointing to the door at the end of the corridor and the master is upstairs.’

He gestured that you go up the stairs and you complied. Opening the door at the top of the stairs, you found yourself walking into a bright warm room with a large bed facing a broad clean window that overlooked the trees and the lake behind the cabin. It smelt of pine and you wondered if he picked that scent because he thought you might like it. You did like it.

Henry put your bag on the floor by the bed.

‘This is your room.’

He rested a hand on the glossy dresser top which had been pushed against the far wall.

‘You can put your stuff in here, or hang them up in the closet.’

He opened the door next to the dresser to show you the empty closet space.

‘Bathroom’s over here.’

He crossed the room, opened the second door and you poked your head in, pleased to see a full bath and tub.

That tub might come in handy for sexytimes.

Once the tour was completed you smiled at him, but left the question of where he was going to stay to burn on the tip of your tongue.

It didn’t stay there long for Henry beat you to it.

‘I’ll be downstairs… in the guest room.’

There was hesitation in his voice and he trailed off seeming suddenly shy and awkward.

Was he as nervous about your visit as you were?

He didn’t look at you as he put a hand against the back of his head, which you knew was an unconscious self-soothing gesture. But you didn’t want to put him out of his misery just yet. You were enjoying it too much.

‘If… when you need me,’ he finished.

The implication of needing him, at night, hung heavily in the air and trailing a finger up his bare forearm, you squashed a smile.

‘And you’ll be downstairs…’ you said, keeping your voice serious and your expression neutral. ‘If… I mean when I need you. You’ll be downstairs? In the guest bedroom? Downstairs?’

He looked at you a moment, his own expression a mild mix of confusion and then that sweet slow bloom of understanding in his eyes. You saw the exact moment that he realised you were teasing him and you couldn’t help laughing.

‘C’mon you,’ you said, slipping your hand into his. ‘I’m starving.’

***

Once downstairs, he packed a big red-topped cooler with vegetables and potatoes and steaks that had been marinating overnight, as well as cutlery, plates and other sundry items. Carrying only a chilled six pack of bottled lager, you followed him down the winding gravel path to the lake. There was a rustic firepit down there flanked by two dark wood adirondack chairs and a picnic table.

You wondered if he made all of that himself and then chuckled. Of course he did.

You watched him dump the cooler next to the grated firepit and go to grab a few already split logs from a nearby pile. Clutching the thin cardboard handle of the sixpack in both hands you felt unbearably girly and unwilling to admit that watching him start a fire with a small pile of tinder and a magnesium firestick, aroused the fuck out of you. It didn’t help that his jeans stretched nicely across his thighs when he crouched lower and gently blew onto the young flame before quickly adding additional fuel until the fire was stable enough to tent the logs over it.

Henry rose and dusted his hands against the seat of his jeans and you cleared your throat.

‘That was sexy,’ you said and laughed at your own audacity.

He glanced at you over his shoulder, clearly appreciative of your praise, but instead of addressing it, he pointed to the short pier.

‘Do you see the green nylon sack over there?’

You looked and nodded.

‘Take the bottles and put ‘em in the sack and lower it into the water. That’ll keep ‘em cold.’

Feeling helpful, you did as you were told. When you returned a few minutes later, you hoisted yourself up onto the top of the picnic table and rested your feet on the bench seat.

‘Do you want some help?’ you asked after a moment.

‘Nope,’ he answered, and cast another amused look at you over his shoulder. ‘You just sit there and be pretty for me, ok?’

You preened, and lightly patted your face. It was as pretty as you were going to get.

‘I think I can do that. Sure.’

And you sat there thinking about having children with him. You imagined taking them on camping trips and teaching them all of the survival skills they needed to fend for themselves in the event the zombie apocalypse drove your family into the woods. So you asked him if he was prepared for the apocalypse and sat there rapt as he explained his six point plan and how he had been planning and storing for the last three years.

When dinner was ready, the two of you ate at the picnic table and drank most of the beer and discussed the pros and cons of wasting ammo to achieve a head shot as opposed to just disabling the zombie so that you could escape it.

‘Yeah, but you are the one who’s gonna get the successful headshots. I’m just out there swinging a rake or something.’

‘Can get you a katana if you like.’

You laughed and swigged your beer. Pointing the mouth of the bottle at him you scoffed.

‘A katana?? I’d more likely slice myself up before I’d do any damage to a zombie.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Henry replied easily and stood up to stoke the fire.

He helped himself to another few spoonfuls of vegetables, which when offered, you declined.

‘A little training and some practice, you’d be fine.’

‘You have a lot of misplaced faith in me, sir,’ you teased him.

Henry was quick to answer.

‘You’re wrong. You already proved to be capable, ingenious and tougher than you think. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.’

Your chest tightened at the traumatic memory and you stared down at your empty bottle. The helpless tears started to threaten again.

But biting them back, you reached across the table and put your hand over his. Henry took it, curved your fingers over his and brought your hand to his lips.

Henry’s open emotion made you feel just as raw and vulnerable as you had that fateful day. The day that entwined your lives together forever.

You reached for him with your other hand and stroked his cheek, trailing your fingers through his beard which continued to amaze you with how soft it was to touch. He captured your other hand and kissed that one as well and then held them both. And when he smiled, you smiled in return. It was all right now.

It was starting to get dark and across the lake, you could see the setting sun disappearing behind the mountains. Henry got up and began clearing the table.

‘ Go and sit by the fire,’ he instructed you when you tried to help.

If he wanted to do all of the work, who were you to stop him. You slid onto the cool chair and drew your knees up and to the side to get comfortable just as Aika came trotting out of the woods. She went immediately to you and put her slobbery chin on your thigh. You rubbed her furry head until she was tired of the attention and went to beg scraps from Henry.

‘Coffee?’ he asked a moment later and lifted an old battered tin percolator to show you that he meant coffee and not anything else.

‘I could have one, sure.’

You had got used to black coffee during your time on the front and really never bothered to change it when you went back to civilian life. The cup he gave you was hot and tasted fresh with a hint of vanilla.

‘Vanilla,’ you said and he chuckled, seating himself in the chair next to you.

‘I ah… I got used to it over there, now I can’t drink any other kind.’

You didn’t mind it. Not at all and the two of you sat in companionable silence.

‘It’s a beautiful place, Henry. A beautiful cabin. I am amazed that you did all of this.’

‘My friends helped. This is their place when they want it too.’

Aika flopped down on the space between the chairs and Henry reached down to pat her head.

‘Are you glad I’m here?’ you asked finally, admittedly fishing a little for compliments.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m very glad you’re here.’

You were going to say something else but a yawn caught you off guard. Now that you were full and content and safe, sleepiness began to creep in around the corners.

‘You had a long flight,’ Henry offered as explanation, holding out his hand to take your cup. ‘If you want to go on in to sleep, I’ll take care of things here out here.’

‘No! No, I don’t want to leave. I’m not too sleepy.’

‘Awright,’ he chuckled and leaned back into the chair.

Aika yawned then and you did the same. You put the cup on the flat arm of the chair and closed your eyes. You had never felt so happy and before you knew it, you had drifted off. When you woke with a start later, it was dark and the fire had been extinguished. A glimmer of faint stars reflected by the lake was your only anchor point that confirmed where you were.

But it was the type of dark that could only be achieved when there was no light pollution from nearby cities and you felt a twinge of panic.

‘Henry?’ you called sitting up.

He wasn’t in the chair next to you and Aika was gone.

Shit! What if the killer was still out there?

You heard footsteps approaching on the gravel path.

‘I’m here.’

His voice was warm and steady.

There was no moon and standing, you blindly searched in front of you as he came closer. He put his hand around you, resting it low on your back then pulled you to him. At his touch, a jolt of welcomed pleasure spread out from your core.

‘Why are you out here lurking in the dark?’ you giggled softly, pressing your hands flat on his chest.

‘Making sure nothing carries you off,’ he replied just as quietly and gave you a squeeze.

Henry was clearly feeling for the edges of your boundaries and you deeply appreciated that about him. He hadn’t forced your hand and he was eagerly playing by your rules.

‘I’m glad to have my big strong protector to save me from the monsters. Are you… gonna take me inside now?’

‘Yeah. C’mon.’

God, his voice was so unbearably soft and alluring and you knew that if you weren’t careful, you would find yourself beneath him in his bed tonight.

You had to be careful, so once inside the cabin, you kissed him and bade him goodnight. Admittedly, that probably wasn’t how he expected the evening to end but you knew you were going to make the wait worth his while.

After showering thoroughly, you changed your clothes and sat down on the edge of the soft bed. The cabin was quiet except for the normal sounds of the woods coming in through the open window and the sounds of Henry moving around downstairs.

I could get used to this.

After a moment you heard the shower running downstairs and you immediately worried that you hadn’t left enough hot water for him. Stretching out on top of the quilt you listened and imagined his naked body, his wet, soapy naked body and a tingle raced up your thighs and pooled insistent heat in your groin. You bit your lip and pushed your hand between your legs. You held your hand there, still and unmoving and listened until everything had fallen silent on the lower floor.

You breathed quietly, in and out and in and out again and relaxed, drawing your hand away and tucking it across your midsection.

Sleep, you thought. It was all going to be more rational in the morning.

Bright sunlight and sweet bird songs greeted you the next morning. After washing up, you followed the scent of coffee and breakfast downstairs.

The front room was empty, but there was food and a still steaming coffee pot on the stove. The sound of Aika barking outside led you to the door and then out onto the porch. Henry stood at the bottom of the steps holding a red ball which he launched into the air for the dog to chase. He turned when you came to stand next to him.

‘Morning,’ he grinned and kissed you when you lifted your face to ask for it.

‘Hi. How did you sleep?’

‘Yeah, good, good. You?’

You stretched in the warm morning sunlight and fondly watched Aika race back to you. She dropped the ball and danced away, to wait for the next missile. Henry obliged and the dog took off again.

‘It was better than I expected,’ you admitted happily. ‘It usually takes me a couple of nights before I can get comfortable in a new place.’

He nodded and took a drink from his flowered cup.

‘Good. Hungry?’

‘I love that you’re always feeding me,’ you said joyfully. ‘Can we eat down by the lake?’

‘Anything you want, baby,’ he agreed.

The air by the lake was warm and fresh and a few metres out on the water was a group of ducks having a morning swim. Basking in the sun with a hearty meal and an intriguing and funny man was the most indulgent thing you could have possibly done. And you held onto the moment for as long as it presented itself.

You even agreed to a short easy hike after breakfast and in a sun drenched meadow you lay in the sweet smelling grass and talked about nothing in particular.

The day passed in uneventful bliss and again, Henry prepared dinner over the fire and afterwards the two of you sat side by side on the top porch step to watch some unexpected fireworks in the eastern sky.

During a lull in the colourful explosions, you went inside to grab a seat cushion.

When you came onto the porch, you were careful not to kick the cup at Henry’s side. Instead you picked up your own cup and gesturing for him to make room, you tossed down the cushion and sat on the step right between his knees. A little smile blossomed on your face, a response to the feeling of peace spreading through you, and you leaned back against Henry using his thighs as arm rests.

‘I like this,’ you said quietly and relaxed into the warm hands gently kneading your shoulders.

‘Yeah.’

The sound of him, low and husky behind you, filled you with pleasure. You pressed harder between his open legs and he went still. This was the moment of truth. Your heart thrummed with anticipation against your ribs and when he relaxed, so did you.

A beat of silence drifted between you and then he spoke.

‘You wanna go inside with me?’

There was a loud scratching sound of your nails raking along his jeans, evidence of your involuntary reaction to his clear invitation.

‘Yes. I-- want to.’

The breath he let out was audible.

‘C’mon then.’

Henry pushed himself up from the step and effortlessly lifted you in the process. It was like floating on air, reckless yet safe in his strong arms and when your feet finally hit the porch, you were loath to be released. You turned around to face him and slid your arms about his neck. The force of his kiss surprised you, and you clung tighter to him, opening your mouth to take all of him in. Henry pulled you against him and walked backwards towards the cabin door.

You cried out with delight when he crouched and swept you up into his arms. Just like the charming prince he touted himself to be.

‘I love this,’ you murmured, nipping at his lower lip and then suckling it between your own. ‘Why don’t you fuck me in your bed.’

‘Fuck,’ he groaned and clutched you to his chest. ‘You’re gonna drive me crazy, baby.’

‘I promise I’ll drive you crazy.’

Henry didn’t waste time in carrying you to the small bedroom at the end of the hall.

His room was clean, and quiet. Not as fancy as the master bedroom, but it was enough with its bed and bureau and the small adjoining shower. Aika, who had been napping on the floor at the foot of the bed perked up and cautiously thumped her tail as if wondering why the hell the two humans were making so much noise.

‘Aika,’ said Henry desperately. ‘Out!’

With a groan of a petulant child, the dog heaved herself up and reluctantly left the room. Henry booted the door shut behind her and then set you down onto your feet. There was enough gloaming light coming in through the windows for you to see him grin.

He cupped your face between his hands and kissed you gently, thoroughly and then let his fingers trail down over your shoulders, your arms and then across your waist where he curled his fingers beneath the hem of your baggy tee shirt. Instinctively you raised your arms when he lifted the shirt up and over your head. He tossed the shirt onto the chair in the corner. He then turned you around and unhooked your bra which was also tossed to join the shirt. And still keeping your back to him, he kissed your shoulder and then the other and then kissed the space between them. The light scratch of his beard on such an unexpectedly tender place made you shiver and your nipples harden. He hummed quietly, a sound of absolute satisfaction and he nipped you lightly where your shoulder sloped down to your collarbone. You sighed voluptuously and leaned into his muscular chest, turning your upper body slightly and reaching back to smooth your hand over his head.

Henry slipped his hands up from your waist and cupped your bare breasts and kissed you deeply as if trying to drink in every bit of you. You felt utterly possessed, and helpless in the face of his overwhelmingly masculine sexual power. You would give him everything, anything and all he had to do was ask.

He slid his hands down your belly again and into the elastic waistband of your shorts. He eased them over your hips and chased your curves to the warm, velvety space between your legs. Highly aware of his two thick fingers beginning to work into your wetness you arched and moaned breathlessly, your voice rising sweetly into the warmth of the room. A dark knowing chuckle rumbled behind you and Henry dragged his tongue across your lower lip.

All of your attention narrowed to that single delicious focal point of those deft fingers stroking your quivering clit and sliding deeper inside you.

‘I want you,’ Henry murmured and the demand behind his words made you shudder. ‘I want you so bad.’

Yes, you thought. I want you. The moment I met you, I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you.

You turned in his arms and a wave of lust crashed over you at the sight of him. He slipped those two previous busy fingers into his mouth and sucked off your juice. You crooked a finger at him, beckoning him closer as you backed towards the bed. Henry whipped off his shirt and took his time unbuckling his belt and shoving down his jeans until he could stand beautifully naked before you, his thick beautiful cock hard and standing at the ready.

You were ready for him indeed. Henry closed the space between you and grabbing you about the waist, he hoisted you up and sprawled you messily across the bed. You sat up, reached for him and dragged him down atop you. He was heavy, and pressed you steadily into the soft sheets and you never wanted to escape him. Henry kissed you hard, punishingly, muffling your sudden cry of pleasure with his mouth. You hugged and kissed him and swore under your breath, eager for the soft velvety feel of his blood-hot cock sliding up along your inner thigh.

‘Come inside me, Henry.’

It was all the invitation he needed.

The newness of him sliding into you hurt just a little, a small but welcomed reminder of what it meant when two lovers finally joined. Henry stilled then, and breathed quietly, as if fighting his urge to cum. You stroked his shoulders and kissed his face, encouraging him to focus only on you. He lifted his head and held your gaze as he rocked up into you again, then again, slowly and deliberately, stoking that fire smouldering between the two of you. You arched against him, vaguely aware of your own lusty sounds and Henry increased the intensity of his thrusts and in turn heightened the ferocity of your pleasure.

Henry lit your fuse and it consumed you. It crackled over your sensitive flesh and along every nerve ending and you responded eagerly to every slow drag of his cock in and out of you. He made you feel alive, more alive than ever before and at the moment of your orgasm you closed your eyes and let his name escape your lips, offering it up as a prayer, as praise. As thanks.

You held onto him when he finally completed the circuit and poured himself inside you.

It took several moments of panting beneath him before Henry moved off of you and you immediately felt the loss. So you lay there, sweat cooling on your skin and basking in the warm feelings of well being. When your senses returned, you got up and went to the bathroom for a quick pee and wash up and when you returned, the bed was turned down and you crawled gratefully beneath the soft sheets.

‘That was fucking amazing,’ you murmured to the man next to you. ‘That was the best sex I have ever had.’

Henry chuckled and sounded pleased.

‘Yeah. I waited a long time for you.’

‘Oh yeah? The moment I put my hand in yours outside of the barracks, you what? Wanted to carry me off to fuck me?’

He grunted.

‘Yeah! Something like that. I would’ve at least got your name first, /then/ put you over my shoulder and carried you off.’

You smiled to yourself and imagined the scene and how shocked the men would have been to watch their stoic captain haul off the journalist for a little fun. You closed your eyes, only intending to get more comfortable to continue the conversation. However, again sleep had other ideas.

Light burst behind your eyelids and the sound of shouting male voices filled your ears. You struggled to open your eyes, but something was holding them sealed shut. Another explosion and then the sound of rocks raining down all around you. I’m on fire, you thought, desperately trying to claw your way out of burning clothes. Your hands were already seared into talons of fused flesh and bone and there was nothing you could do to stop the pain. Sand blasted your vulnerable flesh and you opened your mouth to scream, only to be choked by tiny merciless shards of hot glass. You continued to scream and scream barely aware of the hands on your arms and the voice calling you name. It was Henry and he was shaking you out of your nightmare.

‘You’re all right, baby. You’re all right,’ he murmured pulling you against him. ‘It’s just a nightmare. You’re all right now. I’m here.’

As the dream melted away, you curled up into his arms and burst into tears. Henry gentled you until you quieted and even beyond that until eventually you were able to speak.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry…’

‘Don’t be sorry, baby,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t be. I’m here. I’ll protect you.’

You lifted your tear wet face and kissed him. Then again and again, rolling onto your back and pulling him with you.

‘Make love to me, Henry. Please. Make love to me.’

‘I’ll take care of you,’ he promised.

And you trusted him to do just that.

The morning rain kept the two of you inside the snug cabin and in bed where you took your time exploring and delighting in the mystery of each other.

‘Does it still hurt?’ you asked, pulling back the sheets and stroking your fingers along the thick jagged scar that cut across his lower belly.

Henry looked down at where you were touching him and shook his head.

‘No. Not anymore.’

You fell silent, listening to the rasp of your dry fingers gliding across his skin. Henry curled an arm about you when you put your head on his shoulder.

‘You never went to talk to someone about it, did you.’

It wasn’t a question and as much as you wanted to feign ignorance, you couldn’t shut down your immediate and visceral reaction to his observation.

No. You had buried yourself in work the moment you got back to the States and didn’t want to think about the trauma that had befallen you. What was the point? It was over, wasn’t it?

Henry felt your body tense and he rubbed your back.

‘That’s why you’re still having nightmares.’

Your voice was small when you spoke, hoping to be heard against the lashing rain.

‘I thought I could handle it.’

He chuckled.

‘I know. I thought I could handle it too. They don’t let us go home without group therapy. I fucking hate it, but I do it, because it works.’

You stopped the back and forth motion of your hand and just rested it on his scar. It was the thing that drew you together, the thing that reminded him of you.

Henry turned his head and kissed your forehead.

‘You’re so strong. And you’re carrying this weight. But you gotta let it go, baby.’

‘I know. I… dream about you dying in the explosion and then burning to death. I can’t stop it. I can’t help you.’

Henry held you close.

‘You’re alive and I’m alive. I’m right here with you. You don’t have to worry when you’re with me.’

You slept against his chest for most of the day and dreamed, not of violence in a desolate place but of a bright new future.

-end part 5 you naughty little things. I love you ;D Please consider helping me to broaden my audience by reblogging this fic and sharing. Thank you.

Tag list: @lightsidecalling @omgkatinka @igotkatiepowers @the-soot-sprite @harrysthiccthighss @little-green-love @foxyjwls007 @angreav @maizyistrash @liquorlaughslove @supernaturallymarvellous @laketaj24 @october505 @inlovewithhisblueeyes @foodieforthoughts @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @singeramg @sapphirescrolls @brandycranby @zealoushound @eldarwen333 @beck07990 @lunedelorient @henrythickcavill @kalesrebellion @angrythingstarlight @lavitabella87 @kebabgirl67 @hail-horror-queen

#henry cavill #captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #man of steel #geralt #the witcher #reader insert

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littlemissnoname13 · 4 years ago

Text

Wisps of Smoke (Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader) - Part two

Summary: Draco and y/n find themselves drawn to an abandoned classroom every single night

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: excessive smoking, mature language, mature themes, smut, female receiving, 18+ reader discretion is advised.

A/n: a big thank you to everyone that read part one. I adore each and every one of you and your feedback sm <3

at this point, I am projecting my cigarette cravings onto Draco Malfoy. Sorry. (Smoking is injurious to health)

Word count: 3000

You can read part one over here

Friday

When your eyes opened the next morning, you found your thoughts to be littered with the kisses you shared with Malfoy.

And even if you’d somehow managed to forget the way he suckled, bit and murmured onto your skin, you had purple hickeys marking your neck to remind you.

This was a mistake.

Frantically wrapping your green and silver scarf around your neck, you made a run towards your Potions class but before you could even make it to class, you found yourself pulled into a small gap in the wall making your body go into an instantaneous fight or flight mode.

“What in the actual fuc—”

You were silenced with a kiss on your lips once again.

Draco pushed you further up against the wall and moved his lips desperately against yours—kissing your mouth senseless.

“Do you just lurk around in the hallways waiting to sneak up on people?!” You asked in a breathless whisper as his lips made contact with the base of your neck again after he’d loosened your scarf.

“Only sometimes.” He smirked.

The wetness that seeped in through your panties and all the way down your inner thighs was a tell tale sign, warning you to stay away from the abandoned classroom that night.

And you did just that.

Even if you had reached for your door that night, Adrian’s sudden arrival ensured that you stayed away.

~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday

It was nearly four in the morning and anyone with a hint of sanity inside of them would have been fast asleep—if they could sleep through the ear-splitting sound of thunder that is.

It had been raining for three consecutive nights and the sky was as clamorous and angry as ever.

Draco scoffed to himself at the sound of sleep.

The whole idea now seemed so foreign to him. It was like he had forgotten what a good night's sleep even felt like.

With his fourth cigarette for the night lit up and between his lips, He leaned against the glass window waiting for you to walk in wearing your insanely soft night dress that he simply couldn’t stop thinking about.

Why was he waiting for you?

It wasn’t like you were obliged to come to that classroom every night.

It wasn’t like both of you now had an unspoken agreement that you’d meet up in this murky classroom to talk, make out—maybe even shag.

How ravishing you’d look with your slip dress slipped off into a pool at your feet.

He couldn’t help but imagine you seated on the windowsill with your legs parted. He’d eat you out all night if he could. Lick up long, slow, deliberate licks up your slit and place soft, airy kisses along your inner thighs.

The images of you straddling him with your tits bouncing up and down as he pumped into you refused to leave his mind, leaving him all hot, bothered and frenzied with lust.

Draco forced himself to snap out of his vision and shook his head, restraining himself from reaching towards the buttons of his trousers.

The rain clouds had started to clear up a bit and the sky had slowly started to change colours with the darkest shade of black on the top of the sky trickling down into shades of lighter blue indicating the break of day.

He wanted to give himself hell for waiting up all night for you for the second time that week—infuriated with the way you made him feel.

He wanted you out of his system—You and your stupid silk slip dress.

Your stupid stupid stupid slip dress.

But before he could even manage to make an exit from the classroom, you pounced right into him with a thud.

The way you collided with him resembled the collision of opposite magnetic poles—powerful and inevitable.

"Took you long enough." Draco breathed, holding you tightly against him as he desperately ran his hands along your sides feeling the fabric of your silky nightdress.

"I tried to stay away. I tried so hard." You whispered, and he instantly placed his lips onto yours furrowing his brows as you fiercely kissed him back.

“But I just couldn’t help myself.” You mumbled between kisses as he lifted you up, causing you to wrap your legs around his torso as he carried you.

“Good.”

Both of you knew there would be implications to your actions but that seemed like a problem for future Draco and y/n.

You let your head fall onto his shoulder and you moaned loudly when you felt him grip the exposed skin of your thigh—his fingertips and his ring dug deep into your skin making you hiss into the base of his neck from the sting of pleasure.

If he was going to go around leaving markings on your flesh, so would you.

It was only fair.

You went on ahead and sucked on his flesh as he carried you all the way to the window and sat you on the windowsill.

Hastily tugging the straps of your nightie that had imprinted itself into his subconscious, he made the smooth fabric slide right off your body and into a pool on the floor.

“Nothing underneath?” He chuckled gazing intently at your naked body making a pink flush appear on your face as you nodded closing your legs together and crossing your arms over your breasts.

His vision just didn’t do justice to the sight in front of him.

The sight you exposed, sitting timidly on the windowsill with rosy cheeks woke up something primal inside of him.

You felt him kneel on the floor in front of you, parting your legs and gently moving your arms away from your body.

“So fucking perfect.” Draco drew in a sharp breath before leaning in to capture your lips into his, brushing his hands over your shoulders, trailing all the way down your arms and back up again. “Don’t you dare cover yourself up.”

There was an unusually strong taste of cigarettes fused into the flavor of what felt like mint and apples on his lips and you tried to extract every bit of it—running your tongue along his bottom lip earning a feral groan from him.

He let his hands ghost around your breast—barely touching.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to.

He did.

So fucking bad.

But he wanted confirmation from you.

He wanted to know if you wanted this as much as he did. A sign, a sigh, a moan, anything.

“Draco.” You murmured into the kiss with your hands yanking on his black button down—fumbling with the buttons.

Never had he ever heard a sweeter sound.

Actually scratch that, your moans were even sweeter as he massaged and kneaded your breasts, tugging and pulling onto your hardened nipples.

“Oh, Draco.”

His given name on your swollen lips sounded like an invitation he simply couldn’t resist— so fucking innocent and mischievous at the same time.

The lower his kisses trailed, the more incoherent your speech got.

Wet, open mouthed, starved kisses that started along your jaw and down your neck moved lower and lower until you felt like you had forgotten every other word that wasn’t “Draco.” Or fuck.

You felt his hot breath on your hardened nipple as he swirled his tongue around it—catching the left one in his mouth. You grabbed a fistful of his blonde hair as he started to suck and your moans only encouraged him to suck harder.

He wanted to worship every square inch of your body, on his knees in front of you like you were his only deity —repeating his licks on both of your nipples, occasionally stopping to litter dark purple bruises around your chest.

Draco paused and looked up at you with his silvery greys.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t picture this exact scene in this head a thousand times over.

Sure, your complete inability to stay quiet made him livid.

Sure, the way you walked around in translucent white tops, absolutely unaware of the one too many curious onlookers pissed him off.

Sure, he’d thought about pushing Adrian Pucey off his broom.

But the way you sat on that window sill with your legs spread out—wetness dripping down your legs and your pretty little cunt glistening was straight out of Draco’s deepest darkest fantasy.

You arched your back bucking your hips forward and he smirked at your silent pleas.

And when the tip of his tongue gently massaged your clit, it was like your entire body was set ablaze.

You’d never felt that way before and he was just getting started—making you let out a sound even you didn’t know you were capable of making.

It was somewhere along the lines of a moan and a gasp. Maybe a combination of both.

After a long, slow torturous lick up your folds, he looked up at you.

“You taste..” another slow lick “so fucking good.”

“Please—Drac..Fuck—”

You lost it when he started to eat you out. It was as if he was starved for this.

He kitten licked, kissed and nipped you like he’d been waiting for this very moment—this moment with you on the windowsill with his blonde head in between your legs, fingers bunching his hair, calling out only his name with a plethora of other swears.

And you slowly understood.

You understood the screams coming from whoever he was shagging the other night.

There was nothing tentative or hesitant in the way he moved his tongue.

He knew what he was doing, he knew what he wanted, he wanted you.

“Draco—” You moaned jutting your hips forward when his tongue made contact with just the right spot. “Fuck— god Draco yes right there—ah-.”

“Right here?” He teased as he continued to lick. With his grey eyes focused on you—the way you bit your lips and rolled your eyes back in pleasure.

He wanted to remember it, recall and replay it in his mind for hours on end.

He didn’t care about the mellow and golden rays of sunlight pouring in through the window glass you had your back rested against.

He didn’t care about any fucking body or any fucking thing.

You let out another laboured gasp when you felt him push his finger inside you. One finger at first, allowing you to get used to the sensation.

And then he put in a second finger, the cold metal of his ring making contact with your sensitive skin.

There was a strange feeling inside of your stomach. It was pressure—kind of like a knot waiting to snap.

It was delicious.

It had you begging for more.

You simply couldn’t think of anything or anyone else.

Whatever he was doing with his fingers and tongue—you just wanted more.

“Please Draco—don’t stop.”

The sounds you were making made him want to bend you over, press you against the window and fuck you mercilessly, but there was a part of him that reminded him that you deserved more than that.

You deserved more than just a quick little fuck in this classroom.

He wanted to take you, make you his, make you cum over and over again and although he wasn’t sure he could do the former in that particular moment in time, he sure as hell could do the latter.

His fingers and tongue moved in perfect coordination. Each taste accompanied by his fingers pumping in and out of you.

Draco knew you were close. He could tell by the way you gripped onto his hair while you clenched around his fingers.

“Let yourself go y/n.” He murmured. “Yes, that’s it—good girl.”

You felt the tight knot in your lower abdomen snap at his words, and you felt overcome with pleasure that made your legs spasm and your toes curl.

“Draco..I think I’m..ah—”

“That’s it y/n, be a good girl and cum on my mouth yeah?”

Your high felt like an ocean wave—sweeping, billowing and crashing all over your body.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that to you.” He looked up at you, accomplished as his lips twisted upwards and you looked down at him with a peachy kind of afterglow on your cheeks.

“And I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

~~~~~~~~~

Sunday

A four poster bed, a nightstand and a desk full of nothing but books stacked upon one another and an opulent looking rug on the floor.

Of course, Malfoy had his own bedroom.

You kept telling yourself that it was the softness of his pricey pillow, laden with his scent and his thousand thread-count sheets that made you want to spend the rest of eternity there.

It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Draco kept grumbling in his sleep while pulling you closer to him every passing second or two.

It had nothing to do with how content you felt with your bare body pressed up against him.

He still had his shirt on, unbuttoned all the way allowing you to brush your fingertips against his toned abdomen.

You could tell it was already late evening by the way bare minimum light seeped into the lake and in through the windows.

You had spent the entire Sunday in his room, where he snogged you, ate you out and gave you orgasms upon orgasms.

He was adamant with the way he said “not yet.” every time you tried to unbuckle his pants.

You sighed and allowed your lips to graze his forehead for the briefest of seconds before shimming free from his arms.

After sliding your dress back on, you tiptoed to his dresser when you saw a pack of unopened cigarettes on it.

Blame it on mere curiosity but you slowly took a cancer stick out and placed it between your lips—right in the far corner just the way he did it and looked at yourself in the mirror.

Your neck was marked in a trail of purple bruises and your hair looked like it had definitely seen better days than this.

As messy as you looked, the reflection stared back at you looking content.

"If you wanted a smoke, all you had to do was ask."

The husky tone of his voice startled you. He was propped up on his elbows with his messy blonde hair covering most of his forehead making you weak in your knees.

Damn you Draco Lucius Malfoy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Monday

Both of you had showed up to your potions class late—your shirt buttoned all wrong and his blonde hair in a riot of knots and tangles.

It was the result of an intense snog fest against a wall but nobody needed to know that.

“That’s the wrong ingredient y/l/n.” Draco scoffed pretending like his tongue wasn’t in your mouth just a few minutes ago.

Two can play at this game.

“It is not.” You glared at him making poor Blaise next to you wish he could just shrivel away.

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

~~~~~~~~

Tuesday

“Oh and thank you very much for getting me into detention yesterday.” You said sarcastically while he quietly smoked his cigarette next to you.

And thank you for making me fall apart by the mercy of your fingers at detention.

You were seated on the same window sill but this time, you had clothes on—three whole layers of clothing actually.

“Pleasure.” He chucked, exhaling.

With his exhale, wisps of smoke escaped his lips creating a veil around you two.

The smell had started to get tolerable, familiar—pleasant even.

It was strange how the human mind was conditioned into latching itself onto anything that brought it comfort.

Where there was smoke there was Draco.

It came as a fixed packaged deal and you didn’t feel the need to complain anymore.

“So, does Pucey know what you’ve been up to these days or is he still as oblivious as ever?

“Adrian wouldn’t notice if I went missing for a week.” You shrugged.

“Then why are you with him?”

“As cliched as it sounds, its complicated.”

~~~~~~~

Wednesday

“I’m starting to believe I’m a terrible influence on you.” He muttered, raising only one of his eyebrows as he watched you pull out the lit up cigarette from his mouth.

“Absolutely, without a doubt.” You confirmed, placing his cigarette between your lips attempting to inhale.

The second you did, you were left a coughing, wheezing wreck—throat on fire, tears streaming down your cheek.

You quickly drank the water he’d already conjured with a simple aguamenti charm and proceeded to smoke again.

His heart felt the strange and inconvenient kind of ache seeing you make a mess out of yourself, struggling with the coughing.

He’d also noticed how you put the cigarette on the far corner of your lip the way he did but he decided to not bring that up.

“And why have you suddenly decided to take up smoking?”

“I’ve grown quite fond of the taste.” You blurted involuntarily.

“Oh y/n.” He shook his head. He’d never seen you smoking so there was only one explanation and the explanation made him feel things he’d rather not.

“Cm’here.”

His hands gently grasped into the hair on the nape of your neck as he pressed his lips on you.

“Could have just said you wanted to kiss me.” He smirked against your lips.

“Shut up.” You murmured back. “Just kiss me.”

~~~~~~~~~

Thursday

You always did feel bolder, livelier and happier towards the end of the week.

Maybe it was the Fire whisky you two and brought to the classroom in his flask coursing through your veins but you felt brave.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to do.” You declared so courageously, taken aback by your own capability of sounding like a reckless Gryffindor.

“And what would that be y/n?”

You pulled him by his green tie and brushed your lips on his for a fraction of a second before dropping down on your knees in front of where he was seated.

“This.”

To be continued....

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 3 teaser:

Draco watched with fascination as you tried to slip back into the remains of your silk slip dress.

“I’m sorry about your dress.”

“That’s okay.” You mumbled absently as you tried to get your dress to stay on your body.

“Here.” He said hesitantly before handing you his blazer. “Wear this.”

“Going back to my dorm with your blazer doesn’t seem like a good idea.” You chuckled as the fabric drowned you. “What am I going to tell Pansy?”

His lips quirked up into a faint smile.

“You’re not going to your dorm y/l/n.”

Part three is available here.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @lieswithoutfairytales @dracomalfoys-wh0re @hannahhobnob @sycathorn-slush @mxl-foyrecs @daringvixon @linetteyde @imbadwithunsernames @dracoswhore007 @myunngi @goawayimreadingbeach @loxbbg @icedlattewithalmondmilk @paulina1998

Thank you all for asking to be on my tag list for this story. I would give you all a blonde ferret if I could. (p.s. I was unable to tag the ones in bold for some reason. :’( )

#harry potter #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #slytherin #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco smut #draco x you #draco x reader smut

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

Text

One Summer In Paris ~A Small White Lie~ JJK

WORD COUNT: 3.9 K

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, ex-lovers to lovers,

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Jeon Jungkook had always loved Paris with its amazing views, incredible museums and the small Bookshop right across from the Effiel Tower. It was were he spent a lot of his summer breaks as a kid so he loved it well into his adulthood. There was one bookshop he rented a room in the summer that changed his life. It was a place where he felt happy and at peace whenever he had the chance to stay there. Where he fell in love for the first time and had his first heartbreak, a lot of firsts for him were in Paris. But what happens when he goes back to the same book shop four years later and finds the love of his life in the arms of another with a daughter who looks suspiciously like him…

THEMES: Single Parent, Jungkook x Fem!Reader, self insert, Smut will be included in a later chapter [Italics - Flashback]

MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS || NEXT

The rain was hammering down on the streets as you tried to make a decision about running out there or to stay under the small umbrella above the shop you'd just come out of, it was supposed to be summer but the rain made it seem as though it was in the middle of winter and a storm had hit. You knew sometimes thunderstorms hit whenever it got too hot but you never expected a downpour like this, you were soaked from head to toe after walking out in the rain for only a couple of seconds.

"Miss, we're locking up." You nodded taking your handbag and placing it over your head in an attempt to stop yourself from getting wetter and you began to try your luck at running to the bookshop you were living above for the Summer. Some summer this was turning out to be though, it had done nothing but rain today despite the forecast being nothing but sunshine and clear skies. Your phone had once again lied to you. Your only day off so far and it was being ruined by the rain, your new outfit was also ruined thanks to drivers splashing puddles up you.

As you ran by the riverside you noticed all of the couples sharing an umbrella together, coming to the city of love alone was something you'd wanted to do since you were a kid but seeing people like this made you feel lonely. Until you realised how cold and wet they must have been, then you thought about how stupid it was to just be standing out in the rain like nothing was happening.

Your legs felt like they were on fire at the rate you were running but you still weren't any closer to the bookshop, you'd spent your day off from work exploring the city alone trying to get used to your surroundings but now you'd wished you'd just stayed at home instead, curled up in bed with a warm cup of hot chocolate and one of the many books that you had to choose from. One of the many joys of working in a business where your passion and hobby came into one space and made it feel more like a pleasure than a job. Thunder sounds and you groaned jumping over a puddle and sprinting to hide under an umbrella at a new shop, you checked inside your bag to see everything was practically ruined, the book you'd brought with you to keep your occupied while you had lunch under the Effiel tower was drenched. In fact, the only things that weren't ruined were your phone, a couple of presents you'd gotten for your friends and a fridge magnet you'd gotten for yourself. You'd made a small promise to collect small fridge magnets over your time there, something your friends had done whenever they travelled somewhere new.

"Shit," You hissed realising the time, it was starting to get really, really late and you knew that the shop owner wanted you to be there when the next lodger would turn up to take the apartment above yours in the shop. Grace was kind but when it came to being late and tardiness she drew a line. Sighing as you looked at the sky, it didn't look like it was going to let up any time soon so you just began sprinting towards the shop so you wouldn't be too late.

The shop lights were still on so you began heading towards the door praying that Grace wasn't going to be too mad at you for being late. You were about to head through the door when you crashed into someone knocking your bag behind you and sending their suitcase against the floor, flying open with the contents spilling out.

"I'm so sorry! It- I wasn't paying attention." You rushed out as you began handing the boy bits of his clothing as you found them on the floor, he chuckled shaking his head and promising you that it had been his fault. He wasn't paying attention to what he was doing either, he was trying to figure out if he was in the right place.

"I wasn't watching what I was doing, I was wondering how to get inside." Your hands touched as you handed him a silk black shirt, your eyes travelled up his tattooed hands and up to his eyes, even though he was drenched in rainwater he still looked amazing. Your heart was thumping against your chest as you stared at him studying his facial features for longer than you probably should have but he was handsome, his jawline was sharp and yet he had such a round face. He had long black hair that was swept back into a half up and half down man bun that was sticking to his forehead thanks to the rain. He took a second to look back at you, noticing the way your hair was sticking to your shirt and face, how your eyes seemed to be lighting up even in the dark gloomy weather.

"You two will catch a cold! Inside!" You both began rushing to your feet scrambling to get inside of the bookshop, your boss - Grace - hit you around the back of the head with a thick book.

"I told you to be home hours ago, Y/n meet Jungkook. He'll live above you for the rest of the summer." Jungkook? Even his name sounded amazing to you. It was strange that even a name, something so simple could still sound so good.

"It's nice to meet you Jungkook, will you be helping out in the shop also?" You questioned as you took the book from your bag and went to place it over on the space heater that was behind the counter of the shop. It got cold inside of the shop despite it being summer so the space heater was constantly on behind the counter, keeping you or the other workers warm.

"No, I'm just here to look around the city, I have some time to myself." You nodded at him and Grace began to scold you for not offering him a drink yet. She'd taught you to be a great hostess and yet here you were, not putting those lessons to good use.

"I'll show you to your room, I get up the stairs easier." You laughed softly as you playfully teased Grace, you took his bag for him and showing him the way to the back of the shop and how he would get in and out of his apartment.

"I'll give you a key so you can get in and out easier, there's no shutter for the door so just make sure you lock it or who knows what I'll wake up to one morning." He nodded along to everything you were saying as he followed behind you up the three flights of stairs. The first flight was heading down, the next lead up to what he assumed was your floor and the last one was his.

"Your room is on the top floor, you have a balcony with one of the most astonishing views of the river and the Effiel Tower." You pushed the door open and his mouth almost fell to the floor as he saw everything inside, the apartment was plain but it was beautiful. Something he wasn't used to, the places he stayed were normally extravagant and overdone but this was just perfect. The furniture was all a cream colour and the walls were a soft cream and soft brown wallpaper, it was a nice place to call home for the summer.

"It's not much but it's just enough to call home for the summer," His heart skipped as you said exactly what he'd been thinking, from the moment he'd seen you outside the shop he felt as though alarm bells were going off in his head. You weren't screaming and crying at him so it meant you had no idea who he was, you had a beautiful smile that seemed to make his heart jump whenever you did it. You lifted a small silver key from around your neck and he watched you strolling over to the double doors beside his bed.

"It's not quite the weather tonight but you can sleep with the doors open and you'll wake up to a nice sound of birds and the local guitarist playing just down the street." He wondered how many times you'd done that, slept in this room just so you could wake up to that. It did sound like one of the most peaceful things in the world he smiled looking at the view through the rain stained windows. Even now, covered in rain and dark clouds the Effiel Tower looked breathtaking and as cheesy as it would sound to anyone else. The view outside was nothing in comparison to you, Jungkook felt as though he would look at you all day.

"I have a fireplace downstairs in my apartment if you'd like to come and get some hot chocolate." You weren't doing this just because he was good looking but you had knocked him over in the rain and wanted to make up for it. He was still drenched in water and the first place in his apartment was blocked off so that yours could run with ease.

"Sure, I'll just get changed and then I'll meet you down there." You handed him all of the keys he would be needing for the apartment and went down to your room to give everything a quick clean not wanting to look like a slob in front of someone like him. Holding your hands over your chest you tried to slow down your heart as you thought of him, thought of the way he looked, spoke and smiled.

"Y/n is she mine..." The question was repeated to you, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked up at him. Hand laid out on the counter, they were starting to hurt with how hard you were gripping the marble countertop but you nodded your head at him. He had every right to know now that he was back.

"Y-Yes she's yours." Jungkook's heart raced as he looked over at the staircase, Grace was walking down holding up a pair of Minnie mouse ears that seemed to sparkle in the lighting of the shop.

"She's waiting for you." You nodded at Grace as she kissed your cheek, putting the pair of ears onto your head and stared at Jungkook as she walked out of the bookshop,

"She doesn't remember me?" You shrugged your shoulders in answer to his question,

"It's been four years, she sees a lot of people in the shop." You mumbled playing with the sleeves of your thin jumper as he stared at you, the thought of him being there was finally starting to sink in and then you realised he was going to want to meet her.

"Why didn't you tell me? How?" Questions were running through his head at the thought of having a daughter...Or any kind of child. He felt as though he'd missed out on a lot, which he had. His daughter must have been four years old by now, he'd missed out on four years with his own daughter.

"It wasn't like I could contact you Jungkook. How do you think babies are made? We were active together Jungkook and it wasn’t as though we were the safest when we did." You spat out quickly and he looked down at the floor, he knew he deserved that for the way things ended between you so he shut up not wanting to start a fight right now.

"Can I meet her?" You bit down on your lip, you'd never even told her what her real dad was like or who he was because she'd never asked questions about it before. There had been one time when she was three, she questioned why her friend had two parents and she only had one. Now you were about to drop a bombshell on a four-year-old that her father was the famous Jeon Jungkook, a singer in one of the biggest bands and the reason he was never around was because of you...You didn't even know that he was famous when you met him, you just thought he was someone who did a lot of travelling, born rich and could do what he wanted. It wasn't like you googled every person you dated or wanted to date.

"I don't know-" The thought of him randomly meeting her without a warning was worrying you but Jungkook cut you off,

"She's my daughter-"

"She's also my daughter." You snapped back at him, both of you knew that you weren't going to get anywhere with this argument so you took a deep breath, closed your eyes trying to come up with something that would make this make sense.

"She's just a kid, she...I never told her who her dad was." He frowned at why you wouldn't just tell her that he was her dad but then he remembered who he was and what he did for a living. Telling a child that could make them tell other people and he assumed you didn't want drama starting at your door, which you didn't. It had been your whole reasoning for never looking for him again if people knew he was a father you'd never have a normal life again you'd seen the articles following Jungkook. You'd seen the stories about people the hung out with, it was terrifying to you/

"Were you ever going to tell me?" He questioned slowly as he looked up at you, your eyes were staring down at the countertop as you processed the question.

"How? Was I supposed to send you some physic message? Maybe use a magical Owl?" Your daughter slowly came down the stairs as she heard you yelling and she poked her head around the door watching you and Jungkook interact, she stared at the man wondering who he was and why you were fighting. She hated it when you yelled loudly since it never really happened that often.

"Mum? Is everything okay? Want me to call David?" You shook your head getting down onto your knees and motioning for her to come over to you. It was now or never.

"Darling come here, I want you to meet someone." She rushed over to you still dressed as Cinderella and she jumped up into your arms wrapping her tiny arms around your neck. You slowly turned her around setting her on top of the counter and turning her to see Jungkook. He began tearing up as he looked at her, the longer he stared the more similarities he saw in her that he had and it made him cry at the thought of missing the first four years of her life. You could tell by the look on his face you'd made a mistake by hiding her from him but there was nothing you could have done. He had his life and you had yours. Both drastically different from one another.

"Please don't cry Mr, I know books are boring but my mum can make them exciting." He chuckled wiping his face on a tissue she was giving to him from beside and you sighed knowing that you had to tell her,

"Baby, do you remember when you asked me why your friend had two parents, and you only had one?" She nodded looking up as if she was searching the air for the answer, it made you smiled softly at her as she thought back on what you had said to her that day.

"You told me daddy was away and I would know about him when the time was right." You nodded at her, tucking hair behind her ear as you swallowed the lump in your throat. Jungkook looked at you tearing up this time, you'd never thought the day would come, never in a million years had you thought he'd come back here and that you would have to be the one to explain this to her.

"Areum this is your dad, Jungkook this is Areum..." You waited to see what she was thinking of all this,

"You don't have to call me dad though...Not if you're not comfortable with it. I'm Jungkook." She stared at him tilting her head to the side as he held out his hand for her to shake,

"My dad?" You and Jungkook nodded in unison waiting for her to say or do something, she just turned to you and then back to Jungkook in silence. Studying him as she stood up on the counter and walked over to him, she touched his hair.

"Your hair is long." He nodded, it was longer than the first time he'd come to Paris. Now you could probably put it into two little buns on either side of his head, or maybe in a small ponytail.

"It is." He laughed softly, she turned her finger at him,

"Turn." He did as she said and she kept an eye on him, she'd learnt from movies and shows what she thought a dad was supposed to be and she nodded at him.

"Are you sure?" She questioned you sarcastically, she'd been watching too much television, you shook your head at her and picked her up blowing on her shoulder making her scream out as it tickled her. You placed her down onto the floor tapping her arms softly.

"Go and change for bed, it's late." Jungkook watched her as she came over to him and hugged his leg tightly, all she'd ever wished for was for a dad and now to her, it was finally coming true.

"Goodnight Jungkook." She whispered squeezing him tightly once more before rushing towards the staircase as you told her you'd be up to read to her soon. Jungkook's mind went back to the name that Areum had mentioned when she first came down the stairs,

"Who's David?" You froze as the name came from Jungkook's lips, the way he questioned it made you feel like you'd been caught cheating but you and Jungkook hadn't been together in years but it didn't explain the guilty feeling you had hanging over your chest. The guilt rushed through you as you thought about moving on from Jungkook and him not doing the same. It had taken you a while to convince yourself to finally start dating again, four years in fact.

"My boyfriend-"

"Is he close with Areum?" He cut you off quickly as soon as he heard the word boyfriend leave your lips. You stared at him as you began putting books away to keep your hands busy, you wanted nothing more than to smack Jungkook over the head for coming here and asking so many questions like this as if he had any ground to stand on.

"He's been here for about three months but he's close with her-"

"Where did you meet him? Is he just some creep you met in the middle of Paris? Is he safe to be around my daughter?" You slammed a book down onto the shelf and he stopped questioning you. He just stared at you as you paced back over to him rubbing your temples as though he was stressing you out, which he was.

"Is this what it's going to be like because you're here now?" He frowned at what you meant not following along with what you were asking him.

"I just want to know if he's good to be around my daughter-"

"You don't get to decide if he's good enough, you know what...How do I know you're good enough to be around her? How do I know you won't just run off again?" He looked down at the floor and shook his head it wasn't like he had a choice last time. He had to leave before, his break was up and he had no choice but to leave you and Paris.

"I'm staying around, I want to know my daughter, I want my daughter to know me." He looked at you and you bit down on your lip feeling guilty for throwing that in his face. You knew deep down that he didn't have an option to stay last time that he had to leave.

"David is a good guy, he's good with Areum that's all you need to know." He nodded at you calmly, telling you that he wanted to meet him before David got to spend any more time with his daughter. Jungkook at least wanted to get to know the man that had been helping look after his daughter.

"I don't think you're in a place to decide if he gets to see her or not Jungkook...He's been around longer than you have-"

"Because I didn't know she existed...Don't throw that one in my face Y/n." You knew it was harsh of you to use against him so you nodded your head, agreeing to let him meet David in the future but not yet.

"Can I come to see Areum tomorrow?" You nodded at him again,

"It's Saturday so she'll be free from everything. She normally helps me around the shop so it'll be nice for her to get out of that." You watched him as he walked towards the door of the shop getting ready to leave again. It brought back that sinking feeling of never seeing him again,

"Jungkook," You called out, right as his hand touched the door handle he turned to look at you and at the moment it was like looking at him for the first time. The way he stared at you, the way his eyes looked, it sent shivers rushing down your spine. You noticed he had more tattoos than the first time you saw him and you wondered if he'd covered up the one you'd given to him.

"Yeah?" He called out when you didn't respond to him just looking at you, you shook your head to get rid of the daydream you were having and you smiled weakly at him,

"Did you rent the room out for the summer?" He nodded his head as he thought about the place above yours.

"I wanted to stay somewhere familiar to me, have you been up there since the last time?" You shook your head even if it was a lie, you spent the first few weeks of him being gone up there. You'd smashed most of everything up and replaced it when you calmed down. The whole place felt wrong after he left, you hated that he'd left almost everything behind. The guitar you'd gotten him at the boot fair one time, photos of you together drawn by a man by the river. Everything was broken and trashed since you never wanted to see him again.

"No." You told a small white lie, he nodded and pulled the door open walking out into the street and making his way back to his hotel room as he thought about everything going. A week ago he had no idea his daughter even existed and now he was wondering what his life was going to be like now, how he was going to tell the boys. If he even wanted to tell the boys but he knew deep down inside himself that he had to let someone know.

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pretchatta · 3 years ago

Text

tripping the light fantastic

The brief was simple: infiltrate an Imperial gala and steal a datachip from one of the guests. Hera's contact had procured them false identities as wealthy socialites as well as providing a description of the target, so all they had to do was show up. Kanan didn't see how this operation could go wrong.

Of course, that was before he knew what Hera was wearing.

Things became a whole lot more complicated after that.

that evening wear series i started in june? i finished it!

rating: teen; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 7.5k words

---

“Hera, the hovertaxi’s here!”

Kanan tried not to sound too impatient as he called to her from the cargo hold of the Ghost, but he was cold.

The thin, silken material of his shirt was cool against his skin, and his formal jacket was doing nothing to insulate him against the recycled air of the ship. Hera had told him he’d be fine once they reached their destination, but they would never get there if she didn’t hurry up.

“I’m coming!” came her muffled shout from somewhere above him.

He heard the clatter of heels against the deck and decided to believe her this time, so he walked back down the extended boarding ramp. The spaceport outside was no warmer, but it was a step closer to the extravagant Imperial gala they would be attending tonight. The impractical outfit had been provided by the same contact who had procured their invitations – or, rather, invitations for the two wealthy socialites they would be posing as.

Kanan waved at the taxi driver to indicate they wouldn’t be much longer and got a flat stare from the rhodian in response. He resisted the urge to rub at his eyes; Hera’s contact had insisted that they’d stand out if they didn’t follow fashion trends, and apparently the big one at the moment was glitter eyeshadow. It made his eyebrows itch.

He heard the sounds of someone coming down the ladder behind him and turned back to face the cargo bay.

“I’m sorry,“ Hera was saying, her voice clearer now she was closer. "The straps on these shoes are so fiddly, I don’t understand how anyone could have the patience to wear them every day.”

"You should have said something,” Kanan called back with a grin. Sometimes she really made this too easy. “I’m sure I could’ve helped, I’m great with my fing-”

He was cut off by the sight of Hera appearing at the top of the boarding ramp, the comment dying on his lips. Silhouetted by the light coming from inside the Ghost, one very accurate way to describe her appearance was stunning.

She was wearing a long, sleeveless dress made of the same silken material as Kanan’s shirt, and in the same deep burgundy colour. The V-shaped neckline plunged almost to her waist amidst the elegantly draped material, which clung to her hips and cascaded down her legs. The hem fluttered around her calves, revealing the impossibly high stiletto heels that were the reason for her lateness. They matched the colour of her dress, which contrasted beautifully against her skin.

Kanan gaped at her as all other thoughts fled from his head. He rarely saw Hera without her gloves, let alone the rest of her baggy flight suit; the combination of the dress and so much bare skin was almost too much for his brain to process.

She began to descend the ramp, hips and lekku swaying, apparently unaware of the effect she was having on him. As she drew near he could see she had applied a small amount of makeup – not much, but just enough to enhance her features, plus her own smear of glitter eyeshadow.

She came to a halt in front of him. “So, how do I look?”

He struggled to find an adequate response to her question.

“Words fail me.”

“That bad, huh?“ She gave him a knowing smile, then gestured behind him. "We should get going before our driver gets bored of waiting.”

The thud-hiss of the ramp closing jolted him back to himself. They were leaving Chopper in charge of the ship while they were gone, something that Hera seemed far more comfortable with than he was.

“Right, yeah, let’s go,” he said, shaking his head a little to clear it. He fell in step beside her as they walked over to where the taxi waited.

As Kanan opened the door for her, his hand automatically went to the small of her back to help her in. He aborted the motion with only inches to spare; her dress was completely backless. He jerked his arm back, feeling self-conscious about touching her bare skin, and managed to turn the movement into offering her his arm instead.

Hera took it with a smile as she climbed into the hovertaxi. Kanan followed, careful to sit so that there was still space between them, feeling suddenly warm despite his earlier discomfort. It was dawning on him that the evening ahead might be very difficult – and not just because of their mission.

Their false identities had them attending the gala husband and wife, and he was glad they didn’t need to start pretending until they got to the venue. He knew he hadn’t been subtle in his attraction towards her these past few months, but there was a line between casual flirting and going too far that he had been careful not to cross. Sometimes he thought he saw flickers of what could be reciprocation from her, but she had never given him any indication that she welcomed or returned his feelings and he did his best to respect that.

He had a horrible feeling that he would be getting awfully close to that line tonight.

When they pulled up to the venue, Kanan played the part of a dutiful husband, climbing out first and holding the door for Hera. She gave him a grateful smile as she took his proffered arm and let him help her out; now that the initial shock of her appearance had worn off, he could see that she was struggling without her usual flight suit and boots.

Their destination was a large private home worthy of the title ‘mansion’. It was made all the more impressive by the way it was uplit in the early evening twilight. Though it was in the middle of a bustling city, a narrow border of immaculately trimmed hedges surrounded the house, separating it from the buildings around it. A short flight of steps led up to the open front doors, warm light spilling out in welcome.

“Ready to put on a show?” Hera murmured from beside him.

Their brief was simple: infiltrate the gala and steal a datachip from one of the guests. Imperial suppliers often liked to finalise business deals at events such as these, and tonight ownership of a large consignment of weapons would be changing hands. Hera and Kanan were to locate the seller and swap the chip containing the manifests and shipping details of the sale with a fake, and then transmit the information to Hera’s contact. The shipment would be hijacked and stolen before the Imperials realised anything was wrong. It put fuel and supplies in the Ghost and took firepower away from the Empire, which made it Hera’s favourite kind of operation.

Unfortunately the guest in question was half the reason for the not-inconsiderable security force that was also in attendance tonight. Their disguises would get them in, but it would take a lot of skill and probably a fair amount of luck to grab the chip and then get out. The longer they could go without raising suspicion, the better.

Kanan turned to look down at her, his expression serious. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Her only response was to adjust her hold on his arm, linking them together more securely. He was happy with this; it struck the perfect balance of apparent intimacy, yet she could easily withdraw if she felt uncomfortable. He led her up the steps and to the doors.

The entrance hall beyond might have been described as small and modest by some. Those were the people this event was no doubt for – by Kanan’s standards, it was opulent.

Smooth blue stone lined the walls and contrasted against the golden tones of the floor. The gentle burbling of running water came from a small fountain in the center and echoed off the high, arched ceiling. Ornamental plants in intricately decorated pots lined the edges of the room, many with colourful flowers in bloom, their perfume hanging in the air. A heavy curtain in a rich, deep gold colour hung at the far end, and the faint sound of music could be heard from beyond.

“May I see your invitations?”

A sharply-dressed man in all black had been waiting just inside the door. Pale, slight and human, he couldn’t be a better example of an Imperial if he tried. That image was only reinforced by his companion; standing just behind him was a stormtrooper, silent and imposing.

Kanan affected a look of polite surprise. He had assumed they would give their cover names, maybe present their falsified chain codes. He flicked a glance at Hera, who was looking expectantly at him.

“Invitations?” he stalled, hoping desperately that her skintight dress might yet contain hidden pockets.

“I need to confirm that you are allowed in,” the doorman explained patiently. “You did bring your invitations with you, as requested?”

“Of course we did!” Hera assured him with a smile. “My husband wouldn’t have forgotten something as important as our invitations. They’re in your pocket, aren’t they, dear?”

Kanan tried to remain calm as he widened his eyes significantly at her. He hadn’t put anything in his pockets before they left, and he was pretty sure there wasn’t any chip or card in there already.

“Are they?” he asked.

Hera’s smile became fixed, and he got the distinct impression she was resisting rolling her eyes at him. She stepped forwards, right up to him, and then one of her hands brushed against his hip. Heat flashed through his core in response to her touch. Her hand continued downwards, slipping into his pocket, as her face moved closer to his. It took all of his concentration to hold still.

“Must we play this game at every event, love?” she murmured. There was a low, sensual quality to her already wonderful voice that only stoked the simmering heat in his gut. Before he could think of a way to respond, she leaned in further and her lips brushed the corner of his mouth. It was only the lightest of touches, but his skin still tingled even after she pulled away.

She waved the two slips of flimsi that had just been in his pocket at him, giving him a pointed look.

“Here they are,” Hera said airily to the sentry, passing him the flimsi. “You’ll have to excuse my husband – I married him for his looks, not his brains. But can you blame me?”

The man gave a forced chuckle and looked distinctly uncomfortable as he gave their invitations a cursory glance. Then he gave them a nod and waved them towards the curtained archway.

Kanan let Hera lead him across the atrium. He shook his head slightly; right now, he needed to focus. They had a job to complete, after all.

“I always knew you hired me for my handsome face,” he joked, quiet enough that the doorman wouldn’t hear.

He expected her to laugh it off as she usually did at his attempts at flirting, to gently remind him of the line that existed between them. Yet again, Hera threw him off balance.

She shot him a small smile as she took his arm. “Well, it wasn’t for your ability to check your pockets.”

He was unable to come up with a response as she led him beyond the curtain.

The gala was in full swing on the other side. A huge ballroom stretched before them, towering columns of more pale blue stone holding up the arched ceiling over a curved white dancefloor. The music came from a live band at the far end, and guests in gowns of all colours swayed and twirled over the dancefloor in time with the beat. Precious gemstones glittered under the soft lights, along with shimmering makeup and body paint akin to the eyeshadow Hera and Kanan wore.

Those who weren’t dancing were talking and mingling around the edges of the room. Small droids wove between them, carrying trays of drinks and canapés. Hera snagged them each a drink from a passing droid and they began to slowly make their way through the crowd.

Kanan caught snatches of conversation as they passed, mostly inane chatter with the occasional obsequious flattery or plain flaunting of wealth. He knew without a doubt that every single person present cared only about themselves; the whole event was a sickening display of the extreme inequality that was not just present but practically encouraged by the Empire. He almost felt disappointed that this was a stealth mission and not an opportunity to cause chaos.

They completed their circuit having managed to make only minimal interactions with other guests, and found a space to stand in. The part of the crowd nearest the entryway moved too much to allow them to survey the whole room effectively, so they ended up next to one of the columns about halfway around the dancefloor. It made watching the entrance difficult, but they had a decent view of the rest of the ballroom.

So far, none of the guests present were the person they were here for. Kanan didn’t have a description of their target but Hera had told him they would have a golden sunburst emblem displayed prominently on their outfit. The riot of colour made spotting something that would normally be so distinctive difficult, but they had both been looking and were yet to see the sunburst.

The curtain moved and Kanan craned his neck to see who the newest arrival to the party was, but the ladies’ matching black dresses held no additional colours.

“Let’s dance,” Hera said suddenly from beside him.

Kanan turned to stare at her. “What?”

She was scanning the rest of the room anxiously. “Everyone else seems to be having at least one, and I don’t want to stand out. Plus, we’ll have a better view of the entryway from the dancefloor.” She dumped her empty glass onto a passing droid-table and grabbed his hand. “Come on!”

Kanan barely had a moment to put down his own half-finished drink before she was dragging him towards the dancefloor.

“But I don’t know how to dance!” he protested after her.

It earned him a sceptical look over her shoulder. “How can you not know how to dance? It’s easy, just follow my lead.”

She found them a space amongst the twirling couples and turned to him, still holding his hand in one of her own. He briefly noted that they did in fact have a great view of the entrance from here, and then she stepped in close and his attention narrowed to only her.

The heels brought Hera’s face high enough to be very close to his; her breath ghosted over his cheek. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, and through the thin material of his shirt he could feel her fingers were still cool from where they’d been holding her drink. He didn’t know what to do with his other hand, and in his indecision it hovered awkwardly.

She rolled her eyes at him.

“Here,” she told him, releasing his shoulder just long enough to place his hand on her waist. His fingers brushed the soft, bare skin of her back and he had to resist the urge to touch more. His whole body felt suddenly very hot.

“Now try to follow my feet with yours,” she murmured.

It took Kanan a few moments to register her words. He could feel the heat of her body radiating through the thin silks of their clothes, and the sweet smell of her perfume filled his nose. He wanted to either push her away or pull her closer; it was agony having her so close, and yet not close enough.

Hera started to move, leading the steps of their dance, and Kanan’s brain struggled to keep up.

“Kanan,” Hera hissed as he stumbled, almost standing on her foot.

This wasn’t working. He needed to focus, or they’d start drawing attention to themselves.

Kanan took a deep breath and cast his mind back to a place he’d sworn he’d never return to. He wasn’t touching the Force, not quite, but it still felt wrong to call on the old meditation techniques. He felt the wash of calm sweep through him as he emptied his mind and regulated his breathing. The Force hummed in response, so close and so ready for him to take it, use it, draw strength from it. But he held himself back from going that far. All he needed was to ground himself.

Emotion, yet peace.

How ironic that, after years of denying his past, it was the Jedi code that he most needed now.

Kanan ignored the irony of his predicament as he followed the movement of Hera’s feet carefully, trying to stay in time with them without getting underneath the sharp heels. Fortunately the steps were simple, and it wasn’t long before they settled into a rhythm.

He managed to keep it together as they slowly traversed the dancefloor. Between focusing on his breathing and on Hera’s steps, he had no awareness of anything else; the contact could have been dancing right next to them and he wouldn’t have noticed. But their cover remained intact, and Hera had eyes sharp enough for both of them.

Once Hera saw that he was keeping up with her, she experimented with something different. She released his shoulder and spun away, still holding his hand. Her dress flared out around her calves as she moved, revealing more of her smooth, slender legs. Her eyes sparkled with the joy of the dance. Kanan’s heart skipped a beat; she was breathtakingly beautiful.

She twirled back into his arms and he took another deep, grounding breath. He wasn’t sure if it was weaker from the dancing or if he was just getting used to it, but her perfume wasn’t as overwhelming now. This whole semi-meditation thing was getting easier, too; maybe he should try it more often.

“I still can’t see the target,” Hera murmured in his ear, and his concentration broke. That low, lovely voice would always be his undoing.

Fortunately, his feet seemed to have memorised the steps and didn’t need his brain to continue moving.

“Maybe they’re not coming,” he replied lightly, trying hard to keep his voice steady.

“No, this contact has never been wrong before. They’ll be here.” She sounded confident in her assertion, and Kanan really wasn’t in a position to argue.

“Though, if they take much longer,” she continued, “we should check out the buffet table.”

He felt an amused grin spread over his face. “You’re hungry?”

“Starving. I meant to grab a ration bar before we left, but getting ready took longer than I expected.”

Something about her admission made affection swell in his chest.

“I think this dance is almost over,” he said, hearing the song start to wind down and trying to hide his relief. “If you want to keep watch I can go find you some food.”

If she was lucky they might have Gruuvan Shaal kebabs, or even some meiloorun. His mind had already drifted to thoughts of what Hera might like to eat as he started to take a step back, but then her grip on him tightened.

“No – wait – I think that’s them!”

Hera’s arms were suddenly steel, holding him in place as she craned her head over his shoulder. Kanan felt frozen in place.

“Where?” He tried to turn to see for himself.

“Don’t look, just keep dancing,” she hissed. “I’ll try to move us closer.”

The band started up the next song, a slower one with a different beat. Hera let go of his hand to place both of hers on his shoulders. Somehow, she was now even closer than before.

“Put your hands on my back,” she murmured, her lips barely an inch from his ear. “Keep following my steps.”

He did as he was told, his short-circuiting brain incapable of anything else, both hands splayed against her bare skin. It was warm under his palms but he resisted the urge to stroke his fingers along her spine. She had moved closer to him so that her chin rested on his shoulder and her chest pressed against his. The silk did nothing to hide the curves of her body; combined with the touch of her bare skin, it would be easy to imagine there were no clothes between them at all.

Don’t think about that, he told himself sternly. He wondered if Hera could tell he was feeling a lot warmer than usual. He tried meditation again, hoping it would cool the flush in his cheeks, but it was harder than before.

Hera led him in the new dance, slightly easier than the previous one. It was slower and had fewer steps, so it wasn’t long before Kanan could let his feet continue for him. There were more distractions with this one, however; as well as Hera being much closer, every now and then the tips of her lekku would brush the backs of his hands. Whenever that happened it was like the light touch was igniting sparks over his skin. The meditation didn’t seem to be as effective now; he worried that at any moment his hands would start trembling.

“I’ve got eyes on her,” Hera whispered. Kanan felt her breath over his earlobe.

“Her?”

“Mikkian, middle-aged, blue skin. She’s got the golden sunburst on her shoulder; she’s definitely our target.”

He felt Hera slightly change the angle of their movement, guiding them across the dancefloor. The steps lengthened and Kanan needed to focus harder to follow them. If anything, the distraction helped.

The band began the final cadence of the song, and Kanan found himself desperately hoping that Hera would let them stop dancing. Maybe even step outside for a minute. Fresh air would be good.

“She’s going somewhere – this is our chance!”

A moment later Hera had slipped out of his arms and was moving away. It took his mind a few moments to catch up, but by then she’d taken his hand again and was leading him off the dancefloor.

With Hera gone, clarity returned to his mind in an instant. They were on the job now: hunting an Imperial for tactical data.

This, he could do.

They were on the other side of the dancefloor to where they’d started, and slightly closer to the curtained entryway. Kanan caught sight of the mikkian woman walking around the edge of the room, staying close to the wall. The sunburst was an oversized brooch on one of her shoulders, contrasting elegantly with the deep purple of her velvoid dress. She reached another curtain and, after a quick glance over her shoulder, she slipped through and disappeared on the other side. Kanan caught a flash of an ornate archway like the one they had entered through and guessed it led to the rest of the mansion.

Hera was still leading him after her, weaving around a table that was in their way. Something caught his eye and he reached out a hand to snag it as they passed, slipping it into his pocket. They reached the curtain that clearly marked the area beyond as off-limits to gala guests and Hera paused, turning to meet Kanan’s eyes. He nodded to indicate he was ready, and she wordlessly pushed it aside so they could follow the mikkian through.

Beyond was a grand-looking hallway. A lush strip of carpet ran down the center and ornately framed paintings hung along the walls. Kanan caught a flash of blue head-tendrils disappearing around the next corner, but Hera was already in pursuit. He wasn’t sure what Hera’s plan was when they reached her; pretend to recognise her and pick her pocket? Knock her out and rob her, hoping no-one would find her before they could get out? Whatever it was, he was ready to follow his captain’s lead.

Something caught his eye, and Kanan nudged Hera. She glanced up at the hidden security cam he indicated and tapped her temple, then winked. It took Kanan a moment to understand, but when he did he nodded with the dawning realisation. There were some types of glitter that scattered light in such a way that it scrambled any sensors trying to detect it; their eyeshadow was not just a fashion statement, but a way to conceal their faces on any security recordings.

Rounding the corner, they found the hallway split as a staircase led up to the next storey of the house. Hera silently pointed to a recent scuff in the thick pile of the carpet on the lowest step. Between the soft surface and the still-audible music from the ballroom their target had the advantage of stealth on them, but there were other ways to track her.

They ascended the stairs in a crouch, but needn’t have bothered. As they reached the hallway at the top they saw a door just finish closing. As quietly as they could, they crept to the door, past more doors, curtains and paintings. Hera was reaching for the handle when Kanan felt rather than heard a presence at the foot of the stairs.

He stiffened.

“Someone’s coming,” he whispered to her.

She quickly glanced around. “In here!”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him behind a heavy, floor-length curtain opposite the door the mikkian had gone through.

It turned out to be covering a small alcove housing some kind of ancient relic displayed on a stone plinth. Hera shoved him into the back of the alcove, wedging herself between him and the plinth and twitching the curtain closed again behind them. It was thick enough to let in no light, so they were cast into darkness.

When Hera didn’t move back, Kanan realised just how little space there was around the relic and its stand. It felt like every inch of Hera’s body was pressed against his, warm and soft and utterly maddening. It didn’t help that, in the dark, all of his senses seemed heightened to compensate for the lack of sight. His mouth felt suddenly dry.

He heard the muffled sound of several sets of heavy footsteps on the carpet, and then the soft swish of the door opening and closing. The sweet scent of Hera’s perfume was in his nose again, though this time there was something else underlying it, something familiar that made him think of home. That was strange; he didn’t have a home. Not beyond the Ghost, if that even counted. Muffled voices brought him back to the present situation, a man’s and a woman’s coming from the room behind the door and another one, nearer but tinny, as though it came through a comm.

“This must be the hand-off,” Hera breathed against his ear, and Kanan had to work to stop his knees from giving out. “Sounds like a guard outside the door.”

“What’s the plan?” he managed.

There was a brief pause as she thought. “On my mark, we stun the guard and then two in the room. I’ll grab the data, you keep watch, and then we get out of here.”

“Got it.” He gave a small nod, forgetting that she couldn’t see it. “Wait – we don’t have blasters.”

“I do.”

She shifted against him and then something warm and soft that felt suspiciously like skin brushed against his hand. He snatched it away like it had been burned

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

“Getting my blaster,” she replied in a calm whisper. “The only way I could conceal one in this dress was with a thigh holster.”

Oh. Okay. Just her leg. That was all it was, just her bare thigh pressing against his hip from where she’d hitched the dress up. Which he’d just touched. His heart was in his throat.

“On three,” Hera whispered, shifting again as she resumed standing on two feet.

“One.”

Kanan felt the hard edge of her blaster against his shoulder as she brought it up to a ready position.

“Two.”

He reached out a hand, ready to pull the curtain back.

“Three.”

Kanan whipped the curtain aside and they burst out of the alcove. Hera squeezed two shots off at the single stormtrooper standing guard, and Kanan was at the door before they finished hitting the floor. It swung open, and Kanan dived into the room beyond.

He caught a brief glimpse of a pair of startled faces and made a split-second decision to go for the man. He was tall, human, and dressed in the crisp, dark uniform of an Imperial naval officer. A swift blow to the head sent him reeling as Hera shot a stun blast at the mikkian. Before the man could recover, Kanan had stepped to the side so Hera could take him down too. It was all over in seconds, the only sounds having come from Hera’s compact little blaster.

He turned to congratulate her, but Hera was already on her knees beside the mikkian patting her down for the datachip. Kanan strode to the door instead, hauling the unconscious trooper inside before stretching out his senses for signs of anyone else approaching.

A prickle at the back of his neck told him that was sooner than he’d have liked.

“Hera, we’re about to have company,” he warned her.

“Hang on – wait, I think it might be inside–”

His ears caught the soft thumps of heavy boots coming up the stairs.

“Hera!”

“Got it!”

There was a click sound and he glanced back to see the mikkian’s sunburst brooch open in Hera’s hand, revealing a hidden chamber with a small datachip inside. Unfortunately, his next look to the hallway outside showed him a pair of stormtroopers cresting the stairs.

“Hey, you!” one shouted.

Kanan cursed as they started to raise their weapons. He ducked back into the room as a pair of plasma bolts hit the doorframe.

“Time to go!” Hera was already on her feet behind him, and he let her push him aside as she stepped up to the doorway with her blaster ready. She darted out just as the bootsteps reached the door; two shots later and both troopers were on the floor, unconscious.

Kanan grabbed her hand. "They'll have called for help; run!"

He half-dragged her in the opposite direction, continuing down the hallway and away from the scene they had created.

“There goes our stealth,” Hera panted from beside him.

They rounded a corner and found the hallway continued ahead, though there were also stairs leading upwards to one side. Kanan shook his head and led Hera so that they stayed on the same level; they wanted to be going down, not up.

“If we can get back to the main party, we can lose ourselves in the crowd,” he said to her, a plan for their escape already forming in his mind.

No doubt it would not be long before someone discovered the five unconscious bodies they had left behind, but they wouldn’t have a description of who to look for. As long as they weren’t caught anywhere they shouldn’t be there would be no reason for anyone to assume they were anything other than genuine guests.

“Good idea, but first we need to get there,” Hera pointed out somewhat breathlessly.

There was another corner up ahead, and if Kanan’s sense of direction was leading him true they should be on the other side of the ballroom now. If the mansion was somewhat symmetrical, then just here –

“There you go,” he panted as they turned the corner. "Our way back."

At the other end of the hall was a staircase just like the one they’d come up. They raced forwards.

Kanan only got a flicker of warning, but it was enough. He skidded to a halt and flung out an arm to stop Hera just as the tinny sound of a communicator reached them from the stairs.

“–assaulted guests and took out three troopers. Do not let them escape. Repeat, all squads to the Clovis wing, at least one attacker–”

The now-familiar sound of boots on carpet was coming up the stairs.

Hera tried the handle of the nearest door, but it didn’t budge.

"It's locked!" Hera hissed.

Kanan looked for an alcove like the one they had hidden behind before. There was a matching one here but it held no ornament, only an empty plinth, and so there was no curtain to conceal them. There was no way they’d be able to run back around the corner before they were spotted, and standing here, out of bounds and out of breath, looked far too suspicious for them to be simply wayward guests. After all, what else would they have been doing?

The white tops of a pair of stormtrooper helmets came into view on the staircase.

Kanan had an idea.

“You can forgive me for this later,” he whispered, pushing Hera by the shoulders into the alcove. He desperately hoped she would; it was a terrible idea, but it might just work.

This space was no larger than the one on the other side of the house. His chest pressed against hers as he yanked the tie out of his hair. His other hand still held her blaster which he offered back to her. She took it automatically despite the confusion in her eyes, but he didn’t release it, instead guiding her to hide it under his jacket as he raked his free hand through his now-loose hair.

The stormtroopers had reached the top of the stairs; they’d be spotted any second now. Time to sell it.

A brush of his fingers tilted her chin up towards his face.

“What–”

Her words were cut off as he bent his neck and kissed her.

Time seemed to stop the moment their lips met. The world fell silent, the only sound his heart pounding in his ears, straining after their sprint through the mansion. His awareness shrank to Hera and only Hera. She had frozen against him, though only a moment ago he’d felt her breathing just as heavily as he was. Not that he was breathing any more; time had stopped.

It was a simple kiss, a press of his lips against hers. It was nothing. It was everything. It was Hera.

And then she kissed him back.

He knew it was just the surprise wearing off as her brain caught up to what they were doing. He knew she was just maintaining the cover he’d hastily created for them. But that didn’t stop how right it felt.

The hand still on her wrist gently stroked its way up her arm to her shoulder, while his fingers under her chin caressed the soft skin of her neck, down, until they brushed along her collarbone. Her breath hitched in her throat and her lips parted ever so slightly–

“Hey!”

Time snapped back to full speed as they broke apart. The stormtroopers had reached them and one was pointing a blaster at Kanan’s chest. Well, it would be more accurate to say both of them, as there wasn’t much space in it.

Kanan was breathing again, even more heavily than before, and he knew exactly how he looked with his tousled hair and the startled, almost guilty expression on his face. What he'd intended as a charade had become all too real as his mind was still reeling from the kiss.

“Oh, uh, sorry–” the trooper faltered and pointed the weapon down. “This area’s off-limits to guests.”

Kanan simply stared at him blankly. Of course it’s off-limits, that’s why we’re here.

“There’s been a security breach,” the trooper tried again, “you need to go back to the main ballroom, sir. Ma'am.” He nodded at Hera while managing to not look directly at her; Kanan got the impression that if his helmet had been off, they would have seen his face steadily turning red.

“A security breach?” Hera repeated in a breathy, Ryl-accented voice. Smart; the confident woman she’d been at the door had helped them to get in, but now they needed to be unassuming and easily dismissable.

Kanan sighed. “Just as I was starting to enjoy this event,” he muttered, loud enough for the trooper to hear.

“We need to secure the area. Please move along.” The trooper gestured towards the stairs, but he was already moving to walk past them and his companion was a few more steps ahead.

Kanan stepped out of the alcove but kept one arm around Hera’s shoulders, keeping her close and allowing the hand that held her blaster to remain concealed under his jacket.

“I hope nothing has been stolen,” Hera said worriedly, still with the accent, as they began descending the staircase. “Our host was telling me earlier, he has quite the collection of old Clone Wars relics here. Very valuable to thieves.”

“Probably what the breach is,” Kanan said confidently. “I’m sure they’ll catch the thief.”

They reached the foot of the stairs and he glanced back over his shoulder; the troopers were out of sight. They’d done it. Around the next corner the archway that led back to the ballroom became visible, the music growing louder with every step. Hera made no move to withdraw her arm and stow her blaster.

“That was a nice bit of quick thinking,” she said, back to her normal voice though she kept it carefully neutral.

Kanan couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her. “I’m sorry there wasn’t more time to warn you. Or, y’know. Ask.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She stopped to let him pull the curtain aside, the noise of the music and the guests reaching full volume and washing over them as they re-entered the party. “It worked, and now we’re back to being just two more guests.”

“We’re not out yet,” he reminded her. “C’mon, our best shot is probably right out the front door.”

They weaved through the crowd, Kanan still with an arm around Hera’s shoulder as they made their way slowly back across the ballroom. It almost felt strange that the party had changed so little in their absence, but they couldn’t have been gone longer than half an hour. The band were still playing, the dancefloor was still in full motion, and people still clustered around the edges engaged in conversations.

They reached the curtained archway to the atrium feeling much like they had during that first circuit of the room when they’d arrived. No-one gave them a second glance, too engrossed in their own affairs to spare a thought for two people they didn’t recognise. In a place like this, that meant you were unimportant, which suited Kanan and Hera just fine.

A few scattered guests were lingering around the pool as they ducked around the curtain into the atrium. One of two wafted folding fans at themselves, trying to cool off after dancing. Kanan and Hera were completely ignored as they walked past. The open doors loomed ever closer, along with the freedom that lay beyond.

They were just passing the doorman when his stormtrooper bouncer spoke.

“They’ve accessed the surveillance footage from the halls – the intruders are disguised as guests," he said, his voice tinny through the helmet's comm. "One human and a tail-head. No-one can leave until they’ve been found.”

“Uh oh,” Kanan said softly. The exit was mere steps away.

“Hey, you!” the doorman called over to them. “Stop there!”

Kanan swore.

“Run!” Hera shouted.

They took off as one, tearing down the steps to the street beyond. Blaster bolts hit the hedges as they reached the end of the path and rounded the gateposts, breaking into a sprint. Or, at least, Kanan did; Hera cried out from behind him. He skidded to a halt

“These kriffing heels – I’ve twisted my ankle!” She was still trying to hobble forwards, though at nowhere near the pace she could normally manage.

Behind her, stormtroopers were starting to pour out of the mansion.

“Okay, new plan!”

There was no time for anything clever. Before Hera could protest, he scooped her into his arms and started running again.

To her credit, Hera adapted to her new situation immediately. She still held her blaster in one hand, and as he carried her away she took aim over his shoulder. She wouldn’t be able to hit anything with any accuracy like this, but he knew exactly what she was doing; her shots sent the stormtroopers scattering for cover, allowing him to increase their lead on them.

He darted into an alley. Adrenaline was allowing him to run with Hera in his arms, but it would only last so long before his muscles would register their strain. Now, with no-one watching, was the perfect time to execute part two of this improvised escape.

The Force had been waiting all evening, hovering just next to his awareness, and now he finally drew on it. Kanan leapt, higher than he would have even unladen. He landed on the flat, permacrete roof, and with the Force flowing through his body he was running again.

With no more targets to shoot, Hera's arms encircled his neck, holding on for dear life. Kanan raced over the rooftops, leaping from one to the next over the oblivious pedestrians on the streets below. He’d already oriented himself and was heading to the spaceport. One of the perks of travelling like this was that he could do so in a perfectly straight line. Even if the Imperials tried to shut down the port they’d have to take the long way around to get there.

The scream of a twin-ion engine gave him warning, and he dropped back down to another abandoned alley a few streets over from the spaceport’s entrance. The TIE swooped overhead, searchlights coming on as it entered the zone the Imperials calculated they would still be inside of. Kanan smirked triumphantly.

“Well, that’s one way to save on the taxi fare,” Hera said as he set her carefully back on her feet. He didn’t quite let go of her, aware that she was putting most of her weight on only one leg.

He huffed out a laugh between panting breaths. “Don’t start counting on rides for supply runs.”

She grinned at him. “Of course not, you have a terrible luggage allowance.” She elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

He pretended to look affronted. “Well, if you want your spacious cargo hold back I suggest we get moving.”

Her eyes lingered on his face a few seconds longer, her smile softening with a fondness that echoed in his chest. Then her expression turned serious as she looked towards her injured ankle and took a tentative step onto it. She let out a hiss of pain, but managed to limp to the other side of the alley.

“It’s not too bad,” she said, seeming to find it easier on the way back. Then she started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Kanan asked, confused.

“The whole op was actually not too bad.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Seriously?”

“Sure, we were seen, but they didn’t get our faces," – she gestured to her eyeshadow – "neither of us got shot, and we got what we came for. By our standards this was almost a perfect run.”

He joined in the laughter. She had a point; for them, it was pretty good.

“It’s just a shame we weren’t able to get any of that food,” she added wistfully.

Kanan felt a flash of guilt, even though it wasn't his fault. He'd said he would bring her something to eat, but then they'd been distracted by the appearance of their target. He remembered their pursuit of the mikkian, how Hera had immediately been focused on their mission as she'd led him off the dancefloor.

“Actually…”

Kanan reached into his pocket for the item he’d swiped earlier that evening. They'd passed right by the buffet tables on the way to the curtained archway and until that moment he'd forgotten he had in fact kept his word to Hera.

He presented the meiloorun to her with a proud smile.

She gaped at him for a moment, staring between his face and the fruit in his hand. Then, her surprise softened to something he couldn’t quite read. It wasn't just gratitude; there was a warmth to it, an aching fondness in her eyes. She took a step forward, grabbed him by the lapel–

And kissed him.

For a second he was frozen with shock, one hand holding the meiloorun and the other hanging by his side. Then his mind caught up with what was happening, his arms slid around Hera, and he kissed her back.

It was the same as their kiss earlier, and yet it was also different. It was still Hera, her presence filling every one of his senses, but this time there was nothing held back. Her mouth parted easily against his, her tongue gently tracing his lower lip. His free hand caressed the bare skin of her back, his fingers softly stroking up her spine. She shivered against him.

When she pulled back an inch to breathe, he felt like he was floating.

“Definitely a perfect run,” she corrected herself in a whisper.

He gazed into her shining eyes with awe. It’s always perfect with you, he wanted to say. You’re amazing, you look beautiful tonight, I would do anything for you.

Instead, he kissed her again. Her lips were soft and eager against his.

She already knew.

#kanera #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #fake relationship #kanera fake relationship #star wars: rebels #sw rebels #kanan x hera #sw fic #skywalkeh #if anyone else wants to be tagged in my writing just shoot me a message!!#fic #pretchwritta

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whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years ago

Text

Long Nights - part 7

Neil x Reader

Chapter 7: Wicked game

(see chapter 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: it’s time to come back to life, and sometimes it involves Neil dragging you to a social event

warnings: 18+, language, alcohol mention (beer is considered alcohol, right?)

author’s note: 3k words. It’s not exactly what I had in mind for that chapter, but they have a mind of their own, as always.

Almost there.

The song for this part is Stone Sour - Wicked Game (acoustic, live)

Enjoy and let me know what you think, please? All feedback is greatly appreciated.

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @i-wanna-b-yours @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

It didn’t matter how many times you saw him do that, the effect the sight had on you was pretty much always the same. Filling your mind with thoughts that were quite counterproductive, one could say.

The veiny patterns covering hands and forearms. The long fingers running through the buttons. The tilted chin, extending the neck, drawing attention to that impossible jawline. The slight pout. The brows drawn together in concentration--

You smacked your tongue and shook your head

“Y’know what, those shirts of yours are so rude, but the way you wear them, the rolled-up sleeves?”

Neil looked at you through the reflection in the mirror, puzzled. “What about them?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely disrespectful,” you sighed heavily and leaned against the door frame.

Playful lights danced in the blue eyes. “Oh yeah?” he teased, giving himself a final glance-over before turning to you. “And what you’re gonna do about it?”

“Nothing,” - you shrugged, crossing your arms - “because you insist on dragging me to a social event.”

The faint resentment ringing in your last words didn’t get lost on Neil.

“So boring of me,” he said as he closed the gap between you, trying to keep a straight face. He put his hands on your waist and smirked. “But maybe after that we can come back here and continue the conversation.”

As you fixed his collar, a shade of smile hid in the corner of your mouth.

“Really wanna listen to me listing all the things that drive me mad about you, huh?” you asked smugly, gliding your fingertips along the delicate stripes of the greyish beige shirt.

Neil’s thumbs brushed over your hip bones as he hummed, “I have a feeling it might lead to a rather pleasant conclusion.”

When you let out an amused scoff, his lips captured the snarky comment that was bound to follow. He pulled you closer and lifted you up, and the next second you were sitting on the edge of a vanity cabinet, breathless from the kiss, tugging at the striped shirt.

A buzz right next to you.

You jumped, startled, and glared at the phone. “Is it too late to tell Matthias the Uber driver that we’re not going anywhere?” you asked without too much hope as you nuzzled your face to Neil’s neck, breathing in his scent, unwilling to let this moment end too quickly.

Neil chuckled and stroked your arms. “Come on, it’s gonna be fun.”

You still didn’t know where he was taking you - he’d assured you that it would be casual, and that was basically all you cared about. He knew you enough, and you trusted his judgement, after all.

“It better be,” you pouted, pulling back, but as soon as you met the bright blue eyes your heart sang in your chest. After spending all that time in the darkness, not sure if you’d ever see his face again, you caught yourself taking an extra second every now and then, just looking at him. How the light played on his features, now soft in the elaborately illuminated hotel bathroom. How his lips curled whenever he found your gaze. How utterly stunning he was.

Smiling gently, you ran your fingers through Neil’s disheveled mane, taming the blonde mess if ever so slightly.

“Let’s not keep Matthias waiting, then,” you sighed and slid off the cabinet.

-------

The afternoon was quite warm for late autumn. As you were arriving at your destination, you watched the sun shining through the scarce leaves left on the trees, adding vibrance to their colours. Too mesmerized to pay attention to the route, you recognized the place only when the car stopped. The training site. You turned to Neil in confusion, but he just wiggled his brows and proceeded to thank the driver and got out of the car. You followed him out and right through the gate of the now-empty paintball outdoor facility which served as a front for the agency’s base, hidden a bit further inside the forest.

“Picking up something on the way?” you asked, matching his pace as you strolled towards the training grounds.

Neil shook his head and smiled mysteriously. “Not really.”

“Alrighty then, keep your secrets,” you snorted, rolling your eyes. “Aren’t we a tad overdressed for a little playground fun, though?”

“A rematch?” he pondered and smirked. “Didn’t plan on that, but it’s tempting.”

Indeed. “I’m kinda out of shape, but keep those baggy trousers on and I’m game - wanna beat you fair and square again.”

Neil let out an exasperated huff. “Baggy?! They might be a bit loose but --”

You giggled at his offended expression as he got busy looking down at the target of your remark, ready to defend his fashion choice. Your laughter was enough to stop Neil in his tracks, and when he met your playful gaze, he reached out and drew you into his arms for a tight hug. After a brief moment of perplexity, you eased into his embrace, moved by the force of sudden affection.

When he pulled back, you touched his cheek. “What was that for?” you asked, searching the blue eyes, but finding nothing but joy there.

“Being cheeky.” He scrunched his nose while tapping the tip of yours. “And brilliant,” he added, and for a second you were sure there was something else he wanted to say; instead, he laid a gentle kiss on your lips. “And maybe stalling a minute longer before I’d have to share you with all these people.”

You gaped at him, about to ask what people, but Neil already grabbed your hand and led you around the corner of the building - and you heard them even before you spotted them.

“Oi, there they are!”

“Finally!”

“We’ve just considered sending a rescue party in case you got lost in the woods!”

The unexpected eruption of cheers and greetings made your fight-or-flight reflexes kick in, but as you instinctively took a step back, Neil squeezed your fingers reassuringly.

A split-second exchange of looks.

All right?

When he saw your tiny nod, he let go of your hand, focusing on the team gathered at the makeshift chillout zone. “Not everyone has your poor sense of directions, Seb,” retorted Neil, flashing his teeth in a grin.

The young man’s protests got drowned in laughter as you approached the group together.

"Luckily not the case with our rogue here,” said Ives, elbowing his way in between other people. He shot you both a disapproving look, toned down by a smile dangling in the corner of his mouth. "Really, roofs? Didn't know you had it in you, mate."

"Me neither,” admitted Neil, going in for a clasp of hands and a brief hug. “When I saw that gap, I was sure that was it. Someone convinced me otherwise."

“The secret is to avoid looking down,” you shrugged, meeting the commander's amused gaze.

"Thanks for bringing our favourite nerd back in one piece." As Ives extended his hand, there was something serious about his expression, mixed with a sense of relief, and you realised he must have been in the response team Neil had called for help.

“My pleasure.” Beaming, you shook his hand. “Thanks for providing backup.” And scraping me off the pavement.

Neil’s gasp was almost theatrical. He smirked and nudged Ives lightly. “Aw, I’m your favourite?”

“Careful, that privilege may be revoked any minute,” grunted Ives in a weak attempt at keeping up appearances, but he couldn’t fool anyone. Now that you had a chance to observe them in the after-hours situation, the bond between the two men was clear as day, and your heart warmed up at the thought.

Waving back at Mahir, you scanned the group for other familiar faces. Wheeler, a couple of people you recognized from the HQ halls, and a bit isolated from the others - the big man himself, manning the barbecue station.

Overwhelmed by the attention you got from the team, you excused yourself and walked up to The Protagonist. You couldn’t help but smile at the confident vibe he radiated with as if he spent every weekend doing nothing but this.

“So dad of you, boss.”

He flopped a sizzling piece of meat to the other side, glancing at you humorlessly.

“How are you feeling?” he asked with polite concern.

“Grand, healed up nicely, thank you.” You circled your shoulder and grinned. “Not in a marathon condition, mind you, but that’s not exactly new.”

“That’s good, Neil was worried about you.”

Not sure if it was the lack of eye contact or something else in his presence, but you decided to stop ignoring the gut feeling.

“You don’t like me,” you said, tilting your head. A mere statement of the fact; you weren’t hurt, only curious. “It’s okay, you don’t have to, just been wondering why.”

TP sighed heavily. And when he finally met your gaze, the dark eyes were sad, only deepening your confusion.

“I’m sorry.” Then something cracked and a shiver ran down your spine, because suddenly, in front of you there was a man who’d seen a lot, suffered too much, and cared even more. The weight of it all slumped his shoulders, and for a short while, he seemed almost helpless. Taking a quick look at the hollering group, he sighed again. “It’s not your fault, it’s--“ he hesitated, searching for the right words. As he found them, there was no sign of the vulnerability from a moment earlier. “It’s a stressful business.” He sent you a crooked smile. “And I’m still mad about that watch.”

The lie was obvious. But the things you saw in his eyes made your chest clench painfully, and…did you really want to know?

Besides, that might have been a truce offering, and you weren’t bent on holding a grudge. Not with him, anyway.

“Hey, wasn’t it technically your idea?” you grinned, shrugging off the weird sense of dread.

A smile finally reached the dark irises. “I guess it was,” he admitted and patted you on the arm. “There’s some beer in the mini-fridge, could you --”

“On it.”

When the clank of bottles sealed your peace treaty, you caught Neil’s happy stare. You pointed at the beer in your hand in a question and he nodded, so you grabbed one more and joined him and the others.

That unfortunate mission must have been some sort of rite of passage in these guys’ eyes because out of the blue, you were no longer an outsider. The Cavalry accepted you with open arms as one of their own, and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. It was a nice feeling, though. Like you belonged. You saw some curious glances, but they came from a good place, and even the suspicious voice in your mind gave in under the cordial, jovial energy of the group.

Soon enough, you were joking with a young medic, having a balancing stand-off with Wheeler, or listening to crazy stories from some old operations, until everyone had enough booze in their systems that allowed them to direct some of the questions to you, as well.

“So is Neil a decent locksmith now?”

You puffed out your cheeks in a musing grimace, but when you spotted Neil’s raised brow, you started laughing. “I’d say even more than decent. Honestly? I don’t think there’s much more that I can teach him, he needs to polish his skills in real life now.” Mocking a teary sniff, you added, “They grow up so fast!”

Nobody would know that you did so while actively ignoring a faint sting in your heart.

You refrained from meeting the attentive blue eyes, though. Just in case.

“Oh cool, then what about a little contest?” Seb clapped his hands cheerfully. “You versus Neil, we could time you, and to make it fairer we could put a blindfold on you --” as he stopped for a breath, he realized - with some help from Wheeler’s elbow to his side - the slight faux pas.

But you barely acknowledge a curse and a mumbled apology cutting through the awkward silence, too busy exchanging amused looks and stifled giggles with your student.

“Neil, would you like to explain?” you asked, schooling your features.

He bowed his head as if he was accepting a great honor. “Gladly.” Neil took a deep breath and his eyes lit up. “See, my dear friend, had you known anything about lockpicking, you’d learnt that sometimes it’s easier to do that with, for example, your eyes closed. You need to listen to what the lock has to say because it’s all about feedback--”

You watched as Neil gave a full lecture, citing your own words from what seemed to be a lifetime ago. He did it with passion and understanding of the craft you’d never dreamed to see in someone else, and yet was so familiar when it came to him. Absentmindedly, you placed a hand over your chest, as if it was enough to stop it from bursting.

You couldn’t be more proud.

Neil finished his rant and looked at you, only to be met with all the appreciation and validation in your gaze, and he beamed even wider.

“All right, damn, we can cover Neil’s eyes then,” sighed Seb, a total resignation in his voice sparking a roar of laughter from the group.

----

As much as you enjoyed the energy of the team, your social batteries were getting drained, and you needed a moment for yourself before you could carry on.

Walking right outside of the periphery of light from the garlands, you let your gaze slide across the training equipment, now barely visible in the moonless night. The leaves crumbled under your feet as you smiled at the memories. Maybe one day you would actually complete the full run? You pulled on the sleeves of your sweater, hiding your hands from the cold evening air.

“Mind if I join you?”

You glanced over your shoulder at Neil, keeping his distance, ready to give you space. With him, it was always in the details he’d picked along the way, effortlessly weaving them into everyday life. “Not at all.”

Neil perked up and joined you in the shadows, inhaling deeply.

“Funny how the scent of the forest changes with the seasons,” he mused and you grinned, turning his way.

“That’s what I call a pick-up line,” you snickered and drew a long breath. “But you’re right, it’s too easy to forget that once you become a permanent city creature.”

He chuckled and lightly rubbed his hands up and down your arms.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked softly, fixing your oversized scarf.

“Yeah.” You brushed your cheek against his fingers, longing for his touch, now that you were somewhat hidden from the prying gazes. “You?”

Neil moved closer and wound one arm around your waist, then cupped your face gently, pressed his forehead to yours, and murmured, “Now I am.”

You hummed happily and slid your hands under his open jacket, resting them at his chest, and closed your eyes. Only then realizing how tense you were, you relaxed in his embrace, savoring his closeness. A steady heartbeat under your palms. The warmth carrying undertones of Neil’s cologne. A featherlike graze of his thumb over your cheek. His nose nudging yours.

But soon enough, you had to break a stolen moment. Trying to stifle a yawn, you hid your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.

“Oh, my poor baby,” he cooed, biting back a giggle. “That tired?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled against him on the verge of another yawn.

“Sure you are.” He kissed your temple. “The party’s almost over anyway, judging by decreasing amount of idiotic ideas per hour. Gonna call us a cab soon, all right?”

As you nodded, Neil tightened a hug and reluctantly let you go.

“Be right back, I’ll check if there’s any coffee left,” you said, gesturing towards the tables with beverages.

As your luck would have it, there was just enough for one sip.

A sudden sneer was enough to wake you up, though.

“Hell froze over.”

Mahir walked up to the mini-fridge to grab a beer and you met his mocking stare with furrowed brows.

“Vincent must be chattering his teeth now,” you joked, unsure where the conversation was heading. “Why?”

Mahir scoffed at the remark about your old associate, but he was still studying you closely, confusing you further. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Dude, you’re killing me today,” you sighed, wiping a hand through your face. “Thanks, but what for?”

“You and Neil?”

And when you shot him a puzzled look, he waved his bottle at the place where you stood together a moment before.

Breaking out in a cold sweat, you deadpanned, “Oh.”

Bloody hell.

“I thought you weren’t doing the whole love thing anymore.”

The pulse pounded in your ears, although not loud enough to tune out the sirens blazing in your head.

No.

It came out harder than you felt it. “I’m not.”

No, no, no, no, no.

Mahir grimaced doubtfully. “Uh-huh.” He looked over your shoulder at the team gathered together in the distance and raised a brow. “Does he know that?”

You couldn’t force yourself to follow his gaze. The panic drained your face of all colour, and that was enough of an answer for your friend.

“I see.” Mahir shook his head, losing the enquiring manner. His features softened as he patted your arm. “Neil’s a good guy.”

Please, no.

“They always are,” you choked out bitterly.

Not again.

“You know what I mean,” insisted Mahir, searching for your eyes.

That the history was not gonna repeat itself?

...or that he didn’t deserve any of it?

“Yeah. Maybe.” You faked a smile. “Excuse me.”

Pushing past him, you went inside the building. You needed to be alone.

Oh, the irony.

Weeks of deliberately avoiding the topic. Tricking yourself into thinking that you can keep it casual. That it didn’t matter that much. That it was nothing but a self-indulgent fling.

You couldn’t breathe.

Lesson learnt, huh?

Barging into one of the restrooms, you got to a sink. Clenching your hands on the cold ceramic, you fought nausea tearing through your body.

Pathetic.

The gasp for air turned into a sob.

...and then everything went quiet.

You raised your eyes to the mirror.

Your reflection was staring back at you with determination.

It was time.

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #robert pattinson #tenet #tenet fanfiction #long nights

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mythicamagic · 4 years ago

Text

The Colour of Love: Sesskag oneshot

This oneshot is dedicated to @chierafied as thanks for all her hard work and organisation in the sesskag community, particularly on tumblr for sesskag week and monthly prompts. She's also a wonderful sesskag author and always offers advice or a kind word ^^

Rated T

Summary: Shippo puts a spell on Kagome that allows her to see emotions in colour. It's fun to test out on her friends, but why is she seeing an awful lot of magenta around Sesshoumaru whenever she comes near? Sesskag oneshot

The Colour of Love

"I just need to test it on someone. You'll help, won't you?"

Kagome eyed the ominous glowing beverage in the fox's hands dubiously. She winced and picked up a basket, walking away with every intention of weaselling out of the conversation.

"Shippo, no offence, but the last time you tested something on me for class, horns sprouted out of my head and green pimples covered my face for an entire week. I'm not super keen on being your guinea pig this time, buddy."

His tail twitched and lowered, but her words did little to deter Shippo. He followed the miko as she attended to her chores; freeing swaying sheets from where they'd been hanging out to dry and folding them neatly into a basket.

"Oh pleeassee, Kagome! Sensei oversaw my casting process this time- there's no danger, honest! It's not even that cool of a spell."

Kagome arched a brow, lifting off another sheet and smoothing the cool creases. That was odd, Shippo always preferred the flashier spells. "What does it do?"

"It would let you see everyone's emotions in colour."

She tilted her head, "in colour? How would that work?"

Shippo grinned mischievously, holding up his cup and shaking it gently. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

Giggling, she thought for a moment, biting her bottom lip. "I guess it sounds pretty harmless. And this is for a grade?"

"Yes!" he nodded rapidly, eyes widening as his tone became pleading. "Sensei already graded all the other kids! I'm the only one who hasn't passed yet, and everyone else in the village refuses to help me! I'd owe you big time, Kagome. Please?"

Giving a large, put-upon sigh and folding the last of the sheets, Kagome squatted down before him. "Alright, alright. I just have to drink it?"

Green eyes brightened, and he handed the cup over eagerly, the contents nearly spilling. "Mhm! The effects should only last for a few days~!"

The glowing blue shimmer within her cup didn't exactly fill Kagome with confidence, but she didn't want to stifle his progress. It was wonderful that Shippo could advance in his magic at a kitsune school. Secretly, she felt somewhat guilty about the subject. She hadn't been able to witness his growth for three years after being stuck in the future.

Steeling herself and deciding to support him, Kagome downed the foul-tasting concoction. Coughing and blinking away thick tears that stung her lashes, her tongue roved around in her mouth as though trying to escape the taste of sour candy mixed with spices and mint leaves. What an odd combination. Shaking herself and noticing Shippo watching her worriedly, blue eyes widened as a faint shade of grey coiled and moved around the outline of his body like a shining aura.

"I-I think I see it?" Kagome gasped, reaching out and trying to touch the thing, though it had no solid form.

"Really?" Shippo lit up, the colour immediately becoming a tentative yellow, which only shone brighter into a canary hue when she nodded.

Giving a happy cheer, Shippo asked her about any side effects, which were none as far as she could tell.

They then decided to walk around Kaede's village together, Kagome noting any people they passed by and the colour of their current emotions. Shippo hurriedly took notes.

"There's Miroku meditating-" Kagome pointed to the quiet meadow they passed where the monk sat calmly, having gained two pupils to teach. Monks in training. Inuyasha had voiced his doubts that it would last long once the monks witnessed Miroku's less than savoury habits.

"His aura thingy is lavender and seems controlled," she observed in a hushed tone.

The little kitsune made a noise of affirmation, writing that down on a trailing scroll. "I think purple must be linked with spirituality then? This is great info!"

Giggling, she nodded, noticing how faint the pupil's auras were. She wondered if her own focus on spirituality would be strong or weak.

Moving on, noticed Sango outside her hut, who seemed absorbed in rocking her infant son while he dozed. Her twins were playing with some spinning tops that Shippo had given them.

"What do ya see, Kagome?" he tugged at her pant leg.

She hummed, gaze gentling. "Sango is radiating a kind of baby pink glow. The twins are like yours earlier- yellow and excited."

"So I guess love is pink," Shippo nodded.

Noticing something, Kagome waved a hand slightly. "Hold on-"

"Hm?"

Kaede and Rin were walking towards them, engaged in conversation. The little girl chirped on about something or other, while Kaede nodded indulgently.

"Kaede and Rin have pink auras too, but it's different. It's a pale pink, more like a pearl."

Shippo tapped his small chin with a pen Kagome had lent him. "Hmm…"

"I guess it makes sense since there are different types of love, don't you think?" gently prodding him, she smiled.

"Oh! So like they're feeling something kinda similar to Sango, but different."

"Right," Kagome grinned wider, proud of him. "Familial love for Sango, and platonic, friendly love for Kaede and Rin."

The old miko and her charge stopped to greet them on the path. "What are ye both up to today?" Kaede's single eye slid down to the scroll questioningly.

Kagome waved it off. "Just some schooling."

"Yeah, but it's fun! We're testing magic!"

Rin gaped at Shippo, aura turning green. "Aww, can I help them?" she turned to Kaede with a pout, clasping both hands and making big brown eyes even wider.

"Ye have your own training to attend to, Rin. Come along," the old woman kept walking with a dusty chuckle.

Whining good-naturedly with a now agitated orange glow about her, Rin trudged after her guardian, giving a despondent farewell to Shippo.

At that moment, foul cursing filled the air. The loud, booming swear caused nesting birds to take flight from their trees near the village.

The miko and kit shared a dry look.

"Inuyasha," they sighed in unison.

Needless to say, their former travelling companion's emotions glowed a vibrant red- outshining even the robe of the fire rat. He held his sore thumb, having accidentally hammered it while fixing a neighbour's chicken coop. Kagome wisely hid her laughter, feeling a plume of affection for him, since he'd taken it upon himself to help a neighbour.

I wonder what colour surrounds me when I look at Inuyasha, she wondered, fishing out a small mirror. Unfortunately, she couldn't see the colour. Though they'd broken up after a couple of weeks of dating, that candle of first love between them wouldn't be snuffed out completely. Since she couldn't coax that flame any higher than a tiny, nostalgic flame, she wagered it to be a kind of pastel pink colour.

After a few hours, Shippo looked down at the list of emotions they'd observed. "I think I got most of em' for now. We did great today, Kagome! Thanks so much!"

She giggled and ruffled his hair. "Don't sweat it, kiddo. I need to collect some herbs now, so if I see some new ones while I'm out, I'll let you know," Kagome grinned, leaning a basket against her hip. "I'll be able to see these emotions for a few more days, so no sense in turning in your test results early."

Shippo gave her a brief hug, before racing off to go organise his notes. Beaming with pride, Kagome walked out of the village and up a hill towards Inuyasha Forest with a small skip in her step. She'd helped! And luckily there'd been no side effects or worries of any kind.

Maybe I should help him out more often, she mused, noticing a certain Daiyoukai step out from beneath the shade of trees, powder blue shifting around his aura calmly. Smiling amiably, Kagome lifted a hand in greeting as their gazes met- before freezing.

Sesshoumaru's expression didn't change from its usual combo of placid, haughty and stoic. However, the energy surrounding him immediately dyed a deep, vibrant colour.

Kagome's breath hitched, eyes widening.

It plunged into a bold magenta hue, becoming a solid outline that coiled and thrummed.

She did not understand what it meant, but that she could elicit a change in emotion from him at all felt startling.

He stared at her, unblinking. As he drew closer and closer, Kagome tried to make sense of what he could be feeling, but his guarded eyes refused to risk any secrets being revealed.

"Miko," he acknowledged in his usual crisp, silky baritone. His way of a greeting.

"Sesshoumaru," she said, muscles tensing as he passed by, the silk of his billowing sleeve brushing the hypersensitive skin of her arm. Kagome blinked rapidly, reeling.

Shifting to watch him leave surreptitiously, she watched the magenta remain long after they'd parted ways, spying him duck into Kaede's hut to pay Rin a visit.

What the heck was that about?

Maybe it wasn't anything worth noting. Surely, just like anyone else, the Daiyouki had various emotions linked to things. People elicited different feelings from him; that was perfectly normal. But his mood had changed so swiftly upon seeing her that Kagome couldn't help but feel curious. What did magenta mean? Had she offended him? Did he always feel that specific emotion around her, or was it a one-off?

Turning on her heel, Kagome dismissed her task of fetching herbs in favour of seeking Shippo out again.

---

"What does magenta mean to you?"

"To me?"

Kagome nodded seriously.

Thinking for a moment, Shippo hummed and nommed on a lollipop, leaning back on the log he'd perched upon outside. "I dunno, it's a pretty colour but not a favourite. Can't get much use outta it with my crayons."

"No, I mean like - surely there has to be some demon opinion of magenta? Is it associated with a powerful emotion or something?"

Shippo shook his head, consulting the forgotten scroll. "My guess is- since purple is spiritual stuff, Sesshoumaru feels uh...like you remind him of holy things?"

Huffing out a sigh, she flopped down beside him, placing her chin in her hands. "Doubt that. He didn't seem calm," she mumbled, remembering the vivid intensity of his unblinking stare. "Hm, maybe since red- which is anger- and darker blue- which is sadness- has to mix to make the right shade of magenta, that means Sesshoumaru is both angry and sad when he looks at me." Kagome's stomach dropped. "Oh God, do I make him smad?"

Shippo snorted and tossed his lollipop aside to shake her arm, noticing the dazed look of worry glazing her eyes. "You don't make him smad."

Kagome remained unconvinced. The kit groaned, hopping up and grabbing her hand. "You don't! I'm sure it was just a coincidence he was feeling magenta around you. Let's go see!"

The miko stumbled after the exuberant fox, not fully realising where he intended to go until it clicked they were heading toward Kaede's hut. Kagome's heels abruptly dug into the earth, dragging. "Shippo!" she hissed. "He's visiting Rin- I don't want to interrupt."

"You won't be, it looks like they're saying goodbye already."

Blue eyes widened and her attention snapped up from the fox to land on some distant figures up ahead. Even from far away, Kagome could see the pearl pink aura coiling around Sesshoumaru as he lay a gentle hand upon Rin's head of brown hair. The girl beamed, giving off her own warm shine.

Kagome bit the inside of her cheek, heedless of her own approach now. She realized then just how personal and vulnerable the emotion spell could be- how rare and revealing it was to witness Sesshoumaru experiencing such a wholesome bond, free from violence. Enemies could potentially use it on each other to find out secret information easily.

The Daiyoukai seemed to inhale- abruptly stiffening and lifting his hand away from Rin as claws twitched, curling into his palm. Kagome witnessed the moment his aura bled darker, slipping from innocent pink into the strong shade of magenta- just as he turned his head in their direction. Golden eyes pinned her in place. Sesshoumaru seemed to grow tense and watchful, showing none of his previous warmth.

Shippo paused when they weren't too far away, glancing up and noticing Kagome's pale expression. "Uh... has it happened again?"

"It's even worse than before," Kagome whispered.

"Kagome, Shippo!" Rin called over to them, waving. "Are you still playing with magic?"

This seemed to catch Sesshoumaru's attention, ripping his heavy gaze away to land on his ward. "Magic?"

"Mhm! They're doing some kitsune homework with a spell," she smiled, seeming to gain a devious expression and hurrying over to grab Kagome's freehand, pulling her the rest of the way towards her lord. "Kagome! You should take a quick break and sit with Lord Sesshoumaru. Share some tea together!"

Horror churned fierce and fast through Kagome's system. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable, and prolonged exposure to her would no doubt suck for him if magenta was an irritated colour.

"That is unnecessary, Rin," Sesshoumaru uttered, confirming Kagome's suspicions. She winced a little anyway, wondering why it stung. "This one was just passing through, I will leave now."

Making a noise of complaint, the girl's grip tightened. "Well then, she should accompany you! W-we need medicinal herbs and you didn't gather any earlier, did you Kagome?"

She willed the earth to swallow her whole. "N-no…"

"Then it's decided! She can walk you to the forest since she's heading that way." Rin poked and prodded them to get moving. In all the confusion, Shippo slipped away to make some notes, giving Kagome a thumbs up- which she returned with a death glare.

Wondering what had come over Rin but being trapped by politeness to refuse, Kagome grimly started walking alongside Sesshoumaru, picking up a basket from Kaede's hut.

I shouldn't feel guilty or weird around him, she thought, trying to ease her worry. If he's getting bent out of shape just from seeing me, that's his problem. I'm pretty confident I haven't insulted him recently.

Kagome nodded silently to herself, endeavouring not to let Sesshoumaru's secret magenta emotion matter so much-

"You appear well."

Jumping, Kagome whipped her head up to the regal demon. "Huh?" she blinked, heat touching her cheeks. "Oh! Thanks!" the magenta outline grew bolder, much to her chagrin. "You look nice too. Aha-! I mean not nice- well, you look handsome- but in a good health way! Not a 'compliment on your looks' way. That's totally what I meant. "

Open mouth, insert foot.

His aura only seemed to fluctuate more, and Sesshoumaru's lips thinned. Kagome inwardly groaned. No doubt he hated her even more now!

She decided an attempt to smooth over everything was in order. "Sesshoumaru," she said, taking a breath. "I know we might not be what you'd consider close, but I'd be totally fine with talking about anything that might be bothering you. Even allies can talk about that stuff."

Sesshoumaru blinked languidly, looking as though she'd blurted out a foreign language. He then faced forward, features becoming tightly controlled. "Nothing unsettles me, miko. It is a foolish, human sentiment that I should be 'bothered' by anything."

Kagome rolled her eyes, mouth twitching. Proud, stubborn guy. She didn't know why she found it kind of endearing.

"Why are you so certain I am troubled?"

Her steps faltered before she strode on, biting her bottom lip. "I have a knack for feeling out these things. A woman's intuition," she grinned, noticing his stare rove lower, south from her eyes.

"Hn," golden eyes lingered. Kagome wondered if she'd gotten something stuck in her teeth. "Your intuition is certainly lacking if you are only just noticing something amiss."

A victorious noise escaped her and she immediately swooped in on the slip-up. Sesshoumaru seemed to wince. "Aha! So something IS wrong!"

"Miko-"

"It's just that you've been dealing with it for such a long time that it's become almost normal to you. That about right?" she grinned.

Kagome took his moody silence as a 'yes.'

"I'm sorry I didn't pick up on it earlier. Shippo's um...spell...has made me extra sensitive to how others are feeling," she revealed a half-truth. "I just can't work out how you're feeling. Heh, you're mysterious even when I've got magic to help me understand you."

"You wish to understand me?"

"Well, yes? You're our ally. As established; I'd like to be your friend too."

"I see."

"Sooo...?" Kagome hedged as they arrived at the border of the trees. The Daiyoukai stopped and turned to her once they were beneath the branches, having stepped under cool shade. Kagome quieted, wondering at the assessing, guarded look he pinned her with. Why should the mighty Lord Sesshoumaru guard himself against her of all people?

Pale lips quirked, and he hummed, giving a haughty, arrogant smirk. "Figure it out yourself."

Her mouth fell open. Ire immediately simmered real and hot beneath her skin. "That's not helpful, Sesshoumaru! The whole point of having friends is to share stuff! You can't expect people to know how you're feeling without you telling them, I'm not a mind reader."

He moved in slightly closer then, leaning down. Kagome swallowed but tensed her legs to keep from bending back, holding her ground and straightening her spine. It proved difficult. Sesshoumaru's cold features had a way of unnerving even the most hardened warriors. It was the lack of empathy or emotion in his animalistic gaze; the terrifying sense that something was missing; humanity.

But...

Kagome's eyes strayed to the magenta aura that only blazed thicker and larger, practically drowning her. The spell revealed, albeit without his consent; that Sesshoumaru was a man of feeling. In fact, whatever emotion plagued him, it roared stronger than any other persons she'd seen that day. Besides all that, she'd witnessed his care of others before. Been on the receiving end of it when he'd saved her a few times.

In the shade's hush, he tipped his head slightly, silver hair falling free from behind a pointed ear. "I am not a being that 'tells' other's information freely. Demons can glean enough from my body language, scent and actions enough to understand my feelings."

"And I appreciate that," Kagome said in a softer tone. "But I'm not a demon."

"Rin-"

"Is a child who has spent a lot of one-on-one time with you. I'd also wager that while she understands a lot of your intentions...she doesn't always understand you either."

Sesshoumaru begrudged her point, though seemed ever unwilling to let his mask slip to reveal anything.

Searching his gaze, she wet her dry lips. "What does the colour magenta mean to you?"

His aura flared, and Sesshoumaru surprised her by leaning back and stepping away. His features became a mix of things, the colours changing for the first time around him- grey, yellow, black, fluctuating on magenta and orange before settling on a particular shade of red that made her squeak.

No way- is he embarrassed?

"Why ask that?" he asked in a removed, steady tone. If she focused though, Kagome could pick up on the faint slip in his voice.

Kagome for once couldn't answer, heart hammering in her ribcage. She wasn't sure what to interpret from his reaction, but the colour obviously meant something to him. Shaking her head, Kagome waved it off.

"Never mind. I'll take your advice and work it out for myself."

He blinked and arched a brow, seeming to recover from his surprise. "Oh?"

Kagome made a noise of affirmation, turning on her heel and taking a few steps away. Pausing, she flashed him a smile over her shoulder. "And if I guess correctly, you agree to start telling me the important stuff. Deal?"

Sesshoumaru's face flashed with intrigue. Slowly, thin lips curved. His expression transformed into something quietly eager, the colour aura deepening into blazing magenta once more.

"Hn."

---

After asking near everyone she could think of for their input or ideas, Kagome ran into a brick wall, utterly stumped. That was- until she heard a certain irritatingly high, grating voice.

"But WHERE did Lord Sesshoumaru go?"

"I don't know, he said he was just passing through."

Jaken.

If anyone had insight into Sesshoumaru, it would be the little green imp. Kagome hurried in the direction of the helium sounding voice.

Finding Rin and Jaken by the village well, and struggling to pull a bucketful up together- Kagome quickly lent a hand, hefting the bucket up onto the side. The little girl grinned and thanked her, while Kagome crouched before Jaken, causing him to squeak.

"W-what is it? What do you want?!"

"I need to talk to you," Kagome said seriously. Resting her hands over her knees and leaning forward intently. "Magenta. Tell me your thoughts on that colour."

Bulbous yellow eyes widened. "Hah? Have you lost your senses, strange girl?"

Rin pouted and lifted the heavy bucket down, spilling some water. "Just do it, Master Jaken. If Kagome is asking, it must be important."

Kagome smiled a little, before schooling her features back into complete seriousness.

The imp sighed and squinted, before thinking for a moment. "Hmm, well. I would of course associate it with the most illustrious Lord Sesshoumaru!"

"H-huh? Why?"

"His cheek and wrist stripes are that exact shade! Don't you pay attention to anything?"

Kagome realised he was entirely correct. They matched up perfectly. Excitement built in her chest, feeling like she was FINALLY getting somewhere with the big mystery. "So it's linked with him… I see. What do you think the colour represents?"

"Haven't the faintest idea," he tilted his head back with a haughty sniff. "But since they adorn Lord Sesshoumaru, I can only conclude that it must be a royal, prideful colour."

Her elation fizzled out. Kagome wilted, sighing and standing once more. That didn't fit at all. No way would Sesshoumaru feel pride while looking at her.

Stepping away with the dismal thought that she was back at square one, she paused upon noticing a tugging on her sleeve. Rin clutched the trailing end of it, looking up at her in quiet earnest. She bit her lip and seemed to struggle with something. "I-I'm sure the answer is there if you just try asking more questions, Kagome."

The miko softened and petted her wild hair, smoothing the locks back from her face. "You really think so, kiddo? Because I'm kind of stumped right now."

"Mhm! I don't know what homework you're helping Shippo with, but if its causing you to take an interest in Lord Sesshoumaru, I encourage you to dig deeper!"

Kagome wasn't sure why she felt so strongly about the subject, her smile becoming a little confused. Nonetheless, she decided to take the advice and try again.

The right question…

Grabbing the back of Jaken's robes and tugging him back before he could walk off, Kagome knelt down. She decided to shift her focus. "Those markings on Sesshoumaru's face and wrists- I was wondering if they mean anything."

"Bah! Such things have a multitude of uses! Ahem!" he lifted up a tiny green claw. "Firstly, they are to show that he is poisonous."

Kagome stifled a giggle behind her hand, smiling with her eyes at Rin. "So he's like a flower."

"No! Nothing like a flower! He is deadly!"

"Poisonous flowers exist- but never mind that," she waved off. "What else?"

"Second, the positioning of the markings represents various things. The ones on mi lord's cheeks represent superior jaws, the wrists and ankles represent superior strength in his arms and legs, while the hips represent that he will produce superior offspring."

Kagome turned steadily red, wondering how low those stripes hooked down his hips. She hadn't even known he possessed hip stripes and was now picturing him half-naked. Kagome quickly shook the fantasy away. Rin didn't seem to understand that last part but thankfully remained quiet.

Jaken continued on, bolstered by such a captive audience and happy to talk about his favourite subject. "Lastly, they are to catch the interest of a mate."

"They... are?"

The imp nodded with vigour. "If you were the slightest bit observant, you'd notice that the vibrancy of his markings has emboldened recently. This means he is displaying for a female."

She had noticed that, actually, but Kagome hadn't thought anything of it. She felt close to a conclusion then, so achingly near to the truth. Swallowing to moisten her suddenly dry mouth, Kagome soldiered on.

"I saw that the ones on his cheeks had become bolder. What about his crescent moon?"

Jaken waved a tiny hand, "the moon is just to show which clan he belongs to. In relation to your original question, it is the magenta markings that are paramount. They are intrinsically linked with all that I noted; intimidation signals and mating."

Kagome nodded, inwardly reeling. She mulled this over and thanked him for the valuable insight. Magenta obviously meant more to Sesshoumaru than she'd ever thought.

In light of Jaken's words, Kagome found herself having to observe a certain set of emotions. Since mating was on the list, she reluctantly wandered in search of a known pervert.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she took Miroku to one side. After explaining the situation in a succinct manner, she took a breath.

"I need you to get horny for your wife."

Miroku stared. He then pushed back his sleeves, clearing his throat and righting his collar. "My time has come."

Kagome's eyes widened and she held up her hands, "wait- I'm not asking to be weird or anything. M-maybe I should explain more."

He lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, patting. "No further explanation necessary, Lady Kagome. If this is in service of deeper understanding between allies, I am more than happy to help. Observe."

Miroku breezily walked away, gravitating towards Sango who had set down their son, attention on the crawling toddler. Kagome groaned and buried her face in her hands- shifting some fingers aside to witness the moment Miroku's calm blue aura darkened.

For a moment, panic leapt down her windpipe as it deepened into purple, hovering over magenta- before the aura settled on a lush hot pink.

The sound of a slap sounded out, Sango moving away from Miroku's groping hand. "I've told you before; not in front of the children!" she hissed.

Her husband laughed airly, stroking his cheek and giving her a fond smile. Kagome's heart warmed slightly, witnessing the hot pink glow into a warm pinkish red.

I think that must be the colour of love.

This, unfortunately, didn't answer any of her questions.

The possible things Sesshoumaru could be feeling toward her made the miko's stomach twist into knots. She went over what to say in her head a dozen or so times- and then a dozen more. It was no easy feat to wait on pins and needles for the demons' return. Inevitably though, word of his return reached her a few days later.

---

Sesshoumaru had been spotted by the trees bordering Inuyasha Forest so she'd set off alone immediately.

Since the sun beat down mercilessly, Kagome was unsurprised to find him by water. Elevated temperatures were likely brutal on those who regularly wore armour- evidenced by the fact that she walked in on him very much without it. Sesshoumaru knelt by a river, eyes closed and hankimono parted- exposing a thin sliver of firm, pale muscle. His head slightly dipped forward, hair held over one shoulder as one hand cupped cool water and splashed it over the back of his neck. Droplets ran down the length of his throat to dip around his collarbone- some sliding down his back. Sesshoumaru massaged the base of his skull, before cupping more water and repeating the process, long fingers running over the back of his glistening neck.

Kagome stared. She'd suddenly never been so thirsty in her life.

His lashes fluttered open to glance at her. His continued silence prompted her to clear her throat and murmur; "I'm not sure if I've got it right."

"Explain."

Kagome felt a blush rise to her cheeks and panic erupted in her chest. She suddenly wasn't ready. She wasn't nearly as ready for this as she needed to be. Approaching the Daiyoukai dressed in a white tank top and dungarees had not been the plan but she'd impulsively sought him out without thinking about it.

His voice turned softer, almost coaxing. "What conclusion did you reach?"

Kagome bit her lip and felt the need to explain her process of elimination. "First off; I feel like I should be honest with you. I can see the colours of people's emotions around them due to a spell Shippo used on me. That's why I was asking about magenta. It's...it's the emotion you keep feeling whenever you see me- I just had no idea what it meant."

Golden eyes cracked a fraction wider, exposing the liquid honey swimming inside, glinting in the afternoon sunlight with interest.

"I asked Jaken about the colour since he has an insight into you more sound than other people. He told me that magenta was linked to your markings- which can represent intimidation signals and m-mating interest."

He arched a brow, something unnamed flickering over his expression. Kagome began pacing back and forth before him. "So! The first thing I did was follow Inuyasha into a fight. There was a weasel youkai bothering a farmer. I noticed Inuyasha's aura turned a brownish, orangey-red during the fight and concluded that was likely aggression! So I figured you weren't feeling defensive around me," she gave a nervous giggle. Why was the sun so damn bright? The humidity only elevated the spike of nerves pricking the back of her neck.

"Next came the... other thing," her voice dimmed and Kagome evaded eye contact. "I noticed Miroku feeling uh...frisky around his wife. His aura turned hot pink- so it wasn't magenta- not that I thought you could ever feel that way about...me," she babbled. "Hell, I've consulted Shippo's scroll a thousand times. I've run through all the emotions we could find and- gah! I couldn't find anything that explained magenta. I guess I failed in figuring out what's bothering you," her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You went to all that trouble?"

Kagome lifted her gaze to his, loosely holding her arms. "Well, yeah. I kind of realised that I wasn't being fair to you the other day. You shouldn't be expected to verbalise your problems if you're not comfortable doing so. It's a different method than what I'm used to in order to communicate- but if you're happy doing that I won't push you to open up to me."

Since she'd failed to work out his problems, however, Kagome grimly figured there was no hope of them being friends. The thought somewhat bothered her. Sesshoumaru was a solid, assuring presence to have around. It would've been nice to have a deeper insight into the inner mechanisms of his cerebral mind.

Maybe priestesses and demons just can't understand each other.

A shadow fell over her, bathing Kagome in shade. She looked up, finding his curious, burning gaze bearing down on her.

As usual, magenta coiled and expanded around him. So large and encompassing.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head slightly. "Some actions do not require words in order to understand them."

Kagome could only blink, face heating as he hooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted it up- before her heart burst into overdrive in time with lips pressing against hers.

Her squeak came out muffled, hands scrambling uselessly and finding his shoulders, quickly lurching away from the firm muscle to hover uselessly in the air. Sesshoumaru grabbed one of her hands and forced it to his broad shoulder, holding it there as he explored her open mouth.

The miko reeled, dazed eyes picking up the shining magenta aura before her lashes slid shut. Kagome let out a breathy noise as his tongue slid over hers, reciprocating for a moment before her mind caught up with the situation and- WHAT THE HELL WAS SHE DOING?

Kagome's palm pushed against his broad shoulder, ripping her mouth away from his and panting. Sesshoumaru remained close, breath shuddering slightly, gaze hooded.

"That-" she started, having to lick her lips. "That requires MANY words, buster. So many words are needed to explain what the hell just happened."

The Daiyoukai managed to look put out, eyes turning flat. "It seems your ignorance requires a lack of subtlety, but I do not mind. If it is necessary to have you- I will adapt and explain myself."

"To... have me?" Kagome's breath hitched. Somehow magenta was all she could see- his cheek markings so bold and bright.

Sesshoumaru's jaw ticked, eyes squinting and attention shifting away as he seemed to gather his thoughts and construct them onto his tongue.

"Magenta is the colour of love to inuyoukai."

He said it so easily. After all that confusion and so much second-guessing, Kagome was almost angry with him. Almost. The rest of her brain was too focused on processing the unthinkable thing he'd just said and the implications behind it.

"But...your markings…" she croaked.

"Have little to do with it- though Jaken's explanation was not incorrect."

Kagome shook her head, searching his face. "I just...I'm struggling to understand h-how? I mean, you can't feel that way about me."

"Why not?"

"B-because!" she squeaked, cheeks blazing red. "Isn't love a bit of a leap? You barely know me."

Sesshoumaru huffed, placid features shifting to become slightly guarded. He didn't know when it had started happening for he was in the middle before he even knew he had begun, but more and more, he sought her opinions and company. She spoke well and intelligently after all- had destroyed Naraku and the jewel with such power and finesse that had made his instincts stir. "I know enough. This is not something recent. I have watched... and wondered for some time."

"Wondered... what?"

"If it was possible to bridge the gap between us. Perhaps it was foolish to think we could be compatible."

He had a point. Even a spell hadn't helped her understand him any easier. But when Sesshoumaru slowly stepped back, quiet disappointment simmering behind his blank mask yet clear in his eyes- something like panic possessed her. Kagome grabbed his sleeve, blushing harder.

She wasn't sure why alarm had shot through her- but the idea of losing their soft, hopeful flickering flame before they'd even coaxed it brighter to see what heights it could reach felt like something she'd regret forever if she let him go.

Kagome stepped closer. "Not foolish. This is just really unexpected for me."

Golden eyes roved over her face questioningly.

"The colour of love is different for humans, so it never even crossed my mind that THAT was what you've been struggling with. Jaken mentioned you were displaying for a female but- wow," she murmured, gentling. "Thank you... for telling me. No one's ever said that to me before."

Sesshoumaru's expression warmed, just a touch. He inclined his head slightly and Kagome felt an odd flutter in her belly.

"I'm not in the same place as you emotionally but- if- if you'd want to try this human thing called 'dating' we could give it a shot and get to know each other better."

"Hn," Sesshoumaru gave her a considering look, and she almost thought he might decline before the ghost of a smile tilted up his lips. "What is 'dating?'"

Kagome's face burst into a grin, and she took his clawed hand. "You're gonna love it. It involves a lot of talking."

He gave a mock groan, aura glowing brighter.

Naturally, Shippo passed his test with flying colours. His sensei was particularly impressed by his observation of both human and inuyoukai emotions in particular.

He decided to use the spell on himself several months later, laughing and chasing Rin around the village, happy to see the yellow aura dancing around her. Something of note he noticed when rushing by was a certain miko and demon lord practising archery together in a field. As Kagome corrected his large stance, hand guiding his elbow down slightly as he aimed, the warm colours of pinkish red and magenta entwined, lacing like long, seeking fingers gently interlocking.

End

#sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #Sesshoumaru #Kagome Higurashi #sesskag fanfiction

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Riding On

Ch 20- Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Summary: Frank and Fliss head off for their trip to Vermont…

Warnings: Bad Language words, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: WOOHOOO MY MOJO IS BACK! And who better than to bring it back than FRISS! This one’s a LONG update, and I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not!!! I hope you all enjoy!! Happy New Year! Gotta thank @sweater-daddiesdumbdork for her Vermont knowledge that helped pull this all together.

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

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 19

“How many times have you read that now?” Fliss asked as Frank pulled the well-worn copy of ‘Man’s Search For Meaning’ from the small carry-on bag.

“I have no idea.” Frank shrugged as he kicked the bag under the seat in front of him.

“It’s at least five in the time we’ve been together.”

“Well it’s my favourite.” Frank looked at her. “You know you should give it a go.”

“What’s it about and don’t say a man searching for meaning.” Fliss cut off his sarcastic response before he could utter a word and he chuckled.

“It’s about a guy in a Nazi concentration camp.” Frank explained. “It describes his psychotherapeutic method which involved identifying a purpose in life to feel positive about, and then actively imagining the outcome. Basically how meaning of life is found in every moment of living and that life never ceases to have a meaning, even in suffering and death.”

“So, light reading then.” Fliss snorted and Frank gave a chuckle.

“I used to recommend it to my second year students.” His fingers traced the cover gently. “One of the modules on the Metaphysics side of things focussed on Ontology which is the study of the nature of being, existence or reality, so to speak, which linked into the Philosophy of mind and studying mental properties, consciousness and the relationship that has to the physical body in particularly the brain.” He rambled off as he looked at Fliss. “The book has it all. It’s the reason I decided to study Philosophy and not Math”

Fliss smiled at him, her head cocking to one side. “You sound so passionate about it.”

“Well, I enjoyed it.” He let out a deep breath. “Safe to say Mother wasn’t a fan. She was, and is still, far too logically minded. She preferred the study of mathematical problems as oppose to fundamental ones concerning matters such as existence, knowledge, values and mind…” he trailed off “Maybe a little part of it was rebellion, I don’t know.”

“Do you miss it?” Fliss asked.

Frank took a deep breath “Honestly, yeah, sometimes.” He shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about going back but I wouldn’t even know where to start now. It’s been almost 10 years since I taught, the techniques will have all moved on.”

“Sure it wouldn’t take you too long to pick it up again.”

“I’m happy as I am, honey.” He smiled.“Maybe when I get older…”

“How much older do you wanna be?” Fliss teased “I mean you’re 40 next year.”

Frank shot her a look and she laughed, her hand squeezing his knee, but before he could reply the PA cut in and the Pilot spoke to them, announcing that they would soon be ready to commence their flight. It wasn’t long after that before they were asked by one of the hostesses to fasten their seat belts and the plane jolted as it pulled away from the stand and set off taxying to the runway.

Frank needn’t have bothered with his book after all, as their chat just continued as it usually did, and a beer or two later they were both surprised when the Captain announced the approach into Philly. By the time they’d gotten off the plane and made their way through the transfer line, they actually only had half an hour or so to spare so they grabbed a quick coffee each and made their way to the gate ready for the final leg. At quarter-to-three in the evening they touched down in Vermont and Frank didn’t miss the excitement in Fliss’ eyes as she turned to him and uttered one simple word through her grin.

“Snow!”

He chuckled and took her hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin below her knuckles, keeping his fingers laced into hers as they waited for the plane to come to a halt at the stand before they stood up. Frank stretched his arms above his head, flinching a little as Fliss reached out to tickle the strip of skin on his belly that had appeared thanks to his sweater riding up slightly. He grabbed her hand and arched an eyebrow as she giggled.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Cowgirl.” His voice dropped a little and it sent shivers down her spine as she bit her lip, peeking up at him with innocent eyes. Eventually, the line in the aisle started to move and Frank thanked a man who stopped to let them out, his hand warm on Fliss’ back as he guided her in front of him, dropping a kiss to her cheek as they made their way off the plane and into the airport.

By the time they’d gotten their luggage, which miraculously had made its way through without going missing, and picked the hire car up it was almost half-three. Frank tossed their bags into the trunk of the shiny grey Ford Explorer as Fliss made her way to the passenger’s side.

“Oh my God it’s so cold!” she grinned as Frank climbed in to the seat beside her.

He laughed as he adjusted his seat “Dur, snow.”

Fliss rolled her eyes and set about retrieving the email confirmation she had on her phone. She keyed in the GPS and Frank gave her a quick smile before they set off. The forty-five minute drive was full of laughter and an air of childish excitement. Fliss had settled on the Moscow area of Stowe, Vermont as it was less than fifteen minutes to the Ben and Jerry’s factory, and also within thirty minutes from the Smuggler's Notch resort for the weekly fireworks display. On Friday night they were heading out to the Ice Castles at Woodstock. That had been a total stroke of luck as the attraction normally closed early march but due to a slight delay in the opening this season thanks to some 'technical difficulties', whatever that meant, their last weekend open coincided with this one. Fliss had booked the five thirty to six pm time slot as recommended by Jake who had been with his kids the previous year, meaning they would be inside when it lit up.

The sun was starting to set as Frank pulled off Route 89 and they got a glimpse of the town for the first time. It didn’t escape Fliss as to how festive it looked, like a scene straight from a Christmas card with the snow-capped rooves on the red buildings and the bright white spire of the church. It was another ten minutes or so before Frank turned onto the road where their lodge was and Fliss pointed suddenly as she spotted the one they were looking for.

“That’s it. Adams Mill Cottage.”

Slowing down, Frank pulled up on the drive and cut the engine, the pair of them looking at their home for the next few nights. It was gorgeous. Set back off the road, someone had been and cleared a path from the drive to the door. The rear outside porch area which bent round the property in an L-shape was lit up with strings of rope and fairy lights, and Frank could see the steam rising from the hot tub as it snaked from under the covers, nestling in the privacy and shade of the hilly area the house was flush too, the rest of the private yard area was closed off by a wooden fence.

“Looks even better in real life than on the photos.” Fliss grinned. Frank looked at her, and she gave a little squeal of excitement before she yanked open the door another exclamation about it being cold hit his ears before the door shut behind him. Shaking his head at her enthusiasm he let out a little chuckle before he stepped out and followed her to the door where she was already working at the key safe, keying in the code she’d gotten on the confirmation. Frank grabbed the bags from the trunk and headed over to where Fliss was now unlocking the door. They both stepped inside what was to be their home for the next few nights, stamping their feet off on the mat before Frank closed the door.

“Wow…” Fliss muttered as she looked around, the smell of an open wood fire cascaded around the room and Frank took a deep breath through his nose, savouring it. He loved that smell, it reminded him of nights when he was a kid with his dad in front of the huge one they had at home, one that post his Father’s death had on the whole remained unlit as his Mom and Walter had preferred to use the central heating, lighting it only for weekends and special occasions.

They made their way into the living area to find it was cosily decorated in neutral colours, with a large grey L-shaped sofa, a light wooden floor which was partially covered by a cream and grey rug upon which a glass coffee table sat. But the thing that drew Frank’s attention was the huge stone chimney breast and fireplace in which the fire was crackling away. There were large windows on three sides of the room, which looked out onto the snowy garden area and he couldn’t help the sigh of satisfaction that left his mouth. This was his type of property. He loved their home in Pinellas, that was a given as they’d spent a lot of time decorating it to their taste but there was something about this type of cabin that he loved. Together they wandered through to the kitchen which was very farmhouse-like, adorned with silver, grey and white tiles and a huge Aga stove along one wall.

Fliss’ eyes grew wide as she took it all in, running her hand over the solid oak island in the middle before she glanced out of the patio doors and let out a happy little sigh.

“Oh Frank, I love it.”

He moved to hug her from behind as they both stood looking at the view.

“Just wait till we’re outside in the tub with that back drop!” Fliss beamed, nodding to where the little woodland edge met the lawn of the garden. Frank smiled, dropped a kiss to her cheek and then they continued their tour finding the bathroom and finally the bedroom which sported a large, king-sized bed with a huge grey headboard covered in a white and pink throw.

Frank placed their bags down, smiling.

“It’s beautiful.” Fliss turned to him, grinning, and Frank made a noise of appreciation as he undid his jacket, tossing it onto the chair in the corner.

“Like you.”

“Smooth!” Fliss laughed and he grinned, his hands falling to her hips as he pulled her close.

“You know me, all about the smoothness.” He quipped, rubbing his cheek against hers, his beard scratching her slightly and she squealed, attempting to get away, but he wasn’t letting go. Laughing, the pair of them pitched sideways onto the bed and Frank leaned over, kissing her gently. It wasn’t long before the kiss grew deeper and Frank pressed into Fliss, rolling her onto her back. Her hands tangled in his hair and his hands had just begun sliding their way up her top when there was a loud bang on the door that made the pair of them jump from surprise.

“Expecting someone?” Frank looked at Fliss who shrugged as he heaved himself up and made his way to the entrance hall, puzzlement overtaking any annoyance he had at being interrupted. He opened the heavy oak door it to be greeted by a kind faced man bundled up in a snow jacket and a hat, holding a box in his hands.

“Good evening!” he beamed at Frank “I have a delivery for Frankie and Titch?” The man’s eyes twinkled as he read the label and Frank snorted, there were only two people that called Fliss Titch, her dad and brother. And, given the use of the name Frankie, he’d lay odds on this was from Steve.

“Yeah, that’s us.” He smiled, reaching out to take it.

“Excellent. Welcome to Moscow.” He nodded as Frank took it “I’m from the Stowe Mercantile, and on behalf of myself and my wife we hope you enjoy your gift hamper. Feel free to pay us a visit. We’re on the high street.”

“I’m sure we will, and thanks.” Frank smiled at him as the man gave him a cheery little wave goodbye and headed back down towards his truck. Frank carried the hamper back to the kitchen where Fliss was examining the fridge which had been stocked with a little ‘Welcome package’ of basics such as milk, butter, bread, orange juice along with some Green Mountain Coffee Roasters pods for the coffee machine which stood in a little jar on the side.

“What’s that?” she asked, turning as Frank placed the box on the counter.

“A Hamper.” He said, taking the card off the top and handing it to Fliss to open.

She snorted as she saw who it was a dressed to and turned it over. “Frankie and Fliss, have a treat on me, Sian and the boys. Enjoy your time away and make sure you actually get out of bed enough to explore…” she read, shaking her head.“Idiot…”

“An idiot with good taste.” Frank mumbled, pulling out the bottle of Moet which was nestled in the hamper. When they dug further they found a bottle of decent Rioja, a Sancerre, a large block of Cabot Cheddar Cheese, some savoury crackers, chutneys, olives, croissants, some candy, Lake Champlain Chocolate, chips, breadsticks and dips.

“Looks like we got snacks for a while.” Fliss mused.

“And Sam Adams.” Frank grinned, holding up the four-pack. They stowed it all away, before they then took their bags into the bedroom and after quickly unpacking and, after changing into warmer clothes, they headed out, Fliss keying in the zip-code for Smugglers Notch.

They chatted as they went, laughing and joking about anything and everything and just like any time spent with his girl, it seemed to pass in a flash and after what felt like five minutes, but was in fact twenty-eight, Frank pulled their rented vehicle into a spot and they both climbed out, hastily bundling up into jackets, hats and scarves. Frank couldn't resist pulling the front of Fliss' pink woollen hat down over her eyes, just as he has done in New York, and she shoved him in the chest, her hand rustling against the fabric of his faux-fur trimmed SuperDry jacket, causing him to step back a little. He laughed as she set her hat straight and the two of them headed through the main entrance, winding round the side to the main area of the resort which was seemingly packed with visitors and locals alike. "This takes me back." Frank commented, a little nostalgia flooding his tone as he looked around at the various groups of people milling around. Some carried skis, others snow boards as they wound down from a day’s activity on the slopes, whilst others were simply there like they were for a few drinks and the fireworks. "Something I never learned to do." Fliss leaned into him, her right hand clutching his left, her left hand curling round his arm, almost hugging it to her. "I was never allowed in case I broke something that put me out of action." "Do you wanna learn?" Frank asked. She pondered for a moment and smiled "I dunno, is it hard?' "I found boarding easier than skiing." He mused. "Some people are the opposite though. Not sure I’d be able to do either anymore." "Maybe we should bring the kids for a long weekend, have a go." Fliss mused before she grabbed his arm tighter “Oh my God, we should so go sand boarding back home.”

Frank laughed. “I did it once, me and the guys. Jake ended up in the ER with bust ankle.” He sighed fondly. “It was a great day.”

“Maybe I could strap a line to Cap and get him to pull me.” Fliss mused and Frank looked at her, shaking his head.

“Can you not?” he sighed. “You already scare the crap out of me when you jump those damned fences.”

“I’ve jumped higher.” She shrugged

“Yeah, well, that was before you met me.”

“We could use your truck then.”

“No, Lissy.” He rolled his eyes.

She chuckled “Spoil sport.

“Behave.”

They continued to walk, passed the little stalls and shops pausing at one to grab a hot chocolate and a bag of warm sugared donuts. They ate and drank their treats, sitting on one of the benches outside, and Frank had just taken the last drink of his chocolate before something caught his eye and he gave a little sigh, his smile growing bigger.

“Oh shit, sugar on snow.” He breathed out softly, watching a family of four walking past clutching trays of the treat.

“What?” Fliss looked at him blankly.

“You never heard of sugar on snow?”

“Is that like a snow cone?”

“Kinda.” He looked at her, his eyes shining “They serve it in some places in Boston but it’s never the same. It’s hot maple syrup, served over actual snow, not ice.”

“Seriously?” Fliss grinned at the boyish excitement on his face and he nodded.

“Some people call it leather aprons, on account of the fact it goes kinda leathery in texture.” He explained “It’s fucking awesome, Lissy, I haven’t had it since I was a kid. A situation I feel that I should rectify right away.”

“Okay, Sailor, lead the way.”

With a grin, Frank hopped up, grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the vendor where they joined the queue and soon reached the front. Frank ordered two, paid and then draped his arm over Fliss’ shoulder as they watched the guy serving fill two trays with scoops of powdery snow from a large chest behind them. He passed the trays to the man to his left who stirred a large, metal pot full of hot, Maple Syrup which he then ladled over the snow.

“You guys want the sides?” the server asked and Frank nodded.

“Hold the donut but I’ll take the pickle.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Fliss held her hand out and turned to Frank. “Hold the donut but you’ll take the pickle? What the hell?”

The man behind the counter chuckled as Frank shrugged. “Yeah, the pickle cuts through the sweetness.” She looked at him, her face utterly perplexed and he laughed. “You like pickle, and you ate far worse when you were pregnant.”

“I happen to think my cravings were positively normal, thank you. Apple juice and chili fries.”

“Lissy, you dipped your McDonald’s fries in milkshake.”

“Steve does that anyway.” She shrugged.

“That doesn’t make it normal.”

“Neither is eating pickle along with syrup!” she rolled her eyes.

“You don’t know shit.” Frank scoffed before he turned back to the server. “I’ll take the pickle.”

“I won’t.” Fliss shook her head.

The server nodded and slid one tray over the counter. Frank moved, thanking him as he handed it to Fliss, taking the other with his precious pickle on the side. Fliss took a spoon full, and made an appreciative noise, nodding as Frank did the same and immediately was hit with a flood of nostalgia as he could remember as it was yesterday the last time he’d had this. A family trip with his mother, Diane and Walter to a resort not far from here actually.

“Oh God.” Fliss’ voice was muffled and Frank turned to see her chewing and he laughed “You weren’t wrong about it being like leather.”

“It’s like taffy, but not.” He shrugged and with that he raised the pickle and took a huge crunch, grinning at her as he chewed. She gave a laugh again, shaking her head.

“That’s disgusting.”

“C’mere baby.” His voice was muffled on account his mouth was full of pickle, as he bent towards her and she laughed harder, shoving him away. He swallowed in between his chuckles, and pressed a kiss to the side of her head as they made their way over to where the majority of the crowd had gathered awaiting the fireworks.

They didn’t bother trying to push to the front, fireworks went up after all, and soon enough the music grew louder and someone spoke over the PA welcoming them all to the weekly fire work display. Leaving Fliss for a second to dispose of their empty snow containers in a nearby trash can, Frank returned and wrapped her arms around her from behind, pulling her back to his chest, dropping another soft kiss to her cheek. She smiled and leaned against him, happy for him to hold her and then the crowd let out a gasp as the first rocket flew into the air and burst into a huge bloom of gold and red.

The fireworks were spectacular. Screaming rockets, silent ones, crackling ones, ones that were colourful, ones less so, but what Frank was watching most of the time was Fliss’ face. Her mouth stayed in a constant smile for the full fifteen minute display, her eyes wide, the bright explosions reflected in those deep brown orbs as she followed the trail of lights against the clear, starry sky. The last time they’d all seen fireworks was a display held on the beach for the fourth of July last year, but Fliss was staring at them like she hadn’t seen any for years. Frank couldn’t be sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion she was lost in the romance of the situation, the pair of them being alone, on a cold evening, wrapped up surrounded by snow. With a smile he kissed her cheek again and tuned his attention back to the sky as the finale ramped up in a cacophony of colour, explosions and yells of awe from kids and adults alike in the crowd.

“Enjoy that?” Frank’s nose nuzzled at the spot behind Fliss’ ear and she smiled, tilting her head to look at him.

“Yeah, did you?”

“Absolutely.” He beamed. “It was awesome.”

“Took me back a few years” she grinned, turning to face him. “You ever heard of Bonfire Night in the UK?”

“Remember, remember the fifth of November.” He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I think the last firework display I saw whilst wrapped up against the cold was Bonfire Night in 2011.” She mused. “Stanley Park in Liverpool. No snow though, just pissing down rain.” She took a deep breath “There’s just something magical about being all wrapped up whilst watching them.”

Frank smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Anything else you wanna do?”

“Hot cider.” She nodded, and Frank grinned, his arm round her shoulder as they made their way back towards the drinks cabin.

An hour or so later, the little bar seemed to fill up almost all at once and both of them decided to call it a night. As they wandered back to the car, Frank gently kissed Fliss’ cheek as his arm curled around her shoulder and she smiled at him.

“You’ve been kissing me a lot tonight, Sailor.”

“I don’t ever intend on stopping.”

“Even when we’re married? I mean, isn’t that when all the romance is supposed to go to shit?”

“Only if you marry an asshole.” Frank spoke without thinking and then let out a little groan. “Fliss, I didn’t mean…”

“I know.” She said gently “I know you didn’t. Don’t worry.”

Frank bit his lip, cursing himself as they continued towards the car, before he sighed and shook his head. “You know, I’ll always be in awe of how you just deal with it, you know. Everything you went through and you came out the other side…and now…” "It wasn’t easy.” Fliss replied after a second or two, her hand gently playing with Frank's as his arm was draped over her shoulder. "Sometimes I don’t know how I did it. But, I do know one thing though." "What's that?" "I never thought I'd trust someone again enough to be…well, intimate with them, let alone fall completely and utterly head over heels in love." She took a deep breath before she leaned into Frank as his arm tightened around her. “And then you showed up that day with Mary and broke down every wall I'd put up, Adler. And you did it so damned quickly. I mean I don’t know why but there was something about you that made me know I could trust you straight away. And...oh I'm rambling on as usual." She waved a hand and Frank took a deep breath, pulling her closer. "It was the same for me you know.” He told her and she glanced up at him as they walked. "How so?" "The way Mary hugged you, the first time she met you. She’s never been that open with people. As we drove away that day she turned to me and said 'you like her'. Simple statement but I did. She was right." Frank looked ahead as they rounded the corner to the parking lot "I knew from our first kiss on that boat that this was it for me. Everything I had no idea I needed and then some in this tiny little red-headed fire cracker." Fliss laughed and nudged him slightly and he grinned. "And you still gave me a chance. I mean there was the whole thing with Bonnie." Frank took a deep breath. "And I wasn't the easiest person to be around when the court case was going on." "No, you weren't." Fliss agreed. “But you were going through a tough time. Even if I hadn't had feelings for you that way, I'd have been by your side regardless. You know, that right?" Frank stopped by the side of their rented car and turned to face her, taking both her hands in his "Yeah, I do. Because, well, because you’re fucking amazing. You're just the most gorgeous person inside and out, Lissy, and every damned day I wake up next to you and wonder how I got so fucking lucky." "Frank!" Fliss gave a little sniff as her eyes filled with tears and he smiled, his hand gently cupping her face as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, deep and loaded with feeling, Fliss' hands dropping to his waist, her fingers curling around the cold material of his jacket as she let herself go, losing herself in the romance of the moment as they stood in the parking lot at the base of the mountain, surrounded by snow. When they finally broke apart, Frank pressed his forehead to hers, smiling softly. "Come on, let’s go before we freeze to death." Fliss laughed, "Not much chance of that with you to keep me warm." Frank narrowed his eyes. "Is that a fat joke?" At that she laughed harder. “Absolutely not." Her hands squeezed his slim hips and she blinked up at him, knowing just how sensitive he was getting to the fact that, thanks to him now being effectively behind a desk all day, he was having to work harder at keeping in shape. He'd picked up running at the start of the year and was now also using the weights he had in the workshop area of the garage to keep himself as toned as he could. But to Fliss it didn't matter a jot. He was perfect to her. "But just so you know, if you do put on weight, it just means there's more of you for me to love."

******

Once back home they debated hitting the hot tub for an hour but they were both tired from the early start so settled instead for a cozy drink in front of the fire in the living room. After checking in at home, speaking to Verity and Mary, Verity assuring them that both kids were fine, Fliss headed for a shower as Frank checked a few emails from work on his phone as he lay on the bed. When she walked back into the room he hopped up, gave her another deep kiss before he headed off, jumping a little as she slapped his ass as he passed. He gave her a smirk over his shoulder as he wandered barefoot down the hall and into the bathroom.

Once showered he dressed in a pair of grey sweats and a plain white t-shirt before he headed into the living room to find Fliss in a pair of dark green plaid flannel sleep pants and a hooded top, her hair piled on top of her head as she sat in front of the fire, a glass of red win in her hand, simply watching the flames.

“You okay, honey?” he asked and she turned to look up at him, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s just been a while before I sat in front of a fire in the evening.” She said as he dropped a hand to the back of her head. She pat the rug besides him and grinned “Pull up a seat, Sailor.”

“Let me grab a drink and I’ll be with you.”

“Way ahead of you, Francis.” With a grin she gestured to the table behind her and Frank chuckled as he saw the bottle of red wine perched in the middle along with an empty glass waiting for him. He poured himself a helping, topped her glass up and then with a little groan he settled onto the floor, his back resting against the coffee table, legs spread to allow Fliss to shuffle back against him, her chest resting against his back.

“You had a good evening?” She asked, turning her face to look at him.

“The best, thank you.” He smiled, kissing her softly. With a contented sigh she leaned her head back against his shoulder.

“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I was with you, how could I not?” Frank’s hand traced up the outside of her arm, lips brushing the top of her head as she leaned back a little more, her back resting fully against his chest. They sat in silence for a little while, enjoying the relative peace that wasn’t so forthcoming at home with two kids and busy jobs. The last few days had been particularly manic, Fliss pushing full steam ahead with the plans for the expansion had meant they’d had a few late evening consultations with Bill and the architect Steve had recommended as they discussed the best options. Then there had been Tuesday, when Fliss had called him in a flap as her jeep had broken down outside the store for the third time in as many weeks.

“Have you decided about your car yet?” Frank asked what was on his mind and Fliss shook her head.

“No.” She sighed “Can you not fix her?”

“I keep fixing her.” He replied “But, it’s only a matter of time before the damned thing gives up for good. Why don’t you look at one of the Audi’s you like? We don’t need two huge cars. I got the truck so...”

“Maybe. I want to get the wedding paid for first.”

“We don’t have much left to pay.” Frank reasoned. “The Banquet tent and food trucks are settled up. We just have the bar and the entertainment to sort really.”

“Decorations, dance floor hire, oh, and photographer.” Fliss mused “Although Bonnie said her sister’s husband is a pretty good amateur one. I might ask her for his number.”

“Sounds good.” Frank dropped another kiss to her head.

“Oh, and we should probably sort the invitations.”

“Yeah, that…” Frank chuckled, “that’s pretty key I suppose.”

“I thought…” Fliss tipped her head to face him, “I thought it would be nice if we wrote the invitations from Mary and Alex. You know, like it’s usually Mrs and Mrs Parents-Of-The-Bride request your presence bla bla bla…I’d like to ask Mary to suggest something.”

Frank smiled, his head cocking to one side slightly. “I think she’ll love that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, shifting so he could take another sip of his wine, which was exceptionally good and going down pretty damned well. “She’s as excited about the wedding as we are. Probably a little more actually.”

“Speak for yourself.” Fliss snorted, swallowing a mouthful of her drink “I can’t wait.”

“I didn’t mean that.” Frank rolled his eyes as Fliss laughed and she gently titled herd head round to look at him and reached up, scratching her nails of her left hand into his beard.

“I know Sailor, keep your hair on.”

“You know I can’t wait to make you Mrs Adler.” Frank told her, dropping his head to catch her lips in a soft kiss. Fliss smiled as he pressed his head to hers, their noses bumping slightly before she moved and settled back into the position she had been in before, the back of her head once more resting against Frank’s chest.

“You know, I have a funny feeling Dad’s gonna give us a check towards it anyway.” She took a deep breath “He paid for Steve’s wedding, well, half. Sian’s parents paid the other.”

Frank shifted a little, “You think?”

Fliss shrugged “I don’t know. He’s never given anything to one of us and not the other so. He didn’t give a penny towards…” she trailed off and took a deep breath.

“That’s probably because you were marrying a cunt.” Frank shrugged and Fliss scoffed, shaking her head before she let out a little sigh and then Frank saw her shoulders sag a little, one hand running round the top of her wine glass as the other clutched the stem.

“I sometimes wonder how I got it so wrong you know? Like how I ever fell for him in the first place.”

“Hey.” Frank gently pulled her to him a little more, “Don’t do this, not tonight. None of that was your fault.”

“I know, but…”

“No buts, Lissy.” Frank shook his head, his tone a little stern. “He was an abusive piece of shit. Don’t go there, not tonight.”

Her head dropped and Frank took a deep breath, before he reached out and gently plucked the wine glass from her hand, setting it on the coffee table he was leaning against along with his own.

“Baby, look at me.” He instructed gently. After a seconds pause she knelt up and turned around, sitting back on her heels as she looked at him, large brown eyes dancing in the firelight, full of a melancholy that wasn’t quite sadness, but still enough to tear his gut apart at the fact she could still be so self-doubting. “Sorry I snapped and I’m sorry for bringing him up, again.” Frank looked at her, his hand gently brushing her hair back off her face. “I didn’t mean to.”

She looked at him for a second before she shuffled forwards a little and Frank dropped his legs flat so she could straddle his thighs, his large hands falling to her hips as she gently smoothed her hands up his ribbed T-shirt, her eyes following her fingers.

“You know, it’s kinda funny really” she spoke softly, her fingers still trailing his chest.

“What is?”

“Life, when you think about it. I mean, what I went through was shitty. What happened to you and Mary, you know with Diane was shitty.” Fliss took a deep breath, her hands pausing, palms flattening over his pecs. “But if it hadn’t happened, we would never have met. We’d never have had Alex.”

“True.” Frank breathed out as her eyes flicked up and locked onto his as he gave a small smile. “Is this where you tell me it was fate?”

“Maybe.” Fliss shrugged, before she raised an eyebrow. “Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like.”

“Lemony Snicket?” Frank chuckled his question and Fliss grinned, nodding.

“Mary was reading it the other day.”

“Well I’m glad to know I’m one of the things you do like” Frank arched an eyebrow. “Okay, if we’re dropping quotes, how about this one. Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.”

Fliss pondered for a second, shrugging. “I like it but, no idea who said it.”

“Marcus Aurelius.” Frank informed her.

“Ok, Professor.” she sassed, her hands now curling over his shoulders, and Frank laughed, “Now tell me who said this. You often meet your fate on the road you take to avoid it.”

“Oooh.” Frank pondered, “That almost sounds Shakespearean?”

“Close.” Fliss grinned “Goldie Hawn”

“Fahk off!” Frank tipped his head back, chest vibrating as his familiar laughter filled the room and Fliss snickered a little bit. He looked back at his girl as his chuckles subsided, saying nothing for a moment, simply studying her pretty face. Her eyes were full of warmth as she curled her hands round his shoulders before one moved to the back of his neck, her nails gently grazing at the skin below his hair line. He gave a sigh, his mouth curling up into a soft smile “I love you so fahkin much Cowgirl.”

“Love you too, Sailor.” She replied, her voice quiet, before she shuffled even closer, her head dipping to his.

The kiss was soft, gentle, Frank’s hands moving to her back, under the hoody she was wearing, splaying against her skin as he held her close to him. He felt Fliss shift a little, her hands dancing downwards, gripping the hem of his Tee. He moved back slightly, allowing her to pull it off, mimicking her actions by dragging her top over her head, along with the camisole she had on under it, before he gently lay her down on the rug in front of the fire place. He shimmied out of his sweats, before he dragged Fliss’ pyjama pants down her legs, leaving them both completely naked, and he gently grasped her right ankle in his hand. He kissed his way up her smooth leg, his mouth hot and wet, short beard scratching against her skin. He continued mapping his way up her body with his mouth, and when he reached her breasts, Fliss arched her back, letting out a soft groan as his mouth gently sucked on one nipple, his hand tweaking at the other.

“Look at you.” He whispered gently against her skin as his tongue continued teasing her, worshipping her with his mouth, the way she deserved. His beautiful Lissy, his girl, so fucking precious it was beyond comprehension to him how anyone could have ever wanted to hurt her. The mere thought was abhorrent and he screwed his eyes up as he felt the tears rushing forwards as he fought the image from his head, and he swallowed, his mouth pausing a little against her breast as he took a shuddering breath.

“Frankie.” She whispered his name, and he opened his eyes to look up at her, her hands moving to cup his face and he pushed himself upwards, as his lips crashed to hers in a desperate, needy kiss. His tongue traced the inside of her mouth as her hands tangled in his hair and she let out a little whimper, tipping her hips up to meet his and the feel of her press against him made him groan, breaking the kiss. Her head fell back, bearing her neck to him and Frank shifted, taking his weight on his palms, caging her between his arms and legs as he pressed soft kisses up her throat.

Fliss felt the warmth in her belly mounting, that familiar ache between her legs was becoming more and more intense, to the point it was almost unbearable. She needed relief, and she wasn’t above begging. “Please, Frank,” she croaked out, her breath coming in deep, ragged pants as her hands dug into his broad back, “I need you.”

“Oh, baby, you got me. Always.” Frank’s breath was hot on her ear, as he gave that spot on her neck a little nip, dropping to his elbows. His hands snaked up both her arms pulling them from round his back, the points where her nails had been biting into his skin still stinging slightly. He laced his fingers with hers, pressing her hands down at either side of her head as he moved, Fliss shifting underneath him and with a slow, deliberate roll of his hips he sank into her, his head dropping slightly as she fluttered around him, the sound she made almost enough to make him blow there and then.

The feeling of relief at having him inside her caused Fliss’ chest to hitch and her eyes closed momentarily, before she took a shuddering breath as Frank began to slowly roll his hips against hers, each thrust deep, measured, deliberate as he dragged himself against languidly in and out of her. She opened her eyes to see him watching her face intently as her eyes locked onto his, the pupils of those baby blues she loved were blown with desire.

“Frank, you feel so good,” she moaned and he let out a groan of his own at her words, keeping his movements steady, almost leisurely as he continued to watch, her mouth slackening, breathing quickening as he knew she was approaching her peak. When her orgasm rolled over her, she gave a loud cry and melted underneath him, her nails digging into the skin beneath his knuckles as he picked up the pace, rutting into her a little faster, desperate for his own relief. It didn’t take him long at all, and he felt his stomach tightening and with a hiss and a loud “Fahk” he came with a final deep thrust, his fingers tightening around hers before he collapsed forward, burying his head against her neck.

A quiet bliss, surrounded them like a bubble, keeping them safe from the world, as the room was silent bar the sound of their deep breathing and the crackling of fire as they lay tangled with one another. Fliss’ extracted her hands from his to gently rake one through the back of his hair, the other trailed lightly over the back of his shoulder blades and Frank gave a soft hum of contentment, his eyes closing as they lay still, neither of them wanting to move. Fliss pressed a soft kiss to his warm, clammy forehead and Frank rolled over onto his back with a little sigh, pulling her with him so that she was draped over his chest as he lay between her and the coffee table.

“Can we just stay here?” Fliss asked quietly, and Frank glanced down at her as she pressed her cheek to his chest.

“Whatever you want, Honey.” He agreed, his head looking around before he spotted the blanket on the sofa “Just sit up a moment.”

“Frank!” she whined and he laughed, pushing himself up and jostling her off his chest. “Asshole.”

“I just loved on you well, in front of the fire, and that’s the thanks I get?” Frank hopped up. “Being called an asshole?”

Fliss grinned as she propped herself up on her elbow and watched him, scanning up his legs and strong thighs, taking in his bare ass before she followed his back muscles to those broad shoulders which rippled slightly as he reached over to grab the tartan throw. He turned back to face her and she grinned as his eyes blatantly roved over her in the same way as she lay side on, completely naked, her hair falling over her shoulders.

“You should look like that all the time.” He remarked as he dropped back down and gently wrapped them both in the blanket. “Freshly fucked and naked.”

“Yeah, not so easy when you’ve got a 10 year old and a 7 month old to look after.” She chuckled as she lay her head on his chest. His hand gently carded through her hair and he sighed.

“True.” he looked down at her as she glanced up at him, her chin resting on his chest “But we got a coupla days without them. Maybe I’ll just keep you like this for the duration.”

“Fine by me Sailor. There’s only one slight problem.”

“What’s that?”

“You keep me here, no Ben and Jerry’s on Saturday.”

“That is a dilemma indeed.” Frank mused, “Okay, maybe Saturday I’ll let you out.”

“Good to know where I feature on your list of priorities.” Fliss scoffed and Frank chuckled.

“You can have a lot of fun with ice cream cowgirl.” He smirked, dropping a kiss to her head.

***** Frank woke the next morning feeling thoroughly relaxed. He stretched a little where he was lay on his stomach, arms folded under his pillow and raised his head, turning to look at Fliss. She was lay on her back, facing towards him, one arm bent by her head, the other across her chest. She looked so peaceful, her mouth open just a smidge, hair splaying over the pillow. He shifted onto his side, and moved closer to her, pressing a soft kiss to forehead, trailing his lips down her nose to her mouth.

She gave a little sigh, her eyelids fluttering as he kissed her again and he felt her smile, lazily against his mouth.

“Morning, Honey.” He said gently and she gave a little hum of contentment, her sleepy eyes opening to look at him.

“Morning, handsome.” She smiled as he pushed himself up a little to give her a deep kiss, hovering the top half of his body over her slightly. The kiss became soft touches, which led to more urgent touches, and soon he was buried inside of her, his movements lazy as he made love to her, their bodies pressed together as close as could be.

It set the tone for the remainder of the morning, nothing urgent or pressing to do. The time was theirs and theirs alone. After showers they ate breakfast and checked in with the kids before they bundled up and took a short walk into the little town centre, taking a peek in the shops, making a few purchases before they had lunch and then headed back to their cottage. Frank walked up the steps on the porch to unlock the door, and he had just turned round to look at Fliss when he was hit square on the chest with a snowball. He paused, watching as the icy glob slid down the front of his coat and he glanced up to see Fliss stood at the bottom of the steps, laughing.

“Good shot.” He arched an eyebrow.

“Not really, I was aiming for your face.” she tipped her head back, laughing harder as he blinked.

“My face.” he blinked as she nodded. “Oh, Sweetheart, you’re gonna be sorry!”

Her laughter died down as he began to stalk towards her, his pace slow and she stepped back a little before she gave a playful shriek and set off running as best she could in the deep snowfall. Frank dipped down, grabbing a handful of the snow which he rolled into a ball and sent it flying where it hit her right in between her shoulder blades. She screamed, punctuated by more laughter as she bent down and scooped up some more, turning to fling it at him. Frank raised his arm to block it and it exploded on the sleeve of his jacket, and at that he shot forward. She began to back away and just as he reached her she stumbled and flailed backwards. Frank caught her, and pitched them round, the momentum sending them both crashing into the soft snow, Fliss landing with a thud on top of him.

The pair of them were laughing that hard, neither could breathe properly, but Frank somehow managed to gain enough control to grab a scoop of the powdery snow and shove it straight down the back of her coat.

“Oh my god, you asshole!” she shrieked as she felt the cold liquid dribble down her back. “Fuck, shit!”

“I warned you yesterday about startin’ things you can’t finish!” he laughed as she shook her head, shivering.

“Well, I like to live dangerously.” Her laughter subsided and she bent down to give him a soft kiss, her cold, slightly red nose brushing against his. “Ever had sex in the snow?”

He laughed. “Can’t say I have, although I’m not sure I’d be able to. It’s that cold my balls have retreated into my stomach.”

She broke into another fit of giggles before Frank pushed himself up onto his elbows, jolting her slightly and together they got to their feet and headed inside to warm up. After a change into dry clothes and a hot chocolate each, Frank went out to set the car running so it would be warm for their grip out to New Hampshire. Fliss packed a bags with snacks for the trip and at little after three in the afternoon they set off.

There was plenty to see on the way, the landscape was breath-taking, Fliss’ eyes bright as she took it all in, Frank smiling at the joy on her face. About an hour into the journey, Frank felt Fliss’ eyes watching his profile as he drove so he arched an eyebrow slightly, sneaking a glance at her.

"What?"

"Nothing just,” she reached out to gently twine her hand in his hair, “never noticed before but you're getting a few grey-" "Fucking fuck you." He shot, jerking his head away from her hands as she laughed, her head falling back against the head rest of the seat. "So angry, Adler." "Angry Adler?" Frank arched an eyebrow. “Sounds like some kind of poisonous snake." "You got a snake but it aint poisonous." Fliss grinned and Frank snorted. "Flattery will not detract from the fact you just called me old." "That’s not what I said." Fliss shook her head. "I merely commented on the fact your hair is...: "Going grey, ergo pertaining to the fact I'm getting old!" Fliss shrugged. “I’m kinda down for the silver fox look." "Silver fox?" Frank laughed, looking at her. "That what I am?" "Not yet." Fliss shrugged before she grinned and turned to him. “At the moment you're just a D-B DILF" Frank let out a little laugh, shaking his head. "Let me guess. A Dirty Boat Daddy you like to fuck?" "Damned straight" Fliss smirked, her fingers lacing through his.

Once they arrived they followed the direction from the parking attendant and climbed out, wrapping themselves up before Frank took Fliss’ hand and they headed over to join the queue for their time slot.

“Wow.” Frank heard Fliss breathe out as she got a look at the huge structure that loomed in front of them. Frank smiled, it had been years and years since he’d been here.

“Wait till it goes dark.” He smiled, “It’s something else.”

It didn’t take them too long to get inside, and Frank watched Fliss eyes grow wide with awe as she spotted the huge towers which were dripping with molten-looking ice as they walked through the huge cavernous opening. As per Jake’s recommendation they headed straight for the slide. The line to get on was already huge, but both of them were adamant they wanted to go on it so they waited patiently, Frank chatting to Fliss and giving her a little bit of factual history about how the castles were made. Eventually they reached the front of the line some forty minutes later, and the attendant there asked if they wanted to go down together, which of course they did. Frank hopped down first, Fliss settling between his legs and he gripped her hips, leaning forward.

“Ready?”

“Just push off already, Sailor!” she laughed, and with a snort he sent them sliding down the glassy sheet of ice. Fliss laughed as they sped down the chute, the twists and turns jolting them slightly. It wasn’t as smooth as he expected and when they hit a particularly bout of bumpy rivets, Fliss letting out a squeal, Frank was glad he had a padded coat under his ass or his tail bone would have been protesting. Their slide was over after little more than thirty seconds, and whilst it might have been a ridiculous amount of time to queue for half a minute or so of fun, Frank had to admit as they slowed to a stop at the end, that sliding through an Ice Castle with his girl in front of him, was a pretty awesome experience that he’d queue for all over again.

Together they made their way off to the side and had just set off to explore when suddenly the Castle lit up inside with thousands of LED coloured lights. Fliss mouth dropped open as the opening bars to ‘Let It Go’ from Frozen started to play and the lights followed some form of choreographed routine to the music. They stopped to watch, just like everyone else seemed to have done and when it was over, most people started to clap and cheer.

“Does that happen again?” Fliss looked at Frank as they began to walk through to a smaller room. “The light show?”

“I think so.” He nodded. “From what I remember it does it periodically.”

As they walked through the Castle exploring, it felt like around every corner there were hidden surprises. They found ice sculptures of animals and birds, tunnels which led into smaller caverns with spectacular icicle details hanging above from the ceilings, ice thrones, glowing ice orbs and even a fountain. Fliss took as many photos as she could, even accosting some random guy to take a shot of them together in one of the smaller rooms they found.

After an hour or so they were confident they’d seen everything there was to see so they made their way back to the entrance, Fliss’ arm looped through Frank’s as they strolled over to one of the temporary wooden shacks set up which was serving hot drinks and snacks. They both took a hot cider each and headed to a little table, sitting down.

“The kids would love it in there.” Fliss smiled, taking a sip.

“I was just thinking that.” Frank nodded. “I’m definitely sold on a family winter weekend away.”

“Maybe next year.” She mused. “I mean we can’t this year, what with the wedding and then Disney.”

“Yeah, yeah we do.” Frank smiled. A week to Disney with the kids was what they had settled on as a sort of honeymoon, but post that he had a little something else up his sleeve, something that she was going to have no idea about until it was time for them to go.

“I can’t wait to see Mary’s face when we tell her we’re all going to the house of the mouse.” She grinned

“Yeah, she’ll be almost as excited as you.” Frank raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I’m a huge kid at heart.”

“No shit.” He replied and she laughed.

“Oh don’t act like you aint. I heard you giggling away in there when we were on that slide.”

“Well…” He leaned over the table, smiling slightly. “You bring out my inner child, what can I say?”

Fliss grinned and leaned over to give him a soft kiss before she pulled back and smiled, giving a sigh. “Suppose we should head back, it’s getting a little late.”

Frank was loathe to concede she was right. They finished their drinks and headed back to the car, Fliss taking a fond look back at the Ice Castle before climbing into the car. By the time they got back, the pair of them were starving, so the hot tub went another night without use as they made a very good sized dent into the Hamper that Steve had sent them. Once they’d drunk another few glasses of wine they collapsed into bed with full bellies, snuggled together, falling into a comfortable and deep sleep.

***** Fliss woke the next morning before Frank and so she gently kissed his cheek, slipped from the sheets and pulled his hoody over her top as it was a little chilly. She turned up the thermostat and then headed into the kitchen to make a coffee before she settled in the little living room with her book. But she couldn’t concentrate. Her mind was wandering to the kids and she was feeling a little lost now without them. She hadn’t been apart from Alex for more than a night before, and she couldn’t help but miss him, and Mary too.

With a deep sigh she turned the TV on, flicking through the channels and little over half an hour later, Frank padded in, his hair all over the place as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

“You’re up early.” He said, flopping down next to her, giving her a quick peck.

“I know.” She shrugged. “Think I’m just used to being up early with the kids.” Frank yawned, stretching his legs out, feet resting on the edge of the coffee table as Fliss nestled into him. “Is it wrong that I miss them?”

“No.” Frank gently rubbed his hand up her arm as she gave a little sniffle, pressing her face into his t-shirt. “I miss them being here too. Don’t get upset, Honey.”

“I’m sorry, this is pathetic.”

“It’s not. But uou know what is?” Frank looked down at her, wiping her tears gently. “How excited this thirty-nine year old is about going to an ice cream factory.” At that Fliss spluttered a soft laugh and Frank smiled. “The kids will be fine, Alex is too young to even know we’re gone and, well, Mary won’t care. Not with your mom, dad and Steve fussing over her.”

“I know.”

“You know I’m right or that I’m pathetic?”

“Both.” She smiled up at him and Frank gave a little snort.

After a lazy breakfast they headed into town again for another little walk, Frank skipping lunch so he could eat as much ice cream as humanly possible. Then they made the short drive to Waterbury, the brightly coloured Ice Cream factory making Frank grin like a child as they pulled into a parking space.

“You now, this is basically my childhood dream.” He grinned at Fliss as they climbed out of the car and she rolled her eyes, chuckling to herself.

“Low aspirations there, Sailor!”

He shrugged and they headed inside, Fliss handing her reservation number over to the assistant and they were directed down to the lobby. As they walked, they took in the artwork that adorned the walls detailing the history of the company, which made for an interesting browse. But as soon as they crossed the threshold of the lobby, it was the smell that got them both. It was sweet, notes of vanilla and sugar making them both smile. Whilst they waited in line for their tour to start, they scanned the flavor map that was on the wall, both pointing at various places, and then a bell rang.

“Good afternoon!” A cheery voice spoke and they both turned to the front to see a man stood on a little box, seemingly having appeared from nowhere. “My name is Ben, yes, that is my real name but sadly, no, I’m not the Ben.” A few chuckles rang out. “I’m merely a tour-guide, your tour-guide for the next hour or so in fact. But, before we start I need to tell you a couple of the usual boring housekeeping rules…”

Ben, not the Ben, ran through the usual emergency protocols and stuff, before he clapped his hands together and smiled.

“So, the first stop is the theatre room where you’ll watch a short video on the creation and mission of Ben & Jerry's. No one does ice cream better than BJ. And, as I’m sure most of you will know, BJs come in all sorts of flavours and rarely fail to satisfy.”

At that Frank gave a snort along with a couple of other adults on the tour at the innuendo and Fliss nudged him, grinning at his dirty mind.

“We have a worldwide reputation for excellence, quality, and flavors that are, quite frankly, unparalleled by any other ice cream maker in the world.” The tour guide continued. “Right here, in the town of Waterbury, the Ben & Jerry's factory has been operating since 1985 and it continues to create just as many delicious ice cream flavors as it did when it first opened.” He smiled “Right, so if you would follow me, I’ll take you through. The film is only about five minutes long or so but quality over quantity and after that then the fun really begins.”

A door to their right swung open and the group headed inside, Frank and Fliss taking seats at the back. The lights dimmed and a colourful cartoon began to show, running over the history of the company. Frank, being an avid fan, already knew most of it but to Fliss it was a nice bit of background information.

The little film finished and the lights flicked on again and Ben once more appeared at the front.

“So, now you have the scoop on Ben & Jerry’s…” He began and a few people, including Frank, groaned at the pun and the man held up an apologetic hand. “Yes, I know and I’m sorry to say you’re gonna hear more awful puns as we go along. In fact my legen-dairy puns are actively cone-doned here.”

Frank let out a chuckle as did Fliss.

“Ok, without further ado, let’s go!” The tour guide smiled.

Following in the middle of the group, Frank and Fliss were led into the main factory area where they were able to peer through a glass overlook and look down on the operation below. The ice cream-making process was ongoing and the tour guide began to identify various points of the production process. Frank watched the workers down below, operating the various pieces of equipment, fascinated by it all. They were there for about twenty minutes or so as the manufacturing process was explained, and then they were led to the room which was the one Frank was dying to see- The Flavour-Building room.

Simply put, he was in an ice-cream lover’s heaven. As they walked around they soaked in all the information about where they got the ideas from, the Public engagement and market research process and how they offered opportunities for people to become testers, which Frank made a note of vowing to put in his application. They were then given a sample of a new flavour that hadn’t yet been released, a banana and chocolate one that Fliss pulled a face at but Frank really liked. Neither could deny, however, that there was something truly special about actually trying the ice cream straight from the source. Whilst the pints you could get from the store were incredible, trying fresh ice cream from the factory was nothing short of perfection.

“I’m afraid, Ladies and Gents that we are at the end of the tour. Short, and sweet, yes, pun very much intended, but whilst the guided tour ends here, your Ben & Jerry’s experience doesn’t have to.” Ben grinned. “Our gift-shop should provide you with ample opportunity to browse and buy any souvenirs, and then, why not head down to our Flavor Graveyard to mourn the passing of our dearly de-pinted ice cream flavors. You can also take a vote on your way out as to which one of our offered de-pinted flavours you would like to resurrect.”

After thanking him on their way out of the room, Frank and Fliss wandered round the gift shop and bought a couple of things, and then made their way back outside into the bitter air, walking over to the graveyard. They chuckled at a few of the tomb stones, Fliss pointing out that some of them sounded pretty nice, until she stopped dead at one and cocked her head to one side.

“Peanut Butter and Jelly. Peanut Butter Ice Cream with Peanut Butter Bits and Strawberry Jelly Swirl1 1989-1990” she read and Frank gave a groan of nostalgia as she continued to read the epitaph underneath “An unbeatable duo! Yet somehow it managed to flop in a cone, so we stuck to the sammich.”

“God I loved that as a kid!” Frank sighed. “Dad used to always come home with a pint of it on a Friday. It was gone by Saturday morning. Me and Diane used to fight him for it.” He took a deep breath before nodding firmly. “That’s the one I’m voting to have resurrected. You also need to vote for it.”

“Isn’t voting supposed to be done in secret?” Fliss looked at him as he dropped his arm round her shoulder and they made their way back towards the main area of the buildings.

“True, but I won’t tell if you won’t.” He grinned. “Now, can we go and eat some ice cream? That mouthful in there was nowhere near enough to satisfy me.”

“Whatever you want, Sailor.” She chuckled as she leaned into him a little, smiling. “Whatever you want.”

*****

Whatever he wanted turned out to be about twenty bucks worth of ice cream sundaes complete with every topping imaginable, so by the time they walked back to the cottage after a few drinks in one of the local breweries, Frank was well and truly ready to fat float in the tub thanks to the combination of beer and ice cream in his stomach.

They called back home, Fliss smiling as Alex sat on Bill’s knee, making a grabbing hand at the screen of the phone, Mary chatting away telling them all about how Steve had taken her, Charlie and Joel out to the Zoo for the day. By the time they were done it was pushing seven pm so they both changed, Fliss heading out to the tub with the fluffy guest towels, whilst Frank followed a little while later with the bottle of champagne that had been in the fridge along with a couple of beers for himself. He popped the cork, poured Fliss a glass and then placed the bottle down by the side of the tub next to his spare beers, quipping that given the temperature outside he knew there was no need for an ice bucket.

They sat and watched the moonlight reflecting off the snow of the mountain back drop, simply drinking and chatting, and before they knew it an hour had passed and they had somehow gotten onto the subject of that year’s elections, having seen the first drabbles of news about the rumoured Democrat candidates. When Fliss commented to Frank that she had a horrible suspicion Trump would get re-elected, Frank groaned and slid under the water, pretending to drown himself. When he emerged, he shook his head in the manner of a dog and Fliss chuckled.

“So, if you were president what would be the first thing you'd do, Sailor?” she asked, stretching out her legs along the bench she was sat on, her feet laying flat just to the side of Frank’s right thigh.

“Make being Donald Trump a crime punishable by death.” Frank shot back and Fliss let out a loud laugh.

“That's a little over the top.”

“So is his tan.” Frank shrugged and Fliss snorted again. “What about you?”

Fliss pondered “I’d make three day weekends the law.”

At that Frank looked at her, scoffing. “You work for yourself, you could have a three day weekend if you wanted one.”

“But I don’t.”

“So why would you make it the law then?” he laughed.

“Because I’m thinking of other people.”

“Socialism.” Frank nodded, “Good call.”

Fliss grinned. “And I’d also make it a legal requirement for you to be Professor Adler more often.”

“Assistant Professor.”

“Details.” Fliss waved her hand.

“And what do you mean, more often?” He cocked his head to one side “I’ve never been a Professor in the entire time you’ve known me.”

“You talk like one.”

“No I don’t”

“You so do.” Fliss smirked. “When you’re helping Mary with her homework, debates, the other day on the flight over…”

“Okay, maybe some times, but not much.”

“You should do it more. It’s kinda hot.”

"Is this some kind of strange authority kink? You know, to go along with the grease monkey one?"

Fliss let out a groan "Professor Adler in a shirt with rolled up sleeves and dirty arms and face..." she bit her lip and Frank let out a loud snort as he shook his head.

"You have a problem."

"Yeah, a big one. In that now I can't get that fucking image out of my head.” She cocked her head to one side as Frank laughed. “Hey, did you ever fuck any of your students? You know, favours for extra credit?"

Frank choked on the mouthful of beer he had just taken. "You’re a dick"

"I'll take that as a no then."

"No I didn't. Because that would have been a gross abuse of power."

“So not because you didn’t want to?”

“Fucking hell, Fliss!” he shook his head, before he smirked "I might have had you been one of them. Especially if your mouth was a smart back then as it is now."

"You've never complained about my smart mouth before." She teased.

"That's because you put it to good use." Frank looked at her, his eyes darkening "Had you used it to sass me like you do, in one of my lectures, I'd have been pissed"

"How pissed?" She asked, her leg dropping off the ledge she was sat on, foot trailing up the inside of his calf.

"Seriously pissed."

"Yeah?" Her foot stopped at his thigh and his hand reached under the water, gently grabbing her ankle. He shifted a little, the tightness in his swim-shorts a good indication about how he was finding this much more of a turn on than he should, and levelled her with a stern look. He saw her chest hitch a little and he arched an eyebrow.

"You're in danger of finding out if you carry on." He all but growled.

Fliss bit her lip before she shifted and pulled her leg from his grasp before she moved over the tub, glass in her hand as she straddled him. "Know what I am very good at finishing?"

"What?" Frank swallowed, the feel of her in his lap was doing nothing to help his little situation so to speak.

"Champagne." She smirked, raising the glass to her lips as she tossed the rest of the white down her throat. Frank let out a groan of a chuckle as she laughed, gently kissing his cheek. "Sadly, that was the last of it. Shall I open that final bottle of red wine?”

"Sure, I'm all gassed out from beer." Frank nodded, draining his bottle. “I’ll get it, sweetheart.”

"Its fine. I need to pee anyway.” Fliss moved to stand up, giving a little squeal, ducking back down under the water. “Fuck its cold."

"Kinda happened when you're in a mountain resort surrounded by snow."

"Asshole" she rolled her eyes before she stood up again, giving Frank an eyeful of the front of her body. Her arms and shoulders were ridiculously defined thanks to her riding and physical job, her large breasts were swelling over the top of the green bikini top she was wearing which sported a large knot at the front, the bottoms slung low on her hips as the decorative buckle sat over her reasonably flat but soft stomach, the faded, silvery stretch marks which were just about visible as they glistened with water, a reminder of how she'd carried, given birth and nurtured his son.

She was a marvel, and as he looked her up and down she flushed a little, the way she always did when he was blatantly ogling her and he shrugged. With a coy glance over her shoulder she climbed up the steps to the tub to hop out and Frank then got an eyeful of her firm ass and stupidly toned legs as she wrapped herself in a towel and headed quickly across the decking to the door that led into the kitchen area.

Frank leaned back in the arm water with a sigh as she disappeared from sight, contemplating not for the first time, just how much his life had changed since she had walked into it. He had no doubt in his mind she’d sent him along a completely different path, a far better path, despite the little bumps along the way. Her family had welcomed him and Mary with open arms, and right from the start had treat them both like they were their own. She’d encouraged his reconciliation with his mother, embraced and positively enjoyed the birth of their son despite the fact he knew full well some people had shitty comments about how soon and fast that had all come around with them being together just over a year. But time didn’t mean shit to him, as he’d said the other night, he’d known since that first kiss they’d had on the borrowed boat that if he never held another woman in his arms in his life he’d die a happy man.

But it wasn’t just him that had changed. Fliss had become far more confident and assure in herself as she had settled into a relationship that she felt safe and comfortable in. She still had her little moments and there were so many things they had never actually experienced together that she had tentative memories of, but they worked through them. Even when they argued, in a twisted way it made Frank feel almost pleased that she felt safe enough with him to call him out on his bullshit or stand her ground, even if she was wrong, without fear of getting a beating in retaliation. She’d opened herself to him intimately as well, in ways she’d admitted she’d been scared of because she’d had nothing but brutal or rough memories.

Suddenly his mind flew back to that evening on the boat in their garage a few weeks ago, when he’d pushed her just that little bit further and been pretty rough with her, remembering how he’d fucked her from behind as she leant over the bench at the back. God, that had been incredible.

And now his little problem was a pretty large one as he was rock hard. He slipped his hand down under the water, in an attempt to try and make himself feel a little more comfortable but it was no use. He knew that the only way was going to sort this out, so to speak, was currently bustling around in the kitchen.

Fuck it.

Rising out of the water, he hopped out of the tub and strode across the decking, the wood cold on his feet as he made his way purposefully into the kitchen. Fliss was just turning setting two wine glasses out on the side, and without warning, he strode up behind her and grabbed her hips over the top of the towel she was wrapped in. She gave a little squeak as he spun her round, his lips crashing to hers in a bruising kiss.

“Frank…” she mumbled, and he shook his head.

“Shut up.” He muttered, his lips back on hers. His tongue slid across her upper lip and she gave a soft groan, opening her mouth, allowing him to taste all of her, one hand sliding into her hair as he held her to him, not giving her an inch of space, his rock hard dick pressing into her stomach. She reached for his face but at the motion, his hands grabbed her wrists and forced them back to her sides, clearly, but wordlessly telling her who was in charge as he pulled away, his forehead pressing to hers as he untucked the towel, letting it drop to the floor. One hand sliding up her bare side, over her breast and came to rest at the base of her throat and he hesitated for a second, suddenly his memory spiked with the imagery of angry red finger marks around her delicate neck courtesy of that fucker in Boston almost eighteen months before. He stopped dead, his chest heaved, as for the first time Frank found himself a little lost about just how to proceed, worried he’d over stepped the mark.

And then Fliss’ eyes flashed, with excited trepidation as she leaned forward a little, her hand curling around his wrist.

“Do it.” She whispered, her lips ghosting his.

And at that Frank lost all self-control, a door he’d kept locked for as long as they’d been intimate was blown open the moment the words left her mouth.

Their lips found one another again, his hands moving to her waist to both pull her closer and he began to tug at her bikini bottoms, and in a quick swoop shoved them down as he took hold of her hips again so to manoeuvre her wherever he wanted, the pair of them stumbling a little before he roughly picked her up. Her bare legs immediately wrapped around his slim waist and her arms went around his neck as he slammed her up against the cold glass of the patio doors that led out to the decking. Using it as support he shifted his grip from under her ass, one hand wrapped around the back of her neck, holding her head in position as he kissed her, while the other pried her hands from around him. He wrapped his large hand round both of her wrists, pinning her arms above her head and held them there tightly as his mouth continued to fuck hers, hard, deliberate swipes of his tongue over hers, swallowing the little sighs and whimpers she was making.

Fliss rolled her hips hard against him which was enough to distract him a little, his mouth pausing, but not for long. His lips moved from hers, down to her jaw, her neck, and he bit and sucked, his lust addled brain not giving a single shit if he marked her flawless skin. The hand that was wrapped round her neck moved, skating down her side and over her bare stomach and she arched into the touch, wanting him to move a bit south, but his hand stopped an inch away from where she wanted it to be.

“You’re mine.” Frank’s voice was right by her ear, and he spoke with a deep, almost dark tone that Fliss had never heard from him before. It was full of desire, and it sent a shiver down her spin as once more she attempted to thrust up into his hand, desperate for any sense of relief. But he pulled away a little, making her whine a bit. “Ah ah, baby girl.”

“Frank.” she breathed out, stumbling over her words “Fuck, I…”

He cut her off as he surged forward, kissing her desperately and she openly cried out into his mouth as two of his fingers slipped inside of her. His motions were fast and aggressive and he brought her to the brink, and then stopped.

“Like that?” He breathed out, voice ragged, his lips brushing hers. “Tell me you do and you want this.” “Frankie, please.” She thrust her hips out toward him, gasping “I want you, always…”

At her words Frank felt his cock twitch and with a growl that was positively feral, his hand reached into his swim-shorts as he freed his painfully hard erection from them. He pushed the tip of his cock into her folds, pausing slightly before he slammed the rest of the way into her, making her cry out sharply. He continued to rut into her over and over causing the patio doors to rattle a little, and, as he looked up into her eyes, he found them wide with a look of surprise and downright lust which drove him even wilder and he dropped his head to the swell of her breasts. His free hand moved, pulling the cups of her bikini down and his mouth went to work, sucking and nipping, leaving red marks across her skin as his teeth and beard bit and scratched her raw as his hips snapped back and forth with an avaricious pace.

As he rolled a nipple between his teeth, Fliss let out a loud cry and tried to lean in more to him more, the motion made him go deeper inside of her, which caused them both to groan at the feeling. At that Frank moved his mouth back to hers, both messily kissing each other as he spun her round and stumbled around the kitchen area before he lay her a little roughly over the island in the middle, yanking her back slightly so that her ass hung off the side. His hips pistoned in and out of her with a force that it jolted her body back and forth, her hands flying to either side of her, palms slapping down on the cool surface. She arched her back, her ankles locking around his waist as he leaned down to kiss her again, his brow now beaded with sweat, chest heaving as he felt the coil in his belly starting to tighten.

“Fuck, Frank, I’m gonna…” Fliss felt the red, hot feeling brewing between her legs and thighs, her belly contracting as she teetered along the edge of her orgasm and at her words Frank slammed into her even harder before he gave a dirty little grind against her, repeating the motion a few more times and then she was done. She let out a loud scream and tightened around him, white lights exploding in front of her eyes as the entire world faded to nothing but a jumble of shapes and distant noises as her release wracked her entire body. Her legs trembled around him, gripping him tighter around his waist as she continued to groan out incoherently and at the feel of her tight heat pulsing around him, Frank’s final few thrusts became desperate before he gave a loud “Fahhk…” and he came, hard, his knees buckling slightly as he gripped at the edge of the counter, trying to steady himself.

His arms trembled as he gasped, before he leaned forward, his forehead pressing into her chest as she lay there, legs hanging off the side of the counter, her breathing deep, hands gently tangling in his hair as they both desperately tried to right themselves. Eventually, Frank found the strength to raise his head, his softening cock still stuffed inside of Fliss as he moved to kiss her again. This time the kiss was soft, and loaded with love as he slid his nose against hers, his eyes closed.

“Did I hurt you?” He swallowed, his voice raspy and Fliss shook her head.

“No, you would never hurt me.” She whispered. At that Frank opened his eyes to find her smiling gently at him, her face flushed, a look of sated satisfaction across her pretty features.

“I don’t know what came over me.” He shrugged, almost apologetically and she chuckled, her hand sliding to his shoulders.

“I don’t care.” She took another deep breath “Frank, that was…”

“Yeah.” He agreed, not needing to hear what she was going to say. “I know.”

“I think I’m done in the tub.” She mumbled and Frank chuckled.

“Bed?”

“Yeah. We should probably shower first.”

“Okay.” He move and pulled out of her slowly, before he tucked himself back into his shorts. Fliss pushed herself up into a sitting position and he gently wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her towards him. Her legs once more wrapped around his waist and she kissed him again, her hands sliding through his hair before he gently set her down on the floor. He took his time to scan her up and down as she sorted her swimwear, not missing the red marks on her neck, or the finger shaped ones on her hips where he’d manhandled her. He gently reached out to brush over the red lines he’d made just above her bikini bottoms with the pads of his fingers and her hands fell over his, and she shook her head.

“Don’t “she said gently as he looked up at her, his eyes locking onto hers. “They were made with love, not anger, Frank.”

He swallowed a little at her words, as she kissed him again, and then with her fingers laced into his she turned and they made their way to the bedroom. They took a quick joint shower, cleaning up, sharing a few more gentle kisses and hugs before they dried off and collapsed into bed, utterly spent.

“I love you sweetheart.” Frank pulled Fliss close, her back pressing to his chest as he pressed a soft kiss to her neck. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too, baby.” She yawned, shuffling back into him as they both closed their eyes and settled down, sleep claiming them in a ridiculously short time.

**** The next morning they both woke and lay in bed, just cuddling and chatting for a while before it was time to pack up and head to the airport. They packed their heavy winter coats into their bags just before check in and then headed through security and settled into the bar for a drink whilst they waited for their flight.

Thankfully, their trip home was as smooth as their trip out, no bags went missing and their transfer was on time, so at just after 3pm they touched down in Florida. Little over half an hour later they emerged into the arrivals lounge at Tampa Airport and Frank chuckled as Mary ran to them both. He dropped the bags he was carrying, swinging her up into his arms with a groan, dropping a kiss to her cheek as she hugged him. He then placed her onto the floor and she moved to hug Fliss.

“I missed you both!” She grinned as Fliss straightened up.

“We missed you too!” Fliss smiled at her, before she looked at her Dad who had just given Frank a quick back slapping embrace. “How’s Alex?”

“He’s fine, he’d just gone down when I came out to pick you up.” Bill smiled, giving her a hug. “So, did you have a nice time?”

“It was great.” Frank smiled, picking up his bag as Bill reached to take Fliss’. “Loved every second of it.”

“Did you bring me a present?” Mary demanded as they headed through towards the elevator to take them to the parking lot.

“Matter of fact, yes we did.” Frank smiled and he reached into his small carry-on bag , pulling out a half drunk bottle of water. “Brought you some genuine Vermont snow except it melted, so now it’s more genuine Vermont water.”

Mary looked at it, then to him. “That’s not funny, Dad.” She glared as Bill roared with laughter. She snatched the bottle of Evian and then gave a scoff. “You could have at least tried to make the joke with a bottle of water from this country.”

“So ungrateful.” Frank took it back from her and twisted the cap off, taking a long drink as the elevator doors opened. “Tell you what, snow water sure does taste good.”

Marry rolled her eyes before she turned to Bill. “Can I stay with you?”

“Course you can love.”

“Good, because you’re much less of an idiot than he is.” She jerked her thumb at Frank who arched his eyebrow at her.

“Oh I dunno about that.” Fliss quipped cheekily as Bill looked at her, his eyebrow raised. “I could tell you a few tales about some pretty dumb stuff he’s done.”

“Like what?” Mary asked.

“Like the time he crashed a fork-lift into the side of a van on a building site.” Fliss mused. “Or when he dropped a hammer on his foot and broke two of his toes when he was putting up a shelf in the kitchen.”

“Are we going there, Titch?” Bill turned to her as he selected the floor for their car, Frank and Mary’s laughter echoing around the elevator. “Because as far as doing stupid stuff goes, you and your brother take the biscuit.”

“Cookie.” Mary looked at him. “They take the cookie.”

“Biscuit.” Bill shot back.

“We had this discussion last night, Poppa Bill!” Mary shook her head. “It’s a cookie.”

Bill looked down at her, then to Frank.

“I changed my mind, you can keep her.” He deadpanned.

**** Chapter 21

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

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milazka · 4 years ago

Text

Distraction — Drew Starkey.

image found on pinterest

summary: the one where the quaterback of the football team helps you forget about your bad grade.

request: yes

content: fluff & smut

author’s note: it’s my very first story about a member of the cast of outer banks! i would like to clarify that all this is fictional, i only use the looks and the names of the actors and actresses. my masterlist will be linked at the end of this story if you feel like reading some other fics. this one is for my babe cort ( @pogue-writings ) because she is drew’s soulmate.

warnings: most of my stories may contain mature themes such as swearing, underage drinking, substance abuse, sexual language and scenes, fights and more. also, i do not intend to be offensive towards anyone who reads this blog, if anything written can be perceived as hurtful to any community or person, i apologize, it was never my purpose while writing it.

word Count: 1957.

The campus library has always been her favorite spot to study. It's quiet and the atmosphere is always soothing, the exact opposite of her dorm room where her roommate seems more interested in experimenting the male anatomy than studying it in her textbook. A few weeks ago, after catching her once again during the act, she had decided to find a new place to study. She had walked around the campus and eventually found this spot around one of the large hardwood tables that stand between the bookshelves full of old books about psychology. The perfect place to set her in a study mood.

For the past few hours, she has been sitting in her usual place, her textbook open in front of her eyes and her black notebook on her right. She only has one midterm left in two days and it will cover all the topics seen in her subconscious psychology course, which is one of her most interesting courses, but also the one that requires the longest hours of study in order to pass the exams.

The sound of a chair gliding on the floor makes her look up and she’s surprised to see Drew, a boy from her psychology of the subconscious class, sit on the chair in diagonal to her. Normally, the library is almost empty at this time of the night and she never saw him here; he seems like the kind of guy who spends more time on the football field than he does in front of his textbooks. They’ve been in the same class for four months, but she never really paid attention to him, except when he is disturbing the class with the two other musketeers, Chase and Rudy. She smiles nicely at him when their eyes meet and he raises his coffee cup which he pretends to drink all at once while they both laugh silently, hoping not to be warned by Mrs. Jones, the librarian who looks strangely similar to Roz from the movie Monster inc.

She tries to put her nose back in her book, trying to focus on the pages suggested in the study guide and highlighting important sentences from a passage about Freud and his discovery of psychoanalysis, but she can't help but look up discreetly at the boy. He is wearing a navy flannel shirt which, half-buttoned, reveals a white shirt that moulds his muscular chest. His trademark cap, which he always wears backwards, rests as usual on the top of his head, still letting a few strands of hair slip out of the hat. She particularly lingers on his muscled arms covered by the navy blue cloth, it's not surprising that he's the quarterback on the football team. The studious look on his face and the way he’s chewing on the tip of his pencil while frowning makes him look cuter than usual, she can’t deny it.

When she sees the lateness of the hour, she delicately puts her books back in her red bag, not noticing how intensely the boy is staring at her. He simply can't help but admire her sweet angelic face, her tired-looking little eyes, the thin, shiny layer of lip balm covering her lips that he would dream of kissing; he likes everything about her and cannot help but smile foolishly.

“Hey Y/n,” he whispers, catching her attention. “Me and the boys are throwing a party friday night, you should come.”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” she smiles at him, noticing his blushing cheeks and the little spark in his gaze.

“Great! Good luck on your exam.”

“Good luck to you too. I’ll see you friday.”

─── °• ❀ ───

The room goes from purple to blue, then from blue to pink, courtesy of the spotlights that change the colour of the room's luminosity along the rhythm of the music. The parties hosted by the university football team always do justice to their reputation, no matter what’s the occasion. It's not the first time she attends one, but it's the first time she’s been invited by the quarterback. Her mind did not stop playing back the memory of the little sparkle in the young man's eyes when she had accepted his invitation. Maybe it meant nothing, but a part of her wants to believe it didn't. Plus, she really needs to take her mind off things after receiving her mediocre grade from the last exam. She knew her teacher was strict, but not this strict.

As she makes her way through the dancing crowd, an arm slips around her naked shoulders, making her startles. She's used to being approached by boys at parties, but she hates it when they think they can do anything and touch her even if she doesn't want to. Looking up, she loosen up when she sees Drew's familiar face smirking at her and she's glad it's not a drunk who's asking her to blow him.

“I'm so glad you came,” he says to her as he hands her a red cup filled with beer. “How did your exam go?”

She pouts, taking a big sip of the golden liquid that tickles her throat.

“Really bad.”

“That sucks,” she raises an eyebrow at the boy as when he takes back the cup that he just gave her and drops it on the countertop behind him. “C’mon, I have the perfect remedy for a bad grade.”

Drew takes her tiny hand into his big one, guiding her to the backyard where several tables are set up to play beer pong. Small lights illuminate the yard where games have already started. People cheer each other up and yell like crazy when someone manage to get the ball in a cup. She recognizes Rudy’s familiar blond hair when he jumps into Jonathan's arms and she deduces they just won their game against Madison and Austin. Everyone laughs when the two boys lose their balance and crash into the grass, grunting at each other. Her hand is still holding Drew's firmly when he walks up to Chase who is sitting in a chair close to the fire pit with his girlfriend on his lap, grilling and eating marshmallows.

“Yo Chase! Me and Y/n vs Maddie and you?” Drew challenges his friend, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Game on, baby!” Chase exclaims as they both stand up and follow them to the table.

She and Drew make a fire team, throwing a series of winning shots and gradually getting Madelyn and Chase drunk. All the way through the game, she never worries about her bad grade, it's like it never existed. The alcohol in her bloodstream seems to be opening her eyes to Drew's attractiveness. The girl never really paid attention to how he is totally her type of guy. She bites her lower lip, obviously checking him out when he pulls off his hoodie and his shirt comes up, revealing the prominent V-shape above the hem of his pants.

“Like what you see, don't ya?” he teases the girl, an irresistible smile on the corner of his lips.

She blushes up to her ears, making Drew laugh, and he just adds to her embarrassment by putting his arm around her shoulders before throwing the last ball who lands directly into the last standing cup. Maybe it's the emotion of the moment for her, whereas he's been dreaming about it for months, but their eyes meet each other and suddenly their lips collide. The kiss doesn't last long, not long enough in his opinion. The flight of butterflies in the young woman's belly doesn't disappear when their lips separate, she needs to kiss him again, to feel him touch her.

“I need you, Drew.” she whines close to his ear, making his heart skips a beat. "God, Y/n," he breaths out, pulling her closer to him. "Do you know how long I've been dreaming about you saying that to me?”

She just winks at him and grabs his hand, pulling him toward the front door as he pinches himself on the arm, not believing that this is really happening. He throws a murderous look at Rudy and Chase who make fun of him by pretending to make out sensually. They pass through the living room which is still full of people swinging their bodies to the rhythm of the music and climb upstairs where Drew guides them to his room. He slams her against the door, his hands grabbing her hips as he kisses her again. She bites his lower lip, making him growl against her mouth. Drew starts to place open mouthed kisses on her neck and she tiltes it to give him full access to her burning skin. He leads her to the bed, pinning her on the mattress and he removes her short as he is now hovering over her half naked body. His hand slides down her thigh, making her squirm under him as he gets closer to her core. He plays with the waistband of her panties, smirking against her lips.

“Drew,” she moans, looking at him with her eyes filled with desire. He grabs her waist and flip them over so she is now straddling him. She unbuttons his khaki shirt, slipping his hands over his muscular chest. She starts to grind down on his lap, making him whine and dig his fingers into her buttcheeks

“It's not about me tonight, I'm not the one who needs to be distracted.” he whispers to her ear before flipping her over again so that he is now hovering over her.

She lets out a few muffled moans as he leaves a trail of kisses between her breast and on her stomach. He sucks and nibbles at the skin on her inner thighs, only increasing her desire to feel him on her already wet womanhood.

“You’re so pretty, all wet and spread out like this, just for me.”

“Drew, please…” she begs, but he cuts her short by placing a kiss on her clit, slipping her underwear off. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above her wet folds, making her buck her hips up.

“So eager, baby, I like it.” he hums just above her bundle of nerves, sending vibrations on it. She runs her fingers through his light brown hair, pushing him closer to her heat. He finally licks a full stripe through her folds, making her back arch to the so desired feeling.

“Oh fuck,” she groans as he inserts one finger in her, his tongue sucking on her clit. His hands are firmly wrapped around her thighs to keep her spread open for him. She clenches the sheets between her fists, her eyes close under the wave of pleasure that runs through her body when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. His nose rubs up against her clit as he moves his face, pumping his tongue in and out of her.

“Fuck I’m so close, please don’t stop,” she moans, making him pumps his tongue faster. A few profanities mixed with loud moans leave her lips as she reaches her high, legs shaking on his shoulders. He licks her folds a few more times to clean her up, sending electric jolts through her body when he touches her sensitive nerves from the orgasm. He lies down beside her, pulling her towards him with his arms wrapped around her body.

“What about you? I’m no the type of girl who doesn’t give back,” she starts but Drew shushes her with a quick kiss. “I’m sure you’re not, but tonight it’s about you and only you.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect, y’a know?”

“It was about time you figured that out!” he mocks her and she giggles, burying her face further into the crook of his neck.

─── °• ❀ ───

mila’s masterlist

taglist (send me an ask if you want to be added)

@milaonthemoon @spilledtee @pogue-writings @thebutterflyonhischest @ilovejjmaybank @bananasfromtarget @drewstarkeyobx @void-maybank @prejudic3

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey au #drew starkey obx #drew starkey one shot #obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #obx fic #obx fanfiction #drew starkey fic

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doctorreids · 4 years ago

Text

folklore - spencer reid x reader

CHAPTER TWO - cardigan

previous chapter | next chapter

summary: reader reflects upon her first time with spencer, upon the loss of her father and whether or not she did enough to save their relationship.

warnings: death/loss of a loved one.

word count: 2,494

“sequinned smile, black lipstick, sensual politics. when you are young they assume you know nothing.”

This case hit the team particularly hard. Child abductions could either end with a happy ending or… This one was not one of those times. She was sure Reid had a statistic but they were all too exhausted to even keep their eyes open on the jet. The air was somber and tense - everyone feeling all too guilty to indulge in any kind of conversation.

By the time the plane had landed, none of them had slept and it was completely dark outside. She knew she needed a drink and a strong one at that. Reid had sat by her the entire flight home, she noticed how he could barely focus on his book in front of him, his shoulders completely tense. The 20,000 words per minute was slashed to 10 minutes. She hated yet understood that they all felt guilty, but there was always a special sadness in her when Reid was upset. He was the one negotiating, all that weight fell on his shoulders and she just wanted to hold him and tell him that everything will be okay.

They all filtered into the office, Reid following sluggishly behind her. This was routine now, having only been at the bureau for just shy of a year, she had learnt how everyone took their coffee or tea, what time they all headed home with Hotch and Reid being the last out of the doors. She’d become accustomed to joining them in burning the late-night oil.

Reid didn’t even spare a glance at the kitchen as he sat down at his desk, a frown etched onto his face. She just wanted him to smile.

Making his coffee was second nature to her now; she knew exactly how much sugar he took depending on how he was feeling. Smiling to herself, she placed his mug on his desk and as he glanced up she walked back to her own desk to start working on the post-case paperwork and other cases she’d been asked to consult on.

She didn’t see it but he smiled. Only slightly but he did.

A few hours passed when she was finishing up her last file when a note was dropped onto her desk as Reid walked past her desk.

'Would you like to get a drink at Dan’s tonight? - S’

Grinning, she packed up all her files into her go-bag, grabbed her coffee cup and jacket meeting him in the kitchen. Silent words were exchanged as they met each other’s eyes, walking in sync towards the elevator.

“Didn’t take you for a Dan’s person, pretty boy.”

He blushed at the nickname, she rarely used it. “I-i just thought you could use a bit of respite is all.”

“We both could.” She giggled, nudging him with her shoulder. “You barely read your book on the way home and you couldn’t concentrate on your files, is everything okay?

She didn’t want to push him into talking to her, he would talk when he felt comfortable. However, his silence after her question and his eyes trained on the pavement made her nervous.

“N-not that you have to tell me! I just worry about you.”

His head snaps up. He meets her eyes with a slight smile.

“All I know is that I’m okay when I’m with you.”

After nursing a few drinks between them, despite both of them knowing they were lightweights, they stumbled out of Dan’s and into a cool January night. Pressed up against a streetlight, she grabbed onto the lapels of his suit jacket.

They’d spent the night talking about the case. How much she saw herself in the kids that were abducted. How he felt as though he had let everyone down. Her heart broke at his vulnerability.

Their noses were so close, she could feel his hot breath fan across her face; the smell of whiskey and wine mixed together. On a cold, winter night, they were each other’s warmth. Taking him in under the dim, amber streetlight she traced his features as if it was the last time she would ever see him, ever hold him, ever be this close to him.

His hair was short yet long, he was growing it out. She liked it either way. She’d have him anyway just as long as he was hers.

His eyes bore into hers, occasionally flickering down to her lips, filled with the same yearning and desperation she felt herself filled with.

His lips. She watched as he swiped his tongue across them. Suddenly she was sixteen again at homecoming waiting for that first perfect kiss.

In his embrace, she felt whole. No feeling of loneliness nor was this just pure lust. That underlying promise of something more made her stomach sink. She tried to figure out what was going on in his head.

“Penny for your thoughts?” She laughed.

They pulled back from a moment, the intimacy of their embrace broken.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nodded.

Their lips connected and winter disappeared. It was sweet, his lips soft against hers. Her hand rested on the nape of his neck, his on her hips pulling her into him. Moving together, they were intoxicated by each other. She could now taste the whiskey on his tongue, each of her senses was consumed with Spencer. Just Spencer. Running her hands through his hair, she doesn’t want to let go.

Their lips parted, the cold breeze cut between them. Giddy smiles graced before their faces as he brushed her hair out of her face. A mutual understanding that they need each other, unspoken they know how much they do. She’d never needed someone as much as she needed him.

She tries to calm her breathing, her heart beating so fast it might burst out of her chest, as they walk wrapped in each other back to his apartment. His hand rests on her hip, rubbing small circles into it as they walk home. She had never seen him as brave as he was tonight.

Yet nervousness surrounded them both. They were so young, they knew so little but so much about the other.

She wanted everything.

“when i felt like an old cardigan under someone’s bed, you put me on and said i was your favourite.”

The note he wrote all that time ago is tattered now and she toys with it. She’s kept all of the notes he’s passed her since her first day at the Bureau. She knew that he would profile her, it’s why he left the notes.

She knew that he understood that she sometimes needed a reason to smile, that he wanted to make her laugh and to make their working days just that little bit easier.

She wonders if he ever kept her responses.

The warmth of his cardigans that she used to wrap around herself when they queued up a new documentary on Netflix or when they watched an episode of Doctor Who together always reminded her of the warmth between them that first night they shared together.

Curling up further in her leather armchair, she tries to recall his touch. Trying to remember how his hands felt as they brushed her inner thighs, on the small of her back, or the place where she needed them most. She can’t remember where he used to hold her but she remembers how it made her feel.

Even on her worst days, the days were the grief, frustration and sadness were all too much, his embrace made her feel as though he was the sun; the centre to her universe and she was a whole galaxy of stars passing through. Old wounds healed and winter turned to spring in his arms.

But even that feeling has started to fade as his eyes no longer look at her as though she lightens up the night sky, now they just look through her.

It’s hard for her to pinpoint the exact moment things went wrong. Maybe they just left their rose-coloured glasses on for too long to avoid the reality that everything was collapsing around them.

The pain she held in heart, all the times she felt used or abandoned, became non-existent in his presence. The pure happiness he brought her she finds hard to describe; he reminded her of hot chocolate on an autumn night, but he also reminded her of the hot sun beating down on your back as you lie on the beach with nothing but the sound of gentle waves to keep you company.

She wonders if she ever brought him the same happiness he did for her?

It keeps her up at night. All the questions. What did she do right? What did she do wrong? Can it be fixed? But she reminds herself that it’s been months, if fate wanted them together she’d still be waking up on the other side of town to the smell of coffee and Beethoven.

“you drew stars around all my scars, but now i’m bleeding.”

The monitor flatlined, piercing through the silence of the blisteringly white, pristine hospital room.

She knew that she would lose him eventually. Just not like this.

This was her father - the one constant in her life since she lost her mother. He was her closest friend, confidant and companion. He taught everything she knows about life, love and good food. She needed more time. She was only young, she even believed their assumptions that she knew nothing and this was proof.

Finally, she allowed herself to weep. Hopeless tears rolled down her cheeks as Spencer wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. Her head pressed against where his heart lay in his chest. Even his heartbeat couldn’t calm her down.

Too weak to carry herself, the doctor’s words to her barely registered to her. All she knew was that it wasn’t painful, he didn’t suffer. Her father was finally at peace.

That provided her no comfort in that moment.

She can’t recall the week leading up to the funeral. Every day felt as though she was outside of herself, watching everything else happen. She felt numb, frozen in one place, and unable to move. People tackle grief in different ways, she knows the stages, yet she never felt herself go through any of them. She was completely and utterly disembodied by grief.

She listened to the kind words at the wake, at the funeral. She tried to remember them all but all she could think about was Spencer’s hand in hers. His gentle squeezes brought her back down to earth, out of the turmoil in her mind.

She thinks about how her Dad told him to take care of her. She remembers overhearing a conversation about blessings but she let that go a long time ago, they were too young for marriage her father would always joke.

She knew he was trying to be there for her as much as he could be, he couldn’t take time off of work to provide her with the support she needed. All he could do was call, check in as often as he could. The distance only made her heart shatter more and more. He didn’t urge her to talk about how she was feeling, he knew it would come in time but she all she wanted was that embrace. She wanted to feel his hands lightly trace her skin, the feeling alone mended the scars on her heart. But he wasn’t there.

“i knew you, tried to change the ending, peter losing wendy.”

She didn’t blame him for not being there. Work was as demanding as ever, that was the excuse time and time again. Then again, they were both not ones for sharing their feelings - she knew that he agreed with her when it came to spilling their souls. Sometimes it felt as though they were burdening each other with the weight they both held on their shoulders. Despite all the instances where they told each other that they would be there for it all, they still held back.

She didn’t know how to trust him with it.

He didn’t know how to express how scared he really was.

Their love was reminiscent of first love; full of childlike wonder, hope, and open to the world and its seasons.

But everyone grows up. Everyone is faced with the reality of life. Things come to end, there is suffering and there is happiness - everyone, whether you believe it or not, is in the hands of fate.

She laughed at the thought of Spencer believing in fate, he was a man of science after all. She believed that it was fate that they met that day, that they fell in love. She always will but she wonders if it was fate that pulled them apart or just a set of cruel circumstances and their fears of vulnerability.

The loss of her father impacted her in ways she struggled to comprehend herself. Her heart started to come apart that day, the cracks starting to show.

She loved her father, she was grateful for all he did. Her mother passed when she was 7 and her father never faltered. He taught her all she needed to know about love, about who to love, and who to let go. She didn’t know who to be without him. She had so much more to share with him.

She needed Spencer there and he wasn’t. Somedays he was so quiet she wondered if he had left his or her apartment. He never made her a cup of tea when the jet landed late, he never left her any notes, he never touched her anymore.

She tried to convince herself that she had done all that she could to try and save the sinking ship that was their relationship; cooking his favourite meals, bookshop dates, movie dates, long walks whenever they could. She tried talking to him, to try and get him to tell her how he felt but he shut it down. She knew it was easy to point fingers and place the blame on him for the end of their relationship but it’s not that simple. Maybe she stopped paying attention to everything he said, maybe she was too closed off, maybe she missed the signs. Maybe she clung onto him too much or maybe she left him alone too often.

For now, the loss is too much. From her father to her love, it crushes her. Each glass of wine provides her with the liquid courage to press that call button. But each time she reaches for it, she retracts and her nerves kick in.

Letting go is easier said than done, but all she needs right at this very moment is his embrace. Maybe just one more glass. Maybe then she’d call and he’d come back to her.

#spencer reid #spencer #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction

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captain-tch · 3 years ago

Text

All That I Can Give

summary: kiko is a struggling business owner thrown into the chaos of the borderlands. when she makes a mistake that will threaten her life, she learns just how far she will go to keep herself alive.

TW: DEATH, MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, MENTAL HEALTH, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, VIOLENCE

chapter 9: question time

previous chapter

Coming back to the pharmacy that night was hard. Neither of them spoke. Kiko wasn’t sure she could form words; she was pretty certain Tetsu didn’t have the energy for it. She didn’t mind. The silence gave her chance to mull over the events that night.

The more she thought about it, the less she felt.

She stared at her hands in awe. These hands, her hands, took down the one true evil in her life. It destroyed her tormentor and now her chest felt lighter than it ever had before. No longer did she have to worry about Riku coming home with an ever changing palette of bruises on his skin. She no longer had to fear the store being looted at night. She no longer had to sleep with a pair of scissors nestled underneath her pillow.

She could start to breathe again.

A deep shame took root in her body. Kiko felt like she should hold some level of remorse. She stole a human life when she didn’t need to. Yet as much as tried to dig deep into herself to find a single negative emotion about what happened, she found... nothing.

She sighed, looking up at the pharmacy door. She shrugged her shoulder, jolting Tetsu awake. Her voice was frail, her throat scratching as she forced words out. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Where are the keys?”

“As if I’d trust you to use them.” He took a step away from Kiko, swaying on the spot. She jumped forward as he started to dip towards the ground, catching him just before his head hit the ground. Tetsu stared up at her with an icy stare. “I can do it.”

Rolling her eyes, Kiko let Tetsu go. He thudded to the ground, a high pitched moan emitting from his mouth. His glare didn’t lessen in intensity as he somehow found a way to stand upright long enough to unlock the door. He clutched onto the door handle like it was a crutch.

Entering the building, Tetsu collapsed to the floor in a heap. Kiko gently kicked him out of the way, shutting the door with a soft slam and proceeding to lock all of the 4 locks barricading the door. Tetsu watched with hawk eyes as she did this.

“Don’t you trust me?” Kiko smirked.

“Trust is a loose term.”

She scoffed. Taking in his bloodied and bruised form, she started to walk through the aisles. “What’s the best stuff to deal with... you?”

“Poison,” he muttered sarcastically to himself. A little louder this time, he told her to grab some dressing, water, cloth and pain relief. She scavenged the area for the supplies, returning to his side a few minutes later.

Kiko pointed at his shirt. Tetsu frowned at her, waiting for her to elaborate. Kiko tried to open her mouth to speak, swallowing thickly as the words got lodged in her throat. Unconsciously a hand drifted to her throat.

Tetsu watched her struggle silently. She took a few moments to compose herself, gesturing again to his shirt and making a lifting motion with her hand. It took some time for it to register.

Grunting under his breath, he tried to lift his shift off himself. As soon as he tried to lift his arms above his head he cried out, body going lax. His head fell back against the cupboard. He took three calming breaths, face scrunching up when he breathed deeply.

His hands went to the bottom of his shirt when Kiko stopped him. Halting him in his tracks, she pushed his hands away, giving him a tiny smile. “You can trust your body guard.”

She found a pair of scissors nearby, making quick work of cutting off his shirt. She pulled the excess material away, touch light as she pulled it off his body. He winced slightly but said nothing else.

When his chest was finally exposed to her, she couldn’t withhold her gasp. His chest was a canvas of colour, bruises turning a dark colour on the surface. In some areas his chest had been cut, blood crusted around the wounds. From the way his hand was lingering near his ribs and the pigments there, she was certain he had broken his ribs.

“I’m so sorry Ryuk did this to you.” Kiko turned her gaze downwards, busying her hands with wetting some cloth with water.

“It’s not your fault.” He watched her movements carefully, eyes running over the wounds littering her body. They seemed to fixate on the bruise around her neck the most. “You’re hurt too.”

Kiko brushed it off. Her elbow throbbed, her back ached and she was fairly certain there was a possibility she might have to be mute for a while. Even with these growing concerns in her mind, she sent him a trembling smile, speaking in a raspy voice. “It’s nothing.”

Tetsu nodded. Kiko started to make work of cleaning the blood from his skin, the cloth turning a rusty red as she washed his face. Her movements were so light Tetsu could barely feel her touch him.

“Can I ask you something?”

Kiko raised a brow. Tetsu wasn’t normally one to ask questions, and if he did, he surely never asked permission. Silently she bobbed her head.

“How do you know Ryuk?”

She froze. She contemplated telling Tetsu where to shove his question (more specifically, up his ass), or just be honest with him. It felt like he was knowing more about her daily, and to her, he was still a stranger.

“How about I answer your question, for the price of asking you a question.” Kiko was surprised when Tetsu agreed.

Kiko continued cleaning his skin, dipping the cloth back into the water. Ever so slowly it was beginning to turn a murky colour. “Do you remember the game where we met?”

Tetsu nodded.

“I mentioned my debt. Well, he was one of the more, untraditional debt collectors.” Kiko moved to cleaning his chest now, making her touch feather flight. She could still feel him tense under the sensation. “He caused my family misery for years.”

“Do you feel better for killing him?”

Kiko halted. She felt her words falter, something she tried to pin on her aching throat, trying to form an answer to a question she wasn’t sure she had. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Fire away,” he relented.

“How did you know the answer?” It didn’t long for Tetsu to realise she was referring to the seven of diamonds game. It had been boggling her ever since the game was completed and she could think straight. He slumped down, letting Kiko finish cleaning him before answering.

“I didn’t.” He shrugged, hissing at the sudden movement. “I took a chance and it paid off.”

Kiko stared at him, mouth opening and closing. She struggled to fathom why he would gamble with his life so freely, so easily. She opened her mouth to question it, his voice interrupting her. “A question for a question?”

Kiko nodded.

“Do you regret killing Ryuk?”

She knew the question was coming and she still had to give herself time to think. It was true that she felt safer now that he was gone. She didn’t regret it at the time. Afterwards she was horrified by what she did. But with the image of his mangled head appearing in his mind, she found the only thing she felt was elation. “I only regret that it will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

He hummed, sated with her half truth. Now Kiko was itching to ask him a question that had been burning in her mind since he revealed his truth. “Why gamble your life like that?”

Kiko reached for the dressing, starting to unravel it. She pushed herself closer to Tetsu, wrapping the material around his chest tightly. His skin was cool and smooth to touch. He drew in a large breath. “If I was right, then it wouldn’t be so bad. If I was wrong, well, it could be worse.”

“You would have died.”

Tetsu’s silence spoke a thousand words. It struck a chord within her. She was sent back to a chilly day, wrapped up in a thick, black jacket, a note crumpled in her pocket. A train could be heard rattling down the tracks. Her toes tiptoed the edge, bracing herself for the impact that would never come.

Kiko shook herself. It would do her no good to be thinking of that here.

Tying the dressing, she marvelled her work. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. “Not too tight?”

Tetsu grunted. “Perfect.”

“Can I do anything else to help?”

She could see how much it physically pained him to ask. “Can you help me to the couch?”

With one arm wrapped around her waist, they shakily walked to their makeshift bedroom. Kiko made an effort to ensure Tetsu was comfortable, shifting pillows and dragging the blanket over him.

“Kiko?” Tetsu looked up at her with half lidded eyes. “Make sure you drink some water.”

He gave her a small smile, his wrecked body rapidly falling asleep.

Kiko sighed, moving to the other room to address her own wounds. Like Tetsu advised she dabbed some water on her bruises, paying particular attention to the one wrapped around her throat. If she looked closely enough, she could make out where Ryuk’s fingers had marked her. She carefully cleaned her elbow, being sure to pull as many shards of glass out as she could. She was unable to control how her breath hitched each time a particularly sharp shard was pulled from out of her skin.

With her elbow cleaned and bandaged, a yawn consumed her. She nestled into her make shift bed, glancing at a half full water bottle calling her from across the room.

Kiko swiftly turned away, quickly falling into a world of blood soaked dreams.

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland fanfic #alice in borderland fanfiction #aib #aib fanfic #aib fanfiction

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thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years ago

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Read into Me Chapter 10: That Mad Ache

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 2,266

Warnings: ANGST FRIENDS THIS ONES NOT FUN

Series Tag: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @buckysarge @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @peterparxour @a-big-ball-of-idk @asharpkniffe @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @ggclarissa @boredoomfm @voidnarnia @the-passionate-freak @awkwardnesshabitat @darkcrystal-wolf @hannahrisacher

You didn’t exactly know where you were going, but you didn’t care. You had the windows rolled down, Elton John crooning on the radio, and your bare feet up on the seat. Steve had taken off his tie and jacket, popping open the top three buttons on his dress shirt. His hair was blowing in the breeze and you could see his chest hair peeking out from under the thin material of his shirt. He looked hot. You were drunk on adrenaline and you felt like kissing him. You were hyperaware of your lips, of his. You almost reached over to kiss him. But you didn’t.

“Where are we going?” you called over the wind in your ears.

Steve turned and looked at you with a cheeky grin. He’d pulled in around the community pool, long closed. “You wanna go swimming?” he asked.

“Won’t we get caught?” you asked. You didn’t bother to mention your lack of swimwear. You weren’t naïve as to what he was suggesting and you weren’t uninterested in the idea.

“Nah, the cops are more interested in stopping teen drinking after the dance ends than sneaking into the pool.” Steve replied with a shrug, parking the car at the farthest end of the lot, under a heavy looking evergreen. You nodded, popping the door open. Steve grinned, following you as you made your way into the pool. As expected, the back gate was locked with a heavy padlock and chain, but the fence was easily jumped, barely seven feet tall, Steve barely had to climbed to reach the top and then up and over. The fence was a bit taller than you compared to Steve, but you hooked your bare feet into the latticed metal and heaved yourself up, pausing briefly at the top to take in a heavy breath before throwing your other leg over the top and shimmied down.

The pavement below was dry and harsh, long dried out from last summer. Hawkins still couldn’t be bothered to install an automated cover for the pool, draining it in the winter and leaving it uncovered for the rest of the year. It was a costly cheap fix, but it came in handy now. The long plastic line lanes had been pulled out and roped up on large barrels near the clubhouse and the lights along the pool walls turned the water ominously yellow along the edges. The lights above the pool had been turned off, but the street lamps along the road and in the parking lot lit up the area enough to see.

Steve swallowed hard. The woods were too close. He didn’t like darkness that loomed there; the unknown had too many options now. Those damned dogs could still be out there. He hadn’t seen where they’d gone. They’d all just run off. He hadn’t seen one since but on the nights where he couldn’t sleep he’d sit and watch out his windows to try to spot anything in those woods. He didn’t like the way the trees moved in the wind, especially with bleary, sleep deprived eyes. Now he was a bit too close. Cold sweat pricked his skin.

You reached behind your back and pulled down the zipper of your dress. You felt self conscious of yourself. You’d never stripped for a man, even really around a man. Still, you’d decided to do it. You pushed off the straps of your dress, letting it slip off your body and fall to the pavement below you. You dove into the water, icy cold on your skin.

Steve heard the splash. He whipped around, looking for a demo-dog about to strike. He didn’t know if they could swim and he didn’t want to find out. Instead he saw you burst through the water, your hair wet and slicked to your skull. Your makeup had smeared and your lips slightly blue. “You coming?” you asked, gasping for air to fill your cold body. Steve swallowed hard, nodding quickly. He kicked off his dress pants and unbuttoned his dress shirt. He jumped in fast, putting his focus on the beautiful, nearly naked girl in the water with him. In the back of his mind, he was wired. It wasn’t so much a fight or flight but more a protective urge. If anything happened, he’d made up his mind that he’d protect you over himself. He’d done it before for those kids, he’d do it again.

He burst out of the water in front of you with a splash. You laughed loudly, tipping your head back. Steve shook his head wildly, his hair flicking water over your face and neck. You squealed, pushing him away, swimming off to the other side of the pool.

“Aw come on, I thought you liked it wet,” he joked, swimming after you.

“Oh I do,” you started, turning to move away from the wall. Steve trapped you between his arms.

“Oh yeah? Tell me more…” he drawled. Moonlight was caught in your eyes. Or maybe that was street lights. It didn’t really matter; he could spend the rest of his life drinking you in.

You demurred, turning your head away from him. You ran a hand through your soaked hair. “Isn’t that a bit vain?” you asked.

“Sue me…” Steve chuckled, lowering his head to watch you carefully.

You conceded, leaning your elbows against the edge of the pool to hold yourself up. “I like your hair, wet or dry…I like your eyes and your smile…and…” you paused, humming slightly to mull over whether or not you should you should admit. “I like your arms.” You said simply, almost decidedly.

“My arms?” Steve was bemused. He expected to be flattered, and he was, but he didn’t expect a mention to his arms.

“Yeah, they’re strong and warm, I find them endlessly comforting.” You shrugged, reaching out a hand to caress his wrist gently. Your fingers had pruned, but your touch was warm, it sent tingles up his spine. You lifted his hand off the pool side, swimming under it and across the pool.

Steve turned to watch you go past. “And I like…” he said in a sing-song tone, putting his finger to his chin and cocking his head to the side.

“Oh no, I don’t really need to-” you started, holding up your hands defensibly.

“I like your laugh,” Steve said, cutting you off. “And your hands, even though they’re always covered in grey smudges, because you can make beautiful things with them. And I like eyes. You have nice eyes.”

You felt yourself colour. You didn’t know how to handle compliments, you didn’t get them often enough to be used to them. “Thank you…” you murmured. Steve once again trapped you. He felt warm against your skin, dizzying delicious. You wanted to stay there forever, but your mind screamed at you to run. His mouth hovered over yours, inching closer to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut. You wanted so badly to kiss him.

Instead, you pressed a hand to his bare chest, pushing him back. “Steve, wait,” you began.

Steve’s heart dropped “I thought…”

“I know, but I can’t, I haven’t told you yet…” your heart was breaking in your chest. You didn’t think this would be as difficult as this. You hadn’t expected everything to be so perfect.

“Told me what?” Steve narrowed his eyes. He didn’t know what you were about to say, but he didn’t like it. He’d already dealt with Nancy sneaking around with Jonathan Byers behind his back; he didn’t want to be made a fool again.

“I’m…leaving.”

“What?”

“I’m leaving Hawkins.” You sighed, pushing yourself onto the edge of the pool, letting the cold bitter night air sting your skin. “I’m meeting my mother in Paris. I’ve applied to the city’s school of the arts.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t imagined you going anywhere. You pressed on to fill the gap. “I don’t really know when I’ll be back here, it’ll all depend on if I get into the school and so I don’t want to lead you on or start something here when I’m leaving so soon.” You explained awkwardly.

“When are you leaving?” Steve managed to ask, swallowing hard.

“Right after graduation,” you said. Steve groaned loudly, an anguished cry. “I wanted to leave the first week of June but a part of the application process is working for a month in this sort of salon. It’s not like teaching its showing what you can do in real time. I have to leave right after exams and graduation to get there in time.”

The sound of a car speeding past drew in both your attention. You both became hyperaware that you were trespassing on city property. “We should go.” Steve said coldly, heaving himself out of the pool. You grabbed your dress off the pavement. Steve followed suit with his own dress clothes, pulling his dress shirt over his wet skin. You both hopped the fence again, walking in silence to his car. You felt distressingly naked compared to Steve, who was pulling back on his pants. Instead of going to the driver’s side to unlock the car, he popped the trunk and pulled out an oil marked Hawkins High sweatshirt from under the bat. He tossed it at your head and shut the trunk.

“Thank you…” you muttered, placing your dress on the roof of his car and pulled on the sweatshirt greedily. You drank in the warmth of the material, blocking out the cold air on your arms and chest. Steve unlocked his door and reached inside to pop the lock on your side. You pulled open your door and grabbed your dress, tossing it onto the floor of the car. You stepped in, shutting out the night as Steve started up the car.

You drove in silence for awhile. Then, Steve spoke “So, how long have you known?” he asked.

“A couple weeks, around the same time you asked me to prom.” You replied. Steve nodded, turning his attention back to the road. You could’ve cut the tension with a butter knife. “Do you hate me?” you asked.

Steve sighed “No, I don’t think I could hate you. But I wish you told me sooner.”

“I didn’t want to ruin prom…” you turned your attention to the window “And I didn’t think you liked me back…”

“So you’re just gone after this?” Steve asked, turning down your shared street. You silently wished he’d acknowledged your feelings. That’s he’d even look at you. You his gaze stayed fixed on the road ahead and his mouth pulled into a tight, thin line.

“I might be,” you turned to look at Steve fully “If I get in, then I’ll have the option to go for their four year program. But if I don’t get in, I’ll be back by early July.”

“And if you get in?” Steve turned into his own driveway, turning off the engine but not moving.

“Then I’d come home for Christmas...” that wasn’t a certain thing, your mother didn’t come home for the holiday and with assignments you weren’t certain you’d be back either, but setting a time frame for your homecoming made the whole thing feel more certain.

Steve nodded again. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, not really looking at you, more the skyline behind your head. He was upset to say the least. Not necessarily at you, he understood why you hadn’t told him, but a bit of resentment harboured in the pit of his stomach. You were about to get out of this shit hole, to go on an adventure of your own. And he hadn’t even gotten into college. He was stuck here. He hated the universe for fucking with him, for showing him a new start and then taking it away.

“Steve,” you reached for the door. You needed to both be there with him and hidden away in your room. “Ask me to stay and I will.”

Steve turned to look at you. He saw the fear in your eyes, how pale you’d gone. You looked terrified and he was certain that it wasn’t of him. “Ask me and I will.” You repeated, nodding your head slightly.

Steve wanted desperately to say yes. To have you stay with him for the summer. But he knew it wouldn’t be fair. “No,” he breathed “I can’t do that, Y/N.”

“Yes you can, I’m telling you that you can.” You sounded desperate. You felt desperate. Every part of you was begging to stay exactly where you were. For the first time in your life, things were starting to turn up for you. Before now, you could’ve left everything behind easily. Now everything was more complicated. You were scared of the future, of what lay ahead in France. Steve was a way out, an escape from the change already set into motion. Your mother would understand she’d given up on so many things for men; her modelling career for your father, a second chance on it for an ex-fiancé, photo shoots and interviewers with designers for various flings. You giving up a chance at art school for Steve felt okay.

“No, no you have to go. You’re too good to not try this.” He rubbed your cheek with his thumb before turning away from you. Your heart broke, your hopes shattered on the floor at your feet. You bundled up your things from the floor and pushed the door open. Blue tears were streaming down your face. You couldn’t be around him now.

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alexius-fr · 4 years ago

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What’s this, a lore post? Yes it is!

Chapter One - Arrival

The newest chapter of my lore is up on AO3 (just click the chapter title) or if you prefer, you can read it below the cut!

They'd been flying for hours.

They had crossed through the storms of the seemingly endless Shifting Expanse, over the Sea of a Thousand Currents, and now they were flying over the Windswept Plateau, giant kites in the sky above, rocky spires protruding from lush forests beneath. The wind here was soft, warm, whimsical.

Sanguine hated it.

But perhaps it was far enough for now. He looked behind him, to see a group of tired, struggling dragons flying in his trail. His brother Silas was closest, at his side as always, as he had been for years.

“Sange.” Silas panted, his wings barely keeping him adrift. “I swear if we don't take a break soon I'll have a fit.” he pretended to swoon in the air, making a dramatic gesture with his wing on his forehead. He lost balance as a result, flapping his wings clumsily to get back into position, Sanguine frowning with bemusement. His brother had always been a bit of a frivolous brat, but judging by the state of the others, he might have a point.

“Fine.” Sanguine nodded, putting his eyes dead ahead once more. A great spire appeared in the distance, and it looked like it was inhabited. They could rest there, and restock supplies for the rest of the journey. “Over there. Follow me.” Sanguine said, starting the descent.

The spire was like a vibrant little town, the buildings up top scattered all over the rocky ridges, lush growths preventing the making of real paths, but any real Wind dragon didn't need something as mundane as paths. As they got closer, they drew many curious stares from the dragons that probably inhabited the spire, but they were not stopped or questioned, the group flying into the main area up top, a large natural platform that lent itself perfectly for useage as a courtyard or square. It was surrounded by shops, market stands and a small temple. In the middle there was a natural spring, it's crystal clear water carving it's way out in a small stream that eventually formed the smallest waterfall Sanguine had ever seen, as it finally reached the edge of the platform and clattered off the side with a gentle continuous noise.

Tired and thirsty, the rest of his clan also touched down and immediately began drinking from the spring, himself included. He made sure he had his fill before he looked up to investigate his surroundings closer. But by then they'd attracted quite a crowd, inhabitants, shopkeepers and visitors alike having come to watch them, curiously inspecting their guests.

“You in the habit of staining someone else's water with your taint straight after you arrive?”

The deep voice that sneered at them was monotone, yet vicious. Sanguine looked around to find the owner of the voice, seeing a shadowy spectre of a dragon looking down upon them from the temple roof. Deep purple eyes peered at him from above a dark mask, curious and yet condemning.

“Oh is this your water?” Silas was, as ever, ready to sneer back. “I don't see your name written on it anywhere.” he met the Shadow dragon's relentless stare with a look of ire.

“It's not just ordinary water, you stupid plaguespreader.” the dragon on the temple roof uncoiled himself, his shape revealing that he was a spiral. One jump and he glided gracefully down to the courtyard, landing in front of Sanguine and Silas. “It's our sacred spring. It's water is only used for special ceremonies.”

“Yeah? Well there wasn't any ceremonies going on so how were we supposed to know?” Silas rebutted. He threw his head back with arrogance, Sanguine unwillingly reminded of the way their mother always did that, in almost the exact same way

Where would she be now, he wondered. Was she still alive? Was she still the furious, prideful creature he once knew? He hadn't seen her, or heard from her, in years. Shifting his weight from his left leg to his right, he was reminded once more of their duel so long ago, that had left him crippled. The injury had never healed properly, leaving him with a scar and a limp. He'd come to accept both as part of himself over the years, but on bad days just looking at the scar gave him the urge to tear his own leg off.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a loud hiss, seeing Silas and the shadow Spiral about to jump eachother. He supposed he should really intervene, they needed a place to rest their wings for a few days and he couldn't have Silas get them thrown out. But before he could step in, a voice echoed over the courtyard, light and clear as the water that ran in the spring.

“Shen! That's enough.”

Heads turning towards the entrance of the temple, the crowd bowed to the Spiral that had come out of it's main gate. They were a bright mix of mauve, jade and every colour in between, eyes of the purest green, the air seeming to dance around them. Large curious eyes looked at Sanguine, smiling mysteriously. Their horns glowed a spirited light green, their hide shimmering with markings in that same colour. This was a being of great power and wisdom, even if on the outside they looked like just another spiral dragon. Sanguine guessed they were an entity, a spirit of wind. He'd gotten a knack for recognizing power throughout the years.

“Alexius, I was just-” the shadow spiral, apparently named Shen, backed away from Silas, with a reverent bow. Who- or whatever Alexius was, it was clear that everyone here had a lot of respect for them.

“They are just weary travelers, Shen. Let them drink. What good will the water do just running off the spire like that?” Alexius approached them with a light hearted smile. Sanguine bowed lightly to them, nudging Silas to do the same. Silas did not neglect to roll his eyes before he followed suit.

“Thank you, Alexius. I apologize for the misunderstanding, we never meant to offend.” Sanguine spoke diplomatically. “My name is Sanguine, and this is my brother Silas. We lead our clan together. Sometimes.” the snarky remark at the end had Silas scoff, but Alexius seemed to enjoy it, their smile growing wider.

“Be welcome, Sanguine. I am Alexius, and this is my clan. Please forgive Shen's caution, he's very passionate about protecting this place. I'm sure you understand the importance of protecting a place that is home to you.” Alexius said, their body dreamily suspended just above the ground. They seemed to be levitating effortlessly, their wings not moving at all.

“Once we find a home, perhaps that will be a sentiment I can relate to.” Sanguine said politely.

“Ah yes, you have lived a life on the go. You are a survivor, Sanguine.” Alexius' eyes gleamed shortly with a jolt of power. Had they seen his past? How did they know? No, any idiot could see that he'd lived a life of travel, of hardship. He had the scars to show it.

“Ah, but you must be weary from your long flight. You may rest in our caverns. It should provide you with everything you need. And if not, there's not a thing we don't sell or provide up here.” Alexius smiled warmly.

“Alexius-” Shen protested. “Surely you're not thinking of letting them stay? They're plague. They'll bring trouble before long.”

“My spire is a refuge to all, Shen. What would've happened to you if I'd turned you away? What will happen to them if we refuse them a simple place to rest their wings? How will it reflect on us?” Alexius spoke calmly, patient like a teacher would speak to a pupil. “Do you understand?” “Yes, master.” Shen bowed his head, a little shamed.

“You are a bright young dragon, Shen. But you must learn that sometimes your eyes can cheat you. Appearances can be deceiving.” Alexius smiled gently. “There is far more to these dragons that meets the eye.” they glanced at Sanguine with a knowing look, Sanguine wondering what Alexius saw.

“Zephyr, will you show our guests to the caverns?” Alexius called, a young ridgeback quickly making his way up to them. Sanguine couldn't quite place the feeling, but he thought there was something familiar about him. Or it could just be because he was tired from their long journey.

“Of course, master Alexius.” Zephyr spoke with a voice like a light breeze, pleasant on the ears like a windchime. “Please, follow me.” the youngster bowed to them and then showed them the easiest way down, guiding them to a natural cavern below the spire. It was perfect for a short rest, a river running nearby and the dense bamboo forests would provide them with plenty of food.

“Here we are.” Zephyr said, proudly. His pale green eyes glinted with life in the sunlight, his striped hide perfect camouflage for hunting in the forests that were below the spire. He looked young, energetic, healthy. Sanguine hated that he couldn't think of who he reminded him of. Like the thing you know you've forgotten to do but you can't for the life of it remember what it was. How annoying. “Thank you, Zephyr. We'll manage from here.” Sanguine said.

“Are you sure? I can answer some questions, if you have them.” Zephyr said, hopeful. “We don't really get whole clans visiting often. Especially not Plague clans.” he was obviously curious but did not want to admit it outright. “My father came from Plague, but he says he'd never go back.”

“Look kid, we're tired.” Silas intervened. “And we don't want to talk about where we're from or where we're going. We'll be out of your spines before you know it, so just leave us alone.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.” Zephyr recoiled a little, his spines lowering submissively. “I'll leave you to it then.” he was quick to turn and leave, Sanguine throwing Silas an annoyed look. “What did you do that for? He was only curious.” “And annoying.” Silas argued. “This place give me the creeps. Everyone's nice. It's just not natural.” “Imagine being nice.” Sanguine frowned with irony. He watched Zephyr disappear into the cloudy top of the spire, a strange hollow feeling nagging at him. He had the feeling he knew him. But how was that possible? He'd never been to the Windswept Plateau before. And yet..

“Oh come on brother, don't be a spoilsport. He's just a kid. You used to love bullying kids.” Silas grinned widely, sticking out his tongue at Sanguine. “Or have you gone soft?” “I've gone tired. Shut up.” Sanguine grumbled, walking into the cavern.

There were plenty of little alcoves for them all to roost, and he picked the largest one, liking to have space for himself. Of course space was a relative term with Silas roosting in the alcove just below him, but at least it was better than sleeping in an open, unprotected clearing. Come morning, he would have a good think about where to go next from here. For now, all he wanted was to sleep.

“Hey Sange.” Silas' voice sounded from below, just as Sanguine was about to doze off. “What?” Sanguine growled in annoyance. “You ever think back to mom?” Silas asked, for once, not trying to annoy him. Sanguine was caught off guard by the genuine question. He was expecting something stupid to come out of Silas' mouth. But just this once, his brother sounded melancholic.

“Yes. Quite often.” Sanguine replied honestly.

“You think she's alive still?” Silas asked. “I'd be surprised if she's not. An emperor could not best her if it tried.” Sanguine said.

“Old age can catch up with anyone.” Silas argued. “But I'm inclined to agree. We're closer to Plague territory than we've been in years. Think she'll come find us?” “I certainly hope not.” Sanguine said, genuinely. “Now can I please sleep?” “Of course. Good night, brother.” Silas yawned.

“Good night, Silas.” Sanguine mumbled, laying his head down and curling his tail around his weary body.

The morning would bring clarity.

#fr #flight rising #fr lore #flight rising lore #fr lore clan #fr lore dragons

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myarmsaretoolong · 4 years ago

Text

@whumptober2020 Prompt #17: “You Didn’t See That Coming” - Presumed Dead

Word Count: 5283

Warnings: Blood (Minor) | Mentions of Death | Kidnapping | Serious Injury | Hospital Scenes

Synopsis: When the mission goes south, and Peter is kidnapped right under Tony’s nose, the only thing he has left is hope to someday be reunited

Read Under the Cut | Read on AO3

The mission wasn’t going well.

Herman Schultz, Shocker, The-Guy-Who-Peter-Webbed-to-a-Bus-and-Sent-to-Prison, whatever you wanted to call him, decided to cause havoc on a quiet Queens evening; Tony and Peter went out to put a stop to it. Naively confident he’d pose a weak threat.

It started okay, the superhero duo came this close to taking Shocker down when he’d hit them with a powerful EMP blast. Not only did it knock out all power within a ten-block radius, but it disabled both of their suits, too. Peter fared better out of the two, using the momentum from his swing to land on the side of an apartment block, but Tony took a five-story shortcut to the ground.

He landed hard, rattling around inside the suit as it bounced and rolled across the tarmac, safe in the knowledge he’d be nursing bruises for days. “Fri?” he called, breathless from shock and trying to piece together why he now lay in a mysterious puddle in the street gutter. Of course, Friday didn’t respond. Looking out of the eye slits, Tony saw Shocker stalking towards him and fumbled for the manual suit releases.

The suit sprung open and Tony shot to his feet, leaping over to the pavement while trying to form a plan.

Peter landed on Shocker’s head; he may be lacking his web-shooters, but still had super-strength. They fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs and, after a short scuffle in which Tony couldn’t quite make out who’s arms were who’s, Peter jumped to his feet and looked down at the unmoving Shocker by his feet.

Satisfied he wasn’t getting up, Peter ran over to Tony, glancing at the still open suit as he passed. “Mister Stark, are you alright?”

Tony wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think.”

“I’m okay, kid. Really.” Tony walked back to his suit and crouched down, his elbows resting on his knees. “I don’t suppose you’re there, Fri?”

After a long pause, Peter answered for her. “I think that might be a ‘no’.”

Tony nodded slowly. “I’m starting to think the same.” He straightened up and turned to Peter. “Is it bad form for a couple of Avengers to call an Uber?”

“Probably,” Peter shrugged, “but I also don’t want to lug that thing back to the compound. ‘Cause we both know who’ll be carrying it.” He muttered the last part.

“What was that?” Tony raised an eyebrow, his head tilted slightly to the side. “I dragged it through the snow in Tennessee once I’ll have you know."

“Yes, I know. We all know.” Peter rolled his eyes as he spoke. “You’ve told that story a thousand times.”

Tony stared at Peter for a long moment. “I’m choosing to ignore that comment. Now,” he held out his hand, palm up. “give me your phone, I’m going to call… Someone.”

“What about your phone?” Peter said, stepping back indignantly.

“Don’t have pockets in the suit, kid. Just hand it ov-AAAA!” One of Shocker’s blasts hit Tony in the side, sending him twenty feet in the air and smacking into the side of an apartment building before falling back to the floor.

Peter lunged after Shocker, but the latter got there first and caught Peter in the chest with an electric bolt, knocking the air from his lungs as he tumbled backwards head over heels. He managed to push himself up to his knees, unaware of Shocker sneaking up behind him.

“Kid, look out!” Tony yelled. Or at least, hoped he did, everything sounded muffled, and the world swam in front of his eyes. He touched a hand to the back of his head, and it came away crimson.

He watched helplessly as Peter turned around, too late to avoid Shocker’s punch that connected with the side of his head. The kid crumpled to the floor, out cold. Tony managed to drag himself up to sit against the side of the apartment block as Shocker paced towards him, a maniacal grin on his face. “Oh, I’m going to have fun doing this, Stark.”

Tony spat out a wad of blood and met Shocker’s eyes with evil intent. “Do your worst.” Shocker raised his gauntlet. Tony prayed for a miracle.

But this was the real world. And in the real world, miracles didn’t happen.

Electricity coursed through Tony’s body, setting off every nerve ending across every inch of his skin. He screamed out the pain through gritted teeth, unable to open his mouth as the electricity tensed his muscles. Shocker didn’t let up. Tony could feel his insides twisting and turning to mush as darkness crept in the edges of his vision. Blood dripped from his nose and ears, pooling with that already staining the ground.

The last thing he remembered before succumbing to the darkness, was Shocker’s crazed laugh.

* * *

Rhodey sat by Tony’s bedside, still in the same uncomfortable armchair he’d left maybe a handful of times since they brought him back to the compound. The chair’s scratchy material almost began to feel normal against his skin.

He’d been monitoring their mission back at the Avengers Facility, trying to convince Tony to accept backup. He’d refused, of course, saying him and the kid had everything under control. When Friday lost connection to both of their suits, Rhodey assembled the team and had them suited in the Quinjet within minutes.

The flight to Queens hadn’t taken long, but the sight that greeted them… Rhodey would never be able to forget it. The first thing he saw - or rather, didn’t see - was the dark patch on the horizon. No streetlights, no glow bleeding out of apartment windows, not even the garish red and blue flicker from a neon sign in a bodega window. Next, he saw Tony’s suit, the front folded open, abandoned in a gutter.

Then his stomach turned over. Tony lay at the bottom of an apartment building in a pool of blood. That blood, too, stained his undershirt and oozed down his face from a gallery of slashes through his skin. Rhodey rushed to his side as soon as the Quinjet door opened, checking over his vitals and shouting orders at the others to get him and the suit safely aboard the jet.

The last thing he only noticed as they carried Tony from the pavement. Tire marks, freshly lain on the road, as if someone made a quick getaway.

That was three days ago.

Bruce popped his head around the door to the medbay, startling Rhodey back to the present, and nodded his head backwards, gesturing for Rhodey to follow him. He stood from the chair, suppressing a groan as his muscles protested from being still for so long - not because he was quickly approaching his mid-fifties, definitely not that - and padded over to Bruce in the doorway.

“Any change?” Bruce asked, his eyes falling sadly on Tony’s prone form. He almost looked peaceful, carefully tucked under a blanket and head resting on only the softest of pillows. But the still healing cuts on his face and splints holding various broken bones still ruined that. Instead, he looked like a man haunted by a past he wished he’d forget.

Rhodey shook his head, arms folded across his chest. “But no news is good news, right?” He spoke in a whisper, as if making too much noise would disturb Tony’s rest. “It means he’s not getting any worse.”

“Shocker really did a number on him. Doctor Cho said it’d take time for him to recover.” Bruce squeezed Rhodey’s forearm sympathetically. He smiled gratefully at the other man, knowing seeing Tony this way hurt Bruce just as much as him. “Besides, he’s finally getting a good night’s sleep.”

“Not even Pepper could manage that,” Rhodey chuckled, dropping his chin to his chest. “You know Tony, he’s a fighter. He’ll pull through.”

A grave expression fell across Bruce’s face, his eyes returning to Tony in the bed. “I don’t want to be the one to tell him the news.”

Rhodey sighed and looked to the floor, leaning against the door frame. “My turn to ask if you have an update.”

Bruce didn’t reply straight away, but eventually spoke up. “Yeah.”

“I’m guessing it’s bad news.”

“Yeah.”

Rhodey raked a hand over his face, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. “How bad?”

Voices sounded from around the corner, too far away to make out but mostly likely Pepper and Morgan coming to visit Tony. “We should talk somewhere else,” Bruce said, turning his head towards the sound.

“Yeah,” Rhodey looked down the corridor as they rounded the corner, nodding a greeting to Pepper. He turned back to Bruce, “Go ahead, I’ll catch up in a minute.” Bruce nodded and left, giving a wave to Pepper and pulling a silly face at Morgan to make her giggle before he headed towards the command center.

Pepper held Morgan on her hip, bouncing her playfully as they walked up to Rhodey. The whole team silently decided that, with her dad laid up in a hospital bed, it was best to stay cheerful around Morgan. They obviously hadn’t told her the full story, just that Tony had been hurt while working and needed to sleep for a while until he felt better - which wasn’t technically a lie.

“Hey there, Squirt,” Rhodey beamed, reaching out to take Morgan. Truth be told, Morgan was such a light in all of their lives that he didn’t have to pretend to be happy. “How was school today?”

“Good!” Morgan squeaked. She proudly held up a piece of paper in front of Rhodey’s face, slightly crinkled from where she’d been holding it. “I drew this for Daddy in art class. It’s all of us together at home!”

Rhodey took the piece in his spare hand and examined it. Himself, Pepper, Tony, Peter, and Morgan stood in the forefront - none of whom were wearing their suits - while in the back, various other Avengers, along with May, Ned, and MJ. At the top, the title ‘My Heroes’ was printed in funky bubble letters, which Morgan had coloured in with a crayon. “Wow, you could be a professional artist someday.”

Morgan giggled, burying her face in Rhodey’s shoulder.

“Sweetie, did you want to go and show Daddy?” Pepper asked. Morgan nodded, and Rhodey set her down, handing her the paper. They watched as she ran up to Tony’s bedside and climbed up on there with him, using the armchair as a makeshift step ladder. She laid down, snuggled up against his chest, and began describing the drawing for him - they’d told her that though he looked asleep, Tony could hear what they were all saying. Pepper turned away first, looking to Rhodey. “How’s he doing?”

“Good, all things considered. Vitals have held steady all day. It’s a really good sign, Cho said.”

Pepper nodded slowly, returning to watch Morgan. “He’s always been too stubborn for his own good.”

“You’re not getting an argument from me.”

Pepper laughed warmly, resting her hand on Rhodey’s arm. “Go, catch up to Bruce. I saw you two talking when we arrived, it looked important.”

“Thanks,” Rhodey smiled. “I’ll be back soon.” He took one last look at Morgan and Tony before heading for the command center.

They called it the command center because it was the main base of operations for monitoring both potential threats and active missions. Since the return of the dusted Avengers, there were more than enough people to have multiple missions running at the same time, so it seemed best to have a central room where everyone and everything could be monitored with ease.

Rhodey paused outside the door, preparing himself for whatever news Bruce had, before walking inside. Seeing the room caused his stomach to turn over. The sense of dread he felt when Friday lost connection to their suits returning tenfold each time he entered. Still, he pushed it down. He had a job to do.

Bruce leaned on the corner of the desk, a dozen holo-screens filling its surface and all showing different information. May sat in the chair, slouched over with her head in her hands and eyes closed. Rhodey shot Bruce a questioning look; Bruce only shook his head.

With a sigh, Rhodey walked up to May and gently rested his hands on her shoulders, startling her awake. “Hey,” he said softly, she turned to face him, “Maybe you should think about heading home. Catch up on some sleep, get a decent meal.”

May shook her head furiously, eyes welling with tears. “I can’t- I can’t leave not knowing.”

“I’ll update you the second we find anything. Happy’s just about to head home, I’m sure he’ll give you a lift.” When May still didn’t move, Rhodey leaned back against the desk, not taking his eyes from hers. “We’ve got people out there searching, there’s not much we can do from here. Peter would want you to look after yourself.”

At the mention of Peter, May looked up. Slowly, she nodded and rose to her feet. “Yeah,” she whispered, “Yeah, he would. See you.” She drifted from the room with barely a backwards glance at either of the occupants.

Once she’d made it a safe distance down the corridor, Bruce spoke up. “I’m worried about her. She’s hardly left this room in days.”

Rhodey nodded, his expression solemn. “I’ve talked to Happy, asked him to keep an eye out for her if we ever managed to get her back home. You know how close they’ve gotten recently.”

Bruce laughed. “I have. And I didn’t see it coming.”

“Neither did the kid,” Rhodey chuckled, alleviating some of the heavy atmosphere shrouding the room. “So,” he stood straight and moved around to face the holo-screens, arms folded protectively across his chest, “What’s the lastest?”

Bruce moved to stand beside Rhodey. Grabbing the projection of a map of the US and enlarging it, pushing the other holograms to the side in the process. On one of which, the same three-second CCTV clip of a white van speeding down the street replayed over and over, Shocker just visible in the driver’s seat. Across the map, a series of dots linked together by a continuous line - all the locations they’d tracked Shocker’s van to, spread wildly and never going in the same direction twice.

“Last we know, Shocker holed up in Denver for a couple of hours. I sent Sam and Steve out as soon as we got a licence plate hit, but he’d vanished by the time they arrived.”

“Vanished?”

“Yeah,” Bruce stepped back, revealing the end of the line just south of Denver on the I-25. “He turned off the Interstate not long after ten this morning, we’ve usually had another hit by now. But this time, nothing.”

“Are you saying we’ve lost him? We’ve lost the kid?”

Bruce nodded, forlorn. He gestured at the hologram, and a circle appeared, centred around Denver and reaching as far as the California border. “They could be anywhere within this area given the time since we lost them.”

“Great!” Rhodey threw his arms in the air, shaking his head. “So we only have to search half of the Western States.”

“And the area get’s bigger the longer they’re missing.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Then I guess I shouldn’t mention the possibility they’ve visited an airport.”

“Can’t do,” Rhodey said quickly, “There’s no way airport security would let a known super-criminal leave the country with a minor he’s not related to.”

Bruce shrugged. “I wouldn’t be so sure. He’s been to a lot of cities, who knows what contacts he has.” Rhodey fell into the chair, rubbing his hands vigorously over his face. “Hey,” Bruce pulled up a second chair and squeezed Rhodey’s shoulder. “Are you alright? Besides the obvious, I mean. You look kinda rough.”

“Thanks, man.”

“I just meant you need to look after yourself, too, as well as everyone else.”

Rhodey smiled warmly, “I know. I am, just a little tired. Not been sleeping well.”

“I can get you something to help with that if you want. Just let me know.”

Rhodey didn’t answer, instead looking up to the map. Specifically, the small triangles that represented the on-mission Avengers’ current locations. He nodded generally towards them. “Who’s out there?”

Bruce pointed to the closest triangle to Denver. “That’s Sam and Steve, still running reconnaissance.” Next, he gestured to one somewhere over Missouri, “Wanda and Vision flew out from Edinburgh this morning - they wanted to help the search - and are headed to Oklahoma City. See if they can find anything there. These other two in Mississippi are Nat and Bucky, and Clint and Scott.”

“And they’re…?”

“Looking for one of Shocker’s known contacts. We think he might have stayed with one of Vulture’s old crew, Phineas Mason. ‘The Tinkerer’-”

“That’s got to be one of the worst nicknames out there.”

“Yeah,” Bruce chuckled, “We’re hoping he might give us something on Shocker. Or… Nat can convince him to give us something.”

“Let’s hope he does.” Rhodey got to his feet. “I’m going to grab a coffee for Pepper, you want anything?”

Bruce shook his head, “Thanks, though.”

“No problem,” Rhodey smiled and left the room, hanging around in the doorway. “You’re doing a good job here, man. We’ll find them.” Bruce nodded once, his expression one of determination, and Rhodey started down the corridor.

He thought as he walked towards the kitchen. With everything going on, he maybe hadn’t been giving himself quite the love he deserved, instead worrying about Tony, or helping Bruce co-ordinate missions, or babysitting Morgan when Pepper’s meetings dragged late into the night. With a yawn, he considered taking up Bruce’s offer. Imagining the good a decent night’s sleep could do him.

“May?” he asked incredulously, striding over to the breakfast bar where she sat. A cup of coffee cradled between her hands. “I thought you were going home.”

May sighed, looking defeated. Permanent worry lines etched into her forehead, her hair in the same messy bun it had been for days and fingernails bitten to the skin. “I couldn’t do it. Sent Happy without me.”

“I get it,” Rhodey sat on the stool beside her. “When Tony went missing in Afghanistan, I didn’t stop for months. I couldn’t. Because it was my duty to find him.” May nodded absentmindedly. “Finding Peter isn’t your duty; we’re all here for him. All looking-”

“That’s just the thing.” May lifted her head, tears in her eyes. “You’re all out there searching for my kid, and I’m sat here like a piece of furniture.”

Rhodey was taken aback, frowning as she spoke. “May-”

“And I know, I know, I can’t go out there and help. Not in the same way, at least. So it’s all I can do to be here when you get him back.” She dropped her head again, staring at her coffee like it would give her the answer. “That’s all I have.”

“Take my room,” Rhodey offered, “I’ve been sleeping in the medbay, so my bed’s going spare. Plus, no one will disturb you in there.

“I couldn’t-”

“I insist.”

After a brief pause, May leant into Rhodey’s side and hugged him. “Thank you.” She got to her feet, still holding the coffee.

“There are spare clothes in the cupboard at the end of the hall. I’m sure you can find some pyjamas in there. Make yourself at home. And I don’t want to see you up before seven tomorrow morning.”

May laughed gently. “Yes, Colonel.” With a mock salute, she left the room. Rhodey stood and grabbed two cups of coffee, plus a juice box from the fridge, and started back to the medbay.

* * *

Tony woke early the next morning, greeted by a relieved Rhodey, tearful Pepper, and Morgan diving into the bed next to him and snuggling up to his chest. The pair soon had to leave for school and work, leaving just Rhodey and Tony alone.

Tony looked up at Rhodey, a dopey grin on his face. “What’s up, Sourpatch? You look like someone sucker-punched you.”

“Look, I’m not going to sugar-coat this-”

“Oh?” Tony’s smile turned to a frown, his lips turned downwards and brow furrowed.

“Shocker, he took Pete. We’ve been tracking him for days, but lost the trail yesterday morning.”

Tony stared at the end of his bed, every muscle in his body tensed and a dangerous expression on his face. Without warning, he sat forward and flung back the duvet, intent of swinging his legs over the edge and standing. “Woah,” Rhodey caught him, stopping his progress. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Finding Pete. What does it look like?”

“So what, you’re just going to search the entire country?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“No, Tones. You’re nowhere near ready to go out in the field.”

“I don’t care about that,” Tony growled. “That bastard took my kid. And I’m going to find him.” He made another attempt to dodge Rhodey and stand, but in his weakened state, it proved impossible.

Gently, Rhodey pushed Tony’s shoulder back down. “You’re staying in this bed until Cho clears you. Bruce has the whole rest of the team out there, even Wanda and Vision came in. There’s nothing you can add right now. It sucks, but you’ll have to wait.”

Tony laid back. “Sometimes I hate having a voice of reason who’s quite so reasonable.”

“Sometimes I hate having a friend who refuses back up and ends up comatose for days.”

“Hey,” Tony threw his arms out, “You can’t be mean to me, I’m sick! Look,” he held up his hand with an IV and heartbeat monitor attached, “I’m hooked up to all sorts of machines in a hospital bed! Being mean to sick people is a no-no.”

Rhodey threw his head back, laughing his most genuine laugh in days.

* * *

Bruce sprinted into the medbay, skidding to a stop in the doorway and panting hard. A hint of a smile on his face. Rhodey jumped to his feet, Tony sat up straighter, wincing slightly at the pain movement caused.

“Mason talked.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up, and he cast a confused glance Rhodey’s way. “I thought you said they did find him and came home days ago?”

“Clint and Scott came home,” Bruce corrected, “what with Cassie and all. Nat and Bucky stayed out there. Just commed in to say Mason gave them a potential location on Shocker, some shack he mentioned while running with Vulture. They’re headed there now.”

Tony pushed back his bedsheet back and wobbled to his feet, having hardly stood in the week since the attack.

“Woah!” Rhodey rushed around the bed to steady Tony, only for the man to push him away.

“I’m not a child, Rhodey.”

“You sound a bit like one.”

“Get in your suit, let’s go.” Tony started towards the door.

Bruce blocked his path and looked worriedly to Rhodey over Tony’s shoulder. “Uh, I’m not sure-”

“You aren’t? Well, I am. The suits are quicker than a Quinjet, and Rhodey’s coming because of the insane buddy system you’ve got going.”

“Hey! That buddy system saved your life-”

“It also got my kid captured by a homicidal maniac,” Tony countered, “So move out of my way.”

Bruce’s eyes found Rhodey again, the other man nodded. “Doctor Cho was going to clear him this afternoon anyway. And our suits are quicker. If Mason warned Shocker, he could already be running again.”

“Fine,” Bruce stepped aside and let Tony pass, but caught Rhodey’s arm before he could leave. “I’ll send Friday the location. Keep an eye on him.”

“I know,” Rhodey nodded sincerely before chasing after Tony.

Within a few minutes, they were in the air and hurtling towards south-west Colorado. Most of the flight passed in silence, Tony busy worrying about Peter, and Rhodey busy worrying about Tony.

Their target turned out to be a half-collapsed, wooden shack surrounded by trees with a singular, dusty, dirt road winding away for miles. Shocker’s van lazily parked up by the house. Nothing else within sight. The shack itself looked like a gentle breeze would knock it over, the wooden panels so rotten in places that you could see inside and the door swinging on its hinges.

Tony landed first, Rhodey a second behind him, and marched forward, kicking the door with enough force to level it to the ground. “Schultz!” He bellowed, lighting the room inside with the glow from his palm repulsor, “You’d best hand over my kid else you won’t live to regret it.” He scanned the room, quickly realising it to be empty, and motioned for Rhodey to head for the door to his left while he strode further inside.

Dust filled the air, and covered the floor for that matter, though clearly it had been recently disturbed. A ratty, moth-eaten sofa sat in the centre of the room with a threadbare rug underneath it. Apart from that, the room was empty.

“It’s clear!” Rhodey called from the side room, reappearing through the door.

Tony poked his head through a doorframe, though the door itself was lacking. The metal frame of a bed was shoved up against one wall, a stained duvet balled up atop it. No Shocker. No Peter. “Clear.”

“Tones, I think you should see this.”

Tony tapped his chest, his nano-suit dematerialising as he jogged back to Rhodey. The room he’d cleared turned out to be a bathroom, a grubby sink, toilet, and bath-shower combo taking up practically all of the space. Rhodey stood by the sink, looking down at the grime covered floor.

“What is it?” Tony asked, moving closer. “Oh…” In the dirt, someone had drawn two letters with a slender finger. PP.

“They were here, and they can’t be long gone,” Rhodey said.

“Then let’s find them.” Tony started back towards the front door and shot into the air, following the dirt path away from the shack with Rhodey close on his heel.

“They didn’t take the van,” Rhodey pointed out. “Could’ve walked, could’ve had a backup car here already.”

“Friday, are any other vehicles registered to Herman Schultz.”

“Only the van, Boss.”

“Shit. CCTV?”

“Not within a ten-mile radius.”

“That’s just great. Rhodey, split up, cover as much ground as possible. They could be anywhere.” The pair peeled apart, eyes scanning the ground for any sign of life.

Despite an increasingly desperate search lasting well into the next morning, Rhodey would reluctantly drag Tony home empty-handed.

* * *

A year passed. Shocker didn’t slip up, never gave away his position, never once asked for ransom money. Slowly, everyone came to the same conclusion. What would Shocker gain from dragging a superpowered kid around the country if he didn’t want money? Nothing was the obvious answer. So everyone, however reluctantly, agreed.

Peter was dead.

So soon after they got him back.

Over the year, the Avengers had chased down every lead, followed up on every clue, acted on even the vaguest of whispers. Even Ross joined the search, every police precinct on the lookout for him. All lead to dead ends. Quite simply, it was over. Shocker had murdered the kid and got away with it.

Tony fed the press a line about Spider-Man joining the Guardians on an outer space mission, which prompted a new line of space-themed Spider-Man toys. It hurt every time he saw one, but sometimes pretending was easier than facing the truth.

May spent more time at the Facility, wanting out of the apartment that only reminded her of her kid. She trained to work with Cho and her medical team, learning the ins and outs of each Avengers medical needs. Even single-handedly saving Steve’s life after a particularly lousy mission and no one else was around. Quickly becoming a valued member of the team. Tony knew what she was doing, making up for losing Peter by saving the others.

The atmosphere at the Facility never quite recovered, it improved, sure. But would never be the same, not with the gaping hole Peter left behind.

“Tony?”

Tony started awake, almost dropping the coffee clutched in his hands. “Oh, Bruce, hey,” he mumbled, trying to regain his composure. “What are you doing up?”

Bruce shrugged, falling heavily into the seat next to Tony. “Couldn’t sleep. You get it.”

Nodding, Tony replied. “Yeah, anniversaries suck, huh?”

“That they do.”

Tony sighed. “After Thanos took them away, I thought we’d never get to see everyone again. The world had already gone to shit by the time Captain Sparkle Hands brought me home, and this time Pete’s gone, and the world doesn’t care. I’m never going to stop looking for him, Bruce. Not until I know either way.”

“Me either. These last few months have felt so… felt so wrong, y’know? Not hearing anything, or having anyone out there looking for Peter. I feel useless.”

“Hey,” Tony turned and clapped his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, “Out of all of us, you’ve probably done the most - and certainly the hardest - work. We’d never have got to that shack without you.”

“Didn’t pan out though, did it. Peter’s not here.”

“We were close, Bruce. So close.”

“I’m not sure if that’s better or worse,” Bruce sighed. A pair of voices drifted towards them, drawing both pairs of quizzical eyes. Rhodey and May walked into the lounge, quietly talking to each other.

“Let me guess, can’t sleep?” Tony asked. Rhodey nodded, a sad smile on his face. “Come,” he gestured to the empty sofa opposite, “join the club.”

They sat together until morning, reminiscing on their time with Peter, telling stories of his heroics - or funny things he’d done - and taking turns brewing another pot of coffee. They laughed, cried, talked, never feeling the need to hide their emotions from each other, just feeling them: the grief, the confusion, the heartache.

“Boss,” something about Friday’s tone made Tony feel odd, but the word passed so quickly that he couldn’t put his finger on why. Or even what exactly he felt.

“Yeah, Fri?” He asked sleepily - the sun had begun to rise after all.

“Peter Parker just walked into the foyer.”

Everyone froze, sharing looks of utter confusion.

“What?”

“Peter Parker just walked into the foyer.”

Tony jumped to his feet, following May who’d already run from the room. All four of them skidded into the foyer where, sure enough, Peter stood. Blood covering his face and dripping to the tiles below, clothes ripped and covered with dirt, but as soon as he saw them, a smile lit his whole face. “May! Mister Stark!”

May reached him first, wrapping her arms around him with fierce love. Peter clung to her like his life depended on it. He reached out a hand and grabbed the front of Tony’s shirt, pulling him into the embrace. “Get in here, Mister Stark.”

“Oh-” Tony locked his arms around the pair, tears slipping over his cheeks. “Hey, Pete.”

“I missed you guys so much!” Peter said between sobs.

May tightened her grip. “We missed you too.”

“I-I can’t believe you’re here, kid.”

“Me either, it wasn’t easiest to get away.”

Tony pulled away, wiping his tears on the back of his hand, and pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Peter looked over to Rhodey and Bruce, too. “All of you.”

“Glad you’re back, kid,” Rhodey beamed. “It wasn’t the same without you.”

Bruce stared, wide-eyed, as if trying to figure out whether or not he was dreaming. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Well,” Peter skipped over, the group walking further into the facility. “That’s a long story…

#whumptober2020 #no.17 #i did not see that coming #altprompt #presumed dead #mcu #irondad #fic #kidnapping tw #serious injury tw #hospital scenes tw

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